Fur Magic Boxed Set: Talisman, Sage, Fawn, Lola: Paranormal Romantic Comedy (24 page)

Chapter 10

The Silverchime mansion was anything but silver. Whatever majesty had run in the Silverchime bloodline, whatever beauty in the building, had been scoured clean by its current occupants. Everything they touched turned to stone. Of the gargoyle variety.

The Chokecherry witches had ruined the place. Not that it was rundown, apart from the tangled weeds on the front lawn, but they’d made it gothic, dark, horrifying. It was the perfect picture of a haunted house before it became abandoned and ramshackle.

A central building was joined to two lower brick constructions. All three edifices had gabled roofs and gothic windows. A light was on in the foremost room, a floor up. Flickering in quality. Seriously, this place was creepsville with a capital ‘C.’

Penelope was nowhere to be seen.

You got eyes on her, Sage?

I’m looking, cool your paws.

They’re burning hot. I’m a fireball. So hot Lance Armstrong tested positive for Snapple.
  Humor was my weapon of choice in these situations. Even if it was lame humor.

I paced around the side of the house, keeping close to the wall, but never touching it. I didn’t want to activate whatever voodoo might be at work. Once Lola was inside and opened up a door, window, whatever her dainty kitty paws could handle, we’d be able to bypass that Chokecherry magic.

I went around the back, toward the area of the map which Papa DeLacroix had pointed out to us. I’d had to verse Lola in it just before we left. Hopefully she’d found the entrance, he’d mentioned.

Lola?

No answer. That wasn’t good. Pure kitty panic had curled around my heart and proceeded to claw and squish. If something happened to my Lola, I’d lose my mind.

It’s a bit late for that. You’ve already lost your mind.
Sage swept down and landed next to me.

Do you see her, tarred and feathered?

Let’s keep this conversation ambiguous from now on. You never know who’s listening, or who has the ability to listen for that matter.
Sage cast a yellow-eyed look up at the darkened windows above our heads.

Right. Have you found her?

Sage flapped his wings and settled them.
Penelope’s around the corner, looking lost. I think she spotted Lola entering the rusty hole to the basement.

And you absorbed this information, how? By osmosis?

Sage clipped my head with his wing and I pressed my ear flat.

Can it, tuna lover. I know because our darling Pen is calling out for Lola, bent over said hole with both hands cupped to her mouth. I have no doubt that one of the Chokecherry brood will hear her if we don’t shut her up sometime soon.

I turned and padded around the corner. Oh yeah, there she was. Hunched by the mystical loophole.

“Lola? Come out of there this instant. Lola!” Penelope was even paler. Being this close to Chokecherry magic, stolen power had taken its toll on her. She scraped her hands through her curly, raven hair and succeeded in tangling it. “Lola,” she hissed. “Naughty kitty.”

Oh, if only she were even naughtier.

I bounded up to Penelope and bumped her against the crease of her knee.

She winced horribly, then looked down at me. “Tali? Oh thank goodness, it’s just you.” She paused and frowned. “Wait a second, what are you doing here? What are you and Lola up to?”

I had no way of telling her to shut up. At least she’d stopped calling for Lola.

A noise from inside turned my blood to ice. A low yowl of pain.

I went rigid as steel. That was Lola’s voice.

Lola! Lola, baby, are you in there? Are you okay?

Tali, it’s so dark. I can’t. I’m sorry. I couldn’t do it. So much pain. They got me.
Lola’s howls were distant, like they came from upstairs. That horrible window upstairs, the flickering light. What if they hurt my woman?

Lola, listen to me. It’s going to be okay, I’m coming in there.

She didn’t answer me. I couldn’t feel for her thoughts. It was as if she’d gone blank. Unconscious. Or dead.

Blind terror crawled up my throat, curled around my neck and streaked into my mind. My woman. The love of my latest life!

And what do you propose, Talisman? We’re too big to get inside.
Sage landed beside me again and Penelope winced again.

