Witch Is The New Black (21 page)

Eddie smiled at the memory. The same smile he used to give her when he recalled something pleasant. “Marie gave you the gift of life, totally unbeknownst to your mother and father. She popped into the hospital one night under the guise of a visit and gave you her blood magic—she loved your mother that much. The blood magic saved you from certain death, Bernie. But it also made you very valuable to the not-so-nice people in our world.”

Her head spun and her arms ached as she tried not to strain against the chains for fear of setting them off. “So my parents really didn’t know I was a witch? Or half witch? Or whatever the hell I am?”

“A witch with
blood magic
, pretty girl. And I thought they knew. Come to find out much, much later, they had no clue. I think Marie’s plan must have been to confess to them later on in your life. Maybe when you turned thirteen, when all good witches really begin to come into their own? So she could help you acclimate. Who knows? But if I knew Marie, and I did, she’d never let you stumble around the way you did for almost twenty years, not knowing who you’d become. Of course, I’m only guessing at what her intent was. She died long before she had the chance to tell your parents, or anyone. In fact, she died only a few days after your miraculous recovery.”

Bernie’s heart began to throb painfully in her chest, pushing against her ribs until she thought she’d pass out. Her breathing sped up.

Closing her eyes, she asked the dreaded question. “How do you know this? How do you know all about me and Marie and my parents?”

“Because I was there, Bernie.”

“There?”

“Uh-huh. I was Marie’s lover at the time.”

She’d slept with someone who’d slept with her mother’s best friend? Gak.

Process, Bernie. Process this information quick and figure this out!

“You knew my mother and father?”

Eddie finally grinned, his face, so oddly pale, lighting up. “I did. We barbecued, we played board games; Marie and I did all the things boring humans do as couples. Nice people, your parents. But I was just passing the time with Marie. No serious intentions. I had no clue she possessed blood magic until I caught her saving you—with that damn book.”

“What happened to Marie, Eddie? How did she die?” she almost screamed, hearing the rising panic in her voice.

Eddie sighed with what sounded like regret. “What a mess that was. Sometimes impulsivity and my endless rage at being the butt of every warlock joke known to man can be my curse.”

Maybe it was because she’d been in the dark for so long or maybe she was just a glutton for punishment, but somehow, the devil was all up in her details. “How did she die, Eddie?” she repeated through clenched teeth.

“The same way your parents did. At my hand.”

Her panic rose to a level she almost couldn’t keep in check—but the good news was, she’d finally figured out where she was.

Wine
—there was a rack of it in the corner.

She was in Ridge’s storm cellar.

Chapter 14

“
W
ine!
” Fee yelped, hopping onto a stack of boxes. “I just heard my B! I don’t know what the hell it means, or how it relates to her, but she’s thinking about wine!”

Ridge stopped dead, fighting the rising tide of panic. “
Where
is she Fee?”

Fee swatted his tail, his ears twitching. “It’s not clear yet! She’s all damn wonky in her head right now. I’m trying to get inside her damn brain, but she’s such a mixed-up mess I can’t nudge my way in for very long.”

Ridge removed his Stetson and ran his hand over his head, taking a deep breath as he leaned against the wall of the large storage unit where Bernie’s parents’ things were located. Thank God, she was still alive. If she was thinking wine, she was still alive.

Please stay alive.

Winnie and the seniors were tearing through box after box, searching for anything that might help them to understand Fate’s vision, looking at things with witch eyes instead of the eyes of an innocent, as Bernie had been when she’d packed everything away.

Gus and Flora worked side by side, poring over old magazines, shaking them out, while Glenda-Jo flipped furiously though tattered scrapbooks. Clive picked through boxes of Tupperware and kitchen sundries with Greta’s help.

Calla and Daphne broke a lock on a filing cabinet, tearing out one file after another.

The moment they’d realized Bernie was missing, they’d banded together and searched every corner of Paris until they’d found the Pacer, parked right off of Pecked Hen Lane.

Jacques the GPS, still panicked, frantically explained that someone named Doris had kidnapped her, and then Winnie made the decision to take matters into her own hands by zapping them all here to the storage unit.

Who the hell was Doris and what did she want with Bernie?

