Cookies, Curses, and Kisses Page 14

  “Edward, stay on my heels, son. You hear me?”

  “Yes, Dad,” he said softly. “Is she gonna be okay?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully and shrugged her higher into my arms. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or not, but she felt like she was getting lighter and lighter. I had no idea what was happening to her, but I knew I had to save her. I had to. There was a desperation rushing through my bones, screaming at me to hurry.

  I ran for the portal, Edward close on my heels. It was definitely closing, starting to seal up at a scary pace. I wasn’t sure we would make it in time.

  We were just steps away when I heard a loud, feline cry.

  Both cats were racing toward the portal with a manic frenzy that seemed born of fear. I picked up my pace.

  “C’mon, Edward. Hurry, son. Hurry!” I barked, before stepping to the side.

  The cats sailed through with an impressive tandem jump, swallowed up by the darkness beyond. I had no idea where the exit led. All I knew was Zinnia had told us to go, and go we would.

  With a shove of my foot against my son’s rear, I pushed him through. Clinging tight to Zinnia, who now felt as though she weighed no more than a bird’s feather, I closed my eyes and, with a prayer, followed my son down the rabbit hole just as it sealed shut.

  Chapter 11

  Zane Huntington the III

  WE WERE KICKED VIOLENTLY out of the tunnel and back into the musty old library Zinnia and I had been in earlier.

  “Edward,” I cried.

  At my son’s cough, my heart settled into a calm rhythm.

  “Here, Daddy.”

  “Och, laddie, that was an impressive tumble. Are you goin’ to live, then?”

  I groaned, wondering which of the aunts was speaking to us. Brows drawn, I looked up into the face of a very worried-looking Primrose. Her blue hair was a fluffy mountain of cotton candy around her pinched features.

  “An where’s me niece, eh?” she asked at my continued silence.

  Startled that forgot I’d been holding Zinnia when I’d jumped through, but now didn’t feel her body anywhere, I sat straight up, nearly knocking heads with Violet, who’d been leaning over to stare directly at my face with her spectacled owl eyes.

  “Bloody hell,” she mumbled and scampered back. “Near knocked me head off, ye did.”

  “Zinnia?” I blinked, looking all around the floor scattered with papers and books, as though a tornado had torn through the place. It was a mess.

  I jumped to my knees. Had she been ripped out of my arms? Was she trapped in Illusion still? The taste of fear was sharp and bitter on the back of my tongue. I jumped to my feet. An overwhelming surge of protectiveness and shame engulfed me.

  I’d been mean to her, unnecessarily rude, and she’d done nothing but try to help me all along. I needed to find her, needed to make sure she was okay.

  “Open the portal. Please God, open the portal. She’s back there. Zinnia’s back—” Just as I was begging the aunts to open the portal, I felt something stir beneath my shirt.

  I grunted, startled by the sensation of tiny feet walking over me, reached a hand beneath the hem of my shirt, and yanked.

  For probably the hundredth time tonight, I received yet another shock. A newt. I held a newt.

  And not just any newt either. A red-bellied one missing a portion of its tail.

  The creature blinked up at me, a dumb, newty smile fixed firmly on its beautiful face. Heart hammering, feeling dizzy yet again, I shoved a hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone. My finger shook as I brought up the photo app. The very last photo showed the markings, the coloration, the exact same stump.

  I didn’t recall my knees giving out, but suddenly, I was sitting on the edge of the couch and staring at the gorgeous specimen in my hand with a mixture of awe and even a slight trace of fear.

  “Butter my butt and call me a biscuit,” I muttered.

  “Do what now?” one of the aunties said.

  I blinked and looked up. I was pretty sure I was losing the only marbles I still had left.

  “Either I’m going insane, or—”

  “Milady!” Primrose said with a reverent cry. “Well, there ye are, you wee cockerel. I’d wondered where you’d got off to that I could’na find ye.”

