Witch Upon a Star (A Midnight Magic Mystery) (16 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Harlow

Tags: #Mysery, #Werewolf, #Soft-boiled, #North Carolina, #Paranormal, #vampire, #Witch

BOOK: Witch Upon a Star (A Midnight Magic Mystery)
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As always, my time in the park pepped me right up. I had a plan. Resolve. Even a glimmer of hope. I was smart, I was determined, I was a hard worker and most important, I had no choice. Rock bottom had been reached. Onward and upward was the only option left. If only I’d known that rock bottom wasn’t the lowest one could go. There was always hell.

_____

“Dinner was amazing, Mrs. Harmon. Thank you. I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal.”

I’d never had meatloaf before, but it was delicious. I’d have to get the recipe. A lot of her recipes. Asher was the chef, I could barely boil water. That would have to change. If I could whip up a potion, in theory I could whip up a meal. At least that night I proved I was proficient in dishwashing. Tom, who remained glued to my hip since I returned from the magic shop after re-mixing the potions I broke, helped me clear and even stayed to dry. I’m fairly sure Mrs. Harmon did a genuine double take when he offered. Who knew a vampire concubine could be such a good influence? I even promised to help with his Spanish homework. We were deep into conjugating verbs at the kitchen table when the phone rang. Tom picked it up. “Harmon residence,” Tom said. “Who may I ask is calling?” He listened, scrunching up his face as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. “It’s for you. Special Agent West?”

I actually smiled as I stood to get the phone, which deepened Tom’s scowl. “Half an hour response time, Agent West. The F.R.E.A.K.S. will have to work on that.”

“My teammate just gave me the message, sorry. We’re stretched real thin. Right now I’m neck deep in fiber and autopsy reports.”

“Sounds fun. I promise I won’t keep you long.”

“No, keep me long. Please. I’ve hit a damn wall, and I am about to hit one literally.”

“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Actually,” Nathan said, perking up, “you know what? Maybe you can. Have you ever heard of a vamp who literally ripped someone’s throat out to the point the person was almost decapitated? I mean, even her vertebrae were missing. Because it’s been bugging the hell out of me. The working theory was the first victim, Abigail Conlon, was picked up by one or two vamps who knew she was the pack leader’s granddaughter and killed her for retribution.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The fact she was dumped on the property Conlon outbid Lord Peter on. But it’s odd. There are only three reasons for that much damage to the girl. One, it was a frenzied attack, and the vamp went crazy with bloodlust. Two, to send a message about their cruelty, or three to cover up the bite, which doesn’t make sense because there was
another
bite on her inner thigh. But according to the autopsy, there were no smears of blood around the thigh wound. It was like they just sunk their fangs in but didn’t drink. Nothing adds up, and neither faction will listen to us, and … my roommate snores, and we’re understaffed, and I have indigestion, and … sorry. I’m rambling. And frustrated.”

“It’s okay. And for what it’s worth, I’ve never actually seen any vampire kill before, but from conversations I’ve overheard about feeding, that kind of brutality isn’t consistent with vampires, even when they’re starved to the point of death. They’re not werewolves. They don’t have claws or teeth. They’d have to use a knife for that level of damage. And if she was a werewolf, she’d begin to heal immediately from a vampire bite, right? Unless it was done after her death. And if that’s the case, why bite her at all?”

“And why do the exact same thing to the second victim?” Nathan asked.

“Why does anyone do anything? Love, hate, money, insecurity, revenge, jealousy, or just old-fashioned craziness. Pick your poison, Agent West. Frankly, I think the whole situation’s ridiculous. I mean, who really
wants
to start a war, especially over a piece of real estate? What does either side get out of it? You’re right, nothing about it makes sense, not to me at least. Sorry I can’t be more help.”

“No, you—you’ve helped. I think. Thank you.”

“Hey, we spent two hours talking about my horrid life last night, I think I owe you one. Or twelve. That’s actually one of the reasons
I phoned. I just, I wanted to thank you,” I said, playing with the spiral phone cord, “for last night. Your delivery left something to be desired, but … you gave me the kick in the bum I needed. Desperately, it turned out.”

“What happened?”

