wicked witches 07.5 - christmas witch (7 page)

“It’s the best thing ever,” Clove said sincerely. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” I said, my cheeks burning. “I … come out and play in it. That’s why I conjured it.”

“I have to get my coat and gloves first,” Clove replied. “I don’t want to get sick.”

Thistle hammered Clove with a snowball as Twila chased her around. “Thistle!”

“I’m going to make you eat snow,” Clove warned, darting back inside. I had no doubt she’d return looking like the ghost of snowmen past and present.

Bay was the last to appear in the doorway, and the marvel on her face was something I won’t soon forget. “It’s snowing.” The words were barely a whisper. “The people on the television said there was no chance it would snow. How did this happen?”

“Your Aunt Tillie did it,” Winnie said, staring intently at her daughter. “She wanted you to have the best Christmas ever. Do you like it?”

Bay turned her attention to me, and I swear she looked as if she would burst into tears. “I … .”

“Don’t you even think about crying, little missy,” I warned, wagging a finger in her face. “Christmas isn’t for crying. Santa isn’t going to bring you any presents if you cry. You know that, right?”

Bay collected herself. “I still don’t believe in Santa,” she said. “You can’t make me. I know the truth.”

“Well, I guess you’re not getting anything good this year then,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I said I didn’t believe in Santa,” Bay said. “I do believe in you, though.”

For some odd reason a lump formed in my throat. “I believe in you, too,” I said. “You’re going to get your Christmas, Bay. This is only the first step. I’m going to find Bernard, and Santa will be at the town party. Everything will be okay.”

“You can’t promise her you’re going to find Bernard,” Winnie whispered. “You don’t know that.”

“Did I make it snow?”

“Yes, but … .”

“Am I all powerful?”

“Not last time I checked,” Winnie shot back. “If you were all powerful, you wouldn’t have to threaten the neighbor’s dog every time you go out to collect the mail.”

“Just you wait, niece,” I said. “This is only the beginning.”

Clove reappeared in the doorway, covered in so many layers of outdoor clothes I could barely see her. “Prepare to die, Thistle!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Thistle scoffed. “I … .”

I don’t know what convinced me to throw the snowball. She’s a child and I should take that into consideration whenever her antics get out of control. The look on her face when the snowball exploded against her cheek was priceless, though.

“That was so mean!” Thistle screeched, wiping the leftover chunks from her face.

“I think you had it coming,” I said, my grin wide.

“I’m going to make you eat snow,” Thistle warned.

“Not until you have a coat, gloves and hat on,” Twila said, snagging Thistle around the neck. “Inside right now, young lady! You’re not allowed out until you’re dressed for the weather.”

Thistle put up a fight but ultimately gave in. I happily watched properly dressed Clove and Bay cavort until my attention was drawn to a figure moving up the sidewalk.

Terry’s face was filled with as much wonder as Bay’s when she first saw the descending flakes.

“Does someone want to explain this to me?” Terry asked.

“It’s snowing,” Clove replied.

“I know it’s snowing, Clove,” Terry said. “It’s snowing all over town. Do you want to know the interesting thing, though? It’s only snowing here in our town. The other towns around us are still dry. What do you make of that?”

Clove shot Terry an impish grin and shrugged. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”

“I’ll bet,” Terry said, turning his attention to me. “Is this part of saving Christmas?”

“It’s a step in the right direction,” I replied, refusing to let his stern face dampen my fun.

“You can’t just … make it snow,” Terry said. He was aware of our witchy gifts, even though he pretended to be in the dark. He couldn’t explain them so he opted to ignore them. “People are going to talk. This could make national headlines, Mrs. Winchester.”

“So what?”

“So … what will people say?”

“If you’re worried they’re going to scream ‘witch’ and try to burn me at the stake, don’t,” I said. “No one can prove anything.”

“You did do this, though, didn’t you?”

I shrugged. “Like Clove said, it’s a Christmas miracle.”

“It’s the best miracle ever,” Bay said, beaming as she appeared at Terry’s side. “Now all we need is a puppy.”

“You’re not getting a puppy.”