  She rushed over to me, holding out her hands, and that same feeling I’d experienced at the river the other day—was it the other day, or had it been just yesterday afternoon? I couldn’t even remember anymore. Everything was a blur—flashed over me, the sense that I wanted to hang on and hold tight, that I didn’t want to let it go no matter what. I’d thought then it was because the specimen had been so gorgeous. But now I wasn’t sure about anything.

  One second, I’d been clutching tight to Zinnia, and the next, she was gone, and in her place was a newt. My newt.

  “Oh my God,” I hissed just as Primrose snatched my newt away and hugged her close to her ample chest.

  She cooed low to it and scratched behind its ear, and the little newt kicked up its back leg the way a puppy might, enjoying a good scratching. I shook my head.

  “This is not possible.”

  Someone sighed. “Well, damn,” an acerbic female voice whispered. “Makes bloody sense, though.”

  I frowned and looked over at Hyacinth. Her features were pinched and drawn as seemed to always be the case where she was concerned. My son was seated at a small writing desk just beside her, eating from a plateful of cookies, kicking his feet back and forth and looking for all the world as if the weight of the past two years had been suddenly lifted from his shoulders.

  He was smiling and humming underneath his breath as he crammed the cookie down his gullet. A tall glass of chilled milk rested beside him.

  I felt as if I were outside of myself, watching all of this from someplace else. Not from this reality, but a different one. Taking it all in, unable to digest it all at once, but memorizing every bit of it.

  “I always did think Milady’s habit of showing up only during the daytime a thing of rarity.” Primrose nodded, speaking as though to herself, but knowing we all heard. “Always found Milady to be a special wee thing compared to the others. And I ken why, now.”

  “But how did she wind up so cursed?” Violet asked softly to no one in general.

  Hyacinth snorted. “I ken when, the wee scamperal. You remember when Eerie came back from the dead, aye? T’was then our niece was cursed. I would stake my life on it.” She rolled her eyes, chest heaving mightily, seeming annoyed by life in general.

  My head swiveled from one aunt to the other as they carried on a private conversation as though neither Edward nor I were present. None of them seemed to care at all that we could hear.

  Prim’s lips thinned. “We could break it.”

  “She’ll kill us if we tried,” Violet said mournfully. “Ye ken what would happen to Eerie if we did.”

  “She would die,” they all three said at once. I shivered at their matter-of-fact tone.

  At least Edward was completely oblivious. My son was passed out, small mouth gaping open, head resting on his crossed forearms.

  Needing to feel useful in some way, and still feeling slightly dazed, I stood to my feet and walked over to him, sliding him out of the chair and into my arms.

  “Bluidy fine mess this is,” Prim said on a long heaving sigh. “One of us will need to get over to the Boot and pick up Zinnia’s breakfast orders, I dinna think the lass’ll be doing much of anything tonight.”

  The other two sisters nodded, and feeling completely forgotten by them, I didn’t know what to do other than grunt.

  The aunts finally looked at me. Their eyes were wide and they appeared startled by my presence.

  “Weel, and so ye know now, son.” Primrose said, gently cupping Zinnia’s sleeping form and dragging a long, silver-painted nail down her tiny abdomen.

  I shuddered. How was this possible? How was any of this possible?

  “What are you going to do?” This
was asked by Violet, who broke off a chunk of cookie and put it into her mouth.

  She was looking right at me.

  I held her gaze for only half a second before studying my son. “Sleep. That’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to sleep, and when I wake up, we’ll... figure it out.”

  “Harumph.” I didn’t need to look up to know it was Hyacinth’s grunt. The old biddy seemed determined to be perpetually grumpy.

  There was a mood of expectancy, like they wanted an answer I didn’t have. I’d learned too much too fast tonight. My brain felt overloaded, unable to grasp any one thought long enough to decide how I felt about all of this.

  Let alone what I planned to do.

  This road trip was supposed to be a fresh start for Edward and me, a way for us to leave the pain and hurt behind and try to rebuild. But there was no outrunning the ghosts, as had been made clear to me tonight.