Calla had hacked into Bernie’s bank account after checking the cache on Winnie’s laptop, and tracked payments she’d made via an account labeled “Mom and Dad”. An account Baba Yaga had frozen when Bernie had entered prison, allowing only payments for the storage unit to clear.

His hand reached for another box, tearing it open and silently praying they found something—anything—that would lead them to Bernie.

Clive jumped up from a corner of the unit where he sat on a beach chair, parsing through some old Tupperware. The box fell to the storage room floor, spilling the plastic containers. “Hold that damn scrapbook up again, Glenda-Jo!” he demanded gruffly.

Glenda-Jo stopped what she was doing and lifted the worn brown-vinyl book to show Clive.

“I’ll be damned!” he shouted.

“What?” Ridge pinned Clive with his stare.

“That picture…” He dug his reading glasses from the pocket of his plaid shirt and looked closer. “That’s Marie Haversham! Ooo-wee, she was a hot number back in the day. Heard through the grapevine she was dead though.”

Ridge grabbed the scrapbook from Glenda-Jo and looked at the woman posing with someone he assumed was Bernie’s mother. They had their arms around each other at a lake, the sun glistening off the water and their eyes lit up from wide smiles.

Bernie hadn’t lied when she’d said she was her mom’s spitting image. Beneath the photo, words cut from a newspaper or some sort of article read, “Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone, but nevertheless, still my own.”

“You know her, Clive? She’s a witch?”

“Damn right, I do, Ridgie-boy. We used to paint the town red. She sure could drink—like a damn fish, that woman. Good, good soul, she was.”

Time was ticking away, along with the minutes of his possible future with Bernie. “What does she have to do with Bernie’s mother?”

Winnie snapped her fingers, making a heavy book appear. She set it on top of an old dresser and began flipping pages. “Marie Haversham. Here it is! Coven of The Blood. Known for their ability to change forms.”

Flora’s head snapped upward, her sharp eyes zeroing in on the book. “Blood magic witches are shifters! Seven hells, how did I miss that?” She pressed a hand to her temple and bit her lip.

“But what does that mean for Bernie now, Flora?” Ridge asked, fighting his soaring frustration.

Flora slapped her thigh. “Didn’t Fate say something about Bernie sick in the hospital and blood?”

Winnie’s mouth fell open; clearly she was on to something he was missing. “Oh my God, Ridge. If Marie was Bernie’s mother’s friend, and she was a blood witch, she must have saved Bernie’s life!”

Then it all fell into place. Marie Haversham had spared Bernie with her blood magic—going against every white witch law known to their kind, because she’d turned a human into an immortal in order to save her. Blood witches were a rare, often hunted breed of witch.

And whoever had Bernie wanted her blood magic.

Which meant…

“
Wine!”
Fee yelped again. “Wait…” he murmured. “Damn it, B-Bop, stop panicking enough to let me into your head!”

Ridge held his breath for what felt like hours until Fee asked, “Where the hell is there wine in Paris? Wait—damp. It’s damp and dark and there’s expensive wine.” He paused altogether now, as though he were listening intently to something they couldn’t hear.

It was all Ridge could do not to shake the answer out of Fee while his tail swished and his tiara trembled atop his black head.

“Witches?” Fee asked.

“What?” Winnie yelped.

“Who the hell is Finn?”

Like a bolt of lightning, Ridge knew where Bernie was. “My storm cellar!” he yelled, snapping his fingers and disappearing.

* * * *

“
You
killed my parents? You son of a bitch!” She fought to stay alert, stay focused on Eddie.

“Collateral damage, I’m afraid, Bernie. I had to find that book. The time was approaching when you’d come into your own special brand of magic, and I couldn’t finish what I’d started if I didn’t have the book.”

The book. The book. The book. “Why did Marie have this book?”

Eddie’s face remained calm, almost passive, as her hysteria swelled upward. “The book in question is given to the most powerful witch in the Blood Coven for safekeeping. The blood witch who guards the book is, at all costs, to watch over it in order to ensure no one uses the book for ill gain. Who would have thought gentle, kind Marie was the reigning blood witch? But when Marie saved you, she used her blood magic and a spell she recited from the book. I saw all this merely by accident, of course.”