Bay ignored my pronouncement, instead dumping a handful of snow down the front of Terry’s coat. For a moment I worried he was too flummoxed by the snow to handle a little girl’s happiness. I should never underestimate him.

“You’d better start running now,” Terry warned. “Your mothers and I are going to challenge you little ones and Aunt Tillie to a snowball fight. You’d better start building your fort now or I’m going to crush you.”

Bay giggled. “What do we get if we win?”

“What do you want?”

“A second serving of chocolate cake.”

Winnie sighed. “Fine. If you guys win, we’ll finish off the cake. We can bake another one tomorrow.”

Bay squealed, delighted. “I think Christmas is going to be saved after all.”

“I’ve been telling you that for two days! When will anyone in this family start believing me?”

“I’ll believe you if we win the snowball fight,” Bay said.

“Of course we’re going to win the snowball fight,” I replied. “If you think I’m letting someone else eat my cake, you’re crazy. Come on, girls. It’s time to prepare for war.” I stopped in front of Terry before joining the girls on the side of the house. “May the Goddess have mercy on your poor soul.”

“Bring it on,” Terry said, smiling despite himself. “Christmas is coming early and you’re going down for a change.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Seven

“How did you get stuck with us two days in a row?” Thistle asked, watching as I mixed herbs in a bowl the next afternoon. “I thought you would be everyone’s favorite person after the snow thing.”

Funny. I thought so, too. “Maybe I volunteered to take you,” I suggested. “Did you ever think of that?”

“Nope.”

That kid is too smart for her own good. “Your mothers have a few things to do,” I said. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. They’re running out of time.”

“Are they off getting our puppy?” Bay asked.

“I’m going to cast a spell and make you allergic to dogs if I hear about that puppy one more time,” I threatened. “How does that sound?”

“Can’t you just make us allergic to you?” Thistle asked. “I think we’d all be happy then.”

I stopped mixing long enough to stare her down. “Thistle, in a few years you’re going to be one of the all-time greatest snot-nosed teenagers to ever walk the face of the Earth,” I said. “When that happens, I’m going to laugh at your mother because she earned all the trouble you’re going to bestow upon her, and then I’m going to move to another house. Does that make you happy?”

“Geez, I was just joking,” Thistle said, rolling her eyes. “There’s no need to blow a basket.”

“Gasket,” Bay automatically corrected as she came into the kitchen.

Thistle made a face. “What’s a gasket? How do you blow one?”

That was a pretty good question.

“How do you blow a basket?” Bay shot back.

That was an even better question. “You two need to stop squabbling,” I ordered. “Santa doesn’t like fresh-mouthed little girls.”

“You like us, though, and you’re better than Santa,” Clove said, her eyes sparkling.

I leaned down so we were eye to eye. “I think you’re even more manipulative than your two cousins put together,” I said. “At least they’re upfront about what they do. You sneak in behind them and wreak havoc when you think no one is looking.”

Clove blanched. “I do not.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” I pointed out. “The three of you all have special gifts. You’re all different, but when you work together the sky is the limit on what you can accomplish. I can’t wait until you’re teenagers and you decide to work as a unit against your mothers.”

“Why?” Bay asked.

“Because when your mothers were teenagers they made my hair go gray,” I replied, pointing to my mostly ashy hair. It was once dark and lush like Marnie and Clove’s, but time caught up with it years ago and I don’t have the energy to dye it. “My hair used to look just like Clove’s. Your mothers turned it this way.”

“How did they do that?”

“By doing the things you guys are going to do in a few years,” I said, measuring some hemlock and dumping it into the bowl.

“I can’t wait to be a teenager,” Thistle said. “That means we’ll get to stay out as late as we want.”

“And no naps,” Bay added.

“And we’ll get to date boys,” Clove said, giggling.

I fixed her with a dubious look. “You’re going to be boy crazy. I can already tell.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Your mother was boy crazy, too,” I answered. “In fact, all of your mothers were boy crazy when they were younger.”

“Now they’re just crazy about one boy,” Bay said. “Officer Terry makes them all go bonkers.”

