Bewitching Bedlam

  “Because he’s a vampire?”

  “Right. So here’s what I managed to dig up. Essie has been chafing at the bit ever since she moved to town. As I said, the previous vampire queen of this region was named Lena. Apparently, she was dusted a few years back when her watch stopped on her and she didn’t make it home in time. I know that vampires are supposed to have some sort of internal chronometer, but apparently Lena’s was on the fritz that day. She didn’t realize it was near sunrise until it was too late.”

  “Where did Lena live?”

  “She lived here in Bedlam. She was out on the water fishing—don’t ask me, I gather it was a hobby of hers—when the sun started to rise. She tried to row to the docks, hoping to hide under it, but she didn’t make it in time. Whoosh—so much dust and ashes. Even worse, a group of school kids from Neverfall were there. Their teacher had taken them there for a sunrise lesson on water sprites. They saw the entire episode.”

  Neverfall was a magical school for gifted students located on the other side of Bedlam Island. Children of all ages were sent to Neverfall from all over the country, and the academy had earned a stellar reputation among the elite magical circles.

  I grimaced. “That must have been traumatic.”

  “Well, yes, it was. And the school ended up soothing a lot of parents of upset youngsters, even though it had nothing to do with them. On the other hand, there were enough witnesses that we knew exactly what happened. Except…”

  “Except what? There wasn’t anything suspicious, was there?”

  “Maddy, think about it. Lena was in a boat. The motor gave out. Because she was out on running water, she couldn’t dive in and swim for cover.”

  Vampires could travel over water, but they couldn’t swim. They also had to remain in their corporeal forms and couldn’t transform into mist or a bat or anything else until they were back on dry land. Which meant if Lena had gone out in a boat, then she couldn’t have returned to shore any other way than via the boat. And if the motor conked out near sunrise, she was shit out of luck.

  I suddenly realized what Delia was getting at. “Did you examine the motor?”

  “Yes. Somebody had deliberately disabled it. Even a cursory examination showed evidence that it had been rigged to work for a short period, then burn out. So why would Lena go out on a boat that had been tampered with near sunrise?” Delia shook her head. “Somebody wanted her dusted. We’ll never know why she was out there, but we can damned well bet that she was killed.”

  “When did Essie take over?”

  “A few days after Lena died. Essie moved to Bedlam, took the crown, and instituted a number of changes. Lena had been working with your coven to establish good grounds. Essie has been far more resistant. As I said, when I tried to bring up the treaties and Essie, Linda clammed up. But from everything I’ve discovered, I now believe that Essie’s doing her best to gain a foothold in Bedlam free from the coven’s oversight.”

  “You mean the vampires want autonomy free from the treaty that Lena worked out.”

  Delia shrugged, then leaned her elbows on the desk. “I can’t say for certain, but given what I know about Essie, I’m beginning to think so. And given the fact that we are pretty sure Lena was murdered and Essie swept in within days, I’m thinking she may have been behind it.”

  I thought about it for a moment. If we couldn’t trust Essie, then we couldn’t trust that she didn’t know where Rachel was. But why would she warn me about Rachel if they were in cahoots? Then, a light bulb flashed. I snapped my fingers.

  “Essie and Rachel seem to have some power control issues. My guess is that Rachel is after Essie’s throne, like Essie was after Lena’s throne. Essie wants to get rid of her so of course she’s going to warn me that Rachel is dangerous.”

  “I was thinking over what you told me about your meeting with her. That’s when I remembered Lena’s death. When I told Linda everything I was thinking about, she seemed reluctant to go there. She briefly took Essie’s side and insisted that Rachel’s the real danger.”

  “Either way, the vamps are looking to make inroads on Bedlam.” I shook my head. “Who do you put your bets on? Rachel or Essie being the main problem? Well, Rachel’s a problem for me, but I mean for Bedlam?”

