by Amy Boyles
He swiped a forearm across his lips. “It all started when I received a strange request from someone out of town.”
I settled back into my chair. I had a feeling this was going to be good.
“The person called himself Johnny Utah.”
I snickered. “Sounds like a stage name.”
Donovan shook his head vigorously. “It’s not. Real name. Anyway, Johnny Utah calls up, says he’s looking for a rare familiar for his niece.”
A sudden wave of panic ratcheted in my throat. “You’re not talking about Hugo, are you?”
Donovan squinted. “What?”
“Oh, sorry. You don’t know his name. The dragon egg I received in the mail.”
A few weeks ago I received a package in the mail that turned out to be a dragon’s egg. After much deliberation and the murder of a magician, for lack of a better word, I ended up keeping the baby that hatched and called him Hugo. Of course, much of the reason why I kept him was because my grandmother Betty Craple convinced me that Donovan had ordered the dragon specifically for me.
Donovan smiled for the first time. “The dragon’s yours. Do you like it?”
I nodded vigorously. “He’s wonderful. Thank you.”
Donovan looked pleased with himself. “You’re welcome. I thought with your talents as a head witch, a dragon would be a smart enough companion for you. Not to mention at some point you may need the extra protection.”
“Tell me about it,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Seems there’s trouble in this town every other week.”
Donovan threaded his fingers and rested them on his stomach. “Anyway, Johnny Utah needed a rare and exotic animal for his niece. Said she’d been begging for one for months, but he wasn’t sure where to get it until he stumbled upon our store on the Web.”
“Are we that easy to find?” I said.
He bobbed his head right and left. “You have to know what you’re looking for.”
“Got it. Go on.”
He rubbed his forehead. “It went against my better judgment to order such a creature, but the money was good. Not that the store is hurting for it,” he said, gesturing. “It does good business.”
“It does.”
He fisted his hand and dropped it on his thigh. “It was about the search for such an animal. The dragon egg, you’d think that was hard, but really it’s not so difficult to find those. There are several suppliers, though they screen the recipients carefully.” He wagged a finger at me. “Many people sell dragons on the black market. I don’t know if you’re aware of that.”
I nearly choked. “Yes. I’m aware. We nearly had a situation with Hugo.”
Donovan eyed me sternly. “But the dragon is okay.”
My cheeks flamed from embarrassment. “Yes, he’s fine.”
Donovan might’ve looked like Santa Claus, but boy, he had a way of staring a person down like only a Craple could. Trust me, I know this because I’d spent a couple months with Betty, his sister, and was she a handful.
Donovan glanced at his watch. “I don’t know how much time I have, so let me be quick. The animal created a unique challenge. Could I find one, and if so, could I deliver it to Johnny Utah’s niece?”
“Did you?”
Donovan nodded. “I was able to procure the creature. However, it took months and the people who gave it to me—well, let’s just say I knew in my heart I shouldn’t have trusted them.”
He wiped the kerchief over his forehead once again. “I knew it, but they were the only lead that had panned out. The only lead.”
I was intrigued. I leaned forward. “Who were they?”
His voice turned deep and foreboding. “They’re called the Sensational Singers.”
Mmm. Not what I expected. “I’m sorry? Did you say the Sensational Singers?”
“Yes. They’re like the von Trapp Family Singers. It’s a mom, dad and their children. You know, the ones from The Sound of Music? But these folks are Southern and travel all over the world.”
“Wow,” I said, unsure of what else to say.
“I tracked the family all the way to Lookout Mountain.”
“In Tennessee?”
“Right.”
Not that far to say he tracked them all the way there. But, whatever.
“They had what I needed. I paid a pretty penny for it, too.”
He rested his face in his palms, and then as if out of habit, he pulled a silver coin from his pocket, flipped it a few times and then slid it back in his pants. “If only I’d known then what I know now, I never would’ve bought the creature. Never would’ve paid one penny for it, much less the thousands that I did.
“But anyway, I was elated to finally have it in my hands and called Johnny Utah as soon as my feet touched back down in Magnolia Cove. He appeared a day later, paid a handsome sum and left.”
The tension was thick in the room. It was tempting to speak, to prod Uncle Donovan to discover what had been so bad that the poor man had faked his own death. And why, if he was still in hiding, had he returned to Magnolia Cove?
And how was I now a target, too?
Donovan took a sip of water. “Things went well for a while, and I didn’t think anything of it until Johnny Utah called. He was upset. Something had happened to his niece, and he was convinced it was related to the creature I’d sold him.”
“What’s that?”
Donovan’s hand shook as he placed the water on the desk. “His niece disappeared.”
TWO
“Disappeared?” I said. “But how is that related to the animal familiar?”
Donovan brought his trembling fingers to his mouth. “The creature I found, the one I’d tracked all the way to Lookout Mountain, wasn’t a simple cockatoo or puppy. No, it was a vampire bat.”
I sank back into my chair. “A vampire bat? Like a vampire that changes into a bat and sucks your blood?”
“Yes,” Donovan said, “but the vampire is supposed to be locked inside the bat.”
