Cloaks and Daggers Page 9

  “Is that the reason neither of you pursued it?” I asked. “The network?”

  “It was one of the reasons,” Adam said.

  Bethany leaned forward eagerly. “What was the other one?”

  “I imagine it’s that they’re both alphas,” Calix said. “That’s difficult to manage in a relationship.” His gaze flicked to me. “Your mother was an alpha too. An alpha’s alpha.”

  That information didn’t surprise me based on what I knew about her.

  “It wasn’t really about our personalities,” Adam said. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a minotaur.”

  “And?” I prompted.

  “Elves and minotaurs are pretty incompatible, at least from a physical standpoint.”

  “You mean you’d crush her delicate frame beneath your massive bull body?” Calix said. “I have tips for that sort of thing. I’ve taken many forms over the centuries during lovemaking…”

  My hands flew to cover my ears. “Calix! I don’t want to hear about any of this.”

  “My darling pamplemousse. Did you think your mother was my one and only?” Calix seemed genuinely touched.

  “No, that would be silly,” I said. “But I still don’t want to think about my father in…an amorous situation. It’s gross.”

  “Gross.” Calix nodded, appearing to take the feedback into consideration. “I suppose a learning curve is to be expected.”

  Adam’s brow furrowed. “I can’t quite tell what’s going on here, but the dynamics are intriguing. Any chance you want to look for a house together? I think an estranged father-daughter episode would be ratings gold.”

  “I’m perfectly content with the house and the family I have,” I said.

  “I’m so pleased to hear it,” Calix said. “My most ardent wish is for you to be happy.”

  Bethany pressed her hand against her chest. “Aw, this is making me teary-eyed.”

  “There’s real chemistry here,” Adam said, nodding his approval. “We should film you and see if it carries over onto the screen.”

  “Sometimes it doesn’t,” Bethany added. “You’d be surprised. That’s why we film two couples.”

  “I’ve been memorialized enough in my lifetime,” Calix said. “I don’t know that I need to add screen time to my legacy. It will only serve to make me appear smaller than I am in that tiny box.”

  “I’m not comfortable with attention anyway,” I said.

  “Did you know she has a statue?” Calix asked. “Right in the town square. My own baby girl.” He gazed at me in awe.

  “I’ll have to check it out,” Adam said.

  “I saw it,” Bethany said. “I didn’t realize it was you, but now that you mention it, I see the resemblance.”

  “Cool,” Adam said. “I wouldn’t mind a statue of me in my hometown. This body would look good in marble.”

  Bethany fiddled with her glass. “I’ll be honest. I was surprised to see something that graphic smack in the center of town, but I know some places embrace sexuality more than others. California towns are like that too.”

  “It’s not what you think,” I said.

  “Of course it’s what she thinks,” Calix interjected. “Don’t be so modest, pickle. You laid claim to the town and they’ve rewarded you with that fine memorial.”

  “More like she just got laid,” Bethany said under her breath.

  “It’s not sexual,” I objected heatedly. “It’s memorializing the moment when Daniel and I broke the curse on Spellbound.”

  Bethany blinked in confusion. “You broke the curse using a… sex toy?”

  Adam’s eyes rounded. “I’m starting to think that a Spellbound documentary isn’t a bad idea.”

  My cheeks flamed. “It’s not a sex toy. It’s a unicorn horn!”

  “Sex is a natural part of life,” Calix said. He reached across the table and patted my hand. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Can we get back to Andrea?” I asked, although at this point, I’d completely lost my focus.

  “What else would you like to know?” Adam asked. “The sooner the case gets solved, the sooner I can get back to my life, which I’d very much like to do.”

  “Can you think of any reason someone would want to hurt her?” I asked.

  “I’ll tell you the same thing I told the sheriff,” Adam said. “There was underlying conflict with her brother.”

  “Jim?” I asked. “It’s my understanding that they had a good relationship. It was Paige that she often argued with.”

  “Andrea complained about Jim more than she ever complained about Paige,” Adam said. “She was willing to have it out with Paige, but Jim was her twin. She found it harder to express her feelings with him.”

