Odd Melody (Odd Series Book 2) (6 page)

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Vickie and I returned to Odd Stuff and shuffled upstairs. I threw together some dinner while Vickie worked on homework. Then I locked myself in the bedroom with the phone.

I dialed Julia.

She answered on the first ring.

“Did Old Mother leave?”

“Yeah, after about an hour. So who is your soul mate?”

“Julia, focus. Who is yours?”

A moment of silence hung on the other end of the line. “Why do I have to tell you mine if you don't have to tell me yours?” Julia sounded almost plaintive.

I looked at the ceiling.
God, save me from stubborn witches.
“Okay, mine doesn't matter because I am in the process of getting rid of him and he knows it.”

“You told your soul mate you’re getting rid of him?”

I twirled the phone cord around my finger before answering her. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’m in a relationship.” I huffed out the words and tried not to drop the phone while untangling the phone cord. Who even had cords like these anymore anyway? Mia’s phone was weird like everything else in her world.

“Okay.” Julia’s voice translated doubt, even over the line.

“Chance.” I sighed as I admitted it, as if saying it would validate the propaganda of the soul mate theory.

“Oh, wow. He’s kind of scary.” She practically whispered the words. “What is he, exactly, anyway?”

“I have no idea.”

“I always figured soul mates were pretty much the same thing.”

“Guess not.” I ground my teeth together. “Especially since I am not sure if he’s a good guy or a bad one half the time. Okay, I told you mine. Spill.”

“I don't know who mine is. How did you know who yours was?”

“What?” I shrieked the word and then looked at the door, hoping no one would come check on me.

“I figured you were going to say Vance and that you had a fear of commitment or something.” I heard static and wondered if she was shifting the phone. “How was I supposed to know it was the weird dude?”

“Architects do not use the word ‘dude’.”

“Whatever.” She did not sound chastised. “So, how did you know?”

“I don't know, okay? He keeps insisting that we are. And there is this silver cord that appears that—”

“Oh, I know! It goes from solar plexus to solar plexus. I read about that.”

I held the phone away from my ear when she squealed. This was why I had limited my girlfriends in high school.

“So, is he creating the line for special effects to prove his point, or what?” I nibbled my finger.

“I don't think he can, but then again, he is Chance. No one knows exactly what he can or can't do.”

I sighed. “Now you can see wherein lies my confusion.”

“Yeah.”

And that summed it up.

CHAPTER Four

I left my room in an even crappier mood than when I had entered it. It had not been one of the better Mondays in my personal history. I kind of wanted to curl up in a ball and wake up on Tuesday, but I needed to earn my FBI pay. I had to go look for the Harbor Hammer. Maybe I could get Hammered. It was Hammer time. Oh, I could have gone on and on with the Hammer lines.

I plunked down on the sofa and listened to the wracking cough that made its way up the stairs.
Ah, Mia. Fantastic.
The plague returned.

Old Mother said that Vance should stay here with Mia. That was dumb. Sven was her assistant. He should stay with her.

The next thing I knew the cough retreated accompanied by thuds.

Mia had fallen down the stairs.

I leaped to my feet and ran to check in a second. At the foot of the steps, Mia lay in a crumpled heap. I bent down next to her and touched her cheek.

She moaned. “What is the good of having all you supernatural frigging friends if you can't even catch me when I fall down my stairs?”

I had no real answer for that. “Are you okay?” I wanted to feel for broken bones, but I was afraid to move her in case of spinal injuries.

“Cushion of air spell…piece of cake.” She mumbled, and I had to lean in to hear. “Told you, I am a witch.”

I sighed and helped her up as the front door bell jangled.

Vance sauntered in. He looked better than fantastic. His long, black hair hung like a cloud of liquid night around him. His black shirt boasted ruffled sleeves and a deep vee that showcased his smooth chest. Being a dead guy, the weather, of course, didn't bother him. He smiled at me, his expression right out of a movie. My heart went pitter-patter, my loins tightened, and I felt like a lucky girl. Vance had that effect on me.

His expression immediately registered concern when he saw Mia. “What's wrong?”

“She’s stubborn and sick and will stay that way until her muse comes tomorrow, whatever the hell that means.”

