Quit Your Witchin' (Bless Your Witch Book 4) Page 4

  “Sure. Reggie may be able to give you more information. He knows how to get back here when he needs to.”

  “He does?” Reid said.

  Milly smirked. “He’s magical, toots. One day you may know what that is. But until then, you’ll remain powerless.”

  Reid’s expression crumpled. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  We said our good-byes and I took Reggie to work. It was ten o’clock when I walked in. Right on time to open.

  “So this is where the queen performs her normal duties,” he said.

  I plopped him down on the couch. “Listen, Reggie, you’re going to have to keep a tight lip on things. I can’t have you talking around customers. It’ll be bad for business. Not to mention I’m not interested in having the witch council appear and flay me or anything.”

  “Okay, Just Dylan. I will only speak when spoken to.”

  “Good.”

  “Or when we’re alone.”

  “Not good.”

  The bell above the door tinkled. Roman strode in with Boo following.

  “Hey,” Roman said. “Did I catch you at a good time?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” I said.

  “Ah, it’s the young Master Bane,” Reggie cooed. “And who’s this with him?”

  Roman glanced from Reggie to me. “I see you’ve got the Registry.”

  “I kinda wished I didn’t.”

  “He doesn’t get out much,” Roman said.

  “So I see. He’s been talking nonstop since we left Milly’s.”

  Richard Bane stood in the entrance as if waiting for me to tell him what to do. “Boo, please sit wherever you’d like.”

  “Well I’d be happy to. Thank you.”

  “What’s going on?” I said to Roman.

  “I actually came because I need the Registry.”

  “How may I be of assistance? Just Dylan doesn’t require my special abilities at the moment.”

  Roman shot me a questioning glance. I shook my head. “Don’t ask.”

  “I need you to look at this photograph and tell me if you recognize the witch in it.”

  Reggie happily opened. “Show me the image and I will do what I can.”

  Roman pulled out the picture of the dead man we’d discovered in the gym. “Do you know him?”

  The pages flittered right and left. “Let me see. Let me see. He doesn’t look familiar, but that doesn’t mean his appearance hasn’t changed. He has a nice smile. I believe I’ve seen it before.” The pages flapped in a whirlwind.

  They stopped.

  “Edgar Norwood,” Reggie announced.

  A similar picture of the dead man appeared. Boo perked up. He came over and peered at the page.

  “Edgar Norwood,” he whispered. “That’s him. That’s the man.”

  “Tell us what you know,” Roman said.

  Reggie cleared its throat. “Edgar Norwood.” He cleared his throat again. “Edgar Norwood,” he started.

  “What is it?” I said. “What’s wrong?”

  The book paused. “There’s nothing wrong. My page on Edgar Norwood is blank.”

  “So that means…” Roman said.

  Reggie tilted toward us. “Everything about Edgar Norwood has been erased.”

  FIVE

  “Who would have erased it?” I said.

  “It isn’t would. It’s could,” Roman said, resting his chin on his fist. “There’s only one group I know powerful enough to pull off something like that.”

  “Who?” I said.

  “The council,” Boo replied.

  We both stared at his father. There were gaping canyons in Boo’s memory, so whenever he erupted with a gem of an idea, it shocked me. I think it did the same to Roman.

  Boo slid his fingers over his mouth. “The council’s the only ones who could do it. Erase someone from the Registry.”

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  Roman scratched the back of his head. “Sounds about right. I might need to pay a visit to them. Or at least to one in particular.”

  “Who?”

  “Gladiolas,” he said.

  I clasped my hands together. “Oh, I want to come. Can you take me?”

  Roman frowned. “Dylan, you’re a civilian. This is police business.”

  I toed the floor. “I know. But remember when I was queen you said I could have access to information that other folks couldn’t?”

  “That was when you were queen.”

  “But this involves witchy things. I might be queen again someday.”

  He fisted his hips. “Who’s going to watch the shop?”

  “I’ve been training Reid.”