  I opened my mouth, not sure what I even meant to say. What could I say, really? My wife’s ghost may or may not have visited us tonight. I’d discovered that vampires and witches and the boogeymen were real. And more than that, the woman who’d finally made me come alive and imagine that there was hope for my future was a newt during the day.

  What was there to say right now?

  A soft meow pricked all our ears, making us all glance over to where both cats were perched on the edge of the coffee table.

  The green-eyed demon was licking his socked paw. I was pretty sure I might hate that one for dragging my son into a world that had nearly taken him from me. The blue-eyed one—Lapis, I think I’d heard Zinnia call her—was swishing her tail back and forth, looking right at me.

  I shivered under the weight of that intelligent stare.

  “And what have we here?” Primrose asked softly as she approached the green-eyed spawn and knelt. “Where’d ye find that wee charm, Malachite?”

  “I’ll be,” Violet said on a sigh.

  Hyacinth was also beside the cat and was untying a pink silk collar from around the cat’s neck. A tiny silver charm in the shape of a crude cross dangled from it.

  None of them were paying us any mind anymore.

  “It can’t be. Can it?” Violet said with a slight shake.

  “I don’t know, sister dear.” Primrose shivered as she hugged Zinnia tighter.

  There was a thread of fear in her words, but I had no more business here. It was time to go.

  Lapis nodded at me. A soft meow rumbled off her, and I frowned. I could no longer deny the strange feelings this town elicited in me or pass them off as coincidence or fanciful imaginings on my part.

  Turning on my heel, I headed out of the room and finally, out of their house. Thankfully, I was able to get my bearings and realized the Boot wasn’t that far from Zinnia’s house.

  Twenty minutes later, I passed through the front door, and though it was rude, I didn’t acknowledge Glenda’s smile of greeting. I was too numb, too exhausted

  I needed to sleep, and to stop thinking. For just a little while.

  When I entered my room, I laid my son down on the bed and, with a world-weary heave of breath, lay down beside him. Tucking his tiny body snug into mine, I closed my eyes and hoped to God that when I woke up I would know what to do. Right now, I felt as lost as I had in that paper world.

  Chapter 12

  Zinnia Rose

  MY HEAD WAS POUNDING. I moaned as I slowly came back to myself. The events of last night came to me in a blur, and my heart was heavy with sorrow at all that had happened, not just for myself and my future, but for Zane and his son too. I imagined he would be long gone, with only dust left in his wake.

  I sat up slowly, not sure where I was until a heavy, scratchy quilt was laid over my shoulder. I yelped, scrabbling back on my naked heels, knowing my secret was out. Someone had found me.

  Aunty Prim stared down at me with a soft, bittersweet smile. “Milady,” she said so gently that it brought tears to my eyes. She brushed her knuckles across my cheek.

  Clutching at her wrist, heart thundering in my chest, I didn’t know what to say. Panic roiled in my mind. Aunty Prim knew. Therefore, my other aunts must know too. They kept no secrets from one another. They would free me of my curse, and thereby end the life of my dearest, and now only, friend.

  “Auntie,” I squeezed out.

  “Hush, hush, love.” She tsked and shook her head. “I ken verra weel what you’re thinking. No, it hasn’t happened, and it’s not likely to, either.”

  My brows drew down into a sharp point. “But... but I broke—”

  “Aye, ye did. A sacred trust we witches hold. But none of us can say we blame ye either. Had the boot been on the other foot, I’m sure we would have done the same.”

  I shook my head. “But you’ve never broken the sacred laws.”

  Her pencil thin brows rose high on her forehead. “Haven’t we?”

  She didn’t elaborate, but I caught her meaning well enough. I clutched at my throat, finding it difficult to swallow. “I... I don’t know what to say, Auntie.”

  She shrugged. “What is there to say, dearie? Dinna fash yer pretty little head about it anymore. In fact, me sisters and I have been busy bees this afternoon. While we canna break the curse that binds ye to Eerie without harming her, we can at the verra least make it somewhat more tolerable to ye.”