“Which begs the question, why didn’t you find out where the damn book was before you killed her, Genius?”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow. “Remember I mentioned my impulsivity? Things went too far that night with Marie and I rather lost control…Before I knew it, she was dead. But I learned from my mistakes.”

“And why would you think my parents had the book?” God, just saying the words tore at her heart.

“It was a last desperate guess after searching for it for decades. Never in a million years would I have considered Marie would actually leave the whereabouts of that book with humans. But then it occurred to me that maybe, by some crazy fluke, they might have some information about where she kept her personal affects. By that time, I’d already broken into your apartment and come up dry. The next logical choice was your parents’ place. I would have left well enough alone, you know. But they came home while I was prowling through their house. I couldn’t leave them alive as witnesses when they’d caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. But I left them nice and comfy in their bed. You understand my dilemma, right?”

A sharp wave of disgust rushed through her, making her clench her teeth.

“Of course, that was all before I realized you knew nothing about your being a witch, and that’s how I came to the conclusion Marie never told your parents what she’d done.”

This was diabolical. “So you only asked me out because of this book…”

Eddie gave her a look of apology, his eyes searching hers. “I’m such a cad. I ended up having to do everything backward because of that damn book. So, I courted you, thinking maybe you’d hidden the book somewhere. Or maybe there was some small hint about its location that you kept trapped in that bungled little brain of yours. Boy, was I wrong.”

Jesus, she felt like a complete idiot. All the messes she’d been in, every disaster she’d wreaked, and Eddie knew exactly what was happening to her the entire time.

“My life was such a mess for so long…” she murmured, regretting the words the moment they left her mouth.

He barked a laugh, the first sign of true animation on his face. “That’s an understatement. You were a disaster. As you bumbled your way around, I figured I already had half the equation on lockdown—meaning you—and finding the book was just a matter of time. For as long as it took, I’d have dangled you along.”

And then a thought occurred to her. “How
did
you finally find the book, anyway?”

“Ahh, that’s where Doris comes in; she’s an amazing private detective—an unsuspecting human, looking at this case of the mysteriously missing book with human eyes and human resources. Naturally, being witches, everyone was sure Marie had hidden the book on top of Mt. Fuji or someplace equally exotic. Interestingly enough, Marie’s method was far less complex than any of us ever guessed.”

The bank. Marie had hidden the book in a place most witches wouldn’t consider worthy of looking. “You mean like hiding the book in an obvious place?”

Eddie winked. “You got it. It triggered the memory of a conversation I’d had with her once about hiding her prized possessions in a human world. The rest was easy. Finding old bank records was a breeze once I found Doris.”

“How did you get her to go along with something like this?”

“The same way I got you into my bed, Bernie.
My charm
. What I lack in powers I make up for in charisma. I just promised her we’d spend the rest of our lives together. Easy-peasy.”

His matter-of-fact answer made her stomach roll again. But then her eyes flitted about the room in panic. “
Where is Doris
?”

Eddie snapped his fingers, illuminating the ceiling of the storm cellar. “There,” he replied, as if she’d asked him where something as mundane as the salt was.

Doris was pinned to said ceiling, her mouth literally sewn shut, her limbs clamped with iron cuffs, but thankfully she appeared to be unconscious.

“Forget her. She’s useless. I sent her in on bingo night and she blew that attempt to nab you by turning tail and running over a little devastation spell. I’ll handle her when the time comes.”

Bernie scrunched her eyes shut and forced the image of Doris from her mind. She swallowed hard, fighting the next wave of hysteria. “Didn’t anyone
miss
this book, if it’s so damned important?”

“Oh definitely. It became one of the great unsolved mysteries in our world. It’s a little like the Holy Grail in the human world. I have to admit, knowing who the next keeper of the book was made it very difficult to stay out of all the barroom speculation about where it could be. No one would have listened, I suppose, me being from a weak line of witches. Still, I wanted bragging rights. I wanted everyone to know that
I
knew who the most powerful blood witch was, but you know how that goes. Sometimes it’s better to be smug on the inside.” He circled his chest and smiled.