  “I thought she had college classes?”

  My baby sister had been taking some community college classes in the basics while she figured out what she wanted to do with her life.

  “She has lots of free time with her schedule.”

  Roman quirked a brow. “And you trust her?”

  I shrugged. “More than I trust a stranger.”

  He closed Reggie and hoisted it under his arm. “Come on.”

  The three of us left. I snagged Reid from Sera’s bakery and promised her an extra fifty bucks to watch the shop alone.

  Dewy Dewberry was outside her store when we rolled down the street.

  She waved.

  ***

  We parked outside my house. “What are we doing here?” I said.

  Roman opened his door. “Gladiolas lives three hundred miles away. It’s too far to drive.”

  “So how are we going to get there?”

  “Your grandmother’s going to transport us.”

  I curled my fingers into his shirt. “Are you serious? Every time she zips us to another place, she always jokes about leaving heads and feet behind. Thing is, I don’t think she’s joking.”

  Roman gently pulled my claws off him. “Come on. It’ll be quick.”

  I tried to protest, but it didn’t do any good. Next thing I knew the three of us were standing in front of my grandmother. Her hands were raised.

  “No one move. I hate for your feet or head to get left here.”

  I shot Roman a scalding glance. “See?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a transporting joke. We’ll be fine.”

  A blip and a bump later and the three of us stood in front of an old stone house. Gargoyles sat posted on rails on either side of the wide steps. Spanish tile butted up to the gray stone facing. It was a strange match, but it worked.

  “Where are we?” I said.

  “Gladiolas likes to keep her whereabouts a secret.”

  “So you’re not allowed to say.”

  He glanced down at me and smiled. “Darlin’, I’d tell you if I could. No doubt about it.”

  We reached the door and rang the bell. A second later Councilwoman Gladiolas answered.

  She wore a beige pantsuit with a black silk shirt underneath. Her brown hair was short except for the bush of bang in the front. Gray streaked the brown. Her eyes widened when she saw us.

  “Roman, Dylan. Come in.” She took Boo’s hands. “Richard, I’m glad to see you’re well.”

  Boo nodded. “Getting there.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “I know what a delicate situation it is that you’re in.”

  He smiled. “Thank you.”

  Okay, so outside of a few people, no one knew that Richard Bane had resurfaced and was living in Silver Springs. Since Boo had disappeared the night of his wife and daughters’ killings, the rumor was that he was guilty of the crimes—something Roman had never believed. Since Boo seemed to be suffering from a twenty-year stint of amnesia, Gladiolas and a few other people had decided it was best to keep his reappearance a secret. For now, all was good. But at some point Boo’s luck would run out. He would have to answer questions.

  Gladiolas ushered us inside her parlor. She offered us coffee, which we all accepted. Once we were comfortable, Gladiolas glanced at Roman.

  “You have Reggie with you.�
��

  Roman nodded. “I wanted to show you something interesting we found. Reggie. Tell the councilwoman about Edgar Norwood.”

  Book recited the information in that James Earl Jones voice of his—which was that the page was blank.

  “And you found this witch dead in Silver Springs,” Gladiolas said.

  “As a doornail,” Roman replied. “My question is, who would erase his information?”

  Gladiolas saucered her cup. “I don’t know. But luckily we’ve got his name and we know he was a witch.”

  “But it doesn’t get us any closer to why he was murdered.” I glanced over at Roman. “He was murdered, wasn’t he?”

  Oops. I’d forgotten to ask.

  “Strangled,” Roman said.

  “So you have a strangled witch,” Gladiolas said.

  “Who my father recognizes,” Roman added.

  Gladiolas’s gaze zeroed in on Boo. “You knew him?”

  Boo glanced at the floor. “I remember the face. Can’t tell you where I knew him from, but there was something familiar about him.”

  “Richard,” Gladiolas said, “how would you feel if I tried to retrieve your memory of Norwood?”

  Boo took off his hat and dusted the brim. “I don’t know.”