  “I don’t under—”

  Aunty Prim reached into the magically deep pockets of her gown and pulled out a thin rope of freshwater pearls. They were delicate and glimmered a smoky shade of black. I gasped, knowing immediately they were charmed. The energy emanating off them was strong and powerful, making my toes curl.

  “What is that, Aunty?”

  She grinned as she settled the pearls over my head. There was no latch on the necklace, and the moment it slid against my throat, I knew it was on permanently. There would never be any taking it off. The magick of my aunts’ power settled over me like a warm hug. The pearls were on fast, but not uncomfortably so.

  “This,” she said in a long drawl, “will make it so that you ken exactly who and what ye are during the shift. And also, makes it far less painful than it’s likely been otherwise.”

  I inhaled deeply, touched to my core by their great gift. For so long, I’d kept the curse close to my vest, not trusting my aunts to understand or help me, thinking they would force me to turn Eerie back into dirt.

  I blinked the tears from my lashes and, with a tight throat, whispered, “Thank you.”

  To be given this gift was more than I’d ever imagined.

  She patted my shoulder. “T’was nothing, dearie. But there is something else.”

  My aunt, normally so put together and in command of herself, seemed unaccountably nervous, which chilled me to my core.

  “Aunty, what is it?”

  She shook her head. “Truth is, lassie, we aren’t sure yet. But we ken why Malachite tricked the laddie and done what he did.”

  “Why?” I asked in a breathless rush.

  With a deep inhale she said, “He brought back someone. Someone who says she wants to speak with ye.”

  “Me?” I asked, shocked. “I know of no one trapped in Illusion.”

  Holding out her hand to help me stand, Aunty said nothing until I’d taken it and stood alongside of her. I hugged the blanket tight around my naked body.

  “Och, weel, there is something about the lassie that makes me neck hairs stand, make no bones about it. But there is something of the familiar in her, too. I canna lay my finger on it, but ye can be assured that I’ll no stop digging until I do. Now would ye care to change or—”

  “No, I’ll come. I’ll speak to her first.”

  “Good. Let’s be off.”

  TWO HOURS LATER, I was back in my diner, serving coffee, feeling more peaceful and relaxed than I had in ages. Already, I could feel the charm working, and I knew that never again would the shift be so taxing or excruciating.

  I’d learned a lot tonight, but in some ways, I’d also l
earned nothing at all.

  The girl, who looked no older than nineteen, with coppery-red hair and vivid violet eyes, had looked scared, young, and as lost as I felt.

  She’d called herself Sage Cherry Azalea and had claimed to have been trapped inside the hammered silver crucifix Malachite had found in Illusion and dragged through the portal.

  Malachite, rotten cat that he was, had abandoned me entirely for the girl. As much as that cat hated my guts, knowing I’d lost him still cut me to the quick. Familiars were supposed to remain loyal, so it was a surprise that Malachite had done away with lifetime’s worth of tradition.

  I sighed between customers. Lapis, ever my faithful companion, wound her way around my ankles, purring and rubbing her head on me, letting me know she was still here and wouldn’t go anywhere.

  “Love you too, sweetheart,” I said with a soft smile as I knelt behind the counter to scratch her head.

  Plucking out a bit of fermented shrimp I kept tucked in glass jars behind every nook and cranny of the diner, I fed it to her. I watched her eat, feeling an overwhelming sense of love for her, but also a terrible and aching sense of loss. Not just because Malachite had entirely abandoned me. I couldn’t honestly say I was surprised by his flightiness. I felt empty for an entirely different reason.

  Zane and Edward hadn’t been in our town long, but seeing them had quickly turned into the highlight of my night, hearing his deep voice, and the way he would sometimes look at me when his guard was down. Though I’d told myself not to, I’d grown attached to his son as well. I’d wanted to get to know him better. Now I would never get that chance.

  For my part, I couldn’t wait for the curse to return to Blue Moon. Then maybe thinking about them would get a little easier.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  Zane’s voice cut through my melancholy and made me yelp with fright. I shot to my feet, which was a very bad idea since I was still kneeling beneath the counter. I banged my noggin but good when I stood.