“What?” Mia looked at me. Her hair stuck out at odd angles, giving her sort of an Einstein on crack look.

“Old Mother says your muse will come tomorrow, but you are going to be sick till then.” I said all of it in a rush, hoping it wouldn’t sound as silly if I mushed it all together in a blob.

“Son of a bitch.” Mia bit her lip and looked shocked.

“Is that bad?” Cocking my head, I continued to watch her.

“No, that’s good. I am going to be better and my muse is coming. That is what you just said, right?”

I blinked at her. Yup, that was what I had said. Still didn't see what good her muse coming would to do for her cold, but hey, I was a siren, not a witch. “Okay then. Sven can stay with you and Vic, and Vance and I can go after the Harbor Hammer and—”

“Bad idea.” Mia shook her head. “What if she catches this?”

“Then your muse can make her better, too?” It was feeble, but I had to try.

“Nope, that would be messing with freewill and fate. Sven can take care of Vic, and Vance can take me to his place till my muse gets here.” Mia shook her head, curls bobbing madly.

“Shit!” I hit my fist on the wall. “Does Old Mother have to be right about everything?”

Mia blinked at me owlishly. With the crazy hair, pale skin, and red nose, she looked clown-like. “Duh. She is Old Mother, dumb ass.”

I plodded back upstairs and called Sven's cell phone as ordered. He agreed to close Odd Stuff and put Vickie to bed. After guaranteeing I’d be on my own to hunt the Hammer, I helped Vickie with her homework. Then I kicked her butt at UNO. I was awesome at UNO.

When we were done, I trotted downstairs to confer with Sven regarding wardrobe for the night’s mission. We decided that due to weather, I should go with something trashy, but discreet. We wanted me to look dumb enough to attract a killer, but still be warm.

I kissed Vickie goodnight and locked myself in the public bathroom in the store. After slipping on my hunting attire, I came out and spun for Sven.

I wore a pair of tight jeans with holes at the knees that looked worn enough to give at the ass, but were actually reinforced. With these, I wore clunky, funky clogs, and under them purple and black striped tights. Under my coat, I wore an off the shoulder top made of crepe like material with baby doll sleeves in black. I decided not to wear a sticker over my visible siren mark. Most would think it was just a tattoo. I put on a choker with a single amethyst heart as my only jewelry, spiked my hair, and added a bit of black eye liner and black lipstick. I looked Goth enough that most people who knew me would not recognize me. That would hopefully cut down on the assassination attempts…if there were going to be any soon. I really didn't know. Once those who cared found out what I was, I would be on everyone’s hit list. Until then, maybe I could hover below the radar. Better safe than sorry became the motto.

I felt pretty cool in the getup. Halloween for Christmas. I was Sculley gone emo…or something. The disguise was as good as it would get. I shrugged and got Sven’s stamp of approval. I chose to ignore the fact that the seal came from a man who regularly wore leopard print and pink.

I didn't have to waste gas on the mission as Mia’s store sat conveniently in the scenic and historic Ashtabula Harbor. I crossed the street to one of our many bar neighbors. As I entered, a crowd of kids in their twenties, who seemed to have not a care in the world, swallowed me into their midst. None of them worried about hit lists or vamps, or supposed soul mates. Every one of my forty years pressed down on my shoulders, and I instantly felt desperately old.

Two bars, three beers, and a half an hour later, I had seen no one bearing a hammer. I had found no dead bodies. I had, however, been propositioned to a threesome, a foursome, and a lesbian experience. I had also been offered twenty bucks for head.

Quality folk go out on Monday nights, apparently. Dollar beer night, after all.

In the third bar, I found what I thought was a welcome sight. I glanced across the room and saw a bright red head. I grinned. It had to be. I cut through the crowd.

My cousin, Santino, hung out close to the pool tables. “Hi!” I sounded ridiculously breathless.

“Uh.” The single syllable grunt was all my cousin had to offer.

“It's me, Janie! What are you doing out on a Monday? Don't you work first shift?”

“Yeah.”

It seemed odd he had so little to say. “It is so good to see you.”

