A Little Bit Witchy (A Riddler's Edge Cozy Mystery #1) Read online

  Pru and Jared nodded their agreement, and the tears finally fell free. And unfortunately, I am not a pretty crier. I’m more of the red-faced, snotty-nosed kind of crier. But hey, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about Jared trying it on with me – because no man would fancy me once he saw me snorting and sniffling. ‘You guys are great,’ I said. ‘You have no idea how much it means to me that you’re all on my side. But … I’m not sure what I want. I think I might just go for a walk on the beach to clear my head.’

  Jared reached out a hand, pulling me to standing. ‘Well then a walk you shall have, with the most wonderful escorts a lady could ask for.’

  Pru rolled her eyes and pulled her brother away from me. ‘She means a walk alone, Casanova.’

  He frowned. ‘She does? She doesn’t even want me to go with her?’

  I wiped my face and looked at the steps that ran from the Fisherman’s Friend carpark, down onto the sandy shore. The waves were lapping, the moon was shining. It was a beautiful night. The sort of night any woman would want to spend with a guy as handsome as Jared.

  ‘Not even you, I’m afraid,’ I said. ‘I have a lot to think about. But I won’t be long, so if you see Fuzz, tell him he’d better not be hogging the bed when I get back.’

  ≈

  I pulled off my boots and socks, kneading my toes into the damp sand. Sure, it was a chilly night, but I couldn’t help myself. I had always loved the seaside. It played a key part in my sexy-man-with-a-lighthouse fantasies, after all.

  I tried to think through everything that had happened with Arnold, but instead I found my mind turning to Bathsheba’s murder, and the article I was going to write. I really did want it to be a comprehensive piece. I wanted to portray all points of view, even if I didn’t agree with them all. The hatred Vlad’s Boys felt towards dayturners. The sweet, friendly Bathsheba I’d met on the train. The undying love her husband felt for her.

  There were more people I wanted to interview, too. I wanted to speak with Miriam a bit longer. Out of all the staff I’d spoken with, it seemed that she was closest to Gunnar. With his parents, and Gunnar himself, refusing to speak, Miriam’s words might be the closest I could get to peeking inside Gunnar’s mind.

  As if I’d conjured her by my thoughts alone, I suddenly saw Miriam a little further along the beach. She was standing close to the water, speaking into her phone. I quickened my steps, tiny seashell-shards and pebbles sticking into my feet as I ran.

  I was about ten feet away from her when I heard her side of the conversation clearly.

  ‘I know, right? He’s actually taking the fall for me.’ She giggled. ‘I told you he was the perfect guy to get on board. I mean, even I didn’t think he’d be dumb enough to get a tattoo when I suggested it, but he did it straight away.’

  I stopped, gulped, and ducked behind a nearby rock. Sure, I knew I’d probably done so way too late. She was bound to have sensed movement. The clever thing to have done would have been to casually walk by, say, ‘Hey Miriam,’ like I hadn’t got a care in the world, and keep on walking. Instead I was stooping behind a damp rock – not a very large one, either – and deciding whether it would be better to make a run for it, or to phone for help. Well done me. If anyone from the Secret Service is reading this, I should be back on the job market any day now, so give me a call.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Miriam called out.

  Okay, maybe all I could hope for right now was a godsend. Or a goddess send. I didn’t know the phone number of anyone in town, but I had the number of the Daily Riddler stored. Maybe Grace would be back by now. I dialled, stuck my phone back into my pocket, then stood up.

  ‘Hey there.’ I smiled and waved. ‘It’s Miriam, isn’t it?’

  She smiled back, but hers had even less warmth than my own. ‘You know I’m reading your mind right now, right?’

  ‘I … why would you do that?’ I barely had the sentence out when she disappeared from my view.

  All the research in the world couldn’t have prepared me for what happened next. I knew vampires could move fast, but I had no idea what that would be like when I saw it in action. Or didn’t see it in action. Before I knew it, Miriam was standing behind me, her teeth against my neck, her hand pulling my phone from my pocket, killing the call before throwing it aside.

