All My Witches (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Book 5) Read online

  “That’s right,” Thistle enthused. “We want to go home, and we want to do it right now.”

  “Oh, but the story isn’t over.” Aunt Tillie’s eyes gleamed as she took a backward step toward the cabin. We’re nowhere near done.”

  “Where are you going?” Alarmed, I strode forward. The two twins moved into my path, blocking Aunt Tillie from view as she opened the cottage door.

  “If she goes inside we’ll lose her until we hit another scene,” Landon warned.

  “It’s too late,” I said. “We can’t get to her in time.”

  “We have to try.” Landon gripped my hand and broke into a run, dragging me forward. The evil twins tried to stop us, but Landon easily evaded them with a spin move straight off a football field.

  “I think we pinned down why he’s the leading man,” Sam said, his chest heaving as he struggled to keep up. “That was a nice move, man.”

  Landon was grim. “I do my best.” He shoved open the door and pushed his way inside, revealing an entirely new atmosphere. “Oh, I just knew it!”

  We definitely weren’t out of the woods yet. The new set was something else entirely.

  “Oh, this doesn’t look good,” Thistle complained. “She’s just messing with us now. There can be no other explanation.”

  How can you solve a crime shirtless? What kind of cop goes to a scene shirtless? Why is that dude always shirtless? If your answer is ‘because he’s hot,’ I think we’re going to have to break up. This is not proper crime scene etiquette.

  – Landon trying to understand soap opera crime-solving techniques

  Fourteen

  “Where are we now?”

  Landon looked over his shoulder to see if the cottage remained, but it was gone, replaced by a dark and grimy alley wall. Er, well, rather the sort of wall a soap opera pretended was dark and grimy. Alleys and docks, overall dark locations, never looked as they should in the real world when translated for the small soap screen. Apparently soap lovers could only accept so much grit.

  “I’m guessing we’re in an alley,” Clove offered sagely.

  Landon offered a withering expression. “Really? I never would’ve figured that out myself. Thank you so much for deducing that, Clove.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I grabbed Landon’s arm and dragged him to the right, pointing toward a clothesline stretching across the back corner as I attempted to distract him. Several items of clothing hung from it, and because Landon remained shirtless I figured he might want to cover up.

  “Good eye, sweetie.” Landon grabbed the nearest shirt. It was purple and silky. He looked a bit like a gigolo when he shrugged into it, but he seemed so relieved to cover his chest that I opted not to comment on the color – or texture – or the ridiculous flare of the collar. Thistle was another story entirely.

  “You look like a total tool.”

  Landon scowled. “I didn’t pick out the shirt. It’s not as if I have many options.”

  “Is that silk?” Sam stroked Landon’s chest, earning a glare for his efforts. “It’s … nice.”

  “He looks like a pimp,” Thistle argued.

  Landon shifted his eyes to me. “What do you think?”

  I wasn’t sure what to think. “I don’t know.” I ran my hand over his chest, resting it on top of his heart and smiling. “The color is nice on you. The silk is a bit much. I actually prefer the bare chest, but I can tell you’re starting to feel self-conscious. I don’t think it’s that bad.”

  Landon rested his hand on top of mine, keeping it where it was so I could feel the steady beat of his heart. “I like being shirtless just fine … when it’s you and me alone. Solving crimes and fighting enemies shirtless is just … not how I work.”

  “It’s how soap Landon works.”

  “Yes, well, I think Jericho is a moron.” Landon took me by surprise when he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “How are you holding up? We didn’t get a chance to talk about what happened while we were separated.”

  “Nothing much happened on our end. We talked to that loser Hutch. We went to the waterfall. We found a footprint. We went to the cabin. That’s it.”

  “That’s not nearly as bad as I imagined.” Landon swayed back and forth, his arms loose around me, the motion somehow soothing. “I was worried about you.”

  “Funnily enough, I wasn’t worried about you. I knew you’d be okay.”

  “Lila tried to kiss me. That’s pretty far from okay.”

  “Yet you survived. We’re together again.” I pressed the side of my head to his chest and briefly shut my eyes. “I’m tired. I know we’re really in our bed at The Overlook, sleeping, but I’m tired all the same.”

  “That’s because this is a busy world.” Landon stroked my hair. “How much longer do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

  “Until we reach the end of the story.”

  “And there’s no hope for reprieve, right? She won’t let us off early for good behavior, will she?”

  I chuckled, amused. “Have you ever known Aunt Tillie to give up before she gets the outcome she wants?”

  “No, but … I guess I was trying to delude myself that we would be out of this soon.”

  “I don’t believe we have terribly long left here, but I also don’t think we’re close to being done yet. She built a continuous story. You know darned well she’ll be the star when we get to the end.”

  “Yeah, I think we all know that.” Landon kissed the corner of my mouth and then released me. “Let’s see what fresh hell she’s stirred up for us next, huh?”

  I nodded and turned back, pursing my lips when I saw Thistle’s glare. “What?”

  “I can’t believe you guys are the leading couple,” Thistle complained. “Clove was right. You’re boring. That thing you guys just did? Yeah, it was boring.”

  I heaved out a sigh. “I’m more than willing to cede my leading lady title if it means Marcus will be the one getting slapped around from here on out. Maybe he’ll have his shirt ripped off for a change. How does that sound?”

  “I’m fine with it,” Thistle replied. “Marcus looks smoking hot without a shirt.”

  “Are you saying Landon doesn’t?”

  Thistle shrugged. “I just happen to think Marcus looks better … and I’ve seen both of them thanks to this little trip.”

  Now it was my turn to frown. “I’m pretty sure Landon looks better without his shirt on.”

  “Oh, thank you, sweetie,” Landon drawled. “I’m so glad you picked this to fight about and not my honor when Lila was throwing herself at me.”

  I ignored the dig. “Marcus is nice, but Landon is better.”

  Thistle’s eyes flashed with anger at the same moment the sky illuminated with faux lightning. Thistle and I turned away from each other at the same time, our potential fight forgotten as we stared at the sky.

  “Did you see that?” Thistle narrowed her eyes. “It’s like lightning except … it’s not.”

  “It’s a lightning effect,” Sam supplied. “I know because I’ve been considering doing similar things for the barge this upcoming season. I want to be able to simulate thunderstorms. I think the guests will really enjoy it.”

  “So it’s not really a storm,” Landon mused. “We’re not really outside, are we?” He lifted his head and stared at the black sky. There was no ceiling there, and yet it was obvious we were in an enclosed space of some sort. “How come we’re not outside?”

  “I told you when this first started that soap sets were minimal,” I reminded him. “That’s what we’re dealing with here.”

  “What else are we dealing with?” Thistle asked, turning to face an ornate door with a series of runes carved into the frame. “Look at these.”

  “What are they?” Landon moved close to me. “Do you know what those are?”

  I shrugged. “They look relatively familiar. I’m sure they’re from some book or another.”

  “Witch book?”

  “Wiccan, b
ut sure.” I flashed him a smile. “She put these symbols here to signify the shift in the story. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she picked runes to mark this door. It’s a warning of sorts.”

  “What kind of warning?”

  “We’re heading into a paranormal world when we open this door.”

  Landon stilled. “Isn’t the whole world paranormal?”

  It took me a moment to realize what he was getting at. “Yes … and no. Aunt Tillie is using magic to make us believe we’re in a different world where the rules of soap operas are key. The world itself is fairly normal, at least in the grand scheme of things.”

  “She’s saying that this isn’t a magic world,” Thistle added. “It’s not as if Aunt Tillie shoved us into a horror world where different kinds of magic might be at play. It’s not even a scientific world, so we can’t use Bay’s ridiculous amount of Star Trek knowledge.”

  I balked. “Hey! Star Trek rules.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Thistle rolled her eyes. “The most important thing is that this world has mostly followed real-world rules. Sure, people come back from the dead here and we have evil, more evil and most evil triplets, but the laws of life still hold true.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Landon prodded.

  “Not all soaps follow the same rules,” I replied. “Not all soaps are created equal.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that there were three soaps that created their own rules and featured paranormal creatures,” Clove supplied. “Dark Shadows was the original. It had an intricate vampire storyline.”

  “Are you telling me that we’ll be dealing with vampires in this scene?” Landon was incredulous. “Soap opera vampires?”

  I held my hands palms out and shrugged. “I really don’t know. Passions had a witch.”

  “And a doll that came to life, but that was altogether creepy,” Thistle said. “I don’t want this to turn into Passions. Dark Shadows is better.”

  “You said there were three supernatural shows,” Marcus prodded. “What’s the third?”

  “Port Charles.”

  “And what’s wrong with Port Charles? I can tell something is wrong by the looks on your faces.”

  “Port Charles was simply a really odd mixture of things,” I replied. “Vampires, vampire slayers, angels – other things. It was completely loopy and crazy. Plus, it was set in the same city as General Hospital, but the characters there never commented on the paranormal aspects being highlighted on Port Charles. It was simply … weird.”

  “Isn’t that the status quo for all soaps?”

  “Not like this.”

  “I don’t even want to see what’s on the other side of this door.” Landon rubbed his forehead. “I just know this is going to suck.”

  “Vampires suck,” I agreed, smirking when Thistle and Clove broke into giggles. “Shall we?” I gestured toward the door.

  “Let’s do this.” Landon put his hand on my lower back. “I can’t wait to see who rips my shirt off in this world. I hope it’s a witch.”

  “That sounds lovely,” I muttered.

  He lowered his mouth to my ear. “I hope it’s my witch.”

  I didn’t want to smile, but I couldn’t help myself. “I don’t think you’re going to get that lucky.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

  INSIDE WAS BETTER THAN outside, but only from a clinical perspective. It was supposed to look grimy, but instead it looked like a video game version of Dracula’s tomb.

  “Oh, well, this is lovely.” Landon grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to his side. “Is that a coffin?” He gestured toward the center of the room with his chin.

  I nodded. “Yup. A coffin with a moon roof to allow stardust to land on it.” I moved closer, but Landon wasn’t happy with my curiosity and pulled me back.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking inside.”

  “Are you joking?”

  “Does it look like I’m joking?”

  “Why would you possibly want to look inside of a coffin?” Landon challenged. “No good can come of that.”

  “If we don’t, we’ll never get out of here.”

  “She’s right.” Thistle moved ahead of us. “I’ll do it.”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Landon said after a beat. “It’s your turn to be the leading lady. That means you get to open the casket. We’ll stay right here and watch your back.”

  Thistle made a disgusted face. “Whatever.” She strolled to the edge of the coffin, looked around to make sure someone wasn’t about to jump out of the shadows and attack her, and tugged open the heavy lid. The figure inside threw me for a loop.

  “Chief Terry?” I broke free of Landon’s grip and hurried to the coffin, leaning forward when I saw the familiar face. “Is he … dead?”

  “It’s not real, Bay,” Landon reminded me, appearing at my elbow. “That’s not really Chief Terry.”

  “I know, but … .”

  Chief Terry, who had been still as granite moments before, flicked open his eyes and pinned me with an unreadable look. “Who are you?”

  His voice was chilling, as was the echo that filled the room.

  “Why does he echo, but we don’t?” Clove asked, looking around.

  “Because he’s a vampire, stupid,” Thistle chided. “Vampires echo.”

  “Since when?” Clove’s annoyance came out to play. “I don’t ever remember vampires echoing in movies and stuff. In fact, the vampires in Twilight didn’t echo.”

  “That’s because the vampires in Twilight weren’t real,” Thistle shot back. “They were weak little brooders who sparkled. Those aren’t vampires. They’re Las Vegas showgirls.”

  She had a point. “Chief Terry, what are you doing in there?” I peered over the coffin edge even though Landon kept trying to drag me back. “I don’t think you should be in there. That can’t be good for your back.”

  Chief Terry smiled, the expression slow and seductive. His fangs gleamed under the moonlight and made my stomach twist. Even though I knew it wasn’t real, I didn’t like it. “I am the king of the living dead. I don’t suffer … back pain.” He rolled to a sitting position, groaning as he rubbed his lower back. “See. I’m a king.”

  “You’re also wearing a cape.” Landon relaxed a bit when he saw Chief Terry’s outfit up close. “You look like Batman.”

  Chief Terry rolled his eyes. “I’m king of the living dead.”

  “Shouldn’t that be undead?” Thistle asked, fingering the cape. “Polyester, huh? Aunt Tillie should’ve spent a little more money on costumes.”

  “I have no idea who this Aunt Tillie you speak of is.”

  “Alexis Kane,” I supplied. “She’s supposed to be a big deal around these parts.”

  “Alexis Kane is the queen of everything,” Chief Terry explained. “She is not part of the living dead team. In fact, she tries to kill our kind. We’re at war.”

  “Of course you are.” Landon smiled as he patted Chief Terry’s head. “Mousse, huh? Your hair is a bit crispy.”

  “Of course it is,” Thistle said. “Vampires have to slick back their hair. It’s one of the rules.”

  “Edward Cullen didn’t,” Clove protested.

  “Don’t bring up that name again,” Thistle warned. “He’s not a real vampire.”

  “There’s no such thing as vampires,” Landon scoffed. “This is an Aunt Tillie thing. It’s kind of fun. You should stand up so we can see the full cape effect, Terry.”

  “We don’t know that vampires aren’t real,” Clove countered. “Just because we’ve never seen one doesn’t mean they’re not real.”

  Landon looked to me. “Tell her they’re not real.”

  “Well … .” I chewed my bottom lip. “She’s not technically wrong. We don’t know that vampires aren’t real.”

  “Come on.” Landon was annoyed. “You guys are just messing with me now.”

  “We’re not,” I
countered. “We’re … simply telling it like it is. We don’t know if vampires are real. We’ve gotten conflicting reports while growing up.”

  Landon glanced at Thistle. “Surely you don’t believe in vampires.”

  “I don’t know what I believe,” Thistle replied. “The thing is, I’ll bet you didn’t believe in witches a year and a half ago. How did that work out for you?”

  Landon balked. “That’s completely different.”

  “How?”

  “Because … well … because there’s a perfectly good reason for witches to exist,” Landon replied. “You guys are magical, but not dead or anything. Vampires are dead.”

  “Undead,” Sam said.

  “Living dead,” Chief Terry corrected. “We’re living dead. Zombies are undead. They have their own little part of the story.”

  My shoulders tensed. “This story?”

  Chief Terry’s smile was mischievous – and a bit evil. “Another story. You won’t get to play in that world today.”

  “Thank the Goddess for small favors,” Clove muttered.

  “As for me, I’m king of the vampires,” Chief Terry said. “You must do what I say.”

  “And what is that?” Landon wasn’t in the mood to mess around. “What must we do? Whatever it is, it had better be quick. I have a proper hangover to get to and it won’t happen in this world.”

  Chief Terry stared at him for a moment. “Do you really want to know?”

  “That’s why I asked.”

  “Well then … .” Chief Terry moved to climb out of the coffin, sweeping his arms out so the cape flowed around him. Instead of moving with grace and agility, he tripped over the cape as he tried to clear his escape and pitched forward. He hit the ground face first, groaning as his forehead smacked into the pavement. “Ow.”

  “I’m guessing that’s not how that was supposed to go,” Landon said dryly.

  “I will make you join my living dead army if you’re not careful,” Chief Terry warned. “I won’t give you a good job, either. I’ll make you a janitor or something. How do you like that?”