Chapter Twenty-nine
KING could hardly believe his eyes, yet he’d known
something
was up. The three of them looked identical . . . but not. There was a sameness yet a uniqueness about each, even from the back. Three dressed alike, in black statement shirts with orange lettering. PMS, indeed. A good ruse that would explain the little differences, should someone come upon the wrong . . . triplet? . . . unexpectedly. He’d nearly mistaken one, or two, of them for Harmony. Nearly. But not quite.
“I think we’re having the same hallucination,” Morgan said. “You three
act
like you know what you’re doing, I’ll give you that. I can’t wait to see what’s on that wall, if anything.”
“I can’t wait to see you side by side,” Aiden said. And when they turned, he raised a victory fist in the air, and shouted, “Yes! I
wasn’t
talking to Harmony most recently, was I? Which sassy witch was that?”
King saw the one in the middle wink.
“I admit,” Morgan said, “that I thought Harmony was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever met, and now I’m seeing triple, but I can’t tell which one’s Harmony. Bet you can’t either, King.”
“Oh, but I can.”
Like Morgan, Aiden went for his wallet. “We’re taking that bet.”
King strolled over to Harmony, the one whose chin rose a notch higher, whose nipples pebbled when he got close, whose eyes revealed disbelief, whose lips parted in invitation. He looked her in the eye, hooked an arm around her waist, and kissed her senseless. Half a second into the kiss, she returned his enthusiasm, her fingers tangling in his hair. Definitely his. Well, not precisely
his
.
Morgan swore, and Aiden whistled.
King knew he should break the kiss, but he couldn’t seem to get enough.
“Go, Daddy!” Reggie cheered.
And he’d had enough. King stepped away from Harmony while his daughter applauded. King’s ears got hot, so he was sure they were beet red. One of Harmony’s sisters gravitated to Aiden like a homing device.
“How long have you two been here?” King asked the newcomers.
“Hours,” Destiny said. “We saw you trying to make out with our sister.”
The discordant sound of music turned them to the piano. The kittens were dancing on and off the keys.
Morgan pulled aside the tapestry and palmed the wall. “You really think there’s a mural behind the grime?”
“We do,” Harmony said. “Aiden, Morgan, King, this is my sister Destiny, and the irreverent hussy is Storm. We’re triplets.”
“And you all think you’re psychic,” Morgan said.
“Takes one to know one,” the three of them said together.
“You’re psychic, besides being a witch?” King asked Harmony. “How does Morgan know?”
Harmony raised her brows. “How
does
Morgan know?”
Morgan stepped back. “From the way you were reading a painting that doesn’t exist.”
“Oh.” Harmony sat on a sofa. “He’s the debunker, Des.”
“So
he
says.”
Harmony looked from Morgan to Destiny and shrugged. “Whatever.”
Jake held up three fingers. “Free.”
“That means three,” Reggie explained.
“Three of us, yes, and I already know that you can’t say Harmony.” She kissed Jake’s hand. “But can you say Honey, instead?”
“I can say Honey.”
It’s settled then. “You can call me Honey.”
“Free Honeys?”
“No, I’m Honey, that’s Dessie, and that’s Storm.”
Jake nodded. “Honey, Dessie, and Strom.”
“Figures,” Storm said, picking him up. “You get the easy name wrong.” She held him close and kissed his brow. “Say Storrrrrrm.”
“Strommm.”
Storm held Jake tight for a minute, which didn’t seem at all in character, King thought.
Two workers were taking down the tapestry. “Can we get those spotlights up?” Harmony asked. “Aiden, how long will it take you to clean the wall?”
“A couple of hours, maybe more. Depends on how dirty it is and what medium was used . . . in the event anyone painted anything.”
“Gilda has supper ready,” King said. “Let’s eat first.”
Harmony touched his hand. “We need a few minutes to change.”
King watched them go. “How can you
not
tell them apart?” he asked his friends.
“I know what you mean,” Aiden said, watching as well. “I know which one is Storm. She walks and flirts with sassitude.”
“Which witch is the witch that starts with a
B
?” Morgan asked.
