Witch at Last: A Jinx Hamilton Mystery Book 3 (The Jinx Hamilton Mysteries)
Page 19
“Get off of me you filthy rat!” she screamed, flailing wildly at her own head.
Deftly dodging the assault, Rodney dropped onto her shoulder and began searching around her neck for the clasp to the chain. When she felt him touch her skin, Brenna’s cries intensified.
Festus seized the opportunity to lunge at the frantic woman, raking his claws down her arm. Blood immediately soaked the torn fabric. The maneuver bought Rodney the time he needed, but pausing to unfasten the clasp made him vulnerable. At just the same instant the necklace broke free; Brenna hit the rat with a direct body blow that sent him flying in one direction and the amulet in another -- straight into Beau Longworth’s hand.
The instant the Colonel’s fingers closed over the stone, his form solidified. Color flowed down his body, turning the braid on his tunic a glistening gold and blacking the scarred leather of his boots. Sensing rather than understanding the transformation, determination filled eyes that were once again the color of the sea. Drawing his cavalry saber and stepping forward, Beau plunged the blade directly in Brenna Sinclair’s heart.
Everyone froze in place. Utter silence filled the room. Brenna looked down at her chest, then back up at Beau with an expression of stunned astonishment. Blood bubbled at her lips, spilling down onto her chest, and falling onto the green net that had now climbed as high as her waist. The instant the blood touched the tendrils, flames engulfed Brenna and in an instant, she was gone.
Beau stood rooted in place, the amulet in one hand and his sword, the blade now completely clean, firmly in the other. James McGregor, pale and ghostly, stepped out of the stacks.
“Brother Longworth,” he said, his voice filled with awe, “you are alive.”
Looking down at his own body, Beau shook his head. “That cannot be,” he said simply.
A sound beside him made Beau look down. Darby was standing next to him. “Excuse me, sir,” the brownie said. “But you are not really alive.”
“If you know what has happened to me, Master Darby,” Beau said. “I would be most grateful for an explanation.”
“You are holding the Amulet of the Phoenix,” Darby said.
Beau looked down at the necklace in his hand. “The bird that rose anew from the flames,” he said softly.
“Yes, sir,” Darby said. “So long as you have it in your possession, you may walk among the living, but it cannot raise you from the dead.”
Gemma joined them. “It did a good enough job in my book,” she said, holding her hand out to Beau. “I’m Tori’s mother.”
Remembering himself, Beau hastily put away his sword, and swept off his hat. Bowing low, he kissed Gemma’s hand. Then he turned to Kelly, “And you are Miss Jinx’s mother?” he asked.
“Yes,” Kelly said. She looked shaken, but there was also a gleam of triumph in her red-rimmed eyes.
Beau bowed again. “I am deeply honored to have been of service to you, Madame. I love your daughter as if she were my own girl. You must be enormously proud of her.”
Tears spilled out of Kelly’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “I am,” she said, “and I hope she’s going to be proud of me now.”
“I think, Madame, that she will be proud of us all,” Beau said.
A sound made them turn toward the stacks as Festus came limping out of the shadows holding Rodney gently in his mouth.
“Rodney!” Darby cried, rushing forward.
“Easy there,” Festus ordered out of the corner of his mouth. “He’s not dead. Just got a busted leg.”
Darby gently took Rodney from Festus and cradled the rat against his chest. “You were so brave, Rodney,” he crooned softly. “I cannot wait to tell the story, and I will take very good care of you until you are well again.”
Rodney weakly held up one front paw and gave them all the thumbs up sign.
Behind them, the portal burst open with a flash of light. Chase, in his mountain lion form, landed in a menacing crouch. Jinx and Tori rushed through the opening, followed by Barnaby, Moira, and Myrtle. Then they all stopped and blinked in confusion at the scene before them.
“Well,” Festus said, sitting down with studied disdain and regarding their would-be rescuers, “about time you slackers showed up.”
