Tiger's Eye (21 page)

Thor was inspecting a pair of doggie goggles with a built-in camera. He cocked his head toward Sydney and waited for a response.

Derek said, “She’s Lolly’s great-niece.”

Sydney looked a bit mortified at that. He took a step back. “Oh. Okay, tell you what, little lady, since my best customer is your friend here and, um, Lolly is your relation, I’ll move you up on the list. I should have something by tomorrow. How’s that?”

“Thank you, Sydney.”

Derek slapped the doggie goggles along with a bandana on the counter for Thor and I paid for all the purchases, including Derek’s new spyglasses.

Thor stood a little taller as Derek slipped the goggles over his ears. If he had a spiked collar to complete the ensemble, the dog would have looked like a Hell’s Angel.

“Thor, say thank you to Uncle Derek.”

Derek was adjusting the bandana around Thor’s neck. He stuck his hand in the air and Thor met it with a high five.

We made a quick stop at the drugstore the next block up, where I ran in and bought two pregnancy tests and shoved them in my bag. I dropped Derek off at his apartment and headed toward the cottage. I changed quickly into jean shorts and a one-shoulder top, applied some fresh makeup, and brushed out my hair, partly to be ready to head to the Black Opal and partly so Fiona wouldn’t nag about my appearance.

I was ready then. Ready to become the woman I was born to be.

Chapter 27

“Dogs never bite me. Just humans.”

—Marilyn Monroe

I decided to leave Thor in the yard with a fresh bowl of water and a chewy bone. It had cooled down considerably and he enjoyed bird watching as much as they enjoyed riding him like a hippo.

The back door was unlocked so I let myself in and called to Birdie. No answer, but the door to the back stairs creaked open, inviting me in like a scene from a horror movie that makes you yell at the screen and want to shake the stupid girl who’s about to walk into an ambush.

Naturally, I passed through the threshold.

The stairs were dark, but I saw Lolly’s wedding dress hanging at the top on a coat rack and made a mental note to meet with the metal sculptor. I wondered if the aunts and Birdie knew that Jack’s cousin was living just outside of town. I hoped I could find some answers for her. Some peace.

I ducked my head into each of their rooms and found only Keesha, resting comfortably. I scratched her head and said, “See you tomorrow. Vet appointment. Don’t be late.”

I approached the hidden lair.

I spent many years in this house, but it wasn’t until a few months ago that Fiona led me to a hidden room behind the gilded gold painting of the Celtic goddess Danu. In her hand, she held an intricately carved chalice and on the chalice was a sparkling ruby. I pressed the ruby as Fiona had done and Danu’s eyes met mine with approval. I thought she winked at me, but I couldn’t be sure.

The frame shook violently and then swung wide, opening to the mouth of the passageway. I followed it as far as I could. The brick wall came at me fast and I stopped, but not before I smacked it with my nose.

“Ouch.”

My eyes squeezed shut, I took three deep breaths and imagined a doorway to replace the brick. The brick buckled and pulsed, finally rippling into a white-framed door tall enough to walk through.

“Hey,” I said to Birdie. “I made it bigger this time.”

“Very good, Anastasia.”

The room was still anchored by the massive round table. It was made of oak and carved with Celtic symbols such as triquetras, trees-of-life, and triskeles, as well as gods and goddesses, battle scenes, and other images of Ireland.

Lolly was setting up a screen at the far side of the room and Fiona was sifting through the wardrobe. She grabbed a light sweater and sat at one of the red velvet chairs.

Something was wrong here. No one was wearing a ritual cape. There were no herbs, crystals, athames.

This was not what a training session with these witches usually looked like.

“Why isn’t anyone dressed?”

Lolly looked at me with raised eyebrows. She had a highball in her hand and she was wearing a peach cocktail dress with halter straps that looked like it came from Marilyn Monroe’s closet.

“You know what I mean,” I said.

Birdie sat down next to Fiona and said, “Well, dear, your official training was not to begin until the summer solstice.”

“So?”

“So we weren’t prepared,” Fiona said. There was a bowl of popcorn on the table and she offered it to me. I declined.

“But the solstice is Friday. That’s not far off. Surely you must be able to teach me something that would be more beneficial than watching a movie.”

Birdie reached for the popcorn and said, “Sit down, Anastasia. You might learn something.”

So I sat. Lolly flipped the light switch and Fiona turned on the projector.

The film was shaky, as if it had been shot long ago with poor equipment. It opened with a view of the rich Irish hillside. Then a female voice that I recognized as Maegan’s, my great-grandmother, began to speak. She described Ireland and her many secrets, showing scenes of such iconic landmarks as the Hill of Tara—the ancient seat of power. One hundred and forty-two kings were said to have reigned there and it was believed to have been a realm into the otherworld where the gods resided. It
went on to explain how Woodhenge, similar to England’s Stonehenge, was constructed around the Hill and how it was used for inauguration ceremonies.

The next shot was of the Stone of Destiny, thought to have been brought to the Hill of Tara by the Tuatha Dé Danann, the red-haired, fair-skinned magical people of the goddess Danu. Legend has it that the stone would roar when touched by the rightful king of the land. Next, Maegan talked about the three other treasures brought to the island by the Danann: Dagda’s Cauldron, from which none left hungry; Spear of Lugh, which would secure victory for the warrior who held it; and the Sword of Light of Núada, from which none could escape once drawn.

Maegan said, “Beneath her bosom, Tara holds great secrets you are beholden to protect at all costs.”

A half an hour had passed at that time and I was growing impatient. How was this supposed to help me catch a killer?

I shut off the projector and asked Birdie just that. Lolly, seated closest to the lights, got up and turned them on.

My grandmother tilted her head and said, “That’s not what you requested. You asked us to teach you how to be the Seeker of Justice. This is your legacy, child, this is your destiny. This is what you must embrace if you are to retrieve your mother come Samhain.”

My mother, faced with a difficult choice to protect me, committed a high crime, according to some council that my family was involved with back in Ireland. It was agreed that I would speak on her behalf and try to bring her home. But her hearing wasn’t until October 31, four months down the road. There was nothing I could do for
her now. Right now, my focus was on finding out what happened to my father.

I said all this to Birdie and she stood to address me.

“Listen to me. Do not tread into dark waters when we are so close to having your mother back. This thing can wait. I cannot have you hurting yourself or damaging everything we have accomplished. The Council was pleased with your performance on protecting the page of Ballymote.” She was referring to a quest she sent me on a few months ago. “It was the only reason they agreed to an early hearing.” She grasped my shoulders, then dropped her hands as if she had been burned.

She studied me for a moment, her eyes dancing up and down my body. “What has happened to your heart?”

“What? Nothing has happened to my heart. It’s right where I left it.”

She began sniffing me like Thor does when I’ve been around another dog. She grabbed my hands and held them up to the light.

“What have you been doing?”

“Birdie, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Because I didn’t.

She grabbed my satchel from near the door and sifted through it.

“Hey! Stop that!”

She pulled Cinnamon’s gun out of the bag and I ducked. “Be careful with that! Put it back.”

“What is this?” she demanded.

“A gun. Cinnamon gave it to me,” I said, throwing my cousin under the bus.

“This is not the way we do things.”

“Are you kidding me? Lolly strapped me up with enough hardware on that ‘mission’ you sent me on to take down a terrorist cell.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

Fiona said, “Well, dear, we knew you were heading into danger. We needed you protected.” She took off her sweater. “And we didn’t know the boots were loaded.”

Lolly said, “That’s why I gave you the knife.” Then she chewed on an ice cube.

“The difference,” Birdie said in a tone reserved for when she wanted to emphasize she was older and wiser than me, “is that you were forced into a situation that put you in harm’s way. You were being hunted.” She held up the gun. “But this tells me that you are the one who is hunting.”

She put the gun in the bag and set it on the floor next to the chair between us.

I stared at it for a beat, put my hands on the back of the chair. She was wrong; she was wrong about this one. Every nerve in my body told me so. She couldn’t see past her worry about my mother.

I raised my voice, held it firm. “I am seeking justice.”

“You are seeking revenge!” Her fury vibrated the room.

“And what if I am, Grandmother, so what? Don’t we abide by Celtic law?” I flashed my right hand toward the blank screen and it snapped and twirled up into itself.

Birdie yelled a Celtic triad at me. “Three things without which the protection of the Mighty Ones cannot be: forgiving an enemy and a wrong done; wisdom in judgment and act; cleaving to what is just, come what may.”

Behind me, a frame leaped off the wall and crashed to the floor.

I fired back. “Three things only a fool calls imprudent: to seek knowledge, come what will; to give alms openly; and to endure for truth and justice without fear of what may come.”

The projector spun off the table and slammed onto the floor.

“Why do you think the tiger has appeared?”

“To warn me of danger.”

“Wrong!” She slammed her hands down on the table. Behind her, the door cracked and flew off its hinges. “To warn you not to make the same mistakes your mother did.”

I tightened my grip on the chair. “The difference is”—I leaned forward—“I won’t get caught!”

The chair shook in my grip and shattered into a heap of dust and debris.

Birdie stared at the broken pieces, flicked her eyes to her sisters. Finally she looked at me.

“If you pursue this, you do so without me.”

I picked up my bag, stepped over the pile, and stared her down.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Chapter 28

I was shaking as I stormed out of the house, but I couldn’t let the scene with Birdie affect what I had to do.

This was my mission, my responsibility to my father to find out why he was killed.

And to bring down whoever was behind it.

I had plenty of time before I was supposed to meet Cinnamon, so I went back to the cottage, grabbed the mail, and tucked the gun into my underwear drawer. I cranked the air on for Thor and removed his spy goggles and bandana. He settled into the couch while I reached for the CD case that Iris had given me.

One by one, I checked the disks again, even consulted the Blessed Book (my family’s magical grimoire) for an electronic retrieval spell, but came up short.

I flipped through the mail. Bills, advertisements, more bills.

But something clicked into place.

I snatched the last CD off my desk and looked at the code on the back again.

GGGH225.

GGGH—Geraghty Girls’ Guesthouse.

The address of the cottage was 225 before they purchased the lot and incorporated it into their business. Long before I moved in. My dad would have known that.

Did he wipe the disks after he printed out the information and bury the files here on the property? Hide them inside the house?

Why would he do that?

Unless…he knew he was in danger and it was his insurance policy.