“Sage? Good god, what are you animals doing here? Did you follow me? You have to go back to the shelter. Come on, I’ll take you.” She reached for me, but I jumped out of range of her pale hand. She was too weak to fight me into her arms today, anyway. 

No way in hell would I leave my Lola behind.

What can we do? She’s in there and we’re out here. Let’s face it, we screwed the bird on this one.

I didn’t listen to him. I would get my Lola back. I would!

I’m going in.

Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll never fit through that hole. Too much cream thievery and late night kibble. And coffee grounds. Don’t think I don’t know about your habit, tweaker.

This was the perfect time to not let the haters get me down. I hurried toward the hole, ignoring Sage’s discouragement and Penelope’s insistence that I ‘go home right now or else.’

I squished my head through the rusty hole and recoiled.

It smelled horrible in there. Like death and rotten Sage balls.

Really? Was that necessary?

I tried again, blocking my nose from the inside and taking a deep breath before I got my head through the hole. I squished hard. Ignored the pain in my shoulders. Two pops and they were through. I wiggled my front and back legs desperately, wrenched myself from side-to-side.

Uh, Sage? You mind giving me a nudge? And careful not to puncture my butt with your pointy beak.

You know, when I woke up this morning I didn’t envision my day ending with me sniffing your posterior.

Dreams really do come true, don’t they?

Sage gave an indignant hoot then rammed into my rear end with what I could only hope was the broad side of his body.

You bet your stinky cat butt it’s the broad side of my body.

Excuse me, I shit roses in comparison to mice bones and fur.

Another ram and I was through with a fantastic creaking pop.

I choked and coughed, then glared around at the dusty basement. It was clear.

They couldn’t have caught Lola downstairs, or they’d have posted one of the wretched Chokecherry witches to guard the secret entrance. And that meant they were all probably prowling around upstairs.

Take her to the back door. I’m getting us in. Now.

Yeah, like that’s going to be easy to communicate.

You just pummeled my butt, I’d think getting Penelope to understand your hooting and flapping would be a cruise in the park in comparison to that.

Good point.

I didn’t hang around to chat anymore. I had a job to do. Fight the bad guy, rescue the girl, save the world.

Yeah, I got this.

Chapter 11

I was inside the bubble now, and my amulet felt heavy as hell around my neck. The house was quiet. And not that peaceful kinda quiet, but rather that murdery silence. Right before the knife stabs through the shower curtain accompanied by the blood-curdling scream. The calm before the masked psycho jumps out from behind a door with his chainsaw.

I padded down the dimly lit hall, old timey lanterns lining the walls. Hadn’t these witches heard of electricity? Then again, that much magical protection would’ve exploded the bulbs in all the lamps.

Poor Bianca Chokecherry, however did she manage without her hair straightener?

I dashed to the back door, hopped up onto the windowsill and peered out. Penelope stood outside, looking confused as Sage flapped around above her head.

Good one, owl pants.

Open the effing door before I peck your obsidian eyes from their sockets.

Getting Penelope around the back hadn’t been easy, apparently.

I examined the back door and tilted my head to one side, listening for any disturbance upstairs.

Chairs scraped around and footsteps crossed from one side to the other. A door slammed. No one came downstairs. We were in the clear, for now.

The lock was fairly simple. One of those click and turn things that could be opened from the inside without the need for a key. Trouble was, I had paws, not opposable thumbs.

So change into the mannequin thing. Your man form as you call it.

I stayed on the window sill. The amulet was heavy as lead and no amount of wishing would change me. It was the magic in the place. Apparently it worked on electricity and amulets. Our only real hope was that my mouth and paws were dexterous enough to take on the job.

I stood on the edge of the sill and leaned into it.

The metal lock was cool against my tongue, I licked it and tasted metal, then dug my teeth in and twisted my head.

A click resounded through the back room.

Done. Now, herd Penelope up the back stairs and make her try the door.

Cat, I’m going to give you a taste of the beak once I get inside.
Sage flapped and hooted, slowly urging our mistress toward the back entrance.

