Prague Murder (10 page)

“
What did you do to Agnes?”
Igor the Vampire yelled at Ingrid.

“Shut up,” Ingrid said as she stared at him and saw entirely unexpected things in his face. She could hardly even…

“What?” Emily said looking between Ingrid and Igor the Vampire.

“Oh my goodness, who changed you into a vampire?” Her voice was aghast as she stared at him.

“What!” Cathy and Emily demanded in unison.

“Look at his face,” Ingrid said, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Cathy’s head cocked as she stared at Igor the Vampire and then she said, “But…that’s so cruel.”

“You have a girlfriend,” Emily gasped. “You’re dating Meredith.”

Igor the Vampire choked as he said, “We can
never
be together. I am a vampire. She is a ghost. I love her.
So much.
But…we can never be together. She’s my best friend. She’s why I do these stupid tours She’s…
everything.
But…”

“You can never be together,” Cathy said for him. She reached out a hand to cup his cheek and said, “What was done to you was so wrong.”

Igor’s eyes teared and he asked, “What did you say to her?”

This time his voice wasn’t accusatory but a little broken.

“I asked her why she kept coming back since she wasn’t going to find her love here.” Ingrid swallowed. She was such a cow-dove.

“Sweet Hecate,” Igor said, eyes tearing as he stared where Ingrid presumed that Agnes had disappeared. “Look…”

He stopped as the Presidium investigators came back.

“What is happening here,” Alois demanded while the other Igor looked menacing.

“Oh shut it,” Ingrid said. “Igor…”

“That’s enough out of you, we need to talk to you again.”

“Listen,” Ingrid snapped, standing up. Her hair was flying around her head—caused by the fury of her emotions and her magic. She had no idea how it was happening and she really,
really,
needed it to stop. But she was too crappy of a witch to be able to do something like control her magic while she was upset.

“Um, Ingrid,” Emily said, carefully.

But as she faced them down, she caught that flash of movement again, and things began adding up in her head. She
knew
who had killed the guy.

“They are harassing us. And Igor the Vampire. And poor Agnes.” Ingrid’s vision flared red but she was pretty sure her eyes didn’t shoot fire like the dead dove. “You need to do your job.”

“That is enough out of you,” Alois said, straightening his shoulders to hulk over her better. “You have been investigated in four different murders.”

“Hey,” Emily said, stepping towards Alois, “that is enough. That doesn’t mean anything.”

The other tourists were gathering around as Ingrid began shouting even louder.

“Actually, two. Harrison wasn’t murdered. And no one
ever
thought I killed Jill Martin. Get your facts straight. Like the fact that you’re harassing me and Em because we were sort of near the dead guy when he got killed and, in the past, other idiot cops had assumed we were murderers. Except, there is his wife. HIS WIFE IS RIGHT THERE. Right
there
. I haven't seen you question her yet. Why? She’s obvious. Because she's crying so hard? Please. That is hardly a good reason. I was hysterical when my husband Harrison died and I still got questioned time and again.”

Ingrid pointed at the wife. Her face was white, and she was shaking her head as if to somehow stop Ingrid from pointing out the obvious. But Ingrid had no patience or understanding for killers. Even if she could sort of imagine what had happened.

The little shapeshifter was a bird. She was prey. And she hadn’t thought twice about that when she’d married another shapeshifter who turned into a dog. Dogs were still predators. She’d been living with a predator as prey. How had that gone?

The stress around the woman’s eyes and the tight press of her lips seemed to declare that it hadn’t been good at all.

Even still, Ingrid had very little sympathy. You didn’t kill to get out of things. You just stood up and left.

“Let me lay it out for you,” Ingrid said. Supposedly she was talking to the Presidium investigators, but her gaze was on the wife. “Family or friends are almost always the killer. She’s a shapeshifter who can flash around and has been all over that crime scene with her hummingbird ways. I caught glimpse after glimpse of her in the courtyard. How long has she been eavesdropping and being hysterical?”

The Presidium investigators looked at each other and the wife. The truth was…she
was
prey. She was shaking her head, but her expression declared that Ingrid was not wrong.

Ingrid carried on explaining, “She’s part witch so she could have poisoned him. She’s his wife and he was a predatorial shifter while she isn’t. They’re the worst match ever, and I haven’t even talked to her.”

The wife was shaking her head no again and again.

“Yeah,” Emily said. “
Yeah
.”

Ingrid was mad though, and she was having a well and good rant. “You guys are not cops. You’re Presidium. I suspect you have no right to keep all of us here or to keep focusing on me and Emily because we had the misfortune to have people killed around us.”

Alois opened his mouth but then his tie caught on fire. He slapped at his chest and Ingrid and Emily stared at each other.

“Did you do that?”

Emily shrugged.

“I might have, but I’m not sure.” Ingrid whispered as if the others couldn’t hear their byplay.

“I would like to have been the one who set him on fire,” Emily said, “So I’m claiming it. He’s a jerk. They're all jerks. I’m telling Dean.”

“Does that even mean anything if you tell him? I mean…he can’t even use his phone right now.”

“
Hey
,” Carol said, head cocking as she stared towards the dead guy’s wife. “I did see her over by the wall when we were outside. He was just in front of Ingrid, and she had…she had been moving away. And hey…I did see a flash by the corner of my eye just after the vampire started talking. I just didn’t realize it meant anything. But it could have been a person moving like a hummingbird.”