  ‘I know you heard me,’ she said. ‘That’s the good thing about humans – they have no idea how to shield their thoughts. Right now you’re wondering how on earth Detective Quinn managed to overlook me.’ She moved her lips to my ear, her sharp teeth pricking my skin. ‘You think he’s grumpy but sexy. Yeah, I can see that. He’s also blind as a bat when it comes down to discovering the people behind Vlad’s Boys. He overlooked me because I’m not a boy.’ She giggled. ‘Classic misdirection, am I right? Most of our best assassins are women. We recruit dumb young guys like Gunnar to do the grunt work, and to take the fall if need be.’

  Thoughts of struggle faded as quickly as they began. Greg had told me mind-readers were a rarity among vampires. Not quite as rare as I wished. And my research had also told me that those vampires who could read human minds also tended to be more powerful in general. Which meant that Miriam was bound to be far stronger and faster than I could ever hope to be.

  There had to be some way out of this, though. Maybe Grace would try and call me back and get worried when I didn’t answer. Or perhaps Jared, Pru and Greg would come looking for me. But I couldn’t see or hear them anywhere near the beach, so it was more likely that they were continuing with their Pru-inclusive boys’ night out.

  I caught sight of the lighthouse, far along the shore. Maybe Detective Quinn was in there now, looking through a telescope (he had everything else my sexy lighthouse-fantasy man had, so why not that?). He’d spy me down here and … what? He probably wouldn’t come to my rescue. I mean, he hated my guts, so why not let me get murdered by a vampire? It wasn’t as though I actually cared what he thought of me. I wasn’t a needy woman. But he could at least show some sort of decency and try to rescue me, instead of just standing there in his lighthouse enjoying the show.

  ‘For the love of Dracula! What is with your brain? You realise you’re getting annoyed with a guy because you’ve imagined he’s looking out through a telescope at you right now.’ She shook her head. ‘Dear me, humans are dumb. But listen, I have things to do tonight, so I’m just going to get on with it and murder you, okay? And I might take a little drink of your blood, first. It’s a while since I’ve eaten.’

  I didn’t want to be the woman who just stood there while a vampire drank from her and plotted her murder, really I didn’t. But what was I going to do about it? Sure, I’d taken a few self-defence classes, but I didn’t think I’d hold up too well against Miriam. Also, she could probably just compel me to be docile even if I tried.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, her teeth sinking into my neck. ‘I could.’

  Ahem. This is the kind of paragraph that needs some preparatory throat clearing. Ahem. Quite a lot of it, it turns out. Because in the same way as I hadn’t been prepared for the reality of Miriam’s strength, I also hadn’t been prepared for the experience of being bitten. And it was – ahem – it was … well, it was euphoric. Something I could definitely get used to, if she didn’t decide to drain me dry. I was feeling energised by the whole thing, truth be told. I was feeling like, as soon as she took a break, I might just have summoned the strength to fight her off. I was–

  ‘Ugh!’ She pushed me away, throwing up on the sand.

  Hmm. I should probably be insulted. And I would be later on, no doubt. But for the time being, she was vomiting a lot, and I decided to take the opportunity to scarper. I didn’t even stop to pick up my shoes. I just ran towards the steps that would lead me back to the Fisherman’s Friend carpark, my lungs burning with the effort.

  I was about three feet away from those steps when I was pulled back, hard and swift. Before I could figure out what was happening, I was lying face down in the water, with Miriam’s hands around my thr
oat. ‘What the hell are you? Your blood just made me throw up.’

  ‘Yeah, I noticed that,’ I said through a mouthful of sand and salt water. ‘Say, maybe we should talk about it. We could figure out what’s up with my blood. You could tell me a little more about Vlad’s Boys. Y’know – some nice girly back and forth.’

  She smacked me hard across the face. ‘Listen, sweetie, I’m aware that some villains like to do a bit of a tell-all before they kill their victim. And I can see the benefit. A bit of catharsis. Get all of the stress out by unloading it on someone you’re soon going to shut up forever. But I think I’ll forgo that, seeing as I’m still feeling slightly nauseous. Oh, and if you’re worried about me getting caught, then don’t. I’ve been in your head. I know how upset you are about this whole Is Abby my mammy thing. And it’s probably fairly obvious to anyone who can’t read your pathetic thoughts, too. So I’m going to put a whole heap of stones in your pockets before I drown you. They’ll think you were so depressed that you did it to yourself.’

