OVERFALLS (The Merworld Water Wars, Book 2) (32 page)

Jex grinned and tilted his head. “That’s the Savior I like to see. Where’re we going?”

“Dress shop,” I said.

“Aw, naw, really? Should’ve known it’d be a boring, girly outing. I don’t do frills and ruffles unless I’m removing them,” said Jex.

I bet the dresses drop with a mere wink of his eye. I’ll never tell him I think that, though. “We’re going to the dress shop to look for a name. Those doll dresses were new, custom made, and matched the fabrics and designs I saw at Neva’s store last year. If we can find who ordered them, we might have The Dealer.”

“Stop yammering and let’s go lift some dresses, then,” said Jex.

“Really? Can we expect the innuendo all night?” I asked as we headed down the quiet, dark downtown towards the dress shop.

“Oh, I’d have to say probably absolutely,” he said. “I intend to work my rogue.”

“Kindly don’t elaborate on what that entails,” I groaned.

“Here we are,” said Airianna. “Shall I kick it down?”

“Uh, probably not a good idea to alert the whole town to our breaking and entering,” I said. “I brought a bobby pin.”

“Who needs a bobby pin when you have feathers?” Jex plucked a small feather from the middle part of his wing and swept it through the lock. The lock clicked and the door eased open with a quintessential scary creaking sound.

“God allows you to commit a crime?” asked Maile.

“Well, no. I’ll probably be dragged before the angel hand slapping committee. Don’t worry. Not my first time there. Won’t be my last. Go on in, Maile and I will keep watch.”

Meikle, Airianna, Ophelia, and I wandered into the store, our lumclaires lighting the way. The shop smelled musty with a twinge of raw fish stink; dark silhouettes of the many mannequins modeling their lifeless dresses created a strange, almost ghostly atmosphere.

“The register and receipts are back here,” said Airianna, already digging through an old receipt book.

Meikle stopped in the middle of the shop. “I’ll wait here.”

“You okay?” I asked.

“Not sure yet. Just hurry up.”

Ophelia and I ran around the counter to help Airianna flip through papers, notes, and anything that could lead us to the identity of The Dealer.

“Wait! Here! I think this is it,” said Ophelia. “It was buried under this stack of special orders.”

She handed me a blue slip of paper. “Special request. Five red suits. Seven red dresses. One blue dress. Doll size, fourteen inches tall. Total item count: Thirteen.” An odd scraping and swooshing sound distracted me.

“That’s it,” said Airianna. “Who ordered it?”

“Uh, Macallister’s Toy Shop,” I said. “Weren’t those mannequin heads turned the opposite direction when we came in here?”

Airianna bit her lip. “Dunno about the mannequins, but the toy store is across the street. The toymaker must have ordered the outfits on behalf of whoever bought the dolls from him.”

“We should go there, right?” said Ophelia. “Marina?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Did those dresses just move?”

“You guys about done back there?” said Meikle.

“Coming now. Why?” said Ophelia.

“Because I’m pretty sure a witch’s curse lurks in this store.”

“Crap. Let’s get outta here,” I said. Airianna, Ophelia, and I joined Meikle in the center of the store. “We’re going to the toy store.”

“No, we really aren’t,” said Meikle, stooping down.

“Oh, God, why?” asked Ophelia.

“Because…we’re about to be attacked.”

Meikle’s words seemed to awaken the curse as every dress in the shop sprang to life, smothering us with material, wrapping around our throats, and stabbing at our face and eyes with their hangers.

“Cover your eyes!” I screamed. “Meikle, get your witch on, will ya!”

“I am. Be patient,” she said, swirling her hand within her bag.

Peeling the skirt of a dress from Airianna’s neck, I said, “Patience is really not an option, Meeks.”

Ophelia tried to freeze the swarm of dresses, but it only slowed them for a blip.

“You can’t freeze a curse,” said Meikle. “Only a witch’s counter-curse can stop a witch’s curse.”

“You might want to think about countering the curse pretty much immediately,” I said as the group of mannequins methodically stepped out of the front window display; in their arms, they carried hot glue guns and aimed them at our heads.

“Think those glue guns are magically enhanced?” asked Ophelia.

Flowing like high-pressure water from a fireman’s hose, the mannequins fired streams of hot glue at our faces.

“Oh Dear God,” I cried, flinging my hands up, creating a gel shield to protect us.

“Um, it’s melting the shield! It’s melting the shield!” yelped Airianna.

“Meeks! Now would be good,” I said, barely missing a hanger to the eye.