I studied her for a moment, worried she was building up some great romance in her head. For a girl who wants a father, Terry is an awfully appealing figure. “Your mothers like to compete for Terry’s affection because they always want to win,” I explained. “I taught them that. What they do when Terry is around is more about them than him. You understand that, right?”

“I’m not sure,” Bay admitted. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t like Officer Terry?”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “In fact, the more you like him, the better. If you’re ever in trouble, Bay, don’t hesitate to go to him. He’ll move heaven and earth to keep you safe and protected.”

“So … what are you saying?”

“Terry is not your father,” I said, opting for bluntness. “You have a father. You all have fathers. Terry is not going to swoop in and fill that hole in your hearts. I don’t want you to think he is, because that’s not a reasonable assumption.”

“I know he’s not my dad,” Bay said. “I … he’s fun, though. He always makes me laugh.”

“I have a feeling Terry will always be there for you, Bay,” I said. “Don’t worry about that.”

“That’s good,” Thistle said. “As long as he’s in charge of the police we know we’ll never be arrested. We can make him do what we want if we cry.”

I pursed my lips to keep from laughing. Seriously, it’s like looking in a mirror sometimes when I watch that kid. “I’m all for manipulating people to get what you want,” I said. “What you need to remember is that if you do it too often, it will come  back to bite you.”

“What will?”

“Karma.”

“That’s what you were talking to Lila about,” Bay said. “When is karma going to get her?”

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

“As soon as I can free up some time in my schedule,” I said, mixing the rest of the herbs together and sealing the concoction into a large baggie. “Okay, we’re ready. Everyone, get your coats, and don’t forget your hats and mittens. I do not want any of you getting sick.”

“Because it will ruin Christmas for us?” Clove asked.

“Because I’ll get yelled at by your mothers,” I shot back. “Everyone, move your butts and head for the car. We’ve got a Christmas to finish saving.”

“I DON’T
understand what you’re doing,” Bay said, watching as I sprinkled my spell ingredients on Bernard’s front porch. “Are you trying to make him come back here or are we going to go to him?”

Sometimes the way Bay’s mind works is astonishing. I never considered trying to make Bernard come to us. That would’ve have been much easier to do. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll try to make him come to us,” I replied. “Right now, we’re trying to find out where he is.”

“What if he’s dead in a ditch?” Thistle asked.

“Why does your mind always go there? Is there a reason you’re so morbid?”

“HBO.”

I should have seen that coming. “Well, I’m going to make sure you don’t watch HBO again,” I threatened. “Not everyone who wanders away ends up dead in a ditch.”

“Do some of them?” Clove asked.

“Only flaming asshats,” I replied. “Okay, step back.”

The girls did as instructed, keenly watching me. Magic is the one realm in which they opt for safety and never put up a fight when I order them to do something.

I pressed my hands together, muttered a short incantation – mostly because I didn’t want prying ears to pick it up and repeat it in front of their mothers – and smiled as the ingredients flared to life and formed a magical blue line.

The line led away from Bernard’s house.

“Are we going to follow the line?” Thistle asked.

I nodded.

“Will it lead us to Mr. Hill?”

“It should,” I said. I didn’t add that I hoped the line would lead us to Bernard still living and breathing. If it led us to a body, Christmas was officially going to be ruined – in more ways than one.

“Should we walk the line or drive?” Bay asked, her mind always hopping to the next task that needed to be solved. I’ve never been organized enough to think like that. She is going to make an interesting adult.

“We’re going to drive,” I said. “There’s snow on the sidewalks and that will make walking hard.”

“Thanks to you,” Thistle said, grinning.

I returned the smile. “Also, I don’t feel like walking,” I said. “If Bernard isn’t nearby we’re going to have to walk back and get the car and … well … nobody wants that.”

“Then let’s get moving,” Bay said, racing toward my car. “The faster we find Mr. Hill, the faster we save Christmas.”

“And get our puppy,” Clove said.

I flicked her ear, causing her to grab it and yelp. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not getting a puppy?”

“Just because you don’t like dogs doesn’t mean we don’t like dogs.”

“I never said I didn’t like dogs,” I argued. “I said our house already has too many people and you guys are too young to care for a dog.”

“You don’t know that,” Thistle protested. “We would be excellent pet owners.”