Barely Bewitched (23 page)

Chapter 39

I rolled down the divider to check on Rollie and Johnny. Rollie was sleeping like a six-and-a-half-foot-tall baby, curled up on the cushioned bench. Johnny sat on the seat that had its back to mine and Zach’s. Johnny turned his head to look at us over his shoulder.

“Hi there, Tammy Jo. What you and Deputy Sutton like to drink?”

“What have we got?”

“We have bourbon, whiskey, Coke. Orange juice, fizz water, no-fizz water, and vodka.”

“Coke, please. Zach?”

Zach shook his head.

“Hungry? Light to dark, we have: macadamia nut, cracker, cashew, olive, caviar.”

“No thanks,” I said, taking my Coke.

“The car is stocked with caviar?” Zach said, shaking his head.

“Well, it a limo,” Johnny pointed out with a wave of his hand. “But sadly, no milk for kitty.”

“Sorry, Merc,” I said, taking a swig of Coke. “When we get home, if we’ve still got a fridge, I’ll get you something.”

“What is this? A tea party?” Zach mumbled.

“Action heroes gotta eat,” I said, unperturbed.

As Zach turned onto my street, the sun rose, letting us take in the full aftermath of Incendio’s block party. Five burned-up cars. One partially burned front porch. And several charred trees, which I was sure to hear about from the hobgoblins.

When we got to my house, there was no sign of Incendio. We all climbed out of the car except Rollie. Zach kept his gun handy as we looked around. The front was scorched, the door and windows gone, and the smell of soot was strong enough to choke a smoker.

“I need to see how bad it is,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. It was just starting to hit me. Incendio had destroyed my home. The place I’d grown up in.

The hall and living room were wrecked, and so was part of the kitchen. I spotted the duffel, but was too shaken to retrieve it. My gaze fixed on the blackened, warped pictures on the walls and the ash that used to be keepsakes and knickknacks.

My eyes swam in tears.

“It okay, Tammy Jo,” Johnny said, putting an arm around my shoulders. “I help you redecorate. It going to be okay.”

“Thanks, Johnny.” I sniffed.

I glanced at Zach, and he held out a hand to me. I moved to him and let him fold his arms around me.

“C’mon, darlin’. Don’t cry. Johnny’s right. We’ll rebuild it, and you can turn it into Marrakech or Bangladesh or whatever strikes your fancy.” Zach kissed the top of my head.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Edie said.

Edie! Finally!

I whipped my head around to find her standing in the hall, staring at the burned walls. “Some things cannot be replaced. The vintage black-and-whites of the Brooklyn Bridge, of my parents’ Park Avenue apartment—those were one of a kind.”

“You’re here!” I said, wiping my tears away. “I’ve been so worried. Where have you been?”

“Oh, have you missed me?” she said, her tone light as meringue, but tart, too, like the lemon filling under it. I guessed she was mad at me for letting the house get burned, but maybe if she’d been around to help me, it might not have gotten that way.

I squared my shoulders. “Well, I have been having a lot of trouble. I wish you would’ve checked on me. You promised to come back with information,” I accused. I shot a glance to Zach and froze. He was looking at Edie.
Directly at her.

“What’s . . . What’s going on?” I asked.

Edie glided forward and stopped in front of me. “I’ve been
trying
to see you! About a hundred times a day. I couldn’t get through. Someone cast a spell to keep me from reaching you.”

I blinked. “Why would they do that?”

“They?” she echoed.

“Jordan and Incendio.”

She shook her head. “
They
wouldn’t. Incendio’s a one-trick pony. Fire. That’s his entire repertoire of powerful magic. And Jordan Perth? He couldn’t contain a summer breeze, let alone a spirit of my resonance.” She glanced at the nails on her curled fingers like she was interested in the state of her manicure. “Let’s see?” She buffed her nails against her dress. “Who else in town do we know that can do complex spells? Someone powerful, who always has to get his own way?”

“He wouldn’t have done that.”

She fixed her beautiful almond eyes on me and raised her thin black brow. “He would and did. The only reason I can be in your presence now is that his spell has failed. I don’t know why. I suppose he had to cast something complicated that required all his focus, so he couldn’t afford to expend the energy blocking me anymore.”

He wouldn’t have,
I thought helplessly.

Except the spell to keep her away from me had failed just when Bryn’s magic ceased to exist because he’d gone into a death coma. A big coincidence. Too big.

The back of my throat burned, and I bit my lip hard to stop myself from tearing up again. How could he have done something like that? She was my family. I took deep breaths, squeezing my hands into tight fists, trying to concentrate on anything except the way my heart hurt.