“Dad!” Chase cried. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“Of course, I’m okay, boy,” Festus answered crossly. “I was getting in fights with wizards before you were even weaned. We killed Brenna Sinclair, that’s what happened. What did you think we were going to do? Invite the woman to tea?”
Clearly dumbfounded, Jinx looked at her mother. “You killed Brenna?” she asked numbly.
Blushing and embracing her daughter, Kelly said, self-deprecatingly, “Well, not me specifically, dear. We all did.”
Tori gave her own mother a big hug and then, holding Gemma at arm’s length said, “I think you have some explaining to do. I thought you said you two weren’t very powerful.”
“Well,” Gemma hedged, “we might have downplayed that a little bit.”
“Ya think?” Tori asked.
Then she spotted Darby holding Rodney. “Oh my God!” she cried. “Is Rodney okay?”
Darby nodded, but his lower lip quivered. “Yes, Mistress, but his leg is broken. Please help him.”
“I will tend to him,” Moira said, stepping forward. She led Darby over to a small table nearby and began to examine the injured rat with the worried brownie hovering at her elbow.
Kelly smiled at Jinx. “Don’t you want to say hello to your friend?” she asked, nodding toward Beau.
Beau, still holding his hat in his hands, smiled shyly. “Hello, Miss Jinx,” he said. The poor man barely had time to prepare himself before Jinx threw her arms around him. He folded her readily in his arms, but couldn’t manage more than an embarrassed, “Oh my. There, there now.”
“You’re alive,” Jinx sobbed. “You’re all alive.”
“Well, my dear,” Beau said, “Master Darby tells me I’m not quite alive per se, but I am a good bit more functional than when last you saw me.”
Myrtle cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should all adjourn to more comfortable surroundings and discuss what has occurred?” she suggested. “I think we may all have a great many questions.”
“Capital idea,” Barnaby said. “James? Will you join us?”
“My pleasure,” the ghost said. “I haven’t had this much entertainment in at least a century.”
Jinx stepped away from Beau, but kept one arm around his waist. She held the other arm out to her mother, who moved beside her. Arm-in-arm, the three of them led the way toward the lair, with the others following behind. Chase and Festus brought up the rear.
As they padded along, Chase said, “Pretty impressive, old man.”
“I’m not dead yet, boy,” Festus said, “and don’t you be forgetting it.”
25
Myrtle was doing that understatement thing again when she said we all had a “great many” questions. By the time the moms and Beau explained their role in what happened that night, we had a fairly good picture of how it all came together. And then there was the big old hole right there in the basement wall.
Moira and Myrtle took care of that immediately, reforming the solid earth and taking possession of the miner’s hat and lamp that Beau assured us had created the tunnel.
“I wish I knew who that old man was,” I said, “and how he got in the store.”
Festus, now restored to his usual housecat self, stretched languidly on the hearth and said, “I’ll tell you exactly who that was. Fish Pike. His Dad was a werecat halfling. Couldn’t make the change. It turned him into a bitter drunk. Fish has been chasing for a way to get up in The Valley since he was a boy. Don’t you worry about him. Chase and I will pay a social call and make sure he doesn’t ever do anything like that again.”
“You’re not going to hurt him, are you?” I asked.
“No,” Chase said. He’d gone to his apartment just long enough to change into human form an
d get fresh clothes and was now nursing a glass of Scotch in one of the chairs by the fire. “We won’t hurt him, we’ll just have a purposeful talk with him.”
“Wait a minute,” Tori said. “I thought you told us werecats always date their own kind.”
“We do,” Festus said. “You don’t get the same kind of consequences if a werecat takes up with a human over another Fae, but if the offspring can’t change, there’s an envy that eats away at them and drives them crazy. It’s like they’re always trying to be something they’re not, and their minds can’t take it.”
For as angry as I might have been at this Fish Pike person, what Festus described made me feel sorry for the old man. And it made me appreciate even more why the cantankerous old cat was concerned about my getting involved with his son.
