Miss Frost Ices The Imp: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 2) (15 page)

Birdie held up a forkful of blueberry pancakes. “That’s the spirit.”

Twenty minutes later, there were no survivors. Between Birdie and I, we’d cleaned our plates, barely leaving a hint of syrup or a stray berry behind. I insisted on paying the check, although Birdie protested. It only seemed fair since she was here to help me.

We had time to kill, but that was fine since I needed to retrieve the box from my apartment.

Birdie walked with me, happy to go along. “I love Santa’s Workshop. I buy all my grandnephew’s presents there. Charlie loves video games.”

“Does he? We sometimes get toys in the shop that aren’t available anywhere else. Sort of testing the waters, as it were. If any video games come in like that, I’ll let you know.”

“He’d love that, thank you.”

I let us into the building. We went up the elevator and down the hall to my apartment. “I should warn you before we go in. Thanks to the imp, my cat can talk and I never know what he’s going to say.” Although he’d yet to talk in front of anyone but me.

“No worries.” Birdie adjusted the straps of her big floral handbag. “I’m sure people say the same thing about me.”

I snorted as I unlocked the door. “I’m going to leave that one alone.” I pushed it open. “Spider, it’s me. And I have a visitor.”

He trotted out from the bedroom. Judging by his sleepy eyes, we’d woken him up. He looked at me, then at Birdie.

He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes going wide. A low growl came out of him, then he hissed and arched his back and his tail puffed up like a bottle brush.

I glared at him. “Spider, what’s wrong with you?”

He meowed and ran back into the bedroom.

“What on earth…” I glanced at Birdie. “Sorry about that. He’s never done that before, I swear.”

She shrugged good-naturedly. “Honey, I’m a werewolf. I’d be surprised if he
didn’t
have a reaction to me.”

“Well, maybe. But it still seems rude.” The box was on the kitchen table where I’d left it last night, still in its tote bag. I grabbed it, and we were on our way.

The walk to Corette’s bridal shop got us there a few minutes before nine. It was a cute store. What I could see of it. The words Closed for Restocking had been painted on the paper covering the display windows. I felt bad. That lie was my doing. Inadvertent, but still my doing. Despite what Birdie had said about Corette, I couldn’t help but feel that the woman would blame me a little.

Birdie knocked on the glass door, then turned to me and said, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Do what you’re doing. What you’re thinking. You’re making yourself feel bad about this, and it’s not your fault. Letting that imp out wasn’t purposeful. It was an accident.”

“I know, but—”

“No,” she said firmly. “It’s fine to be sorry but another to let the guilt be a millstone about your pretty neck.” She gave me a very motherly look. “Things happen. More so in this town.”

The door opened to reveal a lovely older woman in a trim periwinkle suit and pearls. “Birdie, Miss Frost. Do come in.”

The shop’s interior was just as I’d imagined a bridal shop should look. Pretty pastels, crystal chandeliers and soft lighting. The black dresses were so out of place it almost hurt to look at them. Like a shiner on a beauty queen.

I sighed as Corette locked the door behind us.

Birdie grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. She had a very respectable grip. It sure got my attention. “Corette, this is Princess Jayne.”

Corette curtseyed. “Your Highness.”

“Oh, wow, no need for that.” I almost rolled my eyes at Birdie and her princess business. “Please, just call me Jayne. I’m sorry about your shop. And thank you so much for the cover story about the signs being reversed. That was so nice of you.”

“This is Nocturne Falls, my dear.” Her smile was warm and welcoming. “Things happen. Granted, those things aren’t always this drastic, but we learn to deal with such occurrences. And we watch out for each other.” Corette clasped her hands in front of her. “Now, let’s see what we can do about getting this magic back in its box, shall we? Come into my office.”

Birdie and I followed her back and settled into the chairs in front of her desk. I took the box out and placed it in front of Corette.

She examined it as I told her what I’d recently found out. “It held a chaos imp and was intended for one of Francine Gresham’s clients.”

“Sentient magic,” Corette answered. She shook her head. “Often considered a gray area for most witches. And sometimes, darker than that.”

“Meaning?”

She pursed her lips. “Sentient magic is anything that can think for itself. Of course, thinking is a broad term. Most imps don’t process much thought beyond what havoc they can wreak and where to get the energy they need. They’re part of the jinn family and within that family are various levels of creatures. Genies being the most advanced.”

Like Imari. “Where do imps fall in those levels?”

“Closer to the bottom of that list. Which is beneficial in our case. As I said, they’re not deep thinkers and, with some skill, should be relatively easy to catch. Well, perhaps easy isn’t the right word, but it did end up in this box at some point, didn’t it? Recapturing it won’t be a walk in the park, but it’s definitely doable.”

“So what do you suggest?”

She frowned apologetically. “Nothing immediately. Because this is gray magic, it’s not something I’m very familiar with. I’m sure you have gifts that could easily allow you to circumvent certain laws, but doing so would be wrong. Therefore, you don’t. Which means you understand what’s possible, but most likely not how to put such things into practice.”

I tried to keep my expression neutral, but thoughts of my previous breaking-and-entering escapades popped into my head.

She continued. “For me, that means while I know about gray and black magic, I don’t practice it, so I’m not well versed in the peculiarities of it. I’ll have to do some research.”

Birdie sighed. “I guess we’ll have to come back.”

Corette held up a finger. “Give me a moment.” She moved the box toward the edge of the desk, then took out a key, unlocked a drawer in a cabinet behind her and, with some effort, removed a large book bound in scarred leather and adorned with unusual gold markings and metal corners. A title was scrolled across the front, but it seemed to be Latin and in that fancy script, so I couldn’t read it upside down.

