Witch Upon a Star (A Midnight Magic Mystery) (20 page)

“She’s a witch,” Nathan pointed out.

“She is a consort first.”

“So he,” Nathan said, nodding to Oliver, “the one who stood by and did nothing while three people were butchered, gets off scot free, but Annie faces a possible death sentence? Does that seem right to anyone?”

“It is—” Lord Peter began.

“Agent West is right,” High Priestess McGregor proclaimed. “Everyone at this table is making concessions for the greater good, Peter. What good would it possibly serve to punish this young girl? We all heard her account. She has suffered enough already. This Asher got nothing less than what he deserved as will this Christine when you locate her,” she added with a hard edge.

“Yeah, let the girl get on with her life for God’s”—the vampires hissed—“sake,” Conlon said. “If what Texas said here is true, she helped crack my Abby’s case. And she tried to stop the killings last night, unlike others.
She’s
the heroic one here. Hell, George, maybe you should take her onboard too. Two for the price of one. She is one of you super-witches—right, Sally? Knows vampires, knows witches, has no problem killing? Sounds like an ideal F.R.E.A.K. to me.”

“She’d be an excellent addition, Dr. Black,” Nathan chimed in as well. “And having a witch would be useful, especially a High Priestess.”

“The girl needs to be punish—”

“
I
insist, your lordship,” Conlon said with a hard edge. I knew he was only taking my side to aggravate the vampire, but I was grateful none the less. “All in the spirit of cooperation, right, Sally? George? Like you both said, it’s why we’re all here.”

“If the deal’s good enough for him,” Nathan said, nodding to Oliver too, “why not her?”

Dr. Black looked at the perturbed Lord of Washington. “Peter?”

“Ten years,” he said.

“Six months,” McGregor countered.

“Two years,” Dr. Black said with finality. “Is that agreeable to you, Miss Asher?”

“I-I-I suppose,” I said, still in a haze.

Conlon rose again. “Then we’ve covered everything. Guess the summit’s over. Hallelujah. Let’s do it again sometime. Come on, Frank. Time to skin that fucker.” With his friend in tow, the werewolves stalked out of the conference room.

Peter stood next. “Well. Then. This was relatively painless. Miss Asher, Oliver, I leave you in Dr. Black’s capable hands. Good luck. You shall both need it.” He nodded to Mrs. McGregor. “Always a pleasure, Sally.”

“And if you find that woman—” she began.

“I shall hold her in custody and notify you both immediately. Good evening all.”

I breathed a literal sigh of relief when he departed. My head still gyrated with all the current events; I couldn’t focus on just one. Then it was Mrs. McGregor’s turn to rise. “Well, that went better than I anticipated. No blood drawn. I’m shocked. Perhaps now we can convince them to make it a yearly event.”

“I was thinking precisely the same thing,” Dr. Black said.

The witch turned her gaze to Oliver and all kindness dropped as did Oliver’s eyes. Coward. “You got off easy,
sir
,” she said through gritted teeth. “You should die for what you’ve done. Instead, you’ve been given a chance for redemption. To make up for all your, I’m sure, considerable crimes. Don’t squander that. Make their deaths
mean
something.” She stared at me. “Both of you. Live a good life, live it to the fullest. Live it for
them
.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said softly.

The most powerful witch in the country, my kin, now probably lost to me forever, nodded at me, at George, then left to resume her life as well. Nobody was left in the room but us F.R.E.A.K.S.

“Well, this is a surprising turn of events,” Dr. Black said, “but hopefully one that will prove to be beneficial to us all.” He rose from the table too. “Mr. Smythe, Miss Asher, let me be the first to welcome you to the F.R.E.A.K.S. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have many unexpected arrangements to make. Nathan, stay with them until I return, please?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I leave you in good hands. You two rest. Training will begin tomorrow.” With a nod for each of us, the last of the power players departed.

Oliver fell back in his chair, and his entire body relaxed. “Well …
this should be interesting.”

I just sat in my chair staring into space until Nathan asked, “Are
you okay?”

“I have no idea.”

Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours before I had sat at a table with the nicest people alive, my heart full of hope and happiness for my new, wide-open future. Now they were dead because of me, and I was in a position to make sure no one ever met a similar fate. It meant something. It all
had
to mean something. And if it didn’t, then I’d
make
it mean something. Their deaths would not be in vain. Nor would Anna Asher’s. She died reclaiming her soul from the darkness. She died fighting for the future, and she won.
I
won. I would never let that darkness return. I wouldn’t squander the opportunities the universe provided. I swore to the universe, to the dead, to all who listened, I’d make the most of every single one. My future husband, the father of my children, and even then my best friend, squeezed my hand again. I squeezed back. Every. Single. One.