“Okay, now you’ve lost me.”
He exhaled. “Let me go back. Johnny Utah is not a regular guy. He’s mafia.”
“That’s bad,” I said. I yanked open the mini-fridge and grabbed a water for myself. This entire conversation was making me parched. I unscrewed the cap, and like most crappy water bought from the store, liquid dribbled down the side, wetting my hand. I flicked it off and took a long drink.
Donovan continued. “Johnny’s niece wanted the bat because they’re not just mafia, they’re werewolf mafia.”
Could this get more complicated? “Is that bad?”
“Worse kind of mafia there is. Let me put it this way—breaking your thumbs is just the start of what they’ll do if they get ahold of someone who’s betrayed them.”
I swallowed a knot in the back of my throat. “Sounds pretty darn bad.”
“It is.” He scratched his head, reminding me of an absentminded professor.
“But I still don’t understand the vampire bat situation.”
“Oh, right. The bat. In case you don’t know, werewolves and vampires have kind of a thing.”
“A bad thing or a good thing?”
“Well, it’s a bad thing. The two don’t get along. Goes back centuries. For the most part living in Magnolia Cove, we’re insulated from all that. We’re witches and wizards, and only witches are allowed into town.”
I swiped away a bead of sweat that had rolled down my forehead. “Right. I knew that, and I feel better knowing mafia werewolves can’t enter.”
He wagged a finger at me. “Hold your relief. Let me finish telling you about the bat.”
“Right, the mysterious vampire bat that makes no sense to me.”
Donovan tipped his head and stared at me. “You know, you are a lot like your grandmother.”
I laughed so hard water jetted from my nose. “You’re kidding, right?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m not. You’re a lot like Betty. That’s not a bad thing.”
“Not a
good thing either. Have you seen her snort magic from her nostrils?”
“Oh, that’s tame compared to where she used to expel it from.”
I raised my palm. “Don’t tell me. Please don’t. There are some things I’d still like to be innocent of.”
For the first time since he arrived, Donovan cracked a smile. “She’s a character, that’s for sure. But the vampire bat—”
“Yes. Tell me.”
“This is the way it works. It’s a little confusing, so tell me if you get lost.”
“Will do.”
He stared at a spot on the wall behind me as if gathering his thoughts. “Johnny Utah’s niece, being a werewolf, wanted a vampire cursed to live as a bat for her pet.”
I grimaced. “She didn’t want to hurt it, did she?”
Donovan shook his head. “Oh no, she’s young, the niece. Not that young, college age—so old enough to have some common sense but not so young she wanted to dress the bat up as one of her dollies and play tea.”
“Nice to know.”
He sipped his drink again. “The vampire had been cursed to live as a bat—that’s what the father of the Sensational Singers told me. Do you know how hard it is to find a vampire bat that’s a real vampire who won’t change out of the bat form?”
I frowned. “What’s the big deal about the vampire changing out of the bat body?”
“First of all, either a werewolf would be killed by the vampire, or the vampire would be killed by a werewolf; that’s number one. The second is, what if the vampire was male and he took advantage of Johnny’s niece? What if they had a child? The creature would be some sort of vampire and werewolf hybrid. An abomination, according to both groups of creatures.”
“Sounds a lot like that Underworld movie.”
Donovan leaned forward and spoke in a dark voice. “The difference is that’s fiction and this is reality. If such a creature existed, it would be hunted to extinction on both sides. In fact, witches might even take up a wand against the innocent victim of the union.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Think of the unmatched strength such an animal would have. It could create vampires, but it would also be feral as a wolf. The creature would be nearly unstoppable.”
I paused. “Axel is nearly unstoppable, and he’s not part vampire.”
Donovan’s mouth curled into a smile. “So you’ve met him.”
My face heated as if I’d stuck it in front of a roaring fire. “Yes, you could say that.”
He gave me a nod of understanding. “Axel is part wizard and part werewolf. He’s strong, there’s no doubt about it, but he can’t create vampires.”
“So are vampires made the way movies portray it?”
He took a long pull of his water before setting it down. “There are two ways to become a vampire. The first is that a human is bitten and then changes. The second way is when a child is born to two vampires. The offspring will have the strength and blood of the creatures coursing through their veins, but there’s generally a ritual that occurs to actual turn the person into a blood-sucking creature. A hybrid of werewolf and vampire could create new vampires—creatures of the undead, at the snap of its fingers. I don’t know if that’s what happened between Johnny’s niece and the bat. Problem is, no one does.”
“Because she’s disappeared.”
“Right.”
“And you’re on the run because of it?” I said.
He deflated into his chair. “Yes. Because I didn’t vet the creature. But how was I supposed to know?”
I cracked my knuckles. “Okay. Go back. I still don’t understand what happened that puts this blame on you. The niece could’ve disappeared for a thousand reasons.”
“Because,” he said slowly, “from what my sources told me, someone went to check on the niece one morning after she hadn’t come down for breakfast. What they found was enough.”
“And that was?” Good grief, couldn’t he just come out and tell me? My impatience would be worn threadbare by the time Donovan spewed what had happened.
“What was found were two small trails of blood on her pillow. They were small, and not far apart. The bites were deemed to have come from a bat based on the width. Now Johnny, being a nice guy, came to me and explained what had to happen next.”
“Which was?”
Donovan scratched his thinning hair. “He said since I had sold the vampire bat, I was directly to blame. However, I could make it up one way.”
“Which was?”
“I had to find the bat myself and kill it.”
“What?”
He nodded, embarrassed. “Those were the terms. I had to find it, kill it and return Princess to Johnny.”
“Princess?”
“That’s her name—the niece.”
“You’re kidding.”
He shook his head.
“And if you don’t?”
Donovan cringed. “Let’s just say it won’t end well for me.”
I rubbed my temples. “This whole thing is just awful. It wasn’t your fault the von Trapp family or whatever sold you tainted goods.”
“Tell the werewolves that.”
I cringed. “I’m guessing they’re not the easiest to reason with.”
“Oh, they’re easy to reason with if you’re another werewolf or if you’ve got something they need.”
“That puts you on the outs.”
“Tell me about it.”
I threaded my fingers through my hair. “So what’d you do?”
Donovan shrugged. It was done in defeat, as if his course had been laid out for him years before. “I did the only thing I could when I realized I’d never be able to track down the vampire bat.”
“What’s that?”
“Faked my own death and went into hiding. At the same time I knew you were coming of age, so I shipped a key to you. I figured the werewolf mafia wouldn’t bother you since you didn’t know anything about the transaction.”
I tapped my fingers on the desk. “But why are you here now? Why come back from the grave? Why not just stay hidden?”
The look on his face changed dramatically. Donovan appeared to be a man with good intentions who probably let most things run off his back like melted butter. Oh, melted butter. Y’all ever tried that deep-fried butter? I haven’t, but boy, it suddenly sounded really good.
Right on cue, my stomach growled.
Apparently I needed some lunch before I bumped into a big tub of Country Crock and ate the entire contents with nothing but a spoon. Then I’d have to undo the button that cinched my jeans because I’d clearly gain ten pounds in one sitting.
Donovan cleared his throat. I must’ve gotten a glazed look in my eyes from thinking about food. That’ll do it every time.
“I would have remained hidden, but the thing is, Johnny discovered I’m alive.”
“Oh, that’s not good.”
He smoothed a palm over his thinning hair. “No, it’s not. I guess Johnny’s got the bright idea that if I’m alive, then you might know where I am—seeing as how you inherited the shop from me.”
I shook my head so violently I almost fell out of the chair. “Me? I didn’t even know you were alive until now.”
He patted the air. “I know. I came to you first, to make sure you’re safe. The next place I’m headed is to find Johnny, let him know you’re innocent.”
I exhaled a huge sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.” Fear constricted my throat. I inhaled a staggering breath. “But if you go to Johnny and tell him that I’m innocent, he’s going to hurt you, right?”
Donovan nodded sadly. “That’s the fear. But what am I supposed to do? I can’t let my great-niece be harmed for my mistakes.”
That was true. We all had to go with whatever lemons life threw at us. “How did Johnny find out you’re alive?”
Donovan slid his hands down his thighs. “Apparently I went out for Mexican food in the wrong town, had too many margaritas and started talking about how I’d
outsmarted the mob by faking my own death.”
My jaw dropped. “That was so not smart of you.”
“I know,” he said, hanging his head in embarrassment. “I should’ve stayed away from the tequila. It gets me every time.”
I smirked. “I understand that. I’ve known people who’ve made pacts with God that they’d never drink tequila again as long as they lived to see another day.”
Donovan laughed. “I don’t get that drunk.”
I shot him a dark look.
He coughed into his hand. “Well, maybe I do. But anyway, I came to tell you that I’m going to clear everything up with Johnny, that there’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“We won’t let you go to Johnny alone. The more people around, the less likely he is to off you.”
Donovan nodded. “Good point.”
I gave my uncle a wide smile. “Honestly I’m just so glad you’re alive. Now you can teach me all about these animals. There’s stuff I know, sure. But there’s so much more you can show me. I’d love to have time with the master.”
Donovan blushed. “I wouldn’t call myself a master.”
I tipped my head. “Are you kidding? According to Axel, you’re legendary.”
“Well,” he said bashfully, “maybe I’ve matched a hedgehog or two with an evil witch in the North Pole.”
“What? An evil witch in the North Pole?”
He scratched his head. “Yeah. It’s a story.”
The welcome bell tinkled above the front the door, announcing a customer’s arrival.
I rose. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back. Maybe they won’t stay too long.”
Donovan dismissed me with a wave. “There’s no rush. Now that I’m back in Magnolia Cove, I already feel safer. No rush,” he said again, shooting me a warm smile.
I edged past the desk and out into the front room. Milling about the animals stood a young man who looked to be in his early twenties. I’d never seen him before. He had yellow eyes, a kind smile and golden hair that he’d tied back with a leather thong. He wore a suit that nearly shimmered. The material looked like it had been scooped out of a pearl. He shot me a wide, confident smile.
“Morning,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
