Yuletide (Matilda Kavanagh Novels Book 3) (9 page)

Our eyes met, and her brows shot up. I nodded.

“Pumpkin,” she said and rubbed her face against the kitten’s head.

He purred, a tiny rumbling that made me melt.

“You’re sure?” I asked, taking the collar.

“I am.”

I nodded and pinched the nametag between my thumb and forefinger. I concentrated on the metal until it became hot against my fingers. When I took my fingers away, the name Pumpkin was etched on the metal above Ronnie’s phone number.

“Perfect,” I said before slipping it over the fuzzy orange head.

Ronnie gave me a one-armed hug. “Thank you. You’re the best sister I could’ve ever asked for.”

I had to hold my breath to keep from crying.

“All right, all right,” Antonia said, tapping us with the end of her cane to get us moving. “Enough, enough. Start moving.”

“Thank you, Antonia,” I said, laying a hand on her boney shoulder.

She squinted at me through her thick glasses, and for one second, I caught a smile on her wrinkled face. Then she was poking and jamming us with her cane to get the hell out of her apartment.

Chapter 9

I was so full of energy and holiday cheer that I couldn’t even think about bed when we got home. Besides, it was still early—sunrise was still hours away. Ronnie rushed to her apartment with Pumpkin bundled in her jacket, excited to show him his new home. She was talking a mile a minute about all the things she needed to buy. When we walked into her apartment, she went ultrasonic when she saw the gift basket on her coffee table from Joey and me, full of all the things she would need for a kitten: formula, food, toys, a tiny litter box, and more toys.

I left Ronnie so she could bond with her familiar, only their auras mingling during those first few crucial hours.

In my apartment, I was baking again. Artie was sleeping on the kitchen table, out of the way but still in sight, quelling my desire for a second furry friend. Over a dozen little gift bags were lined up on my counter, waiting to be filled with goodies for my regular customers. I’d had an influx of business in the last few months, but my regulars had gotten me through the lean months, making sure I didn’t lose my apartment or share a can of tuna with Artie. I wanted to thank them with a small token of appreciation.

Stupidly, I’d turned on the television, not realizing the late night news broadcast was coming on until it was too late to change the channel. My hands were covered in batter, so I couldn’t touch the remote. I tried to change the channel with my toe, but I only succeeded in kicking the remote under the couch. The stupid buttons on the television were on the back, where I couldn’t see them, and when I tried to flick a spark of power at the set, all I accomplished was flicking a glob of cookie dough at the screen.

The broadcasters were repeating the same five stories, but the one that was getting the most attention was the story about the mayor’s still-missing son and the other missing human children. Not all of the children were being snatched though. Some children were showing up in hospitals in the middle of the night with welts and bruises that they claimed to have woken with. Child Protective Services was investigating over twenty cases.

“It appears we have developing information on the case of the mayor’s missing son, Carlos Junior, known to his family as CJ,” the female anchor said, a look of grave concern on her face.

“Yes,” her male counterpart picked up seamlessly. “It appears that CJ Martinez was having some difficulty in school. Campus police were investigating him for reports of cyber bullying.”

I stood behind my couch, a bowl of cookie dough in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. I’d been telling myself that it was impossible that Krampus was doing this, but I couldn’t ignore it much longer.

“Allegedly CJ had been catfishing children with whom he’d had problems, including physical fights and teasing at his school located in the greater Los Angeles area.”

I smirked. Of course they were careful not to announce what school the kid went to for fear of other kids coming forward to accuse CJ of harassing them.

The news cut to an earlier broadcast of the mayor at a news conference. He was yelling into the microphone about finding the responsible party while his wife stood just behind and to the side of him, crying into a handkerchief. Their daughter was nowhere to be seen. Once again, they cut to the questions from the reporters. They made sure to play one question over and over again.

“Mr. Mayor, do you have a comment on the suggestion that there is a supernatural element behind these attacks?” The reporter was dressed in a black suit with a grey shirt and black tie. The epitome of the PEACE uniform if I ever saw it.

