Evelina and the Reef Hag Read online

  She sucked in a sharp gasp.

  Leviticus Wilkes.

  Frankie’s trainer.

  This couldn’t be good.

  No doubt he was here with some dire warning—stay away from his prodigy or else.

  She’d been down this road before. It was dank and dirty—a trail she’d rather not travel again—especially tonight. She was supposed to be having fun.

  She made a sharp right.

  The last thing she wanted was some pointless confrontation. Did he really think he could make Frankie Holler do something he didn’t want to? She hadn’t known Frankie long, but even she realized how bull-headed and stubborn he could be.

  What made Wilkes believe she had any influence over what Frankie did or didn’t do? Frankie was a law onto himself. Nothing would change that.

  But then again, neither would running from Wilkes. He was a Time Keeper’s trainer, for God’s sake! What was the point?

  Evelina did an about face.

  Not such a great plan.

  As it turned out, she collided with the foot of someone heading south.

  She grabbed the post of an awning to keep upright, coming nose to nose with Psycho Sally.

  Evelina’s pulse raced.

  Crap!

  Sally interrupted her reading to clamp an icy hand around Evelina’s arm to steady her.

  Evelina came upright fast.

  She gulped in air, attempting to catch her breath. “Sorry!” she squeaked out between rasps. “Are you alright?”

  Sally cracked a slow smile, turning her eyes to pale slits. “No harm done.” She sliced a glance at the chintz cup in her hand. “It’s fortunate I’m reading the leaves and not the tea.”

  Her customer, a young man with curly black hair, held up both hands and grinned. “I’m good.”

  Evelina didn’t wait to hear more.

  She continued to squeeze her way through the crowd, up the pier, away from the riot of music and laughter.

  She glanced over her shoulder when her feet hit the sand.

  Leviticus Wilkes was nowhere in sight.

  She turned back around.

  And there he was, all tall dark and foreboding, black duster flapping in the wind, blue eyes turned to midnight.

  Damn!

  “Alright.” She heaved a sigh of surrender. “What do you want?”

  His dark gaze locked onto her with steady concentration for a long moment before he said in a deep baritone, “I’m here to deliver a message.”

  “Clearly.” It was difficult to control her annoyance. “And what would that be?” As if she couldn’t guess.

  “Frankie’s parents would like to meet you.”

  “What?”

  Alright.

  So she couldn’t have guessed.

  It took a moment to get her brain working again. “Why?”

  “Why, indeed,” Wilkes bit out. “I have expressly advised against it, but they believe they can reason with you. I have advised them you are an inexperienced novice, but they insist on giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

  Evelina’s blood rose. “Well, that was rude.” She pushed down her annoyance and did her best to remain calm. “But apparently you have no social skills, so I’ll let it go.” Hopefully she could trust him to pass on a message. “Tell Mr. and Mrs. Holler that there is no need for us to meet. There’s nothing between Frankie and I. So they can stop worrying.”

  “They want what’s best for their son,” Wilkes said through tight lips. “They have high hopes for him, as do I.”

  “Does he know that you’re here?”

  “He won’t be surprised, if that’s what you mean.” Wilkes flashed a tight smile. “He knows what’s expected of him. Traditions are there for a reason—to protect the bloodline.”

  “Really? I’m curious as to how that all works. I mean with all this interference how do Time Keepers get happily married and reproduce? Where do all the little Time Keepers come from?”

  “Time Keepers do not marry for love,” he said in clipped tones. “They are matched—a domestic arrangement of sorts that does not interfere with their duties. Understand?”

  She understood alright.

  Frankie was engaged.

  The news hit her like a sledge hammer in the chest.

  “Wow,” was all she could manage to utter.

  How cold was that?

  A flicker of something akin to remorse altered Wilkes’ features before they closed again. “His mate was chosen at birth. He is betrothed.”

  “Mate?” Her belly twisted. “Is that what you call her?”

  “There is a contract in place.” Wilkes bit out each word distinctly. “It cannot be broken.”

  Evelina blinked back at him, hardly hearing what he said.

  “I’ll deliver your message,” Wilkes said.

  Then...

  Poof!

  He was gone.

  Evelina stared at the spot he’d been, trying to swallow what he said.

  Frankie was engaged?

  Why hadn’t he told her?

  The whole thing was a bit weird, but at least Frankie’s parents cared about him—in a twisted, control freak sort of way. She couldn’t fault them for that. Although, driving him into a lather wasn’t exactly model parenting, either was forcing him down the aisle with a stranger.

  Yet, she’d never heard him complain. Maybe it was his nature to run through life full tilt. Maybe he hadn’t told her about the engagement because he hadn’t agreed. If he had he would have certainly told her.

  Wouldn’t he?

  Maybe it was just a big misunderstanding.

  His parents were tenacious. She’d give them that. At least he had parents. Luckily, she still had Grammy Crimm—in a way. She couldn’t touch her or hug her, but she still had their Cosmic Calls every month.

  Evelina lifted her hand to touch the black pearl ring on the chain around her neck.

  But there was nothing there.

  Her heart stopped.

  It was gone.

  She searched her neck and throat in disbelief.

  She retraced her steps, covering every inch of the ground.

  Where could it be?

  Her belly twisted.

  She had to find it!

  It was the only way she could talk to Grammy Crimm.

  She went cold.

  Her head began to swim.

  It felt as though she was losing her all over again.

  No! No! No!

  This couldn’t be!

  She needed that ring!

  ***

  The hollow echo of voices bounced along the night breeze. Vendors slid bolts and clicked locks, closing up shop in the Old City. The scent of roasted pecans and hot peppers followed Evelina down the brick-lined street.

  She halted in front of the tattoo parlor, pressing her nose to the cool glass of the window. The place was as dark as a black hole. She couldn’t see a thing. The glare from the bronze street lamp above didn’t help.

  Damn!

  She needed to find Psycho Sally.

  She hunkered down, cupping her hands around her eyes to get a better look.

  Nothing but darkness—not even a shadow.

  The splinter of breaking glass startled her.

  She stumbled back.

  A hand clamped down on her arm.

  Her heart leapt to her throat.

  She spun round.

  Frankie.

  Thank God!

  His golden hair glowed like a halo under the street lamp. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “Looking for my ring,” she rasped, coming to her feet. “I lost it near Psycho Sally’s tent. I thought maybe she picked it up. But when I realized it was gone, she’d already packed up and left. So, I came here.”

  “You should have told me.” He looked over his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have come alone!”

  “I couldn’t tell you?” she whispered fiercely. “Because I didn’t know where you were.”

&n
bsp; “Right.” He grinned. “Sorry. I meant to make it to the pier, but Cliff and I got held up.”

  Not a complete explanation, but he was never too good at those. “What are you doing here, Frankie?”

  “Following a lead.”

  “Right.” Something else he hadn’t bothered to share. It was difficult to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “Another top secret Time Keeper mystery I guess.”

  “Something like that.”

  The sound of running feet stopped her from smiling back. “Shhh!” Evelina put a finger to her lips. “Did you hear that?”

  The pad of heavy feet grew louder.

  “Someone’s coming.” Frankie yanked her around the corner of the building.

  The footfalls grew closer, accompanied by a great deal of panting.

  “Shut up!” She heard a tenor voice say. It sounded like Donny.

  What was the Dirty Diaper Gang doing here? It couldn’t be good, whatever it was. Wherever they went, trouble followed.

  Ronny knocked on the door.

  “What are you doing here?” It sounded like Psycho Sally. “I told you never to come here.”

  “We have a message for you,” Ronny said.

  “Hey! What was that?”

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Who’s there?”

  “Time to go.” Frankie clamped his hands around Evelina’s waist. “Hang on.”

  No sooner had she lifted her arms around his neck did her feet leave the ground. They rose up and up and up, until the city was miles below. Evelina’s head grew dizzy. Her limbs quivered. A faint giddiness encompassed every molecule of her flesh.

  Flying was the best part of being a witch.

  If she never learned anything else it was worth it to experience this.

  Joy bubbled in her veins.

  With the warmth of Frankie against her, the wind on her face, and the stars all around, her spirit soared.

  She needed to learn how to fly.

  Soon.

  They came down like a rocket sucked to the Earth, landing on a deserted street not far from where the dune buggy was parked.

  “How do you do that?” She gasped as the wind settled around them. She suspected she sounded naive and awestruck, but she couldn’t help it. It was amazing! “How do you fly? I need to know.”

  “You’ll learn soon enough.” He chuckled. “It comes as you slowly gain your powers.”

  Evelina groaned.

  More smoke and mirrors.

  Apparently witchcraft wasn’t an exact science. In fact, most of it was down- right frustrating. Everything seemed to hinge on some mysterious innate skills, that you might discover or you might not. She wanted to know now, not when she was so long in the tooth she croaked from a heart attack trying.

  “When did you learn?”

  “Training begins when you’re an apprentice.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “But witches master the skill at different times. It’s best to learn from an expert.”

  “What about the popping thing?”

  He raised a quizzical brow.

  “You know, when you just appear out of thin air. Now we see you—now we don’t.”

  He flashed a heart-stopping smile, causing her belly to flutter. “You’re not ready for that yet.”

  “Why not?” She wasn’t giving up that easy. “Who taught you?”

  “Leviticus Wilkes. It’s a bit different for Time Keepers.”

  Her recent meeting with Wilkes flashed through her brain. “So I hear.”

  Frankie was betrothed.

  He just hadn’t bothered to tell her.

  “What does that mean?” He sent her a queer look.

  “Nothing.” She shrugged away, disentangling herself from his arms. “Not a thing.”

  “Are you sure? You’ve been acting weird all night. Are you angry or something?”

  Angry didn’t half begin to describe it, but there was no sense getting into it. What good would it do? “Nope. I’m good.” She forced a bright smile. On the other hand curiosity was driving her wild. “But… I was wondering, why you didn’t mention you were betrothed?”

  Frankie flashed a startled gaze, before his golden gaze became hooded again. “I thought you knew.”

  A painful lump formed in her throat. “Nope.” If she had, she’d have kept her distance, or at least tried to. “No. I didn’t.”