That was when the wife flashed her form into that of a hummingbird and tried to flee. Igor the Vampire took a leap and grabbed her in one hand.

“I think that fleeing accusations is pretty damning,” Emily said. “Now let us go or I’ll punch you all in the throat.”

The wife turned back into a human and she was crying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry all over again.”

“Prey,” Emily said, giving the woman a look of disgust. “They just crumple so fast. I think a rabbit shifter would have lasted longer.”

“ Agreed,” Ingrid said before declaring, “I’m leaving. If you have a problem with it, I suggest you call my lawyer.”

She stood up and looked at Igor the Vampire. “You need to tell Agnes what you told us. You need to let her move on. Staying here and interacting with her while dating another is bullcrap.”

But the ghost appeared from the wall just behind them. How long had she been there, Ingrid wondered. The answer came quickly.

“You’re in love?” Her voice was a hoarse wail but with all the volume of a whisper.

He nodded, but tears rolled down his face. It was not simple. He
did
love her.

“I…” Agnes started to say more but stopped. The look of agony on her face was terrible.

“I love you,” Igor said in a voice not so different from Agnes’s. All hoarse and pained and wrenching. “But…”

She just nodded and when she shot up into the sky, he whispered her name. As she dove back down this time, a crack appeared in the universe, a thin line of cool light as if a moonbeam had appeared from nowhere and Agnes dove into it.

“Oh gods,” Igor said as she disappeared. He fell to his knees and there was no question that he loved her as much today as he ever had. He wept openly as the crack of light snapped closed after his long-time love.

“This all makes me sad,” Ingrid said, wiping a tear away.

“Yes,” Emily, Cathy, and Carol said.

“I want a happily ever after for Agnes,” Emily said. “With a knight in shining armor. And…eternal chocolate rivers. And tacos for everyone.”

“That does sound lovely,” Cathy said as she wrapped an arm around Ingrid and said, “You did good.”

“Please,” Ingrid replied. “My boyfriend would have solved this in ten minutes and we’d have had fruit dumplings and tacos ages ago.”

“Next time,” Cathy said.

“Maybe,” Ingrid replied. “But now that we’re free. Tacos. Fruit dumplings. Wine. Naps.”

She didn't make it to the wine before she succumbed to her bed. And, they couldn’t find tacos, but she had her own platter of fruit dumplings and she slathered each one in chocolate sauce or cream sauce. As they ate, the two sisters told stories, reminiscing in bouts of giggles. It seemed as if they’d aged backwards to little girls during a sleepover.

But at the same time, it seemed as if Ingrid could look forward to the day when she and Emily couldn’t talk but for the laughter over their history and adventures. Perhaps by then, they would be able to not set things on fire.

She wasn’t holding her breath on that dream.

But the dream of trips into their 60s and 70s? That was beautiful.

THE END

Thank you for reading Prague Murder! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, you might also like Hallow Graves which is set in the same world as Inept Witches and tells the story of Rue Hallow. Check out the first chapter:

Chapter One

“Veruca,” the voice made my eye twitch.

When your mother was Autumn Jones of Sage Island, eye twitches were a fairly normal event. My mother handed me a frothy orange juice and then looked around my room with a frown. I could see her cataloging what I was taking, what I was leaving, and how I was packing. The eye twitch increased in speed and level of spasming.

I took a sip of the juice and set it on my dresser. There was a lot left to do, and the time to leave for the airport was ticking by far too quickly.

“Hey,” I said without inflection. I was tired of arguing. I just wanted to finish up and maybe get a hug before I left home.

“It’s not too late to go to Grace College.” My mother was a large woman with small eyes, a pursed mouth, and a way of looking at—everything—that said she found it wanting. That included her daughters.

“I have a full ride scholarship to St. Angelus,” I said without intonation. This was a conversation we’d had many times. I'd have hoped it would have been done by now since my flight was purchased, my room reserved, and my choice made.

“I can afford Grace,” Mother said. It was not an offer. It was a statement that required me to ask for the money to pay for Grace College.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t want her money. It was full of strings and controls. I wanted to make my own life.

“I already accepted St. Angelus.” That was when the warm, familiar relaxation hit me. Gods and monsters, my mother was a super-villain. “How many doses of truth serum are in the orange juice?”

She didn’t answer, she just smiled that cold, snake-ish smile. But I didn’t need the answer. With a sip that small and the level of relaxation I was feeling, it was probably a 1/3 truth serum My mother was a witch. So was I. And my sister. And nearly every friend I had. Not that I had many friends. My mother was Autumn Jones, and she was a jackal in the shape of a suburban housewife. But, she was also very good at magic and didn’t have an ounce of ethics in regards to its usage.

Which was why I was so very familiar with the cool, sweet relaxation of truth serum.

When people look back on their childhood for the comfort foods—for others, it will be mashed potatoes and gravy or grilled cheese and tomato soup. For me, it will be a warm drink dosed with truth serum and careful conversations that snatch all my secrets away.

“I believe you would prefer Grace.”

I opened my mouth and closed it several times. With truth serum in me, I couldn’t give her the lie that I’d prefer. It took me several moments to realize that I was an adult, and I didn’t have to justify what I wanted. That didn’t keep me from gaping like a fish in my bedroom fighting for an answer that I wanted to give.