“Just, everything you said about him, about me, proved dead on. You pried open my eyes and what I saw …” I shook my head. “I walked out. I left him. For good. ”

“Wow. Good for you, Annie. I knew you had it in you.”

“That made one of us.”

“No, now don’t you dare minimize this. What you did took a
lot of guts. More than most people got. Hell, more than I do. I don’t think I could have. Really. And you know how I am about telling
the truth.” I smiled, actually smiled at these words.

“Oh, yes.”

“So there you go. And are you okay? I mean, do you have money—”

“I’m staying with friends for now, but after that … I’ll figure it out as I go along. Valhalla awaits, right?”

“Damn straight. And is there anything I can do to help?”

“No,” I said, still playing with the cord. “Really, you’ve done more than enough. You went above and beyond, practically to the damn sun, for me. I just, I wanted to thank you. It’s the least you deserve. The very, very, very least.”

“Well, thank
you
kindly, Miss Asher.”

“Olmstead. It’s really Anna Olmstead, I guess.”

“Olmstead. Suits you better.”

“Wouldn’t go that far, but it’s all I have now. I was never officially Anna Asher anyway. Only in my mind, I guess.”

He chuckled. “Well, whatever your name is, I do appreciate the call. And the help. You were in many of my thoughts today. And seriously, if you need anything, anything at all, even if it’s just to talk, you have my number. Use it, day or night.”

“Actually, I plan to be in town the day after tomorrow. Maybe I can take
you
out to dinner. Save you from punching walls and autopsy photos.”

“I’d really like that. We’re camped out in the meeting room on the third floor of the Sheraton on 7th.”

“I will pop by after I tie up some loose ends.”

“Can’t wait. Bye, Annie. Take care of yourself.”

“I’ll do my damndest. Bye.”

“Dang,” Tom said as I hung up the phone. I’d completely forgotten he was still at the table.

“Don’t—don’t tell your parents you heard all that, okay?”

“Why? I’m not a baby. I know people get murdered and stuff. Especially people who live around vampires.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” I said, sitting next to him again. “But they aren’t all bad.”

“Including your boyfriend? Mama said something real bad must have happened to you last night. She told me not to ask, but it did, didn’t it?”

I grimaced. “Let’s just say, you can love someone with all you have, and be so blinded by that love that you fail to see who they really are. What they want. And sometimes the things we can’t change end up changing us, and not for the better. You can’t change people, not at their core. You either accept them or learn to live without them. I chose the latter. I chose
me.
And that’s all you’re getting out of me tonight. Now, let’s finish your homework. You conjugated third person plural incorrectly. It’s
tienes
.”

He corrected it on the paper, then glanced at me. “So, the agent on the phone. Are you going on a date or—”

“Homework!”

_____

With my marathon sleep session and general nocturnal habits, I wasn’t the least bit tired when everyone else went to bed. Luckily, I had a life to plan. My list of necessities included an apartment or room to rent, of which High Priestess McGregor already provided a lead on. A hundred dollars a month for a fully furnished room was doable, and it’d give me time to save for furniture when I moved out on my own. I’d also need to buy a car, track down my real birth certificate and Social Security card, find a job, get a driver’s license, the list took up an entire page. But without a doubt, I could do it. I could survive without him. The gaping hole from Asher’s extraction was still bleeding, but I could feel it slowly cauterizing. The scar would be there forever though.

Around midnight, as I walked out of the bathroom back to my sanctuary, I heard sniffling in Bethany’s room. Everyone else was asleep, they had work and school in the morning, so I went to check on her. The first thing I noticed, besides her tiny cries, was the reek of urine. “Accident,” she whimpered.

“It’s okay,” I whispered back. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” I took her tiny hand, collected clothes from her dresser and brought her back to the bathroom. Without protest, she let me clean and re-dress her. “Did you have a bad dream or something, sweetie?”

“A monster came out of my closet and tried to eat me.”

“That’s awful. I hate monsters.” Eyes bulging from her head, she nodded affirmatively. “You know, I get bad dreams a lot too.
Lots
of monsters in my dreams. And I’ve learned that the best way
to banish a monster is just to look him square in the eyes, and shout,
‘Go away! This is my dream! You’re not welcome here anymore! Go away!’ And you turn your back on him, to show him you’re not afraid. That you’re a brave, strong little girl, and he can’t hurt you. And he may scream and howl and maybe even cry, but he has no power over you. Never again.” I wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled. “But you know what the best thing about dreams is? You get to wake up and find out,” I gasped and smiled again, “it’s not real! It never was. And nothing in it can hurt you. It’s over and done with. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Bethany nodded and grinned. “Yeah.”