In those few moments when the portal was closed and I couldn’t get through to help the people I loved, the real message of that summer was driven home to me. Magic is an incredible responsibility. It is not to be ignored or taken lightly. Myrtle wanted a dedicated student? She got one that night.
During the whole exchange about Fish Pike, Moira had been sitting quietly, turning the filthy old cap over in her hands with a contemplative expression on her face.
At the first lull in the conversation, Barnaby asked her, “What are you thinking?”
Moira looked up, bringing her attention back to the group. The way her eyes met Barnaby’s, I completely understood why no one was quite sure about those two.
“I am thinking that we are suddenly dealing with a rather large number of magical artifacts,” Moira said. “And that there is no coincidence to that fact.”
Barnaby nodded. “Irenaeus Chesterfield?” he asked.
“I believe so,” she said. “Barnaby, I fear our better impulses where that man is concerned may have blinded us to his real activities. Irenaeus could, indeed, be an antiques dealer, but one with, I suspect, a quite specific specialty.”
Beau cleared his throat. “And I surmise that this amulet is one of those objects,” he said, holding it out to Moira. “I am quite prepared to give it over to you for safekeeping.”
“Oh no, you’re not!” I said stoutly. “You are putting that around your neck and wearing it.”
The Colonel smiled at me. “It does not make me truly one of the living, Miss Jinx,” he said. “A wise man does not go against the natural order of things.”
“Nor does a wise man turn his back when fortune smiles on him,” Barnaby said. “Please, Colonel Longworth, keep the amulet. Should we require its return, I am not concerned that you will refuse to comply.”
Beau regarded the amulet, studying it carefully, and then he slowly fastened it around his neck and dropped the stone inside his shirt. “Thank you,” he said simply. “I will not squander this gift.”
Darby appeared out of nowhere and circulated among us with a silver platter of sandwiches. He sat a tray down in front of Rodney bearing a rather startling selection of cheeses. Technically, his leg was no longer broken thanks to Moira’s healing magic, but Rodney had insisted on a cast anyway. He was installed on a little velvet pillow with one hind leg propped up accepting everyone’s solicitous attention. We’d decided to indulge him and let him wear the cast for a week or so. After all, he had launched himself right at an evil sorceress without hesitation. If he wanted to be a drama rat now, he was entitled.
James McGregor was getting his own fair share of attention as well. In Myrtle’s presence, he was solid enough to move objects and interact with his environment. He spent most of the evening studying the books in the shelves and listening to the rest of us talk. When Barnaby stood, looked at his own watch, and announced that he must be getting back, Beau invited James to take a walk with him.
“Uh, Beau,” Tori said. “You can’t go out like that.”
The Colonel blinked at her. “Why not?” he asked.
“You’re wearing a Civil War uniform,” she said. “And a Confederate one at that.”
Beau still didn’t get it.
“It’s 2015,” Tori continued. “Come on, we need to get online and get you some new clothes. They can be here tomorrow at the latest.”
James trailed along when they went upstairs, and then I walked the moms to the back door. Gemma left my Mom and me alone for a minute to exchange a private good-bye.
“Wow, Mom,” I said. “That’s pretty much all I’ve got. I don’t know what to say.”
She gave me a delighted smile. “I guess I did alright, didn’t I?”
“From what I can tell, you were amazing,” I said. “I’m so proud of you.”
Mom looked down, a little uncertain. “Myrtle thinks we should start our training again, me and Gemma,” she said haltingly. “How would you feel about that?”
“I think it’s a fantastic idea,” I said, and I meant it. “I’ll get to spend more time with you.”
The look of pure joy she gave me was worth everything we’d been through that night. As I watched her go down the back steps and join Gemma in the car, there was a spring in her step I’d never seen before, and I liked it.
Before I headed back downstairs, I heard Beau’s scandalized voice inside Tori’s apartment. “A gentleman does not go out by day without his coat, Miss Tori. It simply isn’t done.”