  I was surprised she said before she drowned me, because as far as I could tell, it was already happening. ‘They’ll see the bite marks!’ I spluttered. ‘They’ll know I didn’t drown myself.’

  ‘My bite has healing qualities, Sherlock. The marks will have disappeared by the time they find you. No one will ever know you’ve been bitten.’ She shuddered. ‘I wish I could undo the memory of that little interaction. You taste like crud. No, you taste like the crud that the rest of the crud has crudded out.’

  ‘No need to be insulting,’ I said in a somewhat garbled tone. I felt her weight lift off me then, but before I could move she was back again with the promised stones. How nice – a woman of her word. I felt her stuff them into my pockets, then lift me up and move me into deeper water.

  This was it, my last hurrah. I’d never imagined it would be a hurrah-filled hurrah, to be honest. I’d imagined myself dying alone in my flat, half a dozen cats feasting on me until someone finally complained to the building manager about the smell. At least this was a bit more exciting.

  I struggled and flailed for a while, and then there was the excruciating discomfort that being drowned entails, but after a few minutes of all that good stuff, my thoughts began to drift away …

  21. The Kiss of Life

  ‘I’m kind of disappointed,’ said a husky voice. ‘I was hoping I’d get to enjoy that for a little bit longer.’

  My eyelids were heavy as mud, and my ears felt like someone had shoved a scream inside. My mouth was wet, tasting of brine. I forced my eyes open, sat up and wiped my face. Jared was looking down at me, smiling. His face looked as wet as mine felt. His T-Shirt, too. Actually, all of him was wet. Fuzz was sitting next to him, not quite soaked through, but definitely a bit damp.

  My brain finally caught up with what was happening, and I said, ‘Wait – you just saved my life?’

  Jared grinned, while Fuzz rubbed up against me and purred.

  ‘Well, it wasn’t exactly a chore. I did enjoy the whole mouth-to-mouth resuscitation thing, I must admit. And the fight I had with Miriam was also oddly satisfying. I should probably speak with a therapist about that. Unresolved issues with my mother, perhaps? Anyway.’ He shook his head, droplets falling from his bleached hair onto my legs. Dear goddess, a wet man had never looked so attractive. ‘Much as I wish I could take all the credit, you have Fuzz here to thank, too.’

  I picked the cat up, stroking his black fur. A wave of warmth seemed to rush from him into me, and it was so comforting that I felt as if my body was instantly recovering from the whole almost-drowning debacle. And, whilst I still couldn’t hear a word he said, I had the uncanny feeling that Fuzz was saying something, and that whatever it was, it was lovely.

  ‘I heard him scratching to get into your bedroom,’ Jared went on. ‘And I know you said not to let him hog the bed, but he is awfully cute. Y’know – for a creature who hates vampires with a passion. Anyway, as soon as I let him in, he walked over to the telescope and started meowing like crazy. I took a look and … well, y’know, I can move super-fast when I want to. Just another of my attributes you might want to consider the next time you turn down my offer of a date.’

  My heart began to beat a little wildly. Jared with a telescope, seeing my struggle and coming to my rescue. Okay, so he didn’t live in a lighthouse, but the Vander Inn was kind of sexy. Y’know, if you overlooked the doilies.

  I glanced down at the cat. It was safer than staring at Jared with my tongue hanging out. ‘You’ve managed to get into my room with the door closed before,’ I said.

  Fuzz head-bumped me, purring louder than ever. What the criminy did all of this mean? Did the cat know I was in trouble? Was this whole witch-familiar thing really happening? Didn’t that require me to be a witch? I shook my head. Such thoughts could wait. After all, I had a whole two days left to mull them over before I lost all memory of my time here. ‘Where’s Miriam?’

  Jared pointed up the beach. Miriam was standing next to Greg, stock-still, while he held that sparkly purple wand of his out towards her. Pru and her mother were a little further up the beach, leading a group of people towards us. Some of them were dressed like Gretel.

