Hold Your Witches Read online

  My pulse pounded in my ears. It was the only sound I could hear. My baby sister, who at one time was more interested in boys than being a responsible human being, could control insects.

  I bit my lower lip as I met Roman’s gaze. He nodded. “Let’s see about Reid.”

  FOUR

  I sat in Roman’s SUV. I was numb. Literally, numb. I couldn’t feel my toes, and my fingers felt like swollen sausages.

  “You need to breathe,” he said.

  I gulped down a frantic breath. “I don’t understand.”

  He squeezed my thigh. “I don’t either, but we will find out what’s going on.”

  “How? Are we just going to go ask her, ‘Hey, Reid, why’d you steal Polly Parrot?’”

  “Ah,” Roman said, sliding a hand down his jaw. “No. That’s the last thing we’re going to do. You’re going to watch her.”

  Butterflies fluttered a world of panic in my stomach. “Me?”

  He nodded. “Yes, you. I’m going to investigate the swamp guy.”

  I braced my hands against the leather seat. “You’re leaving me, and I’m supposed to spy on my sister?”

  “That’s how this might work sometimes. We separate so I can investigate. I’ve told you this.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “I did,” he said gently, “but you didn’t listen.”

  “I always listen to you,” I said smartly.

  I could feel his stare boring a hole in my temple. I exhaled. “Okay. So maybe I didn’t listen during that meeting.”

  “Darlin’, you’ve got to listen if we’re going to work together. It could mean the difference between life and death.”

  “I listen,” I said meekly.

  “You didn’t that time. But there will be times when that’s the most important thing I need.”

  We reached Perfect Fit, and Roman slid into an empty spot in the rear lot. The tires crunched over gravel. I was convinced the surface had originally been paved the year Silver Springs was incorporated, nearly a hundred years ago. At least the huge chunks of asphalt littering the ground made it seem that way.

  Roman pushed the gear into park and unbuckled his seat belt. I turned to look at him. The bare skin of my arms suctioned from the leather.

  Roman brushed a strand of dark hair from my eyes. A shiver raced down my spine all the way to my toes. It was amazing how his touch still lit me, how it made me feel like a nob of charcoal burned in my core.

  “Darlin, you’ve got to listen. Not because I’m a man and you’re my wife, and not because I’m the boss of this family.”

  “Yeah, because that’s me,” I joked.

  The glint in his eyes wasn’t amusement. “I’m not kidding.”

  I leaned back, feeling my skin adhere to the leather. “Sorry.”

  “You’ve helped solve cases before, but this is the first time you’re doing it professionally. There’s a lot of danger out there.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I know, Dad. Thanks for the tip.”

  He cupped my chin in his fingers, forcing me to look at him. “I’m not trying to control you. I want you safe and sound. I married you, after all. Even if you are the orneriest thing. You have a heck of a time taking direction and think you’re the only one who knows anything.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His lips coiled into a smile. “I love you, darlin’. Just listen to me. That’s all I ask. And even if you don’t always do what I want, at least promise me that you’ll hear me out.”

  I took his hand and held it in my lap. His warm skin felt good, comforting. “I promise. Now let’s come up with a game plan for the next couple of days.”

  He gave me a smile that made my stomach quiver. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Roman left that night for Mississippi to meet with Swamp John or whatever his name was. I would invite my sisters over for dinner and see if I could get any information out of Reid.

  Let’s face it; I didn’t for a second believe that she had stolen Polly Parrot. It was more likely that Swamp Guy had stolen him because he was lonely out there living in the Mississippi muck. Now what he wanted to do with a wooden parrot, don’t ask me. There were too many options, and most of them were gross.

  Way gross.

  I readied a light meal of grilled chicken salad and rolls that Sera had brought over earlier. I also made sweet tea. I set my small dining table with a lemon-colored cloth, colorful flower-patterned napkins that the Pioneer Woman and Southern Living would both have been proud of, and settled back for a nice, quiet family dinner.

  Who am I kidding? Nothing in my family was ever quiet.

  It all started when Reid showed up with her hair tied into a mass on her head.

  “What is that?” I said, pointing to the nest.

  She placed her hands over her eyes. “I was trying this new spell that would make my hair soft as silk. Feel it.”

  I cringed. “I don’t want to touch it.”

  “Don’t be a scaredy-cat, Dylan,” Sera said, sailing in. “Even I touched it.”

  “Okay.” I poked one side with my finger. “What in the Lord’s name did you do? It feels like a Brillo pad had a baby with a rock.”

  She burst into tears. “I know. It’s horrible.”

  Sera shot me a dark look. “It’s not that bad.”

  I gave her an are-you-kidding face. “Yes, it is. Come on. Let’s get your head under the shower and see if we can fix it.” I guided her toward the bathroom. “Where the heck is Milly when you need her?”

  I got Reid’s head under the faucet and scrubbed. “Ew. It’s still thick.” I paused. “Sera. Get the mayonnaise.”

  She poked the air. “On it.”

  A minute later she reappeared with a squeeze tube. “Perfect.”

  “You’re going to put mayonnaise on my head?” Reid whined.

  “Yes. And if you’re not still, I’m going to add an egg and make salad, so keep your trap shut while I work.”

  I squeezed out a dollop of mayonnaise that would’ve made Paula Deen proud and started scrubbing.

  Sera leaned against the wall. “Did you figure out what happened to Polly Parrot?”

  I hesitated. How much should I say? Roman and I hadn’t discussed that. Dang it. I should’ve asked him how to handle this situation.

  “Not yet,” I said slowly, “but he’s following up on a lead out of Mississippi.”

  Sera made a face. “Mississippi? Why the heck would anyone leave their home to steal a wooden parrot?”

  I dug my fingers into Reid’s scalp. “According to Milly, Polly holds the secrets of the universe.”

  “I think she means her secrets.” Reid’s voice trickled up from under her head of hair.

  My skin prickled, but I did my best to play things cool. “What do you mean?”

  Reid pulled out from my grasp and lifted her wet head that was one ingredient short of salad dressing. “I mean Polly listens and watches everything she does. It’s not someone else’s secrets the bird’s keeping. It’s Milly’s.”

  I pointed for her to flip her head over. “How do you know all this?”

  “Because it makes sense,” came her muffled reply.

  “Yes, but how do you know it?”

  “I just do.”

  I exhaled. “Are you sure there isn’t something you’re forgetting to tell us?”

  Reid lifted her head again. “Like what?”

  My gaze darted away. I didn’t know if I could keep a straight face and say it. “Like, I don’t know. Anything.”

  She cocked her head back. “I’m telling you everything I know, which isn’t much. It just stands to reason that Milly might have enemies. I mean, have y’all met Milly?”

  Sera laughed. “Yeah, she’s probably got a whole slew of ’em just waiting to take her out.”

  “That’s our grandmother you’re talking about,” I said. I clapped Reid on the shoulder. “Okay. You’re all done. It feels better. Let’s rinse and ea
t.”

  Reid sat at the dinner table with her head in a towel turban. “Thanks for the salad, Dylan.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “It’s good to get away from Grandma every once in a while,” Sera said.

  I forked a piece of chicken. “What’re she and Nan doing tonight?”

  “I think they’re playing Chutes and Ladders,” Sera said.

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  She waved dismissively. “I’m kidding. They’re trying to plan my wedding without me and are driving me crazy.”

  “Oh? What does Brock say about that?”

  Sera shrugged. “He says it’s my wedding and if I want them to leave it alone, then tell them.”

  I sat back, laughing. “Isn’t he naive? Does he know who he’s talking about?”

  She ran a finger over the rim of the glass. The diamond on her left hand sparkled under the lights. “No kidding. They want it to be huge. They want every magical person in existence to be there. They see it as a way to bring all the people together. Those of Monkeyland, Fairyland, witches—everyone.”

  Sera’s fiancé, Brock Odom, was Monkey King and lived in Monkey Town. He was human, not monkey, and adopted, though his people were Winged Monkey People, basically, and lived in a forest not far from Castle Witch. Grandma was Brock’s godmother. Since she was related to both sides of the happy couple, she wanted the entire world at their wedding.

  Which was apparently causing my sister a truckload of grief.

  “Put your foot down. Don’t worry about hurting their feelings,” I said. “It’s your wedding. Not theirs.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Reid said, munching a bite of romaine. “You only get married once. Maybe. I mean, you might. Brock seems like a solid guy.”

  I kicked her.

  “Ouch,” she said, rubbing her leg. “What was that for?”

  “For saying the wrong thing.”

  Sera’s blue eyes laser beamed on me. “She’s right. Not all marriages last, though we hope they do.”

  I pushed my food around. “Let’s talk about something else. Like when are you coming for your dress fitting? It’s all ready.”

  Sera grinned. “A couple of days. That sound good?”

  I smiled brightly. “Sounds great. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

  Thirty minutes later Reid had left and Sera was helping me clean up.

  “The things that girl does to her hair,” Sera said, leaning her back on the counter and swirling a glass of white wine.

  We didn’t pull the wine out until after Reid had gone because she wasn’t of age and I didn’t want to be a bad influence. Let’s face it; I had enough issues—being a derelict didn’t need to be added to the list.

  I dried a plate. “I know. I can’t believe she worked a spell to make her hair softer and it did the opposite. Clearly her magic isn’t meant to work on hair.”

  “Yeah,” Sera said, her eyes going glassy. “But it also can’t be just for knitting horrible clothes.”

  I didn’t want to tell her what Reggie had revealed, but if anyone could help me, it would be Sera. Plus, she wouldn’t peep a word to Reid. I soaped a bowl and ran a cloth over it.

  “About Reid’s powers…”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve been wanting a giant yarn onesie to wear around the house.”

  My gaze pierced her.

  “Okay, I guess not,” she said.

  “What I was going to say is that you know about Polly.”

  She took another sip. “Right.”

  “Well, it looks like someone may have used ants to break into Milly’s house.”

  Sera stared at me. “What?”

  “They used ants,” I said slowly. “To break in and take Polly. Don’t ask me the logistics, but apparently it can be done. They were small enough that the arsenal of magic she has set up to detect a break-in didn’t work.”

  “But what about breaking out?” Sera said. “Polly’s bigger than an ant.”

  “All the ants would’ve jammed the frequency of the spell. At least, that’s what Milly thinks. So the alarm never would’ve gone off when they exited, even though they would’ve had to raise a window to get Polly out.”

  Sera whistled. “That’s some seriously messed-up person to use insects.”

  “Exactly.”

  Her lips pinched together as she frowned. “But I don’t understand how this relates to what you were saying about Reid.”

  I wiped my hands on a clean-enough kitchen towel. “We asked Reggie what witches have the power to command insects. And though Grandma was one of them”—I raised a hand to stop any argument—“she insisted the whole thing isn’t some story that she and Milly concocted to give us business.”

  I released a deep shot of air. “Reggie said Reid can control insects, but I don’t see it. Why would she steal Polly Parrot, and why wouldn’t she tell us she could make a ladybug fly? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Sera fingered her glossy brown bob. “It doesn’t make much sense, I agree. But Reid’s been really secretive lately.”

  My nerve endings fired on all cylinders. “What do you mean?”

  Sera shrugged. “I didn’t think much about it until now. Until you mentioned this.”

  I wanted to shake her. I had to restrain myself from pinning my sister by the shoulders and rocking her like I was dislodging apples from a tree.

  I spoke slowly, trying to keep my breathing calm in an attempt to stop myself from jumping to hysterics. “What thing should you have mentioned?”

  She twisted her fingers. “Well, Reid’s been going out every night.”

  “Every night?”

  Sera nodded.