Just as the mayor shouted his answer about bringing anyone, supernatural or not, behind the attacks to justice, there was a knock at my door. I glanced at myself and sighed, almost dropping my dough when my shoulders slumped. When was I gonna learn to wait to put on pajamas until sunrise?

“Just a minute,” I called after they knocked a second time.

I rushed into the kitchen, sliding on stocking feet and knocking into the counter, where I set down the bowl and spoon. Grabbing a tea towel, I wiped my hands clean, only leaving some dough under my nails. I rushed for the door, stepping on the cuffs of my oversized flannel bottoms. There wasn’t much I could do about the dash of flour on my black T-shirt, but at least it matched the white lettering spelling out Black Witch White Magic.

I lifted up on my toes to check the peephole and saw a cluster of people waiting for me. I remembered the man dressed in a sloppy suit from Samhain as the arresting officer who took in Tollis. Behind him were two witches, Althea Courten and another I only recognized by sight. Standing beside all of them was Frankie. She towered over the others, her arms crossed under her ample bust and her eyes glowing yellow with anger as her nostrils flared.

I fell back on my heels and blew my bangs out of my face. Grumbling, I unlocked the door, lifting the freezing spell last. The door creaked when I pulled it open. All four faces looked at me. Frankie looked especially wolfish with her spikey lavender hair shot through with silver.

“Matilda Kavanagh?” the police officer said, and I nodded. “I’m Lieutenant Knoll. You may remember me from—”

“I remember,” I said. “Though I think it was detective then.”

“Yes, well it’s lieutenant now.”

“Congratulations.”

The sour look on his face showed how insincere I sounded. He’d gotten that promotion for bringing in Tollis and his pack, and that accolade belonged to Jameson and me. By the time the human police showed up, we had them bound in silver and ready to hand over. But whatever.

“Matilda, might we have a word?”

I visibly cringed when Althea said my name. She had a way of sounding like a disapproving grandmother, and we all know that grandmothers are supposed to sound doting and proud.

“Mattie, what’s all this about?” Frankie asked, her voice raspy with anger.

I looked in her steely yellow eyes and shrugged. “You got me. What is this about?”

“If we could speak inside?” Knoll said, nodding toward me.

I shared another look with Frankie before stepping back and opening the door so they could come inside. Frankie followed them, standing with me when I shut the door. It was strange to have her standing next to me, glaring at my uninvited guests as if she was protecting me.

“So what are two Collar Witches doing in my building?” Frankie demanded when I turned back around after locking the door.

I didn’t cringe that time because that was exactly what I was wondering. The two witches with Knoll flinched at the term.

When the humans had needed something to help them contain detained supernaturals, it was witches who’d stepped up to help. Those witches in particular. The city coven had developed a restraint that rendered inhuman strength weak, hampered magic, and was impenetrable to metal magic workers, like gremlins. Why they used collars instead of cuffs like the humans did, I would never understand, and they’d never given a satisfactory answer. Collars, like animals on a leash. Though helping the humans made the rest of the community mistrust the coven, it gave them a lot of clout with the human government. Althea had even been photographed with the president and other heads of state.

“I’m sure you’ve seen the reports of missing and abused children,” Knoll said, stepping in front of the witches to break Frankie’s eye line on them.

“I have,” I said.

“Well, the mayor would like some supernatural intervention.” Knoll was very good at almost totally hiding his feeling on the subject, but the muscle in his cheek jumped and his shoulders flexed under his jacket.

“Peachy,” I said, realizing I’d crossed my arms and mirrored Frankie’s stance.

“Matilda,” Althea said, stepping forward. She wasn’t quelled by Frankie’s glare. When she squared her shoulders, she almost seemed to grow to match the she-wolf’s stature. “You seem to possess a special set of skills, and it is your duty to help, just as it is the duty of all witches to help the community when called upon.”

I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”

“We have come to enlist you to help sort out the source of this problem. You will help us locate and contain the person or persons responsible for these crimes and return the children to their homes.” Althea said all that as though I had no choice in the matter.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’?” I asked, making the older woman blink. She may not remember me, but I damn well remembered her. When my parents died, Althea had almost stopped Ronnie’s parents from raising me until I was of legal age. She’d insisted that I join the coven and learn at their school, a school that was better described as a convent.