And Anna Olmstead Asher West always keeps her promises.

part ii

ray of light

age 29
stoker, ks

“Oh, my God, this
place is so rad! Is that a naked lady?”

I’d forgotten how child-inappropriate this mansion is. Priceless paintings and bric-a-brac laying about, antique furniture worth tens of thousands, and an entire room in one of the basements filled with enough weapons to invade Wyoming. Not to mention the inhabitants now include a vampire, a Pusher, a blind medium, a werewolf, and another witch. Save for Dr. Black, and unfortunately Oliver, the old gang from Nathan’s and my F.R.E.A.K.S. tenure have since retired. My family’s life is in the hands of veritable strangers. But we’re blessed to have them.

Nathan and the boys recovered from the shock far quicker than I did. My husband’s first act was to call Dr. Black for advice, which consisted of packing a bag and hopping the first flight to Wichita to hole up at the F.R.E.A.K.S. manor until the team traced Asher. Running and hiding worked for me. Nathan required persuading on this course of action. His inner Alpha male now unleashed, he insisted on remaining in Garland to help the agents with the investigation. If not for the boys I’d want the same, but after a heated argument where I had to remind my pig-headed husband
he
was the one marked for execution by a sociopath with unlimited resources and a grudge, Max ran into the room in tears, close to hyperventilating. His terror shocked us both out of our fear and rage. Nathan gave in to our baby boy’s pleas and agreed to accompany us to Stoker. So the Wests fled into the night with a dead Swiss National rotting in our living room and half-assed excuses for our family about our impromptu vacation. Another birthday to remember.

“Joseph Thomas West, get away from the painting and get into bed! Don’t make me tell you again!”

With a pout, my son obeys. He’s handling this whole situation far better than I anticipated. Hell, better than I am. He inherited his father’s quick resilience and sunny disposition, without question. To him we’re just on one big adventure. A bad man broke in, Mommy chased him away—they weren’t allowed in the living room—and now he gets to miss school, visit Mommy and Daddy’s old workplace, spend time with real FBI agents who carry guns, and watch TV all day. Little boy heaven.

Max unfortunately takes after me. He knows, no he
feels
the danger and fear radiating around the air, then he internalizes it. My baby’s had so many stomachaches in his life he had to see a specialist, and that was before all this madness. He’s been glued to me and Nathan since this all began. As Joe explores his new surroundings with awe, Max sucks his thumb as he rests his towhead on my husband’s shoulder, just staring into space, deep in his own mind. I wish I could start him in therapy
right now
.

“Come on,” Nathan says from the bed. “Family pile.”

I shut the bathroom door and, like Joe, walk over to the king-size bed to join Nathan and Max in one big family pile. Nathan lifts his free arm to allow us both into his embrace. Maybe Joe’s just hiding his fear better because of late he hates family pile—calls it “Gross.” Tonight he crawls between Nathan and I, and even pulls my hand up to his racing heart. I snake my arm under my husband’s neck so I can pet Max’s downy hair. One second like this, all of us together, touching and I’m infinitely better. Max too as he stops sucking his thumb. “It’ll all be okay, guys. Mom and me and everyone here won’t let anyone hurt you, okay? We’re safe now.”

“How long are we gonna stay here?” Joe asks. “My soccer game’s on Saturday.”

“Sorry, champ. You’ll probably have to miss it.”

“But that’s so unfair,” he whines. “Why’d the bad man have to come now?”

The children know precious little about my past except that my parents are dead, I moved around a lot, and Daddy and I met when we were working for the FBI as analysts. That’s all
anyone
knows about me, even Nathan’s parents and sister. I’m already dreading the day the boys are old enough to ask the right questions because I will tell them the truth. They deserve to know it. They wouldn’t be alive without it. But today is not that day.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” I say honestly, “but we’ll make sure he goes away and never comes back, okay?” I say with a kiss to his head. “Until then, you have our permission to watch as much TV and eat as much ice cream as you want.”

“Really?” Max asks, finally perking up.

“Yep,” Nathan says. “But you have to be brave and strong and listen to all the grown-ups here, okay? Remember, we’re guests, so you must be on your best behavior.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Max whispers.