Meikle popped up, holding her hands at her sides. “Watch this. The curse you cast cannot survive when one that’s greater doth arrive; to the stands from which you came with no one but yourself to blame, for losing to a witch with better game.”

The dresses returned to their places on walls or racks, while the hot glue gun-toting mannequins dropped their weapons and repositioned themselves in their window.

“You wrote a spell?” said Ophelia.

“That book the crazy doc gave me has helped up my technique to badass,” she said, smiling.

“Um, ‘losing to a witch with better game?’” I said, quoting her spell. “You’re getting massive, Meeks.”

Still smiling like a devil, she said cheekily, “I know.”

“I wonder who the witch is that cast the curse in the first place,” said Airianna. “There aren’t any other witches in Saxet Shores.”

“Unless they’re visiting for the Overfalls,” I said.

“Or Madame Helena,” said Meikle.

“You lot done yet?” shouted Jex in as hushed a voice as possible. We walked out of Neva’s dress shop, only to be stopped by Jex, who was horrified by the nasty cuts and bruises on our faces. “What the hell happened?”

“Dresses attacked, mannequins shot at us with hot glue guns…you know, your typical night in Saxet Shores,” I said.

“Good Christ,” said Jex. “Remind me never to pretend to do nasty things on a mannequin again.”

Ick. “How about I pretend you never did?”

“Works for me,” he said. “We’re done?”

“Nope. We’re off to the toy shop, over there,” I said, pointing directly across the street. Airianna moved my arm to aim it a bit more diagonally. “Uh, over
and
down there.”

“Aw, now, that’s more like it! Meikle can stay with Maile this time,” said Jex, spreading his wings. “I’m-a-goin’ to the toy shop.”

“Two things. First…seriously? And second, if the dresses were cursed, I have no doubt the toys will be, too. We’ll need Meeks,” I said, following Airianna into the street.

“Two answers. First…hell yes. A man never outgrows his train set and baseball glove, unless, of course, they’re raised on the video game tripe of today. And second…fine, Meeks goes in, Ophelia stays out.”

“Very okay with that,” said Ophelia. “I’ll take the air over a cursed store any day.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Maile, stopping halfway across the street.

From either end of the main street, two large groups of towering dark figures moved towards us, sandwiching us smack between them.

“This isn’t good,” I said. “Maile, can you see what they look like?”

“What you see is what I see,” she replied. “Tall, dark, and shadowy.”

I shook my head and shrugged. “Just once, why couldn’t we get tall, dark, and handsome? Or, here’s an idea, how about short, furry, and cuddly?”

“Keep dreaming,” said Meikle.

“At least it’s not fast, fanged, and fiery,” said Airianna.

“Yeah, yet,” I muttered.

“Aw, you know what those are? They’re Shadow Wearers. Haven’t slapped shadows with them in a long time,” said Jex, smiling. “They survive off consuming shadows. They’ll seek a person’s shadow, use it to strangle the owner, and then it’s ‘hello, pretty new shadow to wear!’”

He was way too enthusiastic. “Okay, but it’s a dark, moonless night on a lamp-less street. Whose shadow do they think they’re gonna get, exactly?”

“Ah, well, that’s the rub. They don’t need light to call a shadow. Look to your left sides, kiddies,” said Jex.

“Mother effer,” growled Meikle. “We have shadows.”

“Shadows that are not flat on the ground, are standing as tall as we are…and are turning to stare us down,” I said, racking my brain for an idea. “Ophelia, maybe freeze them?”

“Can’t freeze shadows,” said Jex in a singsong voice. He was far too calm for my liking, and it was pissing me off.

Watching the Shadow Wearers close in on us, I said, “Uh, okay, maybe a spell?”

“Can’t fight 'em with a cute little witch’s spell.”

“Hey…watch who you’re calling cute,” said Meikle.

“Okay, then maybe Maile could flash the beam, or I could encase us in a giant gel shield-bubble thing until we get into the toy shop.”

“They have a love affair with light and can move through your gel shield like crap through a baby bird.”

Stomping my foot, I yelled, “Well, exactly how do we defeat them?”

“Need a demon to fight 'em,” said Jex, the corners of his mouth fighting the urge to curl into a sarcastic smile.

“Well, isn’t that just fabulous. The one thing I left at home,” I said. “Here, Airi, take Troy’s phone, call my house, and have Polly get here immediately. Maybe I could buy us some time.”

“No time to buy, Savior,” said Jex. “You’re about to get the chokehold.”