Realization dawned in Penelope’s features and she hurried to the door. The handle inched downward, the hinges creaked and my mistress stepped into the hall, eyes wide and breathing slowly.

You stay outside, Sage, keep a look out for any funny business.

Yeah, it’s what I do best.
Sage sounded relieved, even in my head. He wasn’t the talons to the wall bird, he was the logical one. But man, he was there when I needed him.

And stay away from Damien. He’s going to want your feathered ass on his mantelpiece after that shit bomb.

He can dream.

I hopped off the window sill and positioned myself in front of Penelope.

“This is crazy, Tali,” she whispered, crouching over and trying to make herself invisible. Yeah, like that’d happen. Bianca or Lucinda or whoever the hell it was had this all planned out to a tee. She wanted Penelope in her home. All the better to kill her.

Though, she probably hadn’t seen the whole break-in thing coming.

I padded down the hall and Penelope followed, glancing left and right as we went. A low murmur of voices rang out above our heads. I didn’t have to stop and make eye contact or herd Penelope in any direction.

Her shoulders were set. Tension in every one of her muscles.

This was it. Time to confront the bitchy witch and get Lola and Amelia back.

I couldn’t get over the thought that my girl had sacrificed herself for the cause. A horrible nightmare flashed across my brain of her fluffy white fur coated with blood. Damien lived to slaughter animals. Anything less powerful than he. No. Not going to happen on my watch. We hurried up the stairs, two at a time and onto the landing at the top.

The room at the end of the hall was just in view, thanks the door that was slightly ajar. Flickering light played across the boards, picking out the rough grain of wood, the knots in the planks, weathered by years of use. Centuries, even.

Penelope forged on ahead and I sprinted after her, my kitty heart pounding in my chest.

We burst through the door at the end of the hall and skidded to a halt.

“I’ve been waiting
so
long for you to arrive,” Bianca Chokecherry said, wearing a superior smirk.

Amelia was strapped to a stone tablet in the center of the room. A literal stone slab. Lola was unconscious at her feet, draped across the space. Amelia was wide-eyed and gagged. She struggled frantically against her bindings, never one to lose that plucky spirit.

“What have you done, Bianca?!” Penelope asked. She still didn’t realize how serious the Chokecherry witches were about bringing her down. She’d always thought they were teetering on the edge of darkness but hadn’t fully plunged into the abyss. But, they had. Penelope didn’t quite understand that they were sucking out her powers, her very life essence.

“Just what I needed to,” Bianca replied, standing in the center of a circle of salt. She checked her crimson nails and yawned. “Is this going to take long? Or can I get on with the ritual?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you’re clearly going to have all these dumb questions about how and why and what I’m doing. Go on, get them out,” Bianca replied.

I despised her with every bit of my soul. Poor Lola. Was she breathing? She’d better be breathing, this was all my fault. I should never have let her enter this god forsaken mansion in the first place.

“What –”

“I’m going to sacrifice your friend here. That’s what this is for,” Bianca said, before Penelope could hit her stride. She drew a horribly sharp silver athame from her belt sheath and held it aloft. “Gorgeous, isn’t it? This is going to be its first blood, and for a good cause.”

“Never! I’ll never let you hurt her!” Penelope yelled, a battle cry of sorts, then sprang into action.

Bianca threw back her head and laughed. She swished the blade through the air, closed her eyes and began muttering under her breath.

Penelope slowed, she gripped her forehead and went pale, then stumbled to the right, to the left.

There had to be something I could do! Anything!

Amelia struggled, Bianca chanted and my Pen hunched and gripped at her middle. In pain. “Stop,” she whimpered.

Whatever this spell was, it hurt Penelope more than anything else had.

My eyes darted around, desperate for anything which could save all three of them. My women. My gaze landed on Amelia, who wriggled and strained. I slunk to the stone slab and around to the other side, out of Bianca’s sight.

Then I began to gnaw on Amelia’s bindings.