The dark-haired warlock nodded to me. “Mrs. Stravinsky-Grantham, we’d—”

  My hand rose. “You can call me Mrs. Grantham. Can I get your names, please?”

  That made the woman frown, but I didn’t care. We wouldn’t ever hang out together for drinks on the veranda, but if these guys posed a problem later, I needed their names now.

  “I’m Sedgewick McGalleon,” the dark-hair warlock said. “Other members from the various guilds joined me today.” He pointed to his taller, brown-haired counterpart. “Crandall is from the Wizard’s Guild.”

  “Good morning.” Crandall gave me an informal nod, and his shoulder-length, curly hair flopped with the movement.

  Sedgewick gestured to the final spellcaster, the very short, raven-haired witch with a cherub face and voluptuous hips. “This is Angela Ambleberry, the representative from the Witch’s Guild.”

  “Mrs. Grantham,” the witch said sternly from between thin, heavily rouged lips. The way the witch pursed her mouth and sighed meant business.

  I tried to straighten my back, even in a seat that only Alice in Wonderland could appreciate.

  “Now that we’ve introduced ourselves,” Crandall said, “We’d like to get down to business. How long have you been aware of the Basilisk King in your territory?”

  “Exactly eleven days, ten hours,” I glanced at the wall clock, “and twenty minutes.”

  That response got a sour look from the witch. “Thanks,” she said.

  “During that time, were there any human casualties?” Sedgewick asked.

  Now this question made me want to squirm, but I held hard. Thorn was likely asked the same questions and would be honest in the interest of the pack.

  I nodded. “A human died in the parking lot of The Bend of the River Flea Market, my work. You can speak to Bill, the owner, for more information.”

  Crandall harrumphed. “That goblin...”

  I added, “Bill handled the situation and performed clean-up as you would call it. No authorities visited the site.”

  Sedgewick’s thick black eyebrows rose. “What’s to stop the human’s family from investigating?”

  “I don’t know—but the incident occurred on Bill’s grounds. It was his responsibility. Don’t complain to me.” My voice had weakened, but not my resolve.

  Sedgewick sighed. “We’re still investigating as to why the Basilisk King veered off course—”

  The witch stepped forward, briefly revealing a whiff of her power through the stench of cinnamon. “That’s privileged information the wolf doesn’t need to know.”

  Sedgewick and Angela exchanged a hard look. “She’s confronted him already. She should at least know we have unanswered questions. We expect her to comply and answer.”

  Angela then asked, “What happened to you after you went into Double Trouble State Park?”

  I took a deep breath and considered the sequence of events. No humans were involved, and while the pack wouldn’t be harmed, only a fool would reveal why he wanted Grandma and me. “The Basilisk King is searching for particular prey. He drained a shapeshifter at the Bashful Brownies Baking Company. I can only conclude he’s looking for other shapeshifters in general, such as werewolves. He kidnapped my grandmother to lure our pack to her position. I didn’t want the others to get hurt and made a leadership decision to face him alone.”

  They exchanged glances before Sedgewick prodded me. “And?”

  His question begged to know what powers the Basilisk King possessed. What did he look like? Did I even harm him? I spilled as many details as I could without revealing my skills in Old Magic.

  “That goblin blade sounds handy,” Angela said. “Are you authorized to wield such a dangerous weapon?”

  I snorted. “I didn’t know Jersey had a magical concealed carry law.”

  “Please don’t compare this to human firearm laws, but like the humans’ weapons, you could unknowingly cause damage if you aren’t properly trained to use it.” Angela smirked. “We had to wipe the memories of five people, and a small child was attacked. The South Toms River Pack has been noticeably rowdy lately. Didn’t a rival pack attack you last year?”

  “Rowdy?” Had she lost her damn mind? She was lucky I wasn’t in my peak condition. “We defended ourselves. What were we supposed to do? Put out a welcome mat for other packs as they invaded our territory?”

  My raised voice made the nymphs appear. Grace and Dione flitted near the door and headed outside while Mevelyn and Karey stood in observance next to me.