  Delia paused, then blew out a long stream of air. “I don’t know, but Rachel’s rogue. She’s not bound by the treaty. Though if she wrested control from Essie, she would ostensibly be, but I have a feeling she wouldn’t abide by it. Essie’s bound by a treaty she didn’t create, but she’s more subtle than Rachel.”

  “So, on one hand, if Rachel ousts Essie, she’ll outright defy the treaty, while Essie may be working behind the scenes to dismantle it. No matter who’s in charge, Bedlam is in danger.”

  With a nod, Delia added, “Remember, too—if the vamps are attempting to break the treaty, the only way to do that is to destroy your coven. Or at least, cripple it. The Moonrise Coven is the one group that was vested with controlling the vampires. Bedlam can make all the laws we want, but when a vampire doesn’t want to follow the rules, there isn’t much to force them to.”

  “But there aren’t that many vamps on the island.” I really didn’t like the can of worms that we were opening.

  “Essie is the vampire queen of the entire Pacific Northwest. Her nest—her court—may be here, but her reach extends throughout several states. Can you imagine the number of vamps that she can potentially call to her bidding?”

  “And perhaps Rose’s murder—whether or not they thought it was me—was the first attack against the coven. Ralph’s feud with me was public. He was a convenient pawn.” With another headache looming, I let out a long sigh. “I’ll see if I can talk to Linda and get some answers. The Inner Court needs to prepare against more potential attacks. So, Rachel is after Aegis. She wants him back. But she may also be out for Essie’s crown. And Rachel—or Essie—or both—may be out to destroy the entire coven.”

  With that lovely thought on my mind, I made my good-byes and headed out to finish my errands before meeting with Sandy. We had a lot to talk about, and I wasn’t looking forward to any of it. As I crossed the snow-covered parking lot, the morning took on a silvery gloom, and for the first time, I wondered if spring would really come again.

  Chapter 9

  AFTER FINISHING UP some more of my Yule shopping—I found the perfect brandy flask for Sandy and a remote control mouse for Bubba—I stopped at the post office. The return address on the envelope in the box made me blink twice. My mother was writing to me? I hadn’t heard from her in over a decade, since my wedding to Craig. But I’d sent her pictures of the Bewitching Bedlam, and a quick note about what I was up to, and I guess I should have expected her to respond. There was also a packet of papers from city hall, including several approved licenses and another short form to fill out.

  As I slid back into my car, I stared at my mother’s handwriting. The letter was postmarked from Dublin, so she must be on vacation because she usually stayed close to her home near Aughrusbeg Lough. She had moved there about thirty years ago, bored and—I think—lonely. She had friends who lived near there, and the change was a fresh start. Over the years, my mother had grown bored of so many of her hobbies. That was one of the troubles of having an incredibly long life span. The same-old, same-old year in and year out made it easy to grow weary and lose heart. I blew on my fingers—my gloves were fingerless for easy driving—and hesitantly edged open the letter.

  My mother and I weren’t on the best of terms and she had constantly been after me to find the right man and settle down. Find yourself a nice quiet witch, she had said over and over, someone who could handle the vagrancies of a wife with “too much go in her get-up-and-go.” After a while, I quit protesting and just let her ramble on. Twenty minutes into any subject and she would start to wind down and I’d be able to shift the conversation. I had to face it. My mother was a golden-hearted ditz with a brain that was never going to win any races.

/>   Dear Maudlin,

  I read your letter as of late and I don’t mind telling you, I think you’re better off without Craig. He must have been an addle-brain to think he could keep you in the first place. You always were awfully smart, and he just didn’t have what it took to keep you interested. I always, always said you shouldn’t attempt to bond with a human. They just can’t fathom our lifestyle and Craig was too arrogant. He couldn’t handle his wife being better than he was. But darling, that certainly doesn’t mean I meant you should take up with a vampire.