She placed the book carefully in the space she’d cleared and gave it a little pat. “One of my daughters returned this grimoire to me yesterday thinking it might contain something that would help me restore my dresses to their rightful color. Unfortunately, not all of the imp’s spells can be undone as easily as lifting a fire truck off of a building.”

“Oh, did you help with that? Thank you so much. Cooper was so upset by that. Cooper Sullivan, that is. He’s a fireman. And an old friend. He’s a summer elf.” And I was rambling. I smiled. “Sorry. You were saying?”

Her mouth bent in an understanding way. “Is Cooper also your beau?”

“My—oh no. Well. Not exactly. It’s complicated.”

Her grin widened. “Love often is.”

Love? Was she snowing me? I shook my head. “I wouldn’t say it’s love.”

She just nodded. “When you’re ready for a wedding dress, let me know. I would be honored to assist you with that. If your dress isn’t already chosen, of course. I know things can be different with royalty.”

“No, I don’t have a dress yet. And I think it’s going to be a while before I need one.” A long while. Like years. Wow. Talk about changing the conversation. “If we could go back to the imp problem…”

“Of course.” She opened the book and began turning pages. “If you’ll just give me a moment.”

I squinted at the book, then glanced at Birdie and frowned. Birdie frowned back and shrugged. I couldn’t keep quiet. “Pardon me for saying anything, Corette, but those pages look blank to me. Is that some kind of spell doing that?”

Corette glanced up, amusement in her gaze. “Very good. Yes, it’s a protection spell, meant to keep our secrets from the uninitiated.”

“Nicely done.” I nodded and sat back to wait. Protective magic was what kept the North Pole hidden from humans. And it kept my uncle safe on Christmas Eve. If anyone could appreciate protective magic, it was me.

After a few minutes of flipping through the book and making small sounds of consternation, she stopped at a page and tapped it. “This mentions imps briefly, but it’s mostly about how to avoid accidentally summoning one since that spell is very similar to another spell used to entice ladybugs and fireflies into one’s yard.”

My brows lifted. “Is that done very often? Calling ladybugs and fireflies?”

Corette gave a little shrug. “For green witches, like my daughter Marigold, yes, I imagine it would be.”

“Does it say anything else about imps?”

“Let me read a little further.” She went quiet for a few moments as her finger underlined words I couldn’t see. “Mostly it says that they’re attracted to the sugar used in the insect spell. It seems sugar is their main source of energy.”

It was kind of mine, too. “So…maybe I could put sugar in the box and the imp would come back?”

She loosened the ribbon attached to the book’s spine and laid it over the page before closing the book. “I don’t think it will be that easy, but it’s worth a shot.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” I picked up the box and put it back in the tote bag. “Any thoughts on how to do this? Should I really just put sugar in the box?”

Birdie piped up. “You’ll probably need to leave the window open.”

Corette nodded. “Could be. Was your window open when the lid got knocked off?”

I tried to remember. “No. But I opened it right after it happened. Spider, my cat, started talking because of the imp and when I first heard his voice, I pushed the window up to see if someone was fooling around on the fire escape.”

“That’s how the imp got out of your apartment, then,” Corette said. “And you didn’t see anything?”

“Nothing other than the green stuff left inside.”

“So the imp can become invisible. Or perhaps that’s its natural state.” Corette peered into the distance, clearly thinking something over. Then she looked at me again. “I may not be able to counteract all of its magic, but I believe I can come up with a spell to make it permanently visible. I’ll need a sample of the residue in the box, if that’s all right with you.”

I took the box out again and handed it over. “Absolutely.”

She took the lid off, then used a bone letter opener from her pen cup to scrape a bit of the green stuff onto a sheet of paper. She folded the paper neatly and tucked it into her handbag. “That ought to do.”

“You sure that’s enough?”

“Yes.” She put the lid back on and handed the box to me. “Tonight, leave your window open. Doesn’t have to be much, a half inch should be plenty. I have a feeling an imp such as this could slip through a much smaller opening. Put a small dish of sugar in the box. A thimble would work.”

“How about a bottle cap?”

“Perfect. Then, first thing in the morning, if the sugar’s gone, even if you don’t see anything in the box, close the lid carefully and quietly.”

“Why do I have to wait until tonight?”

“You don’t, but I think that’s your best chance. Imps are mostly nocturnal. And according to the grimoire, the imp should sleep for a bit after feeding so when you put the lid on, be careful not to wake it. Just remember that even if you don’t see it in the box, with its ability to be invisible, it could very well be in there.”

“But if it’s invisible, how will I know if I’ve caught it?”

She smiled. “Bring the box back to me. Or I’ll come to you. Either way, I’ll be able to tell. Any witch would. The presence of that much magic would be hard to ignore.”

A thought popped into my head. “Do you think Francine’s client could be a witch? Maybe one not powerful enough to summon an imp on her own but someone who has a need for that kind of magic?”

Corette tipped her head. “It’s possible, but as I mentioned, imps are gray magic at best. We don’t allow dabbling in such arts in our coven, so if the imp was for someone local, they certainly aren’t going to talk about it. However, it’s a possibility. I’ll ask around and see what I can find out.”

“That would be great. I’ll give you my number.” I fished out a business card from my purse and handed it over.

“And I’ll give you mine.” Corette took my card, then lifted one of the shop’s from the holder on her desk and offered it in exchange. “Call me anytime, night or day.”

I took the card. “Likewise. And thank you. That’s very kind of you. And I appreciate your time. Which reminds me that I need to get back to work.”

“I imagine we all do.” She stood and extended her hand. “We’re all in this together, Jayne. Don’t forget that.”

Birdie and I got to our feet, and I took Corette’s hand. “I’m glad to hear that, because this imp stuff is so not my area.”

“Well, Birdie was right to bring you here.” She walked us to the door and unlocked it. “If all goes well, I’ll be talking to you soon.”