I felt like I had when he trapped me in that circle. Like a fool. My muscles tightened until they ached. Did he think I wouldn’t find out? That it wouldn’t ruin our friendship? If so, he’d been wrong. Terribly wrong.

And his life was in my hands. I could decide to help him . . . or not.

Johnny wandered away to straighten the furniture. His tidying up was a lost cause, but I didn’t say so. When I finally got my emotions under control, I turned to Zach.

“How long have you been able to see Edie?” I demanded.

He shifted his weight and looked uncomfortable. “I thought I might have seen her on the night I almost died.”

“You’ve known all this time! And you were going to send me to Chulley?”

“No!” Zach put his hands out as if he could use them to ward off my fury. “I thought I imagined her that night. Then she showed up again and kept talking to me . . . It was long after we skipped dinner at TJ’s. She didn’t appear until after I got out of jail. I thought my guilty conscience was playing tricks on me.”

“I suspected that he’d seen me on the night of the werewolf battle,” Edie said. “Once a human sees a ghost, the connection between them is forged. When I couldn’t break through Lyons’s infernal spell, I remembered that. I went to Zach’s house and lingered, talking to him rather incessantly. Finally, he told me to go away.”

“Which she never did,” Zach said grimly.

“A lucky thing for you both,” Edie said. “My spirit friends keep me informed. Zach wouldn’t have known to look for you in Charlie Buckland’s house. You would have stumbled out onto the street, and Incendio would’ve killed you.” She floated over to Zach. “Admit it. I’ve been helpful.”

He nodded, but he was looking at me. “She knew things that I couldn’t have known. I finally realized my mind couldn’t have been making her up.” He looked away, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry as hell that I didn’t believe you, darlin’,” he whispered. I saw his jaw muscles tighten and, when he looked back, his eyes were bright. The only time I’d ever seen Zach cry was at his momma’s funeral, so I was stunned to see him choked up over hurting me.

I swallowed against the tightness in my throat.

“I don’t deserve it, but I sure wish you’d forgive me,” he said.

I lunged forward to hug him. He held me tight, and relief washed over me. Now I’d be able to talk to him about supernatural things, and maybe we could save our relationship.

It took me a few minutes to remember that there was more going on than my personal life. I pulled back. “We can talk more about every thing later,” I said with a weak smile.

“That’ll be good,” Zach said.

“Edie,” I said to get her attention. “Abby Farmer is a changeling and to save the town I have to find her.”

“A changeling? Here? The gates are closed so tightly that only the tiniest fae can crawl under them. Nymphs, hobgoblins, sprites. Since when can a changeling or anything human-sized get through?”

I shrugged.

“But you’re sure?”

“Pretty sure. She’s shot me twice with iron arrows and confessed to being one.”

Edie wrinkled her nose. “Arrows? It’s positively medieval,” she said. “They’re monsters who call themselves queens and knights and courtiers. They wield javelins and long bows. It’s like a Renaissance faire run by Tim Burton.”

She called them monsters,
I thought, my pride prickling. The ones I’d seen through the rift had looked monstrous, but still. “I have to ask you something, Edie,” I said, unable to stop myself. I moved away from Zach and beckoned her, so we could talk alone. I would tell Zach everything, but not all at once.

Edie floated to me.

“Who was my father?” I asked softly.

“You want to talk about this now?”

Yes, I need to know!
“I’m half faery, right? So who was he?”

“Who told you that? Lyons?”

“Don’t waste time! Just tell me the truth right now!”

Edie sighed. “I wasn’t with her,” she began. “Marlee visited cousins in Scotland for the summer, while the locket and Melanie stayed here. When Marlee came home, she was pregnant. She told us it was a summer fling with a boy her age. We believed her. There was no reason not to.”

“But?”

“But the queen of the Seelie court sent assassins to kill her. Marlee was poisoned, and the magic Melanie had to cast to save her—” Edie shook her head. “Such dangerous magic. Then a faery knight, beautiful and deadly, came to protect her. Settling in Duvall was his idea. A powerful tor that would enhance her powers. And fae territory that belongs to the Unseelie, so that no member of the Seelie court could enter here without starting a war.”

“So you moved here to hide?”

“She never admitted that the knight was her lover, but you had his hazel eyes and that golden skin, so unusual for a redhead. When you were six, the boys in the neighborhood were playing cowboys and Indians. You picked up a bow and hit the target ten out of ten times when you’d never been taught. And there was your distorted magic.” Edie pursed her phantom lips. “That unnatural union of theirs should never have happened. It ruined your magic.”