  For the sake of the gods, think about this before you get in too deep. You’ve always been on the rebellious side, and I can’t help but feel this is just another way for you to throw dirt in my face. I thought your wild side was firmly in check after that Mad Maudlin business. Granted, you had reason to be upset, but darling, really, turning into a vampire hunter because of a man? If I’d been upset over your father’s desertion, do you think I’d be in the place I am now—

  I tossed the letter on the seat beside me. That was as far as I could make it without seeing red. Not only was my mother a ditz, she was a tactless one and she had very little compassion for others. My father had almost died at the teeth of a vicious dog pack. Wild, they were out hunting for food when they found him. He was in the woods, gathering herbs for tinctures and salves when they attacked.

  If a friend of his hadn’t been near and heard the commotion, he would have died. After Jonathan brought him home, Father managed to heal up, even with my mother badgering him about how he had almost left us destitute, with “her being so helpless.” After he was able to walk again, he took a job with the Society Magicka, a secret organization that watched over witches. With worldwide branches and a lot of casework, they kept Father away from home more often than not. Finally, he moved out altogether. I kept some contact with him, more than with my mother actually, but she had never forgiven him.

  He moved out around the time I took up with Tom. My mother always blamed my father for being a bad influence on me. She still didn’t know that I was in contact with him after all these years, but one of these days she was going to push me too far and it would come out. For now, though, she was safely on the other side of the ocean and I could set her letters down when they got too much to handle.

  Shaking my head, I put the car in gear and headed for the Blue Jinn.

  SANDY WAS WAITING for me. She jumped in the passenger seat as soon as I stopped.

  “It’s freaking cold out there,” she said, clearing the mail off of the seat. As she fastened her seat belt, she smoothed out the pages of my mother’s letter and began replacing them in the envelope when she caught sight of the return address. “You got a letter from Zara?”

  “Um hmm. You can read it if you want.” I didn’t care. Sandy knew most all of my secrets, including how batshit crazy my mother was.

  As she skimmed through it she snorted, then paused. “Um, have you read all of it?”

  “No.” I suddenly realized I didn’t know where I was going. We had meant to go into the diner for lunch but apparently neither one of us had remembered that fact. “Where do you want to go? Piper’s Chicken?”

  “That sounds good,” she said absently. “Maddy, you need to read the rest of this.”

  I turned left into the parking lot and edged into a spot near the door of the fast-food chicken joint. “Why? It’s the same-old, same-old.”

  “Not quite. Near the end, she says, ‘So I thought I’d come stay with you for a month in the summer. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? It’s been decades since I visited and I can meet this vampire of yours—if you’re still together—and see what kind of business you’re trying to run. If I like it, I might think about moving over there.’ That doesn’t sound like the same-old you talk about.”

  Crap! My mother wanted to come visit. And maybe move here? The last time she flew over to hang out with me, we barely made it through my wedding before getting into a huge fight. I put her on a plane back to Ireland first thing the next morning. I loved Zara, but she made me want to tear my hair out.

  “No. Just no. She’s not coming here. I’ll call her tonight and tell her to forget it. Last time was a disaster. You’d think she would have learned that we just don’t get along in the same room.”

  “Your mother needs a crash course in reality. I hate to say it, but if there’s any way you can waylay her, do it. She’s not a good person for you to be around.” Sandy tossed the letter over her shoulder into the back seat. “So, visit Rose’s parents first?”

  As much as I was dreading it, I nodded. “Let’s do this thing. Remember, we can’t say much about the case. Delia would have our hide.”

  “I know.” Sandy stared at her hands. “If they act out, just remember, they’re in mourning.”

  I nodded. They might very well blame me, since Rose died on my land. And with Rose’s sister missing, they’d already be on edge. “Yeah. I’ll be kind, no matter what they say.”

  I turned left on Wolfbane Street, then parked in front of a modest house. It looked like every other house of its generation, but the Williamses kept up the grounds, and the house was clean and tidy. Somehow, the sight of it made me feel sadder than before.

  “Let’s get this over with.” I glanced at Sandy. “I’m not sure what the hell to say.”

  “Just say ‘I’m sorry.’ That’s all we can offer.”

  We entered through the trellis-arched gate. A white picket fence cordoned off the yard. A tall maple shaded the right side of the house, and a couple of small firs stood guard to the left, but the overall impression was one of genteel poverty.