Laughing a little, I went back downstairs only to discover that Amity had gone home, and Myrtle was walking Moira and Barnaby back to the portal. Festus was snoring on the hearth, and Chase was staring into the flames. “Want one?” he asked, holding up his glass.
“Please,” I said, sitting down. “Neat.”
Chase raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t say anything when he poured me a couple of fingers of single malt and refilled his own glass. When we were both settled by the fire, he said, “How are you handling all of this?”
“Amazingly well,” I said, “and mentioning amazing . . . ”
“What?” he asked.
“You,” I answered, “as a mountain lion. Tonight was the first time I’ve seen you change.”
He regarded me silently. “And?” he finally asked.
“You are one studly hunk of kitty cat,” I said, giving him a wicked grin.
Although I saw him blush a little, Chase laughed. “Thank you,” he said, inclining his glass toward me.
Neither one of us said anything, and after a bit, Chase’s own soft snores joined the louder ones emanating from his father. Careful not to wake him, I took the glass out of his hand and draped a blanket over his knees. Then I just sat down and looked at him.
Chase was, indeed, a magnificent mountain lion -- with large teeth and sharp talons that could, no doubt, inflict fatal injuries. Had he ever killed anyone? Could he kill someone if circumstances warranted it? What were the real implications of being with a man who carried such a completely different soul nestled deep in his being? Those were complex questions, none of which I would answer that night, but I wasn’t running from them, and for the time being, that was enough.
EPILOGUE
The little witch could hear the rise and fall of voices from the apartment behind the store, but the girl, Tori, the one who ran the coffee bar, and the two men were completely absorbed in their online shopping. God, how she missed shopping, and the Internet, and texting, and being more than three-inches tall! She couldn’t even think about the state of her complexion without bursting into tears.
Putting aside those thoughts, which only made her situation more unbearable, the witch stepped off the cup and inflated herself. What a night. She had seen it all, and it was better than a pay-per-view movie, but with her limited ability to send dispatches to her master, there was only so much she could tell him. It didn’t matter anyway, though. He just wanted to know the ending. He wouldn’t care about the brave rat or the sword play or the happy reunion.
A pang of guilt shot through her. These seemed like such decent people. Not the kind who would shrink a person, turn their skin green, and plaster them on a cup just for wanting a lock
of Elvis’ hair so much they were willing to steal it. They would understand how Elvis had been the only thing that had seen her through the trouble-twisted story that had been her life before.
Sighing, she pushed off the shelf on her broom and flew to the chessboard, laboriously moving the pieces to arrange the latest message. Thank God she’d learn to read music so she could be in the high school marching band. It wasn’t as good as being a twirler, even though she’d tried to make the squad every year, but some dreams just aren’t meant to be.
When all the pieces were in place, the witch tapped the corner of the board to activate the transmission and then flew back to her shelf. She heard the pawns signaling their position, and even though the sound was flat, she had the sequence right. In fact, the lyric was now stuck in her head and she longed for her DVD player and 55” HD TV so she could watch it again. But those days were over. He’d never let her go now, not when he needed her to be his eyes and ears inside the shop.
As the tiny witch flattened herself out on the side of the cup and fell into what passed for sleep, the man on the receiving end of the message, sitting alone in his study as always, watched the pawns arrange themselves. When he was satisfied that they were done, he touched the harp to translate the notes, listening as the instrument’s voice sang, “Ding dong the witch is dead.” No need to seek a reference for that lyric. The do-gooder Hereditarium were so very kind to do his dirty work for him. Now the next phase of his plan could begin, free of lingering impediments, and this time, he would not fail.
ALSO BY JULIETTE HARPER
This book is the third
in The Jinx Hamilton Mystery Series.
The next in the series will be Witch on First
coming soon on Amazon.
Witch at Heart - Jinx Hamilton Book 1
Witch at Odds - Jinx Hamilton Book 2
Juliette Harper is also the author of The Lockwood Legacy.
Six full-length books are currently available in that series including: