Welcome to Nevermore Bookshop

by Steffanie Holmes

  “Silly girl,” Christina grinned. “There are no villains in Jane Austen.” She swung around toward me, lunging forward, the blade of her sword pointing at my heart—

  This is it. This is how I die.

  Time slowed. Neon fireworks flashed in front of my eyes, and memories flickered through my mind; Heathcliff slamming me against the wall in the bathroom, his eyes looking at me with such wild need; Quoth lying beside me on my bed, our hearts beating in unison; Morrie saying the words, “I love you.”

  The window shattered. Glass tinkled across the floor. A giant black bird flew at Christina, slamming into her chest and sending her reeling.

  Quoth!

  Christina staggered back, her mouth open in surprise. Quoth flapped her wings in her face, trying to get her to drop the sword.

  Quoth’s entrance bought Professor Carmichael precious moments to dodge around Christina and flee to the door. Unfortunately, her fear overcame her, and she sank to her knees, frozen in place on the bed.

  I lunged forward to help Quoth, but I was too late. Christina recovered her balance, grabbed Quoth by the neck, and hauled him off her face. Her face twisted in rage as she slammed him against the wall.

  “Crooooo—” Quoth’s blood splattered against the wall. He bounced against the floor, shuddering to a stop and lying still and silent. My heart pounded in my ears. No, no, please. Not my precious Quoth.

  Christina’s eyes darted from me to Carmichael. She leapt up on the bed and thrust her sword at the professor. The blade sliced through Carmichael’s shoulder, sliding into her flesh with ease. Christina whipped out the blade and Professor Carmichael screamed, clutching at the wound. Blood leaked through her fingers, splattering across the front of her muslin dress. An acrid scent stained the air.

  Quoth cooed, dragging his limp wing along the floor. I rushed toward him, but Christina was faster.

  “If you love that bird so much, watch me gut him!” she yelled.

  “No. Quoth!” I flung myself to the floor, spreading my body over him.

  Christina raised her sword. “Fine. You’ll die, too—”

  There was a flash of skin, a curtain of hair, and a wild cry. I blinked, and Christina was on the floor. Her head bounced as it cracked against the wooden floor. A naked body pinned her down and slammed his foot into her forearm, twisting the blade from her grasp.

  “You…” she gasped. “You were a bird! How did you…”

  Her eyes rolled back in her head.

  “What happened?” Heathcliff demanded, swinging his sword around the room. “Where’s David?”

  “It wasn’t David,” I breathed. “It was Christina.”

  Quoth moved aside, his expression sheepish. He leaned against me, clutching his arm. Heathcliff bent down to examine Christina. Her head lolled to the side, blood trickling down her face. I waited, my heart in my throat.

  Christina didn’t move.

  “No fair!” Morrie wailed, throwing down his sword in frustration. “We were supposed to beat her in a clash of blades. It’s been years since I got to skewer someone with a sword. I was really looking forward to it!”

  “She’s not dead, but she is out cold. Are you hurt?” Heathcliff stood up and scooped me into his arms, his touch gentle as his hands swept over my body. “Did she cut you?”

  “I… I’m fine, but Quoth… he saved me, but she slammed him into the wall pretty hard.” I reached for his body, but he was no longer there. Where did he go? Is he…?

  “Croak?”

  Morrie cradled a grinning raven to his chest. “Poor, poor birdie. I’m so sorry we doubted you. What did she do to you?”

  “Croooooooo—” Quoth’s faint cry tore at my heart.

  “Yooooo hoooooo, Mina? Morrie? The surly one?” Lydia cooed from the hallway. “That stupid bird led me up here, and I brought the nice detective with me, just in case there was an incendiary device, whatever that is—”

  Hayes started as he stepped into the suite. He flicked the rest of the lights on, revealing Carmichael on the bed, clutching her bloody shoulder, Christina slumped, unmoving, on the floor, swords scattered everywhere, and Morrie hugging a raven. “What happened here?”

  “What does it look like? Christina stabbed me, you idiot!” Carmichael yelled.

  “We’re fine,” I croaked out, clutching Heathcliff. “We’re just shaken up. Christina and Professor Carmichael need an ambulance.”

  “Christina will need an undertaker when I’m done with her.” Morrie nuzzled his face into Quoth’s feathers. “No one hurts my Mina or my birdie.”

  Hayes scratched his head. He tore a walkie talkie from his belt and relayed a message to Wilson. “We’ve got paramedics here, but we can’t get you to a hospital right now. The whole building is still in lockdown—”

  “Just get someone up here with medical supplies and some drugs, stat. I fear I might be about to go into shock.” Professor Carmichael balled up a section of the duvet and pressed it against her wound. “Why are you hugging that raven?”

  “Croak?”

  “Because,” Morrie said. “Because he’s family, and I love him. I can say that now, because I’m in touch with my feelings. I love this strange little bird, and I love Heathcliff, and I love Mina, and I even love you, Detective Hayes. Would you like a hug, too?”

  Even with the horror of the situation, Morrie’s words made my heart swell with love. I sank against Heathcliff, wrapping my arm around Morrie so that I could stroke Quoth’s neck and feel his tiny heart beating furiously beneath his feathers. My family. We are all safe.

  Morrie’s admission of love to me, and the way he held Quoth, healed something inside me. It was the final puzzle piece falling into place, revealing an image more radiant and real than I ever thought possible. I knew that all three of my guys cared about each other in the same way they cared about me.

  A corner of my father’s letter scraped against my chest. In all the excitement, I’d hardly thought of him or it the entire weekend. Which was exactly what I’d wanted, but also… it didn’t matter anymore. Whatever his reason for doing it, the reality was that my father abandoned me. But Quoth, Heathcliff and Morrie – they were here for me. They were my family now.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Another day, another murder solved.” Morrie leaned against the side of the building, tapping away on his phone. “If I wasn’t still trying to run a criminal empire, I might consider hanging our shingle out as consulting detectives.”

  Heathcliff shoved the shop door open. A ball of fur launched itself from the blackened depths and wound around Heathcliff’s face. “Meeerrrroooww!” Grimalkin howled, letting every resident of Argleton know just how abominably treated she’d been, locked up in the shop for a night and a day.

  “All right, all right.” Heathcliff tore her off his face. “I’ll get you some food.”

  Grimalkin’s ears pricked up. She immediately jumped down and trotted off in the direction of her food bowl. Cats really are nature’s master manipulators.

  I went through the shop, flicking on lights and lamps as I went. Outside, the sun had already sunk below the horizon, and I could barely see a foot in front of my face. We’d been such a long time at Baddesley Hall, filling Hayes and Wilson in on what we’d uncovered. They found David tied up and stuffed inside Christina’s closet, his own silk stocking shoved in his mouth as a gag. It appeared she cared enough for him not to kill him. He confirmed our story – he knew Christina was seeing Alice in secret, and he’d been escorting Christina through the garden before the memorial when she had him stop to eavesdrop on Alice and my conversation.

  Murder thus solved, we then had to wait for the police to figure out the bomb threat was a hoax and let us all go. I felt terrible about that, but if I hadn’t done it, we wouldn’t have caught Christina in time, and Professor Carmichael would’ve been her next victim. Lydia didn’t get a pony, which was at least one upside. I couldn’t imagine how we’d keep the thing at Nevermore.

  “S
top lighting this place up like the Blackpool Illuminations,” Heathcliff muttered as he slumped behind his desk. In retaliation, I flicked the Snoopy lamp above his head. He waved a hand in front of his face. “Gross. This place smells like customers. How many people did you let in this weekend, Quoth?”

  In response, Quoth flicked the ledger open and pointed to his total for the weekend. Heathcliff glowered at the number. “You put the decimal point in the wrong place.”

  “I didn’t. That’s how many books you can sell at Christmas time if you’re not the Grinch.” His point made, Quoth transformed into his bird form and perched on the chandelier to stare down at Heathcliff, as if daring him to do better.

  While Heathcliff stared at the number in disbelief, I collected my nerve. “Guys, I have something to tell you.”

  Quoth immediately fluttered down from the chandelier and settled on my shoulder. Now? He asked inside my head.

  I nodded.

  “What?” Heathcliff demanded.

  “Don’t tell me,” Morrie added. “You’ve decided that next week we’re going to a Jane Austen dance-a-thon. I’ll go out and buy some shin-guards.”

  As quickly as I could, I explained about the lights I’d been seeing, and what Dr. Clements said at my appointment. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I wanted to, but I was afraid. Talking about it makes it real. I just wanted more time with you all, having fun, solving murders and shelving books, before the lights went out.”

  “You told Quoth,” Morrie said. He looked hurt.

  “I did. Because I needed the comfort only he could give.” I looked at all three of them in turn. “This weekend has shown us why this crazy thing we’re doing actually seems to work. We all have strengths. Morrie’s brain works in incredible ways. Heathcliff’s loyalty and passion protect us all. Quoth’s kindness makes us want to be better people. I love you all. I do.” Tears pricked in my eyes. “I know that’s crazy, but I can’t help it. You’ve bloody wormed your way into my heart and you won’t leave.”

  “We’ll never leave,” Heathcliff growled. “But you can’t keep stuff like this from us.”

  “Agreed. I won’t do that anymore. I promise.” I held my hand over my heart. “If it’s any consolation, I fucking hated every minute of it.”

  Heathcliff crushed me against his body. “I hate that I can’t fix this,” his voice rumbled against my ear. “Just take my eyes. I’m only wasting them reading books and labels on whisky bottles.”

  “Reading books is never a waste,” I sniffed. “That’s how I fell in love with you the first time.”

  “Hey, if she’s having anyone’s eyes, it’s gonna be mine,” Morrie piped up. “Yours are too dark. Blue with her complexion would be magnificent.”

  “She should have mine,” Quoth said quietly. “They work better than your human eyes.”

  “I’m not taking anyone’s eyes,” I laughed, even as fresh tears spilled down my face. “But you guys might have to be my eyes sometimes, if you’re okay with that? Things could change quite quickly for me, and I don’t want any of you to be in this if you’re not comfortable with how it’s going to end.”

  “Don’t say shit like that,” Heathcliff snarled. “I could no sooner forget you than my own existence.” He pressed his lips to mine, crushing out my final doubts in a kiss that sizzled from my lips right through my veins. There he goes, taking my breath away again.

  As if to prove his point, Heathcliff reached behind his desk and turned on a red Japanese lantern light I’d left there. “You brighten the place up,” he muttered.

  Quoth nuzzled my cheek. I’m always here for you, he promised. I broke from Morrie’s kiss to press my lips against Quoth’s soft feathers.

  Morrie stepped up to our little group, his arrogant smirk wavering at the edges. “Don’t make me say it again,” he muttered.

  I tapped my foot.

  Morrie sighed. “Fine. I love you, Mina Wilde. And I love Sir Grumplestein and that stupid bird, too. Happy?”

  “Ecstatic.” I wrapped them all against me, holding them close. My men made of flesh and blood and complications, better in every way than their fictional counterparts. I didn’t ever, ever want to let them go.

  “Will you stay the night?” Morrie asked, his voice hopeful.

  “I’d love to. You have no idea how much. But not tonight,” I sighed. Lydia was kipping on Morrie’s bed, which meant we couldn’t do anything R-rated anyway. In my pocket, my phone vibrated. Again. “There’s something I have to do.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  I stepped out of the rideshare, my heart in my throat. Even though I faced down a crazed murderer earlier today, it was this meeting that made my whole body shake with fear.

  In front of me stood the flat I grew up in. The broken screen hung on rusty hinges. From the depths of the neighbor’s house, someone yelled obscenities. The other neighbor’s kitchen windows were blacked out with newspaper – a sure sign that inside they were cooking drugs. Old car parts and overflowing bins littered the pavement.

  It had been my home once, but it wasn’t anymore.

  I took a deep breath, climbed the steps, and shoved my key in the lock. Pushing the door open a crack with my boot, I checked she wasn’t waiting in the hall to murder me. If she did, I honestly wouldn’t blame her. Seeing and hearing nothing, I pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside.

  “Hey, Mum.”

  She glanced up from the kitchen table. The red rings around her eyes made her look older. When she registered my presence, her whole face collapsed with pent-up emotion. “Mina? Where have you been? I was so worried when you didn’t reply to my messages. I was about to call the police!”

  A wave of defensiveness welled up inside me, but I bit it back. My lower lip quivered. “I know, Mum. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re—”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a real cow lately.” I set my bag down in the hallway. “Can I make some tea? I’d really like to talk.”

  Mum nodded toward the kitchen. Her whole body sagged in her seat, and she wrung her hands together. I studied her as I filled the kettle and set it on the stove. Why didn’t she run at me to hug me and touch me, the way she always did? Something kept her in her seat, staring at me with wary eyes. I hated myself for hurting her so deeply.

  “Where have you been?” she said, her voice hoarse. “Why didn’t you answer my calls? I called the shop, but Allan told me you were at Baddesley Hall. Then I heard there was a murder and a bomb scare. A bomb scare, Mina! You should have told me you were okay.”

  As I collected our two favorite cups and some biscuits from the tin, I noticed the kitchen had been thoroughly cleaned. There was still a faint smattering of glitter everywhere, but that was only because glitter was the herpes of the craft world – no matter how carefully you wash, you can’t stop it spreading.

  “I know. I really am sorry. I wanted to call, but the police wouldn’t let us make calls out while the Hall was in lockdown. It really wasn’t as exciting as they made out – just some dumb local kids playing a hoax.” Minimize it as much as possible, or she’s not going to accept what you say next.

  “What were you even doing up there, anyway? Is this your life now that you’re dating Morrie, swanning around in grand houses and being too good to talk to your mother?”

  “Please don’t think that! First of all, I’m not dating Morrie. Cynthia Lachlan invited me to their fancy Jane Austen weekend because I helped clear her husband’s name in Mrs. Scarlett’s murder. I wish you’d been able to see Baddesley Hall, Mum. It was insane. The room I stayed in was four times the size of this entire flat. There was a gilded fireplace!”

  “It sounds special,” Mum said, her voice closing up.

  I found the sugar bowl hidden behind a stack of soap-making instruction sheets that still bore the scars of the Great Glitter Unicorn Poop Attack. “If I’m ever invited again, I’ll take you with me. I think you’d really enjoy it.”

 
; The kettle boiled. I poured our tea to our individual tastes, and set hers down in front of her. Mum didn’t touch it, her eyes following me as I moved around the table and sat down opposite her.

  I sipped my tea, the hot liquid giving me the courage to say what I needed to say. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve said that a hundred times, but I need to say it again. I’ve been ignoring you because I was angry, and that was wrong. I promise I won’t do that anymore.”

  “I don’t understand you anymore!” Mum shot back. “I’m trying to look after you and keep you safe! I thought that’s why you came home, because with your eyesight you’re going to need so much help. But ever since Ashley was killed and you started working at the bookshop, you’ve been pushing me away. You snap at me whenever I try to help. You don’t listen to me. You’re acting like a spoiled teenager, and that’s not like you at all!”

  “You’re right, I have been acting horribly. That’s on me, too. I resented having to come back to England. I wanted to be in New York, working in fashion. I didn’t want things to change, and I took that resentment out on you.” I set down my cup. “It stops right now, all of it. From now on, I promise I’m going to tell you what’s going on in my life and to let you know what I need so you can help. I’d better start by letting you know that I went to see an ophthalmologist in Barchester last week. I went because I’ve been seeing strange lights blowing up in front of my eyes – flickers of neon colors.”

  Mum gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. “Mina, no. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s okay, Mum. I was scared. I kept it a secret because talking about it made it real, and if it was real it meant I was going blind. But the important thing was that I did tell someone – my friend Allan. He convinced me to make the appointment, and I’m glad I did. I like my new specialist, Dr. Clements. I’m glad she’s going to be looking after me. I’ll take you to meet her next time I have an appointment.”

  “What did she say about the lights?”