  The Williamses kept their house looking neat—it was freshly painted—and the yard was manicured, but they probably had lived through some lean times. Usually magical families were fairly well off, gathering centuries of accumulated wealth. But nowadays, that wasn’t quite so true. While there were magical ways to summon up wealth, prosperity spells didn’t guarantee wealth beyond measure, and given the high cost of living of the current days, fewer witches found themselves in the filthy-rich category.

  I stomped my feet on the top step to shake off the snow as Sandy knocked at the door. I really had no idea what to expect. The Williamses were nice people, but their daughter had been murdered at my house. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about it if the situation was reversed.

  The door opened. Mrs. Williams stood there, looking older than I remembered. Her hair was graying and her shoulders sloped, as if she were wearing the weight of the world on them.

  “Maudlin, Sandy…won’t you come in?” Her voice cracked as she took a step back, opening the door so we could enter.

  The house was as tidy inside as it was out, although everything had a threadbare look to it. I had met too many families in this predicament. Everybody would be friendly and helpful, but when they insisted you stay for dinner, you knew it would come at a dear price for them.

  “Thank you,” I said uncertainly. “We wanted to come by and pay our respects. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Williams.”

  She led us into a parlor barely big enough for the love seat, sofa, and upright piano that it contained. The walls were papered in a faded hydrangea print, and the fireplace mantel looked like it could use refinishing. But there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. Framed pictures lined the mantel, several of them I recognized as of Rose. Two were current, but in one, she had to have been four or five. She was standing knee-deep at the shore, laughing as she held up a starfish. There were pictures of another girl on the mantel too. She looked a lot like Rose, only she was a little older. In one photo, the girls were hugging.

  “Rose always loved the water,” Mrs. Williams said. “My girl, she was in tune with the Ocean Mother. If she’d been born one of the Fae, she would have been a siren, or an undine perhaps. She spent every moment she could near the water and loved living on an island.”

  “She was smart and talented, that’s for sure.” I glanced over at Sand
y.

  “We’ll be sending out service notifications soon,” her mother said. “When it’s time for the actual Cord Cutting, we’ll be in touch with your coven. We would like to ask if you would plan it for us, since she was a member.”

  “Of course.” The service would be the first of three steps in our death rituals. It was a farewell to Rose, a look at her life—a tearful good-bye. The second step—the Cord Cutting—would be where we magically let her go and wished her well on her transition. That usually happened a year after the service. And shortly after the Cord Cutting would be the wake—the party to celebrate Rose’s life and to close the cycle.

  “I want to thank you for being her friend. Can we ask what she was doing at your house? The sheriff didn’t really go into that. But whatever we can find out about our daughter’s last hours, we’d like to know.” Rose’s mother fished a handkerchief out of her pocket and lowered herself to the love seat. “I’m sorry. I’m so tired, it seems.”

  As Sandy and I sat on the sofa, I realized there was something I needed to do. “Rose asked me for a Finding spell. To help locate her sister. I gather she’s still missing?”

  The expression on Mrs. Williams’s face was painful. “Yes. Lavender vanished a couple weeks back. We know she’s in danger.”

  “If you like, I’ll come by in a few days, after you’re over the worst of the shock. I can cast the spell I gave to Rose for you.” I crossed the room and sat beside her on the love seat, taking her hand in mine. “Rose wanted so badly to help find her sister. I couldn’t stop what happened to Rose, but maybe I can help you find Lavender, Mrs. Williams.”

  “Please call me Primrose.” Rose’s mother burst into tears as she squeezed my hand. “Thank you. Thank you. We’re kitchen witches. We just don’t have the knack for spells like that. My husband’s been so angry. He thinks Lavender walked away from the family, but I know in my heart that she would never vanish on her own. Not without telling us. You’ll have to work with me—he wouldn’t like it, especially now with Rose…now that she’s gone. But I know my daughters. Lavender loved her family.”