  “Nat, is there a problem?” Mevelyn asked softly.

  “None.” I pasted a smile on my face. “Just answering their questions.”

  Angela pursed her lips. Her face was gonna stay like that if she wasn’t careful.

  I took the moment to ask, “Have you found the Basilisk King?”

  “We’re searching for him,” Angela replied, “and we will determine whether he’ll continue to be a problem.”

  Translation: they hadn’t found a damn thing.

  Angela added, “You must understand that no one in any of the Guilds has faced him before and lived to provide information.”

  “Until me,” I finished.

  “Until you,” she conceded. “You’re not a spellcaster nor are you the most reliable source of information, but you’re all we have.”

  “Exactly.” Nick materialized in the middle of the room.

  The other spellcasters frowned. Looked like Nick had been waiting outside and the nymphs fetched him when they scurried out.

  “We’re conducting an interview, Fenton,” Crandall said crisply.

  “And Mrs. Grantham is my patient,” Nick replied just as tartly.

  “Patient?” Crandall glanced Nick over. “Last I heard you didn’t even finish the first semester—”

  Power flared in the room, and a white light flashed from where Nick stood. In less than a breath, the light disappeared yet all the spellcasters in the room no longer stood in the same spots. Angela sat on the couch, her legs crossed under her black skirt. Exasperation filled her face. From across the room, Crandell scratched his head. Sedgewick, on the other hand, fumed from where he stood closest to me.

  What the hell did I just miss?

  “Mrs. Grantham, let’s wrap up this interview, shall we?” Sedgewick said sternly.

  I cut a glance at Mevelyn, and she appeared equally confused, her mouth slightly open and brow knotted.

  “Did something happen?” I whispered.

  “The spellcasters had a brief...discussion and we resolved an internal matter,” Sedgewick replied.

  “About me?” I asked.

  “You weren’t the primary topic of the discussion, but Mr. Fenton told us you are a patient of Dr. Gustav Frankenstein and we should treat you with respect.”

  I hadn’t heard Dr. Frank’s true name in a while.

  Nick stood like stone, but his hardened expression directed at Crandall seemed like a dare, “Don’t cross the line, Houdini.”

  “The matter regarding all human interaction with the basilisk has been handled,” Sedgewick declared. “A warning has been issued to the South Toms River Pack. We’ll be watching you and observing how you conduct yourselves in the future. Members from the Warlock’s Guild will be responsible for enforcing this observation.”

  My heart fell. This was bad. Very bad.

  One would think having warlocks around to protect us from the Basilisk King might be a good thing, but I knew very well that not all warlocks had great intentions. Many of them used shapeshifters as power sources for malicious spells.

  “Can we appeal this decision?” I managed to ask.

  Nick slowly shook his head.

  Sedgewick stood. “I spoke with your alpha, and he asked the same question—in a not-so-polite manner, I might add—but the answer is the same. For the well-being and protection of the humans from the supernatural world, we must intervene.” He nodded as if such a decision had great weight. “We don’t know whether the Basilisk King will return or if he’s still following the fairy path’s southward trajectory.”

  I could bet half my hoarded stash that bastard wasn’t done with us yet. There weren’t too many Old Magic practitioners, and if the Basilisk King was as hungry as he claimed, he’d line up at the buffet line again.

  The rest of the spellcasters stood and vanished with a shimmer of dancing lights. They didn’t even bother to say goodbye or thank me for my time, but then again, there was no reason to say goodbye when it was likely I’d see them again sooner rather than later.

  Chapter 25

  After my little chit-chat with the Guild representatives, I asked about seeing Grandma, but I was herded back to bed, fed broth, and forced to take a nap. The way Karey eyed me as she shut the door told me Sveta got similar treatment during nap time.

  “I checked on Grandma and she’s sleeping right now,” Karey said. “You’ll see her soon enough.”

  “Fine.”

  “I don’t want to hear a peep,” the nymph said.

  “Gladly,” I murmured.

  A few hours later, I was refreshed and restless. A quick peek out my window showed four cars parked near the house. Two of them I knew belonged to pack members. Looked like we had plenty of guards around.