“What was his name?” I whispered.

“She called him Caedrin, but I don’t know if that’s his real name. Faeries conceal their true names.”

I clenched my fists. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? Why didn’t they?”

“We didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?”

She nodded. “We always hoped to help you come into your powers. Witchdom would’ve condemned you for being a half-breed, if they’d known. We kept it a secret to protect you from the shame.”

I blinked, taken aback. “You’re saying you were ashamed of me. All three of you?”

“No. How can you ask that? Of course
we
weren’t.”

My head had started to pound. They’d been lying to me my whole life. It was the second time in an hour that I’d felt betrayed. Dizzy and sick, I held my head. All I needed to round out my day was for Zach to say we’d never really been married. That the minister had been an actor, and everyone in town but me had known the truth. I rubbed my temples.

“We only did it to protect you,” Edie said. “We adore you and always have.”

“Sure,” I said hollowly. “Well, you seem to know about them, about faeries, I mean. So tell me. There was a big spill of pixie dust. How can I re-collect it?”

“That I don’t know.”

I walked to the duffel bag of weapons and iron ammunition. I shouldered the soot-covered bag. “I have to find Abby Farmer.”

“I’ll help you.”

My wounded pride wanted to refuse Edie’s help, but I just nodded.

“I’ll talk to my friends to see what they know about the changeling, and I’ll be back very soon,” Edie added, before she disappeared.

When I turned, I guess my face showed how bad I was feeling because Zach rushed across the room to me.

“What? What’s wrong, darlin’?”

“Nothing. I have to go.”

“Johnny, c’mon. We’re going,” Zach said.

Johnny’s eyes widened. I was surprised, too, but happy that Zach seemed willing to accept my friends along with my secrets.

Zach whistled at Merc and jerked his head toward the door. Johnny fell into step with us.

“Where we going, Deputy Zach?” Johnny asked.

“To find Farmer.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“It’s your town, too,” Zach said.

Johnny smiled. “Yes, it my town, too. Happy to help. Why we need to find a farmer?”

Chapter 40

The mayor had cancelled Du-Fall Days, but people weren’t listening to him any more than they were listening to their own good sense. The tailgaters were lined up in parking lots and along Main Street. By seven in the morning people were drunk and disorderly. By midday, we were having to stop every half hour so Zach could break up a fight or lend a hand to the other deputies and volunteer firemen. He helped control the crowds while they put out small fires and rescued people who thought rooftops were good places to dance and dive from. So far, there were eight broken legs, ten broken arms, and three broken jaws that I knew about.

Of course, the thing I cared about most was finding the Abby changeling, and my eyes were always scanning the crowds. To my dismay, I hadn’t spotted her once all morning.

Rollie slept through everything. Merc napped on and off, too, and I thought, not for the first time, that vampires and cats have plenty in common. I was so tired that if I’d known a spell for it, I would have turned myself into a tabby and slept on a windowsill. In truth, I suspect that Zach did let me doze a couple of times, because time seemed to bleed away so quickly.

At the moment, I sat in the car waiting for Zach to finish with his keeping-the-peace duty. I looked again at the crayon-colored map Imposter Abby had done at my house. We’d checked out all the parks and wooded areas for her until they’d gotten so overgrown that they weren’t safe.

As the territories to check got smaller and smaller, I felt more and more hopeless. Maybe she’d gone underground to hide until the fae army came through when the doors opened at nightfall. Maybe Bryn would be hours-dead by the time I found her.

I checked to be sure the divider was up to protect Rollie from the light before I rolled down the limo’s side window.

“Y’all, get off the car, please,” I said to the five teenagers who had climbed on the hood. They looked about fourteen, all gangly limbs and shaggy hair.

“No,” a pimply-faced boy said.

“In a minute we’re going to be driving away from here, and, if you’re sitting up there, you might slip off and hurt yourself. So go ahead and get off the car. Please.”

“No.”

“Listen—”

“There she is!” someone shouted.

I turned my head and saw Jenna Reitgarten rushing toward me with several men and women.

“She’s the one who brought this upon us. She’s a witch! I saw her.”

Uh-oh.

I’d like to have conjured a protection spell, but of course that was beyond my skills, so I did the next-best thing. I rolled up the window.

“Yeah, that’ll stop them,” I muttered sarcastically. My positive attitude had taken a siesta with Merc.

I locked the doors and started the car. Then I tapped on the windshield to remind the boys that the limo’s hood was a no-parking zone. They ignored my warning by lying on their bellies and putting their faces on the windshield to make obscene tongue gestures.