  “If you only focus on the image of Norwood, it will limit the memories that surface. I won’t be able to see anything about Catherine. To be honest, I don’t want to. Given your fragile state, if I yanked out the wrong memory, one you’re not ready to face, it could be cataclysmic for you—your psyche could fracture.”

  Boo glanced at the floor and sighed. “If you think it’ll help.”

  Gladiolas moved to a lightly stained side table and opened one of the drawers. She pulled out a magnifying glass. “I will investigate each individual memory, choosing to retrieve only those that are relevant. A single memory may, in fact, trigger more.”

  She sat and twirled the glass between two fingers. “If you want to know your relationship with Edgar, I can find that. It may help your son solve this crime.”

  Boo nodded. “All right. You can do it.”

  Gladiolas nodded. “Roman, I want you and Dylan to step back a little bit. Sometimes the process can be jarring. In case Richard lashes out or becomes violent, I want you both out of his reach.”

  Violent? That didn’t sound good.

  I backed off, being sure to place Roman in front so that he could defend me if it came down to it. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to anything even remotely near that.

  Gladiolas placed the glass over Boo’s head and proceeded to pick through his hair. It reminded me of primate grooming time at the zoo. I was waiting for her to find a flea and eat it.

  I giggled.

  Roman stiffened. He threw a glance back at me.

  I pressed my lips into a grim line.

  Gladiolas looked for several minutes. Finally she stopped right about his left ear. “Ah. Here it is.”

  She wiggled her finger into the spot. Boo’s mouth dropped open. He squirmed.

  “This might be slightly uncomfortable.” Gladiolas pressed into his head. “Do you remember what happened?”

  Boo rolled back his shoulders. “The doorbell rang at Roman’s cabin. I answered it. A man stood there. He had dark hair, kind eyes. Said he’d let me down but was going to make it up to me. But he also warned me to be careful. They knew about me and were coming. If they found me, I wouldn’t survive.”

  Boo sanded a calloused hand over his brow. “I don’t remember anything after that.”

  I glanced at Gladiolas. “So who was the man?”

  She stepped away from Boo and held out the glass. “See for yourself.”

  The images of Boo’s story played out on the glass. Without the sound, of course. But it was exactly as he said. Edgar arrived. Told him something, and then effectively knocked Boo out.

  I nibbled the edge of my finger. “So Edgar showed up to warn Boo that someone was coming for him. Why? Why wait until now?”

  Roman’s face darkened. “Because someone knows he’s out of hiding. Someone wants him dead.”

  ***

  We left Gladiolas, and I dragged Roman back to my dress shop so I could put out a few new pieces. He watched while I worked.

  “So why would someone want your father dead?” I said.

  Roman stretched out on the couch. “He doesn’t remember what happened the night my mother and sisters were murdered. I don’t think that’s a mistake. I think someone made him forget.”

  I hooked a dress onto a rack. “But why not just kill him? Why leave him alive?”

  He yanked a pillow out from under him, secured it atop his chest and drummed his fingers on it. “I don’t know. That confuses me too. Unless—”

  “Unless what?”

  His eyes sparkled with an idea. “Unless they needed him alive.”

  I sat down. “You think someone’s been protecting him this whole time?”

  Roman stopped thumping the pillow. “I don’t know but it makes sense. I mean, why not just kill him? Why leave him alive?”

  “But when your mother was murdered, she wasn’t an ordinary witch. She was Queen. That would’ve made her murder high treason or something, right?”

  His lip coiled. “Pretty sure you’re right on that one.” He rose, stretched. His T-shirt lifted over his belly, revealing not only stone-chiseled abs but also the dragon tattoo that snaked up the left side of his body. I wanted to reach out and touch it.

  Roman caught me staring. “Why don’t you?”

  I blinked. “Don’t I what?”

  “Touch it. It won’t bite. At least not now.”

  I giggled. “I don’t know; it might.” I traced my fingers over the line of the tail.

  Roman shuddered. “Darlin’, you better watch what you’re doing with that hand of yours.”

  My face warmed. “You dared me to do it.”

  “I want to dare you to do a lot more.”

  He pulled me against him and sealed his lips to mine. Heat surged down my spine, and my nerve endings fired electricity. The tingle spread from my chest down to parts unknown.

  The kiss deepened. I threaded my fingers through his hair. Roman slid his hands down my waist. His fingers curled under my shirt and sluiced over my stomach. I quivered.

  He broke the kiss. Roman’s breath came hot, heavy. “Darlin’, what you do to me.”

  “He, he,” I said. “Not trying on purpose.”

  “You don’t have to try on accident. Doesn’t matter. It happens.”

  He pulled back and smiled.

  An overwhelming wave of emotion rushed over me. I felt it—the gush of joy, of elation, of…love?

  Yes, I do believe it was love.

  I gulped. “Roman, I know I’ve been pretty tight-lipped about my feelings.”

  “No. I like hearing ‘right back at you.’”

  I poked his chest. “No, you don’t. But you’re too nice to say anything.”

  “Nice doesn’t have anything to do with it.” Truth flickered in his green eyes.

  “Well, okay. But you’ve been more than truthful with your feelings. It’s time I told you mine.”

  He smirked. “Is Dylan Apel about to admit something that makes her vulnerable?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m trying to open up here.”

  “I’ll shut up.”

  “Thank you. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I—”

  The door burst open. Reid stood there, purse in hand. “Dylan! We have to go!”

  I flashed her a why-the-heck-are-you-interrupting-me-this-better-be-good look. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Valentine’s Dance. It starts in a couple of hours. Or have you forgotten?”

  “No,” I seethed. “I haven’t forgotten.”

  I had. I don’t know; the whole dead-body thing had thrown me for a loop the past couple of days.

  “Grandma wants us there right now.”

  I pulled away from Roman and shot him an emba
rrassed smile. “Why?”

  “Because she invited Titus the unicorn king as the special guest.”

  “What! He can’t be here! He’s a unicorn. We could get in serious trouble for this.”

  Titus, King of the Unicorns, held a special place in my heart. He was near and dear because he helped me believe in my magic. However, as much as I cared about him, if the witch council discovered my family was showing off a magical creature to nonmagics, I was pretty sure we’d be toast.

  Reid tapped her foot. “I tried to tell her it’s a crazy idea. So you coming?”

  I shouldered my purse and turned to Roman. “Look, I’m sorry. Can I catch up with you later?”

  He nodded. “Save me one dance?”

  I smiled. “I’ll save you the best one.”

  We headed for the door. My sisters and I might have immunity from the council when it came to working magic in front of regular people, but I was pretty sure showing off a unicorn was not on that list.

  “Let’s go,” I said. “Before she gets us all boiled alive.”

  SIX

  We arrived at the junior high school. Since a dead body had been discovered in the high school gym, the town dance had been moved to the next biggest venue that wasn’t a church. We didn’t have it decorated to the nines, but it would do with the little bit of crepe paper and hearts that hung from the ceiling.

  We dashed inside, carving a path through the maze of the school. We reached the gym in less than a minute. I shoved open the metal doors and gauged the room. Titus stood off to one side with my grandmother. His white mane and tail shimmered under the festive lights, making him look perfectly regal. He wore an opal secured by a wide silver band across his chest, and someone had tucked pink flowers over his ear.

  In a far corner—far, far away from the unicorn—the band was performing a sound check. A crystal ball was spinning from the ceiling. The place looked good, if I had to say so myself.

  Hope no more dead bodies showed up.

  I approached slowly, unsure of what sort of reception I was going to receive. “Hi, Grandma. Hello, Titus.”

  Grandma positioned the unicorn so that all our backs were to the band. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice his mouth moving. Well, if they did, I could wipe their memories, as I’d learned the night when Rick was at the house for dinner.