“Excuse me?” she demanded.

“Mattie, you’re not going to work for the Collar Coven, are you?” Frankie demanded.

“No,” I said, looking at the three other people in the apartment.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Knoll asked, his eyes bulging in his tired face. “There are kids missing.”

“I know that, but I’m not a Tracker. That’s not my job. If you’d like to buy some locator charms, I’d be happy to brew them for you, though I’m sure either of these two women could do that just as easily.”

“You may not think you’re a Tracker, Ms. Kavanagh,” Knoll said, stepping closer, “but your record would say otherwise.”

“What?”

Knoll dug into his pocket and pulled out a phone almost the size of his hand. He tapped on the screen, squinting at it.

I shifted from foot to foot, feeling the heat of Frankie’s body almost burning the side of my face as she glared at the trio. I still couldn’t get my head around the idea that she was in my apartment to be on my side, not to punch a hole in my wall.

Artemis walked out of the kitchen, circled the ankles of the uninvited guests, and gave them all a sniff before flicking his tail and sauntering off to the bedroom. I had to stifle a laugh at the fact that he avoided inspecting Frankie. But it was something that he didn’t hiss or spit at her before darting away.

“Here we go,” Knoll muttered. “Did you or did you not locate Jackson Racanelli six months ago and thereby locate the missing Fae Prince, Roane, along with multiple other kidnapped victims?”

“Well, yeah but—”

“And was it not you who helped recover a group of missing humans who had been kidnapped by a rogue Werewolf by the name of Tollis Ayres, who was in the process of brainwashing them with drugs, ultimately leading to the arrest of Ayres?”

“Okay, but—”

“So you may not be a Tracker, but you seem to have the reputation of one.”

“No.” I held out my hands to stop him. “Sure, when you put it like that, that’s how it sounds, but that’s not how anything happened, and I wasn’t alone during any of that.”

“You’re more than welcome to enlist any help you might need,” Althea said.

“Listen,
chica
,” I said, rounding on her, “you’re supposed to be the Grand High Witch of Havencrest. Don’t you think this is your job if it’s anyone’s?”

“Matilda.”

I hated the way she said my name, and I had to fight the urge to snap at her like a child.

“It is my job to make sure the coven and the witches of the city are running smoothly and to delegate duties among my witches,” Althea said.

“Great, well, I’m not one of your witches.” I tilted my head and blinked at her.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and the muscle in her cheek jumped.

“But people need your help,” Knoll said.

“And I need to finish my baking,” I said, starting to turn toward the door. I caught Frankie’s eye, and she favored me with the slightest of smiles. It was a little unnerving.

“Ms. Kavanagh, please,” Knoll said, stepping forward.

“Why don’t you go find the hunters who caught Krampus in the first place?” I said, immediately regretting opening my mouth.

The looks that crossed their faces were a mix of shock and satisfaction.

“So you do know what’s going on,” Althea said, placing her hands on her hips and lifting her chin to look down at me.

“No one said Krampus,” Knoll said, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, steeling my nerves. When I opened my eyes again, I met Frankie’s stare. Her eyes were still hinting at yellow, her wolf shimmering just below the surface.

“It was a guess.” I faced the witches and cop, but none of them looked as though they believed me. “Fine, I guessed, okay? But that doesn’t change anything. There is no way in the seven hells that you’re getting me to go after a demigod. Go find the hunters that imprisoned him and get them to capture him again. And while you’re at it, find out who let him out and collar them. I’m out.” I opened the door and stepped back, holding the edge as I looked at them, waiting for them to leave.

“You heard the lady,” Frankie said, clapping so loudly it made everyone jump. “Let’s move.”

Althea gave me one last angry look before she stormed out, her lackey hot on her heels. Knoll followed them, but stopped when he was next to me.

“Here.” He pulled a card out of his pocket and held it out to me. “If you change your mind, or have anything that could help us, please call.”

I took the card without a word. He looked from me to Frankie and back again before nodding and stepping out. When I closed the door, I let out the breath I’d been holding and threw all the locks.