  “Where? Who’s she meeting?”

  “Says she’s meeting her new boyfriend.”

  I dropped the towel. “Her new boyfriend. What do you know about him?”

  Sera grimaced. “Not much. She hasn’t told us anything.” My sister stared at me for a moment and sighed. “I guess this means you and I are going to be busy tonight.”

  I gritted my teeth. Looked like tonight wasn’t going to be a quiet one at home. “Get your stalking clothes on because we’re going hunting.”

  FIVE

  I spent an entire night staring at my old house, which is luckily located next door, and waiting for Reid to leave.

  Never happened.

  By midnight Sera bailed on me, and by three a.m. my head was so heavy I kept waking up every time it dipped toward slumberland.

  Needless to say that’s when I finally gave up. I rose from the wicker chair I’d set up on my front porch. My legs and back ached. My muscles felt like wood as I limped into the house and crawled into my bed without bothering to wash my face or brush my teeth.

  It’s not like I wouldn’t be up in a few hours to do those things anyway.

  When my alarm blared at six, I threw it across the floor. I heard plastic break and scatter. I groaned. Great. I’d have to buy another one.

  I managed to drag myself out of bed around eight, made a huge pot of coffee and proceeded to drink the entire thing.

  The caffeine semiworked. My body ached. I had a horrible taste in my mouth from simply staying up so late, but the coffee made me alert enough that by the time I got into my car, I knew I’d have the reflexes to slam the brakes if I had to.

  I pushed through my overbearing fatigue long enough to answer my phone when it rang.

  “Darlin’, you sound just like sunshine,” Roman said.

  A wan smile spread over my face. “That’s the nicest thing I think you’ve ever said to me.”

  “I thought that was ‘I do,’” he said.

  I chuckled. “Yeah, that might’ve been nice, too. So have you found our Swamp John or whatever his name is?”

  “I’ve got a lead I’m following up on today and will hopefully get some face time with him. I’ll keep you posted. Any luck there?”

  I sighed into my fifth cup of Joe. “Sera told me that Reid has a mysteri
ous new boyfriend.”

  “Follow that lead. Find out whatever you can.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.”

  “I love you so much I’m going to ignore your tendency to be smart.”

  I smiled. “I’m sorry. I love you. Be careful. You see any danger, you get out. Don’t risk it.”

  “I won’t,” he said. “I’ve been doing this a long time.”

  “You were doing it before you were married. That’s different.”

  He sighed. “You’re right. I report to you now. I know that.”

  I clicked my tongue. “As long as the chain of command is clear.”

  He laughed. “It’s clear. Love you.”

  “Love you.”

  Click.

  He’d hung up. Roman could be all business sometimes and a total jokester the next. It was one of the many things I loved about him.

  I finished my coffee, ate a bowl of cereal that tasted like paper with a dash of honey, showered and dressed.

  I opened the store and was working on a new wrap shirt design when the door above the bell tinkled.

  I dragged my gaze from the page to find a tall woman sauntering in. Fringe bangs trailed down to long, dark hair. She wore large black glasses and an ebony silk dress.

  Her nose looked to be stuck in the heavens. I didn’t recognize her, but I figured she was here for some clothing so I gave her a bright smile.

  “Welcome to Perfect Fit. Can I help you find anything?”

  She crossed one anorexic arm over the other and managed to show off her Louis Vuitton handbag in the process.

  “Are you Dylan Apel?”

  “Yes,” I said, coming out from behind the counter. “How can I help you?”

  The woman removed her glasses to reveal dark circles under watery blue eyes. “You’re the Dylan Apel with the witch detective agency?”

  Every skin cell prickled to attention. “Yes. That’s me. What can I do for you?”

  She tossed a sheet of slick brown hair over her shoulder. “It’s my husband. Something very strange is going on with him. I need your help.”

  So I made another pot of coffee and invited the woman to the back office, which was thankfully dry as a sun-bleached bone. No scent of mildew either, thank goodness.