“Stubborn little jerks,” I grumbled. “I’ll show you.” I turned on my wipers and jammed my finger down on the wiper fluid button. I sprayed them like they were wild dogs I was trying to run off my lawn.

They reacted in much the same way dogs would’ve. First they were startled by the fluid, then they glowered and snarled at me as the liquid dripped down their faces.

Jenna and her followers banged on the side of the limo. I checked my rearview mirror. A pair of mopeds had parked too close and boxed us in. I looked for Zach, but he was lost somewhere in the crowd.

Jenna slammed her whole weight, about ninety pounds’ worth, against the limo. I was tempted to just sit and watch her until she got tired and went away, but her friends were heftier and when one of them brandished a handgun, I apologized to the mopeds and threw the car into reverse.

I crashed into the bikes and rolled over them, swinging the wheel. I shifted into drive and began tapping people with the car at a speed of about half a mile per hour.

“You better get out of the way,” I mumbled.

“You hit me!” one of Jenna’s crew yelled.

“Just a tap. That’s why they named it a bumper.”

Despite their profanities and protests, the herding was working. I almost had a clear path onto the street when the man with the gun lost control of his temper. I saw the barrel, my breath caught, and I ducked. I heard the pop, but not what I expected to come next. I opened one eye. No shattered glass. No handgun poking through the window to shoot and kill me where I lay.

I sat up and looked at the mark on the window. Merc yowled.

“Oh, you’re up now? It’s about time,” I said, driving forward slowly. “Look at that, Merc.” I tapped the driver’s side window. “Bryn’s car has bulletproof glass. You’ve got to admit he’s got that planning-ahead thing down pat.”

The gunman shouted at me. It was an accident when I ran over his foot, but I wasn’t all that sorry about it.

He shot at the window again. The bullet ricocheted, and his buddy in the TO HELL WITH THE DEVIL T-shirt went down.

I slammed on the brake. “Oh, no! He’s shot.”

Merc jumped onto my lap and pressed his nose to the glass to look out.

The man on the ground was yelling and holding his bloody leg where the bullet had gotten him.

I caught my breath. “He’s okay—well, except for being shot. But he’s alive, which is what counts on a day like today.” I started the car forward again. “C’mon. We gotta get our bulletproof glass away from that guy’s bullets! We’ll have to leave Zach here.”

Someone had parked a half-finished float of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in our way. Most of the floats weren’t done. Under the influence of the dust, people just didn’t have the proper stick-to-it-ness. Buffy looked like the character in
The Mummy
before he got all the way regenerated, but the half of her face that was finished was real pretty. She also had a big stake in her hand. I was glad that Rollie was asleep. Although, I’m not sure much really scares vampires anyway. Again, they’re kind of like jungle cats. I wished I could claim the same.

I put my car in park and gunned the engine, nodding at the boys on the hood. They seemed to sense my determination to get my speed up over five miles per hour because they tumbled off the car.

As soon as the path in front of me was clear of people, I shifted into drive and plowed forward. I slammed into the back of the flatbed trailer carrying the float, making it swing far enough to let me pass.

I heard a thump and looked up. Unfortunately, Buffy hadn’t been anchored, so she fell on top of us. Luckily, just like on the show, she was light as a feather. I had to jerk the wheel back and forth to shake her off the roof, then I planted my foot to the floor and roared down Main, swerving to avoid people and finally mowing down some shopping carts to get onto Elm, which thankfully was deserted.

I slowed down to the speed limit out of habit and looked at Merc. “What should we do? Try to track Imposter Abby on foot?”

He cocked his head.

“Or should we assume she went back to the fae and try to sneak into their world?” I shivered at the thought. How would I even do that? And if I got inside, how would I keep them from killing me while I looked for her? I shook my head. Overwhelmingly bad odds.

Merc swiped the air with his paw.

“I know it’s not a great idea, but what do you suggest? The sun’s going down in a couple hours, and I’ve got to save Bryn’s life. It’s the right thing to do even if he is a backstabbing, ghost-blocking traitor.” I took a deep breath. “Besides, if he dies, I won’t get to give him a piece of my mind. And I mean to.”

As if she knew I was talking about avenging her, Edie appeared in the passenger seat.

“Did you find her?” I demanded.

“Better,” she said with a smile.

I frowned. She stroked Merc’s fur with a phantom finger.

“Well?”

“Say you forgive me.” Her rosebud lips fashioned the perfect pout.

“Do we have time for this?” I said, exasperated. “No, we don’t!” I added, in case she didn’t realize that was one of those rhetorical questions.

“Say it.”

If she’d been alive, I would have killed her. Merc hissed at me to hurry up. I sighed.

“Yep, okay. I forgive you.”

“That didn’t sound especially sincere.”

“Edie!”

“All right!” She smiled. “I got her name. Her
real
name.”

I blinked and looked at Merc, who stared back blankly at me. I turned my head toward Edie again. “What good does that do?”

“Oh, not much,” she said, glancing at her nails casually. Then she raised her eyes, and they met mine. “It just allows you to call her to you and to command her to do your will.”

I slammed on the brake, causing me and Merc to lurch forward, and from the sound of the thump for either Johnny or Rollie to fall on the floor in the back. Edie, of course, sat serenely in her seat, polishing her fingernails against her wine-colored satin gown.

“Is that true?”

“Absolutely. I got her name from a ghost who owes me a favor. The door at the base of Macon Hill was partially ajar, and the Unseelie Queen’s First Ambassador called the changeling to him to give her orders. My friend overheard it all.”

I slapped my palm against the steering wheel. “Finally, a break! What’s her name and what do I do to use it?”

“All’s forgiven?”

I huffed a sigh. “Yes.”

“Nixella Pipken Rose.”

“Okay,” I said, flinging the door open.

“Just one thing. You have to remember that she’ll do exactly what you say, so choose your words carefully.”

My muscles tightened. Why did everything have to be tricky? I got out of the car and stood looking around, not totally believing it would work.

“Nixella Pipken Rose, I command you to come to me now.”

With the soft pop of a quarter dropping into a glass of water, she appeared.

“How dare you!”

“Be quiet,” I said.

“How did you find out my name? How? How? How?” she shouted in a whisper.

“Be silent.”

Her voice disappeared like a light flipping off.

Wow.
“Hang on,” I said, and she grabbed my arm and held it. “Um, no. Let go. I meant wait there.”

She rolled her small eyes at me, and I made a face before reaching in the car to get the duffel. “I have a list. I want you to mark every ingredient that was on the poison arrow you shot me with.”

I dug the list out of the bag and gave her a pen. Nixella looked at me sullenly.

“Do it now,” I added.

She took the papers and started checking things.

“Poison?” Edie asked me, concerned.

“I’m okay. I just need to make an antidote.”
For the family’s archenemy.

Nixella finished and thrust the papers at me. I didn’t put my hand out.

“On the back of the first page, write down anything else that was in the poison or on the arrow or inside the arrow that’s not on the list.”

She made a face at me and started writing. After about five minutes I took the list from her and looked at what she’d written.

Iron, you stoopid witch.
Water, you retch-ed cow.
Mud from the Camaron bog, you rotton bitch.

Then there was a bunch more misspelled profanity. Guess there are no spelling bees in faerie land.

“Iron, water, and mud? Nothing else? Nod for yes, if that’s true.”

She nodded.

“The bog mud. Is it poisonous? I command you to answer my questions without cursing or shouting.”

She clenched her fists and jumped up and down until her face was as red as a stop sign. “Not to you. Not to witches.”

“But it can be poison?”

“Yes, to selkies.”

“Selkies?”

“Magical creatures. Shifters. They live most of their time as seals, but they can turn into human form. Unlike your terrible race, they’re very pure of heart.”

Well, that ruled Bryn out.

“What’s the antidote for it?”

“Why do you care?” Nixella spat.

“I command you to answer.”

“It’s shark oil.”

“Are all the herbs and metals listed as antidotes for the poison ingredients correct?”

She snatched the list and tore it down the middle.

“Stop!”

She froze.

“I command you to look at the list and tell me if those ingredients are right for making an antidote. And I command you to stay still except for looking at it and talking to me.”

“They are! They are correct. Now let me go!”

“Give me the list.”

She shoved it at me.

“You told me that the dust will keep circulating around Duvall because of the wind here. How can the pixie dust be re-collected?”

“Smear honey or syrup or warm molasses on the tree trunks in the four corners and center of the town. The dust will be drawn to the sweetness and get trapped in the stickiness.”

“If the doors of the land of faery are closed until All Hallow’s Eve, how do you get in and out?”

“Any fae can return to the Never anytime he wants, but getting a greater fae out through a sealed door is harder than shoving a big fat human through a keyhole. In my case, it’s easy peasy because I have a special talent for it. It’s one of my many gifts,” she said smugly. “Unlike some untalented half faeries who most of the time can’t even see the creatures of the Never or the doors to come and go.”