I kissed her forehead. “So no more tears. No more monsters. Not for either of us. Mrs. Flossie—”

The cheerful chime of the doorbell not only cut short my words, but also sliced that bleeding hole inside me so wide it swallowed me back into its darkness. His darkness I’d fought so hard to pull myself out of last night. Because he’d found me. I knew it would happen eventually, I just hoped I’d be on sturdier ground when it did, and I certainly didn’t want the Harmons in any way involved. How had he tracked me down so fast? No one tied to vampires knew exactly where I was, save for Sally McGregor, and there was no way she’d volunteer the information. The second chime almost knocked the wind from my lungs. He was really there. He had really come for me. My devil was literally knocking on the front door.

“Doorbell,” Bethany said.

The creek of the floorboards in the hallway smacked me out of my stupor. When I opened the bathroom door Mr. Harmon, baseball bat in hand, was almost to the stairs with Mrs. Harmon a step behind, muttering, “I cannot believe this. No good deed …”

“Don’t,” I warned, stepping out.

The bell began ringing incessantly along with a few knocks. Tom came out of his room dressed in his pajamas as well. “What’s going on?”

“All of you, go back to Bethany’s room and lock the door. Anna, especially, stay out of sight. I’ll get rid of him,” Mr. Harmon assured me.

“He can’t come in unless invited,” I instructed. “And don’t look in his eyes.”

“Good to know,” said Mr. Harmon as he and his wife descended the staircase. “Stay with Bethany. Both of you.”

I picked up the confused toddler and hurried to her bedroom with Tom right behind me. There was no way I was going to allow the Harmons to face Asher without backup, so I passed Bethany into her brother’s arms. “What—”

“Stay here with your sister,” I whispered as I rushed out again. “Lock the door.”

“But—”

I quietly shut the door and crept across the hall to the corner just before the landing looking onto the foyer began. Out of sight yet ready to help if necessary. I silently prayed to the universe it wouldn’t be necessary.

“… Andrews gave me this address,” Asher said. I used to love his baritone—that night it sent chills through me.

“And he just
gave
you our address?” Mrs. Harmon asked skeptically.

“It took a wee bit of prodding,” said Christine. Of course he brought her. My fear level skyrocketed when she spoke. The situation went from serious to atomic.

“We are most concerned about her,” Asher said. “She has been unstable of late. Abusing drugs, harming herself, harming others, stealing cars.”

Tom quietly tiptoed from Bethany’s room to my side.

“Pathologically lying,” Christine added.

“Where’s Bethany?” I mouthed.

“Hiding in her closet,” Tom whispered into my ear. “What’s happening?”

“We were going to check her into a treatment center last night,” Christine continued, “but then she ran away when she dis
covered the plan. I don’t know what she has told you, but it should be taken with a grain of salt.”

What she lacked in a soul, she made up for it in the acting department. Were they believing this? Hell, I would have. Just enough truth behind the lies. Tom shook his head.

“If she is here,” Oliver said—they brought him too? “It would be in your best interests to let us speak with her. We do not wish her harm. Truly. We only wish to speak to her. It would be the best thing for all parties concerned. Please.”

I was about to step into sight, but Tom grabbed my arm to stop me at the same time. Mr. Harmon said, “Look, I don’t know what to tell y’all. She was here last night in a right state, but when she woke up, I threw her butt into a taxi. Haven’t seen her since and don’t want to. We have no idea where she went. Really. Sorry. Best of luck finding her, though. Y’all have a nice night.”

I let out the breath I held as I heard the door creak closed. Thank the—

“She left without her coat?” Asher asked.

Merde
.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Harmon asked.

“That is a thousand-dollar coat I had tailor made for her in Moscow. She would not leave it behind, especially in the midst of winter.”

“She must have forgotten it,” said Mrs. Harmon. “Or maybe she left it on purpose. Bad memories and all.”

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