  Karey left me some clothes, and though I wouldn’t have chosen the bright yellow maxi dress, this outfit hit a home run compared to the Juicy ensemble I wore the other day. I slipped the garment over my head and paused. What was that earthy smell? I pressed the clothes to my face and took a deep breath. Oh, the clothes were made from hemp, but I detected an underlying scent within the folds.

  Marijuana?

  I snorted then giggled. To each their own. If the nymphs were hitting the chronic, that was their business, not mine. Surely, their use was medicinal.

  Once I was dressed, I donned some flip-flops. Then I straightened my shoulders and placed the goblin blade in my pocket. The letter opener slipped in with ease. Time to check on Grandma and then face the pack for an update on any Basilisk King sightings.

  I plodded out of my room and headed down the hallway. The master bedroom and Sveta’s nursery were empty. Where were they keeping Grandma? I closed my eyes and focused. Several people moved around the house, in particular two people in the kitchen. But if Grandma was resting, why would she be in the kitchen?

  My heart fell as I entered the kitchen to find Mevelyn and Karey. Little Sveta sat in a high chair munching on crackers.

  “Good to see you up,” Karey said brightly. “You hungry? I’m making vegan fettuccine alfredo with almond milk and stinkhorn mushrooms.”

  So that was the ghastly smell.

  “Sounds lovely.” I nuzzled the top of Sveta’s head. “Where’s Grandma?”

  “After the wizard healed her,” Mevelyn explained, “she was in much better shape so your family picked her up. Your mom wanted me to call her if your health improved.”

  I sighed in relief. At least Grandma was well. “I’m better now. Can someone give me a ride over there?”

  “Are you sure you’re up for it?” the nymph asked with concern.

  “It doesn’t matter whether I’m up for it or not,” I said. “I need to see for myself if Grandma is doing better.”

  Reluctantly, Karey drove me to my parents’ house. After we pulled up to the quiet Colonial, I shuffled up to the house. All this walking had drained me a bit, but I was much stronger than this morning.

  I took in the street. The neighborhood was quaint and suburban. Sprinklers sprayed arcs of water in two yards, and a pair of middle-schoolers laughed as they rode their bikes down the road. All was well, but a couple of nights ago, terror and blood saturated the air. I closed my eyes and briefly gave in to experience their agony. I couldn’t shove the feelings into a box and pretend the attack didn’t happen. I had a town to protect now and their home was my home.

  In a way, that meant the humans in the borough of South Toms River were my pack members too.

  I made my way to the door, took three deep cleansing breaths, and knocked.

  Mom answered the door, wearing a shawl and a soft smile. “Why didn’t you call me to come get you?”

  “Karey gave me a ride. I came to see Grandma,” was all I said in Russian.

  “She’s awake and sitting with your auntie,” Mom said, pulling me into a brief hug. “It’s good to see you up and moving.”

  “Thanks, Mama.”

  I walked into the living room, and the ladies in the room hushed. My heart fell to see Aunt Olga still covered in bruises and scratches. Her body was also taking overly long to heal from the basilisk poison. Why hadn’t Nick healed her, too? Grandma sat in her usual spot with an afghan covering her legs. She appeared small before, but this time, somehow the seat was far too big for her little frame. Had she shrunk in size or had the attack taken what few years she had left to live?

  Mom picked up some empty cups of tea from the end table and carried them into the kitchen while I sat down across from my grandmother and aunt.

  “Are you both well?” I asked softly.

  Aunt Olga gave a ladylike giggle, immediately lifting my mood. “I’ve had better days, but you won’t see me in ShopRite looking like this.” She extended her hand to the couch to encourage me to come closer. “You’re still recovering, Natalya. A harsh wind from the Baltic would blow you over, dear.”

  “I’m better.” I sat next to my aunt. My throat dried, and I blinked hard to push back tears of relief. “I had to see if you’re okay.”

  Grandma tsked, yet her voice was a thin whisper. “Lasovskaya blood is strong. My mother and the women before her survived worst.”