There’s a gentle knock on our door. “Come in!”

Oliver steps in. I haven’t set eyes on that man in almost eight years, and he’s still as gorgeous as ever. I wouldn’t say we became friends during my two years of F.R.E.A.K.S. duty, just begrudging acquaintances and colleagues. The first month we barely spoke, barely looked at one another unless absolutely necessary. If I did, I just saw the Harmons or recalled our depressing nights together. And I know a large part of him blamed me for his indentured servitude, though he never came out and said it. He avoided me, I avoided him, and he didn’t even attend our wedding, in the library downstairs, it being daylight, or wish me well when Nathan and I left. No, we’ll never be friends, but the vampire takes one look at us Wests all cuddled together, and a brief smile crosses his lips. For a vampire he’s a decent sort. “I apologize for interrupting. Your presence is required in the conference room.”

“Hi,” Joe says.

“Hello, little one.” His gray eyes move to Max, who once again sucks his thumb. “Other little one.”

“Okay, boys,” says Nathan, extracting himself to try to sit up. No such luck. Max clings to Nathan’s arm, holding tight with all his might. “Come on, Max, it’s okay.”

“No!” he whines.

“Stop being a baby,” Joe chides.

“Sweetie, we’re just going to be downstairs,” I say, petting his hair. “We’ll be back soon, I promise.” I pull him into a kiss. “No one is going to hurt you, okay? I mean it. No one. I promise.”

“Me too, buddy,” Nathan says.

“I promise it too,” Joe says.

After searching all our faces with his soulful brown eyes for artifice and finding none, Max loosens his stranglehold. “Okay.”

Nathan turns to Joe with a proud grin. It’s almost as wide as mine. “If you need us, just press 97. It’s the conference room.” He kisses Joe’s hair. “Take care of your brother.”

“Okay.”

I hug both my sons, and caress my baby boy’s chubby cheek. “I love you both so much.
So
much.”

“We love you, Mommy,” Max whispers.

“Try to get some sleep, okay? We’ll be back soon,” says Nathan.

Nathan and I climb out of bed, tuck in the boys, and follow Oliver out. Both Nathan and I sigh in unison after the door shuts. “They appear to be handling the situation quite well,” Oliver says as we begin walking.

“I hope so,” I say.

“They are beautiful boys,” Oliver adds. “You should be proud.”

“We are,” Nathan responds curtly. He never did take a shine to Oliver. Wonder why.

“Thank you,” I say. Oliver nods. “So, any news yet?”

“George sent two agents and our new medium to your house. They are still processing the scene while Andrew attempts to question the assassin, but—”

“That bastard’s ghost is still in our home?” Nathan asks.

“That’s a good thing,” I point out. “He may be able to tell us Asher’s whereabouts.”

“Yes, it is just a shame Mr. Fournier is not alive,” Oliver says. “We could have used other forms of persuasion as well.”

“I’m sure my wife will keep that in mind next time she’s literally fighting for her life,” Nathan snaps. “Making your job easier for you. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“I meant no disrespect, West. To either of you. I am sure Anna did not intentionally … inconvenience us.”

As we stroll down the hallway to the stairs, it hits me. I killed a man. I have really taken another living, breathing, human being’s life. All my years with Asher, all my years as a F.R.E.A.K., even with Dario, I had never crossed that final threshold. It may have been an accident, and it may have been self-defense, but regardless. It is another blotch of darkness on my soul, courtesy of Asher.

“Annie, sweetie, you okay? You’ve gone real pale,” says my husband.

“I-I’m fine. Just … a long, horrible day. I’m tired.”

Nathan slips his hand in mine, giving it a squeeze before kissing the top. “It’ll all be okay. You beat back this bastard before, we’ll just make sure we wallop him so hard this time he never gets up again.”

“So say we all,” Oliver says.

Somehow I manage to push the day’s gruesome memories aside and allow the beautiful ones to flood back, inspired by walking the halls of this mansion. My home for two years. Where I fell in love with the man by my side. When I came to this palatial five-story manor after my month of training, those first few hours I was afraid to leave my room. Everyone knew my past. What I’d done. I had no idea how the others would treat me. Would it be like boarding school? Like those girls, the agents also knew each other for years, had formed tight bonds forged from misery, and I was an interloper. My fears proved groundless. Nathan plucked me out of my bedroom and introduced me to everyone as the girl who averted a war. His vouching for me, his taking me under his wing, was all it took for the others to accept me. My saving their lives once or twice in the field might have had something to do with it too. But most of the credit goes to my ray of sunshine. I slip my hand in my husband’s, who smiles and squeezes tight.