  ‘Pru called Greg while I came here to rescue you,’ Jared explained. ‘He got here just in time, and Pru got on the phone to the Wayfarers in the meantime. I was struggling to hold Miriam in check and do the whole glorious kiss of life thing, so it was a good thing I had some help. That wand of Greg’s must be pretty powerful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a wizard manage a freezing spell before.’

  ‘It’s an OAP,’ I said, giggling a little manically. Greg the wizard had frozen Miriam the vampire with an OAP, while another vampire had given me mouth-to-mouth. Not only had he given me mouth-to-mouth, but he’d done so without telling me I tasted like crud. I was trying to think of something sensible to say, when I saw flashing lights in the Fisherman’s Friend carpark. Next came the slam of a car door, followed by Detective Quinn rushing down onto the beach.

  ‘About time too,’ Jared muttered, his jaw tense. ‘I heard he was having a date with his ex-fiancée tonight. Trying to rekindle the old flame. I mean, sure, we all need time off, but … how could he have overlooked Miriam? You could have died tonight, because of his ineptitude.’

  A strange feeling crashed into my chest. It felt like I was being insulted. Which was ridiculous, right? But I had the sudden need to defend Detective Quinn as strongly as I might defend myself. ‘He wasn’t the only one trying to find the killer. You might as well blame all of these Wayfarer people, too, if you’re going to start throwing blame around.’

  Instead of acting insulted by my words, Jared smiled softly down at me. ‘You have a heart of gold, do you know that? Come on, I want to get you home and warmed up. And my mother will want to mollycoddle you for days to come.’

  I stood up, glancing at Detective Quinn. ‘I should probably tell him what happened, first.’

  Jared wrapped an arm around my waist, steadying me. It was a good thing, too, because I’d stood up far more quickly than I should have, and I was experiencing a headrush.

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘What was I thinking? But I’ll stay by your side, if that’s okay. I want to make sure you don’t wear yourself out.’

  ≈

  I sat at my desk the next day, writing up the events of the night before and expanding the story. I hoped Grace was a quick editor, because this piece was constantly evolving. As long as nothing else surprising happened in the meantime, I should be finished by the end of the day.

  She’d been out the night before, and hadn’t heard my call. But it had apparently gone to voicemail for a few seconds before Miriam threw my phone away, and the beginning of our conversation had been clear. If Miriam had murdered me, she would have been the chief suspect. I could lie to you and tell you I found comfort in that thought, but I’m not quite so noble. I was very glad to be alive.

  I was also glad that my mobile phone was alive. Greg had
found it on the sand and managed to repair any water damage. Who knew a wizard could be so useful?

  The atmosphere in the Daily Riddler was doing nothing to help my writing speed along. Malachy had brought me coffee and croissants, Greg had brought me coffee and doughnuts. Edward had brought me green tea and overnight oats, and Roarke had brought me chai tea, cinnamon rolls and a book of puzzles. I mean, sure, I ate and drank it all – I was hardly going to be rude – but all the niceness was a little embarrassing. Back at the Daily Dubliner, the most anyone sent my way was a grunt.

  The precious princess treatment in the office was nothing compared to what it had been like at the Vander Inn, though. Jared, Pru and Nollaig had been fussing over me so much that I’d been glad to escape to work.

  It was about eleven a.m. when Detective Quinn marched into the office. Judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t here to bring me a snack. ‘You look recovered,’ he said, dragging a chair over next to me.

  I shrugged. ‘I’ve been reading up on vampire bites. Apparently they can be rather energising. You’re not looking too well-rested yourself, though.’

  ‘I’ll head off to bed once I’ve seen Greg. I need him, and badly. But I want to talk to you first, Miss Smith. I know you told me everything Miriam said last night, but maybe there was something you missed. Did she mention Bathsheba at all?’

  ‘Nope, not a jot. Why? And why do you need Greg? Wait, don’t tell me – you only want him for his computer skills. I mean, he’ll probably be a little disappointed if you don’t buy him dinner first, but …’

  The detective rolled his eyes. ‘There’s something wrong with you, do you know that? Last night a vampire almost murdered you, and today you’re joking around as if it never happened. And speaking of last night … you and Mr Montague looked awfully close.’