  “It’s just the way it is.” His voice turned flat and cold. “It’s tradition.”

  A pain squeezed her chest. So it was true. She nodded vaguely, like a plastic tiki doll bobbing on a dashboard. “I understand.” Through the fog of numbness she managed to say, “Look, I’d better go.”

  “Wait!” He reached for her hand.

  But she’d already turned away, saying over her shoulder, “Thanks for your help tonight.”

  Her limbs felt weighted and her mind cloudy as she trudged toward the dune buggy.

  She drove home to the little pink beach house in a daze.

  She was beat.

  She’d lost her precious black pearl ring.

  She’d flown up into the stars.

  Then her guts had been ripped out.

  It had been a long night.

  The door of the cottage flung wide, before Evelina could reach for the knob.

  “Just in time for some catnip tea!” Mrs. Segal crushed Evelina to her bosom before hustling her inside. Her cherry smile soon changed to a look of concern. “My! You look done in! I might need to dig up something stronger.”

  Udora slashed Evelina a sidelong glance as she crumbled dried leaves into the silver teapot. She spoke in a quiet voice, as though they were the only two in the room. “You’ll be alright in the morning.”

  ***

  “He’s here!”

  “Raskin Lipworth.”

  “Raskin Lipworth is here!”

  The cove was abuzz with the news. The whispers mingled with the rush of the waterfall. Every witch at Camp Wic-A-Muck wondered if they would be questioned next.

  “Oh my God!” Tally clutched Evelina’s arm. “Here he comes!”

  “Wow.” Abby exclaimed. “Looks like he means business.”

  He strode toward them, scattering the crowd like a belch of smoke through a rainbow.

  Evelina took a step back, avoiding the light of the firefly chandelier, hoping to melt into the jungle.

  The splash of the waterfall rushed in her ears.

  “Evelina Crimm?”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  “Raskin Lipworth.” He made a crisp bow. “I have a few questions for you.”

  “Sure,” she said as casually as possible, while being interrogated by a man who appeared sprung from a Dickens’ novel, complete with black frock coat and silver waistcoat. “What would you like to know?”

  “Everything.” His grey eyes flashed in his pale face, leaving the rest a shadow, from the tip of his glossy boots to the point of his widow’s peak. He flipped open a small legal pad then clicked his shiny pen. “I must know all that happened the night of Melvin Ruggles’ death.”

  “Okay.” She relayed the evening’s events with as much detail as she could, ending with, “That’s all I know.”

  “Hmm…” Lipworth’s cool gaze slid up and down her. “And you maintain you did not know him.”

  “No.”

  “Very well.” He sent her a hard look. “Don’t go too far, Crimm. I may need to question you again.”

  Evelina groaned.

  When things turned bad, they turned bad fast—everything went south.

  Well, he could question her all he liked. She didn’t know anything, though she was trying hard to find out. Best that he didn’t know that. Lipworth had the reputation of being a bit of a hard nose. He might not appreciate any interference in his investigation.

  Evelina breathed a sigh of relief when Lipworth turned to go. Then, she remembered something—his connection to her parents. He was the chief investigator then. He might know something.
/>   “Wait!” She reached out a hand to stall him.

  He turned abruptly, with a glare so fierce she quickly released her grip on his arm. “Yes?”

  “Sorry.” She took a step back. “But I was wondering if you knew my parents, Dylan and Sirena Crimm.”

  “I did.” His features turned grave. “They died under suspicious circumstances.”

  “Yes.” Evelina’s heart clutched, but she forced herself to ask, “I wondered what you could tell me about it?”

  “Nothing,” he said flatly. “It is an ongoing investigation. I am not permitted to speak of it.”

  “But you must know something? I’m their daughter, and you must be able to tell me something!”

  His features softened, as though her wail of desperation cracked through the ice around his heart, then his face closed again. Or had she imagined it?

  “I can tell you this,” he said in confidential tones. “If you don’t stay out of it, you’ll be next.”

  A shiver raced up her back. “What?” Was that a threat? “What do you mean?”

  “They know who you are,” he continued in a low voice. “And they know you’re curious, which makes you a threat.” His thin lips flattened. “They consider you dangerous.”

  “Good,” she said with false bravado. “Because I won’t stop until I have answers.”

  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of it. Let the professionals do their job.”

  “It’s been twelve years!” Her voice rose in frustration. “And no one seems to know anything about this black market spell ring!”

  “A very short time in witch years.” His tone turned patronizing. “Some day you’ll realize that.”

  What she realized as he strode away was, if she wanted answers she’d have to find them herself.

  At least she’d confirmed one thing—her parents were definitely investigating black market spells. That was something. She was on the right track.

  She just had to dig a little deeper.

  Despite Raskin Lipworth’s warning.

  And the cold chill running up her back.

  Chapter Eight

  Turns out practicing spells all night works up a powerful thirst.

  But, not much more.

  Evelina licked her dry lips, wishing she could say hours of instruction with their mentors in the clearing had sparked inspiration, but it hadn’t.

  Oh, she’d learned several impressive incantations, the trouble was she’d yet to master them. She had to succeed before the night was through.