The rest of the new team waits in the conference room around that familiar table with Dr. Black at the head per usual, as his un
derlings review the file. We’d met them all when we arrived: the FBI
agent Lau, the curvy werewolf Tara, the twenty-something Pusher Leif, and witch Martina. Lot of turnaround in the F.R.E.A.K.S. I still keep in touch with some of our old teammates, who have all moved on to greener pastures, some together like Nathan and I. Agent Brewster and Jade got married a few months after we did, but I was too pregnant with Joe to attend the wedding. The F.R.E.A.K.S. definitely lose more agents to intermarriage than death, present company included.

“Did the boys settle in alright?” asks Dr. Black.

“Yes, thank you,” I say as I sit.

“I cannot recall the last time there were children under this roof. This might be the first time ever,” says Dr. Black.

“And we appreciate you opening your doors to us all,” Nathan adds as he takes his old spot by my side, “more than you know.”

“So, please walk us though what transpired today in as much detail as possible, Anna,” Dr. Black says.

As I comply, the others take notes. Halfway through my tale, Nathan takes my hand again. I don’t even mind the electrical shock that accompanies the act. I know it’s driving him mad he wasn’t there to protect us. I personally thank the universe he wasn’t. They’d have two bodies to process had he been. “Thoughts?” Dr. Black asks when I’m done.

“Without a shadow of a doubt, this was Asher’s design,” Oliver begins. “Quite frankly, I am just surprised it took him this long to strike.”

“Me too,” I say under my breath. Nathan shoots me a sideways glance.

“First question to answer is how he found her,” Agent Lau says.

“No, the first question is how y’all didn’t know he was still alive?” Nathan spews.

“There have been a handful of sightings and rumors through the years,” Dr. Black says, “but none that could be substantiated. As you are aware, the vamp community can be very … tightlipped, especially with outsiders and law enforcement.”

“Well, you know the secret handshake,” Nathan says to Oliver.

“And believe me, West, I have not been idle since last we met. I have a network of associates who have, on occasion, fed me information on said rumors of our mutual friends. Unfortunately those associates are few and far between. Quite frankly, their loyalty to Asher far outweighs their loyalty to me. They have obviously closed ranks around him and Christine.”

“That bastard has to have some enemies,” Nathan says.

“Byron maybe,” I say. “Alain … he’d help for sure.”

“Not out of nobility though,” Oliver adds snidely. Still on bad terms with his sire it seems.

“And we care about his reasons because …” Nathan snaps, gar
nering a glare from Oliver.

“Well, do we know where to find either of them?” Tara, the werewolf, asks.

“Byron stays mostly in London, and if not, then his island in Greece,” Oliver says. “Alain … your guess is as good as mine. I do not know nor do I care. And regardless, as I said before, they will not speak to law enforcement.”

“It can’t hurt to try,” Lau says.

“I concur,” says Dr. Black. “I’ll reach out to the Rogue’s Gallery in London to locate this Byron.”

“Start with Lord Richard,” I suggest. “If Asher went to anyone for help, it’d be to him. He may know where both are.”

“We should contact all the European bureaus,” Oliver says, “and have them brush up on the case and recheck all the locations Anna provided ten years ago. All the flats, all the nightspots … He has obviously grown careless through the years, otherwise we would not all be gathered at this table now.”

“Excellent idea,” says Dr. Black. “We’ll also see if the bureaus have anything on this assassin.”

“Didier worked for Lord Augustus of Vienna,” I say. “Augustus and Asher weren’t close, but a lot can change in ten years.”

“You are proof of that, Mrs. West,” Oliver says with a grin.

“Could this Asher be in Dallas?” Leif, the Pusher, asks.

“I have spoken to a contact close to Lord Fredrick,” Oliver says. “He does not believe Asher is within the territory, no.”

“Plus a preliminary search of Fournier’s hotel room and rental van indicate a private plane was on stand-by at Love Field,” Dr. Black adds. “The flight plan filed included three coffins as cargo set for New York City, then on to London.”

“So he’s probably in London right now,” Nathan says.

“No, by now he knows Didier has failed and probably fled,” I say.