“Wh—at?” My shadow had its hands around my throat; it squeezed so hard, I could see little sparks in the corners of my eyes. “Po—ll—s…”

“Like I said, no time. She’s not quick enough,” said Jex in such a cavalier manner, you would think he wanted me to die.

My friends all tried to attack my shadow, but they might as well have been trying to punch a ghost. Feeling my life start to lift from my weakening body, the fruitless attempts at breathing all but ceased, I wondered if heaven allowed a little one-on-one ass-whoopin’ time with Fate herself. I mean, this was a truly craptastic way to die—murdered by my own traitorous shadow. How completely lame!

“DO SOMETHING! SAVE HER!” shouted Airianna.

“Can’t. Only a demon can…ah, right on cue.” Jex grinned down the street at an airborne figure crashing through the first batch of Shadow Wearers like an angry, spinning bowling ball scattering a giant set of pins. “Give him a little light, Maile.”

When Maile’s beacon illuminated the flying figure, my heart soared: Troy. Just as my vision started to blur and my throat made those last strange sounds before life greeted finality, the hands around my neck vanished. Falling to my knees and peering down the other end of the street where Troy vanquished the remaining Shadow Wearers, I coughed and gasped for air.

“Are you okay?” asked Airianna, kneeling beside me, rubbing my back.

“Think so,” I wheezed, trying to clear my throat.

A sudden gust of cold air sent my hair flying straight back, and in that instant, Troy appeared by side. He didn’t look well. Sweat poured from his face, and his eyes kept shifting from caring to empty as he studied my face, almost begging his mind to recognize me. His whole body quivered. He was fighting his demon side.

“Troy…”

“You…okay?” he said, trying to force the demon back into submission.

“Thanks to you.” I placed his hand on my arm. “Squeeze my arm as much as it hurts.”

Troy’s trembling slowed, his eyes no longer showing signs of darkness within. “That’s like what I told you last New Year’s Eve, when you were stung by the squid.”

“And it worked, too, just like it’s working now.” I kissed him softly, gently wiping some of the sweat from his brow.

“See, then? No harm, no foul,” said Jex.

“You crazy son of a bitch!” Troy leaped from my side, jumped Jex, and threw him to the ground, choking him.

“H-ey. It—wasn’t…me,” Jex croaked.

Troy’s eyes started shifting again. “Troy, let him go. He’s telling the truth. This was all part of The Dealer’s cover-up in case we came snooping. The dress shop was even rigged with a witch’s curse. Jex may be an arrogant jackass, but he’s not an evil one. Come on.” I grabbed Troy’s arm, but he shoved me off; when he turned around to face me, I didn’t know him. “Troy. Come back to me. Please.”

Keeping his eyes glued to mine, he released Jex, helped him up, and pressed his palms against his temples. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh. No apologies. You did what you had to do to save us. Now, how would you like to go to the toy store?”

“Um, you really think I deserve a treat for going demon?”

“Oh, uh, not what I meant. But, now you mention it…I may have a more personalized treat in store for you.”

“Oh, for bleeding sake! We have to go to the bloody toy store to get a bloody name and hopefully find a bloody address,” said Jex, flapping his wings.

“Can we just do this toy shop thing already?” said Meikle.

“I have the door open.” Standing in the doorway of Macallister’s Toy Shop, waving a feather, was Airianna.

“You pluck one of my feathers, Airi?”

“Didn’t have to. When Troy lunged at you, one fell out. I just seized an opportunity.”

“Feathers falling out? At your angel age? Ouch.” Troy cocked his head, grimaced, and stole a wink at me.

“If my wings are caught up in an assault by a bloody demonic lunatic, then hell yes they’re going to fall out. Drungo,” said Jex, subtly checking his feather-thickness.

Ophelia and Maile took positions outside the toy shop while the rest of us went inside. Airianna and Meikle were already rifling through papers when we walked in. Macallister’s was an old-fashioned toymaker’s shop; every wooden soldier, toy train, model airplane, sweet-faced doll, and cuddly teddy bear was handmade. I may be a child of today, with its fantastic technology and gadgets, but there was a certain irreplaceable charm about yesteryear that made me wish I had lived during those simpler times.

“I’m loving this baby owlet,” I said coyly, cuddling a small baby owl with huge golden eyes. “Sometimes, I wish…”

Troy caressed my arm. “You’re not the only one wishing to be seven again.” From behind me, he “flew” a model airplane around my head, even making airplane noises.