He pulled me into a hug. When he let me go, he shook his head. “You should have stayed away from me. I mean, you knew she would plant me.”

“Huh?” Sometimes I was so oblivious.

And then, I got grabbed.

Santino watched helplessly. “Your mom is the frigging queen. What was I supposed to do?”

I nodded, as I tried to break free from the arms that held me. It wasn't his fault. She could have kept him in the raft for an eternity for not obeying. As a full fairy, he was her minion. He had no choices when it came to her.

But, damn it, I did, and she knew it.

I struggled against my captors, but one self-defense lesson did not help me break free from what seemed to be, if the smell was anything to gage my situation on, two goblins. Maybe a red cap. Definitely bigger, badder things than me unless I wanted to sing and bring down everything in hearing distance. Which she had counted on me not doing.

My captors hauled me outside and stuffed me in a car, which took me five miles past Jefferson to New Lyme. Mother’s house seemed innocuous, just another house set up on a hill. When Vickie visited her grandma, she visited that plain, quiet house. The fairy raft floated between times, sort of under and in that house.

I hated going into the raft.

We stood on the grass and waited. The snow sucked at us, the wind blew. Then, slowly we began to sink. If the raft felt particularly evil, it could torture its victims by leaving them in the in-between place for years. Any moment spent there was torture. An invisible force sucked us below the earth, and the ground pulsed like a grave around me. It closed in and I could not breathe. Trapped, I could not move. If I struggled, the raft would leave me there. I lay back, relaxed, and waited. When it felt ready, it moved on. Inch by terrifying inch.

When we finally arrived, the wonder of my mother’s world momentarily distracted me from my anger. No place exists on earth more beautiful than the land of Faerie. Golden sea. Purple skies. And silver grass. Gilded fruit filled ornate bowls and hung from a rainbow’s array of trees. Seats made of sparkling crystal were scattered about, offering comfortable places to eat the fruit and consider the scenery. My darling mother wore a crystal crown, shamed by the rainbow of her wings. She also gave me the evil eye, which only ruined her elegance a little.

I sighed.

The Fairy Court had not looked upon me since I announced my plan to marry a mortal. I hadn't even come for Vickie's 'judgment' when they had proclaimed her mortal. They had cast me out. I wanted to stay out.

“Yes, mom, you kidnapped me?” I hoped irreverence would remind them that I was not a member of their court, that their laws did not apply to me. I was a top-sider, not a flipping fairy. They had voted me off the island, so to speak. They had no right to jerk me back into their cluster fuckery.

“Let’s not be dramatic, Janie.”

“Oh let’s.” My tone could have cut glass. Whatever a being’s personality in the mortal realm, it doubled in the land of fairie. Sarcastic by nature, I lose the ability to temper my tongue in Mom’s world. I was also really klutzy, so I stood pretty still whenever I got sucked into the melee.

“I told you earlier.” Her brittle tone raked on my nerves. I gritted my teeth before turning my lips up in a fake smile. “We have something very important to discuss.”

“What could we possibly have to talk about?” I quirked a brow at her.

“Many things.”

Fairies, like cats, play with their food before eating it. She had me, and she knew it. Playtime began.

The last time I had stood before the Grand Fairy Council, I had been a mouse. The council had hoped that I would become a super powerful thing. Instead, I had requested to marry James, Vickie's dad. I had asked, very prettily, to withdraw from the council once and for all. In response, they had tortured me for a week to see if I had any latent abilities.

Did I mention fairies suck? Because I’m not a fan.

Once they decided I had nothing of interest to them, they let me withdraw. My mother ranted for years about her great disappointment. I moved to Pennsylvania. When Vickie visited her grandmother, I stayed at a hotel, and Mother and I exchanged what passed for civilities. End of story.

Now that I had come to power, I expected that the fairies, ever in tune to nature, had to have picked up the vibrations. I hoped it would take them a while to understand that loser me had caused it. Apparently not. As Vickie would have said, “bummer.”

But I was no longer a mouse. I wouldn’t let her make me back into one either. I glared at her and whoever else was dumb enough to meet my gaze. “What do you want, Mother?”

“We want to reinstate you as a member of the council.” Her look was positively feral.