  Aunt Olga nodded sagely. “One man and his fat, ugly kuritsa won’t get the best of me.”

  I chuckled. Fat, ugly chickens, indeed.

  A question about what happened that night still hung in the air while we chatted about Grandma’s life back in Russia. Once the reminiscing ended, I had to speak.

  “Babushka, why did you leave the house to fight the Basilisk King?”

  “You need to give me some credit, girl,” Grandma said with a wheeze. “While I have strength in these hands, I will fight. That tyrant will want to face me again, and I don’t want you involved.”

  “I don’t want you involved either!” I blurted.

  “Yes, but I did what I did for a reason, child. In the old times, you either struck first or you waited to be struck down in your bed. Before his scaly children subdued me, I hurt him—but in a way I hadn’t expected.”

  Aunt Olga and I leaned forward.

  “That smart-mouthed Sumerian can be wounded,” Grandma said, “but you must get past his guards and he can summon hundreds of them. That’s far too many for us to fight, and he’s a demigod, after all.”

  My aunt asked, “So how can the pack win?”

  “We can’t,” I said simply.

  “Any creature that bleeds will heal over time,” Grandma surmised. “He’ll need to feed soon on better prey than a shapeshifter.”

  “And his source is either Old Magic practitioners or he’ll have to return to drink from the wake of She Who Always Walks the Path,” I said.

  “Who’s that?” Aunt Olga asked.

  I explained my late-night journey north and the details about my encounter with the mysterious being. I didn’t reveal her name—I had enough problems with the Basilisk King and didn’t need to drag her into it as well.

  Aunt Olga harrumphed. “Then he’ll come again and again like a bad boyfriend with crabs.”

  Grandma and I frowned. Eww.

  “Which means we need to hold the fort and wait for him to pass,” Auntie added with flourish.

  Grandma laughed, low and rich. “Starve him out like our people did with that little pissant Napoleon in 1812! Those were wild times!”

  Aunt Olga covered her mouth to laugh while Grandma guffawed.

  I wasn’t as amused. “Every shapeshifter will have to work with us, but I like this plan.”

  “I do, too,” my aunt agreed. “But where do we hide if that horrible man can leave those trunks anywhere?”

  “Nowhere is safe right now.” I shifted to stand, but an idea came to mind. “However, we might have a fort.”

  Thorn briefly came home, only to sleep next to me for a few hours, then leave again. He had to be weary from guarding Grandma all the time. All I could do to support him was offer my love and affection.

  Even though I was a bit tired, I still got up, dressed in my standard skirt-and-blouse uniform, and trudged to The Bends at seven in the morning.

  Aggie drove me to work.

  “Don’t you have to open Barney’s around ten?” I asked her.

  “You can give me every excuse in the book,” she replied. “I’m going to follow your ass everywhere until we get rid of that damn trunk hoarder.”

  I sighed. “I feel bad. Every time you show up on my doorstep, shit goes down.”

  She snorted and sipped some hazelnut coffee she stowed away in a travel mug. “I was positioned,” she used air quotes for emphasis, “to be an alpha female someday. I was honestly bred for an ass-kicking once in a while.”

  She shrugged to show me it wasn’t a big deal. “Par for the course.”

  We’d reached The Bends, but I didn’t bother to get out of the car. It was rather early at seven-thirty AM, and Thursday morning traffic along the Parkway hadn’t picked up to its usual frantic pace with rush hour.

  “I can’t imagine how your life would’ve been if you’d left to go to Las Vegas like you said you would when you first arrived.”

  She leaned her head against the driver’s side window. “Probably would’ve blown whatever cash I made on the casino buffets.” Her eyes went dreamy. “They got the best buffets ever. European brunches to midnight Vietnamese takeout. Don’t get me started on the breakfast offerings—”

  “Thanks, Aggie,” I said with a soft smile.

  She glanced at me and the sun hit the back of her head, illuminating her hair into a fiery halo. After knowing my best friend for so long, I knew her halo wasn’t angelic in the least. She could be hell’s angel when necessary.

 

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