  That made sense. “Any idea where Jim’s been hanging out while you’re stuck here?”

  “Where do you think?” Bethany asked. “The glassblowing place. He’s in his element.”

  “There’s a glassblowing place in Spellbound?” I had one baby and fell into a vat of complete ignorance.

  “It’s not far from the library,” Bethany said. “I went by to see him. Make sure he was okay.”

  “That was kind of you,” I said. It wasn’t like Bethany and Jim really knew each other.

  “I told her to do it,” Adam said. “The show is the reason he’s here. I have a sense of duty.”

  “And because he’s Andrea’s brother,” I said quietly. Despite his keen interest in ratings and money, I had a feeling there was more to Adam and his feelings for Andrea than he was willing to admit.

  “Yes,” Adam said, his deep voice almost inaudible. “Mostly because he’s Andrea’s brother.”

  Chapter Ten

  As anxious as I was to speak to Jim, I knew I had to carve out time to see Agnes at the Spellbound Care Home, especially in light of the news about her daughter. In the parking lot, I conjured a protective spell to keep the baby insulated from germs and then left my wand under the seat to comply with the rules. I couldn’t even bring my usual alcoholic contraband today, not with Diana bundled in my arms. The spell ended up covering the baby in some kind of magical white bubble wrap. I was worried that the front desk would give me a hard time, but the fairy cooed over Diana and handed me a pass without any issues.

  Every resident we passed in the corridor wanted to stop and ogle Diana. I had a feeling she was going to become a popular visitor in the coming years.

  “What a beautiful mother and child.” Silas, the genie and Agnes’s ex-boyfriend, greeted me outside her door.

  “How are you?” I asked. “I haven’t seen you lately.”

  “You’ve been busy, clearly,” he said. “You look wonderful. Motherhood suits you.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “She’s honestly a dream.” Which was a true statement given the limited amount of sleep I’d been getting. I constantly felt like I was walking around in a dreamlike fog.

  Silas glanced at the closed door. “She’s not speaking to me.”

  “Can you blame her? You hurt her, Silas.”

  The genie bowed his head. “I didn’t think it was possible to hurt her. She always seemed impenetrable.” He paused. “Well, not entirely…”

  I held up a hand. “I get the idea, Silas. Thanks.”

  “What do you think I should do?” he asked. “I’d like to be friends again. I miss her company.”

  “But you don’t want more than that?”

  Silas chewed his lip. “I can’t. I’m in a relationship.”

  “Then do her a favor and leave her be,” I said. “I think it will only hurt her to have you around.” It wasn’t like she could completely avoid him. The care home wasn’t that big.

  Silas placed his palm flat on the door. “Will you tell her I’m thinking about her?”

  “No,” I said. “It isn’t fair to her. If and when you disengage from the other woman, then you can feel free to make nice with Agnes. In the meantime, keep your distance.”

  Silas nodded mournfully. “I know
you’re right, but it’s hard.”

  “Be that as it may, you made your choice.” I inhaled deeply. “Listen, Silas. You know I like you, but Agnes is my priority.”

  The genie engulfed me in an unexpected hug. “It’s good to know someone’s looking out for her.”

  “Who’s out there?” Agnes’s voice jolted me.

  “It’s Emma,” I called through the door. “Diana and I are coming in. Are you decent?”

  “Never,” she yelled.

  Silas’s lips melted into a sad smile. “I really do miss her.” He drifted away, his tornado butt twisting slowly as he continued down the corridor. I waited until the coast was clear to open the door.

  “If it isn’t our favorite witch over the age of old,” I said. I shifted Diana to one arm and nudged open the door.

  “You’d better watch your tongue or I know a spell that might set it on fire,” Agnes warned.

  “I know a meal that can do that,” I said. “No magic required.” Daniel’s fish curry was guaranteed to scorch my tongue and leave it numb for days afterward. I couldn’t bring myself not to eat it though. He was so proud of the recipe.

  “Why does that kid look like a puckered marshmallow?” Agnes asked. She sat at the small table by the window, working on a cross-stitch.

  “Because care homes are filled with germs,” I said. “I have to protect her.”

  “It’s not like she’s going to pick up a sexually transmitted disease. That’s what we’re known for in the nursing home.” She continued stabbing a piece of round cloth with a needle.

  I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “You think I should remove the spell?”

  “I think you should err against suffocation,” Agnes said. “The child presumably needs to breathe. Don’t be one of those overprotective mothers or that kid will turn out to be a mouth breather.”

  Fortunately, I didn’t need Tiffany to break the spell. A simple tap on the top of her head and a quick rhyme did the trick. “Candle, book, wand, bell/Help me out and break this spell.” The magical bubble wrap dissipated, leaving only Diana in my arms. She squirmed and squeaked happily.

  “Much better,” Agnes said.

  “I thought it was best to be cautious.”

  “Why bother? Didn’t I hear she has some kind of healing powers? She can magic away any unhealthy germs.”

  “I’m not one hundred percent sure,” I said. “It could have been all down to the flower. I mean, I think she played a part in it, but it’s not like I want to test the theory by hurting her.”

  Before I could stop her, Agnes whipped her needle toward Diana’s arm and drew blood.

  “Are you insane?” I shrieked. “What are you doing to my child?”

  “Experimenting.”

  As I moved to wipe away the drops of blood, I watched in fascination as the tiny wound faded away, along with the blood.

  Agnes gave a triumphant fist pump. “Told you so.”

  “Fine, but I don’t like your methods.”

  Agnes blew a raspberry. “Who cares? I get results.” She peered at the baby. “She has her father’s eyes. I hope she doesn’t inherit his brains. She has your hair though. It’s dark like my Jacinda’s.”

  At the mention of Lady Weatherby, I shifted uneasily. I wasn’t ready to broach that topic yet. Soon.

  “What are you working on?” I’d never seen Agnes with needlework before. She generally preferred tarot cards and alcohol.

  “I was making something for that offspring of yours,” Agnes said. “Thanks for ruining the surprise.”

  I placed a hand over Diana’s eyes. “She hasn’t seen it yet. What is it?”

  Agnes held up the cross-stitch. “I’m nearly done. I’d use magic to finish faster, but you know the rules.” She rolled her eyes to accentuate her dissatisfaction with the care home’s ‘no magic’ policy.

  I strained to see the words. “Oh, my.” Amongst the images of yellow stars and a pale moon was the saying—I don’t spew profanity, I enunciate it like a f—ing lady.

  Agnes beamed proudly. “Isn’t it perfect for her?”

  I hesitated. “Well, it’s hard to say because she still hasn’t mastered the power of speech.”

  Agnes returned her attention to the pattern. “No worries. She’ll appreciate it when she’s older.”

  I removed my hand from Diana’s face. “Do you mind if I put her on the bed?”

  “Is that your subtle way of asking me if the sheets are clean?”

  “No. I just want to make sure you don’t mind. Sometimes you can be territorial.”

  “Well, it is my bed.” She hesitated. “Can I hold her?”

  I stared down at the baby. “You want to hold Diana?”

  “No, I want to hold your feeble brain in my bare hands and see if its weight is as low as I think it is.”

  “No need to be grouchy,” I said, and handed over the baby. I expected Diana to fuss once she was in the elderly witch’s arms, but she seemed perfectly content.

  Agnes gazed at the baby. “Now my stomach is rumbling.” I reached for the baby, but Agnes turned away and cackled. “I’m not going to eat her, you nitwit. Maybe we should take a walk to the cafeteria.”

  “That sounds nice,” I said.

  “Since you don’t have any alcohol for me, I don’t see any point in staying here when there’s tapioca pudding in the cafeteria.”

  As we walked, the reason Agnes wanted to take Diana to the cafeteria became abundantly clear. With an infant in her arms, she was suddenly the most interesting resident in Spellbound Care Home. I should have known Agnes was angling for the spotlight.

  “Oh, is this your grandbaby?” A wrinkled faun stopped to coo over Diana.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” Agnes said. I noticed she didn’t bother to correct the faun.

  “She has your mischievous smile, Agnes,” the faun said, and carried on walking.

  We entered the cafeteria and a satisfied smile settled on her lips. “Oh, good,” she said. “Silas is here.”

  He hovered in the corner, deep in conversation with a troll and a goblin.

  “Do you want to talk to him?” I asked.

  “Hell no,” she said, “but I want him to see how popular I am.” She offered an encouraging smile to an approaching centaur. “She’s a real spitfire, isn’t she?”

  The centaur gave Agnes a clap on the shoulder. “Lucky you. I wish I had family that came to visit.” He winked at me. “Good on you for still coming around.”

  “Sit here,” Agnes commanded. She made sure to position herself on a bench in full view of Silas.

  On the one hand, I admired her commitment to the cause. On the other hand, I knew that Silas had no intention of breaking off his relationship to be with Agnes. Not right now anyway. I didn’t want to see her get hurt any more than she already had been.

  “Do you want me to get the pudding?” I asked. “You can sit here with Diana.”

  “Sounds good,” Agnes said, without looking at me. She was too busy trying to catch Silas’s attention.

  “Agnes,” I said gently. “This isn’t you.”

  Her gaze darted to me. “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t pander,” I said. “You’re a strong, resilient witch. Choose someone who chooses you.”

  Her mouth puckered. “He did choose me, until he stopped.”

  I placed a hand on her arm. “That last part is kind of crucial.”

  She tapped her bony finger on Diana’s nose. “This is a big place and we get new residents any time someone kicks it. I’ll meet someone else.”

  “I know you will,” I said. “You’re a special witch and any guy would be lucky to have you.”

  “Tell me about this baby of yours,” Agnes said. “She looks far too normal. Are you sure there wasn’t a mix-up?”

  “Pretty impossible given the circumstances of her birth.” I went into labor in a cave by myself and almost died.

  “Well, there’s plenty of time,” Agnes said. “She could gr
ow horns tomorrow for all we know.”

  “Gee, thanks for that.” Like I needed one more thing to worry about when I fell asleep at night.

  “What’s wrong with horns?” Agnes asked. “I thought you were all about acceptance and light.” She mimicked my voice as she said the words.

  “I would love her just the same,” I said. “I don’t think anyone in our family history has horns though, so it would be odd.”

  “Jacinda wasn’t born with horns, but she wore those twisted antlers like they erupted from her skull.”

  Spell’s bells. Two mentions of Lady Weatherby in one visit. I had to tell her now before I lost my nerve. The hearing was the real reason I was here, after all.

  “Agnes, I have some news. Would you like to hear it before tapioca pudding or after?”

  Agnes bounced Diana gently on her knee and my daughter drooled with delight. “This sounds ominous. Is it about your father?”

  “You heard about that?”

  She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Word travels.”

  But not about her daughter. Interesting. Everyone was probably afraid to raise the topic and upset her.

  “I don’t want to talk about Calix right now,” I said. “It’s about your daughter.”

  Her face registered surprise. “What about her?”

  “Apparently she hired a fancy lawyer from another town who petitioned for her release. The hearing is coming up and it sounds like the judge is going to grant it.”

  “I see.” To her credit, she kept a bright smile for Diana. It was the sunniest disposition I’d ever witnessed from Agnes. “Does she know the song about cauldrons and broomsticks?”

  “No,” I said. “I mostly sing songs from the human world. Eighties pop music like Duran Duran.”

  “Why would you say it twice? I’m not deaf.”

  “That’s the name of the band,” I said. “She likes Taylor Swift too. I sing Shake It Off to her in the mornings.”

  Agnes curled her lip. “I don’t know what that is, but it sounds ridiculous. She should learn coven songs.”

  I tapped my fingernails on the table. “Agnes, don’t you want to talk about your daughter?”

  “I never did before. Why start now?” The elderly witch refused to look at me.