“Don’t mix up the
B
witch and the
W
witch around them,” King said. “You might find yourself growing a tail.”
At supper, the triplet whose tight butterscotch V-neck tee said Destiny arrived first, wearing jeans and cowboy boots.
“What? No Spurs?” Morgan asked, before he ducked the pickle the cowgirl threw.
King was afraid the Storm triplet would scare Jake. She’d traded her blonde bombshell look for purple hair and lips, and a spiked dog collar. Her black spiderweb skirt made her look like a female vampire, and her boots probably came with a whip. But Aiden was beaming.
“Rev your engine?” Storm asked.
Aiden’s eyes glazed over. “Vroom.”
Last to the table, the hellcat arrived in peach spikes and matching tee with a gauzy rust orange skirt flowing around her legs, a tiger lily above her breasts and at each ear.
“Our father did this to us,” Destiny said, opening her napkin. “He made us wear name shirts, at home, till we left for college.”
“Irresponsible and clueless,” Storm said. “We were trading shirts at Jake’s age.”
Harmony nodded. “It’s Dad’s fault we’re hooked on literal statement shirts. I mean, we don’t like these, but they have their uses.”
“I’ve started
hoping
for messages,” King admitted, “so call me a convert.”
“Harmony,” Storm chided. “Did you wear the
O
donor shirt?”
“She did.” Aiden’s appreciation annoyed King.
Aiden winked at Storm. “I gotta go start that wall.” But he didn’t move, probably because she didn’t.
“What’s with the gigundous boxes in the great hall?” Harmony asked, offering King the potatoes.
“Clothes, toddler furniture, supplies, mattresses. We’re converting the dorm wing into bedrooms. The adults will use the furniture we’ve got.”
“But it has negative energy.” Harmony sighed and looked at her sisters. “We have some neutralizing to do. My sisters are staying for a few days. We have enough cots.”
“We’re filling up the dorm by the minute,” Reggie said.
Harmony looked up, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Why? Who else is staying?”
“Aiden and I,” Morgan said. “King asked us to stick around, roll up our sleeves, and move furniture.”
“Yummy,” Storm said. “A coed sleepover.”
Reggie cleared her throat. “Yoo-hoo. Two-year-old in the dorm.”
“Bummer,” Storm said.
Aiden gave Storm a wink. “Keep me company while I clean the wall?”
“I’m outta here.” Storm followed Aiden from the kitchen.
“I’m gonna get Jake ready for bed,” Reggie said, “so by the time anybody comes up, he’ll be asleep.”
“We’ll try to be quiet,” King hefted Jake in his arms for a good night hug. “Night, sport. I’m sorry, Regg, I should have finished your room today.”
“We’ve never had a room of our own. Jake won’t wake up, he—no we—grew up in shelters, people coming and going all night, sometimes drunk. I sleep with one eye open, but nothing wakes him. Night,” she said as she left.
King sat and felt the weight of her suffering. His fault. All his fault.
“I’m gonna watch Aiden do the wall,” Destiny said. “We’ll need you in a little while, Sis.”
King gazed at Harmony.
Morgan scraped his chair back. “Three’s a crowd, so I’m . . . like you care.”
“Be there in a minute,” Harmony said.
King wanted to take her for a stroll through the parlor car, but he needed some questions answered. “Why are your sisters really staying?”
“To neutralize the negative energy in the rooms and furniture. Not much around here is positive.”
“I’m
positive
I want you in a bed.”
“For the record, I’m . . . open . . . to the possibility. But our wailing resident is seriously scary. The cats went berserk in the toy room today. I need my sisters for backup.”
“What does that mean?”
“Together, we combine our magick and harness our psychic energy. Together, we become the power of three as one. Together, we’re powerful witches.”
Chapter Thirty
HARMONY didn’t have time to calm King, no matter how much the power of three unnerved him. “I have to go,” she said. “My sisters and I need to interpret the message in that mural . . . together. We sense the mural’s there for a reason.”
“Are all witches psychic?” King asked. “Or are you unusual in that you’re psychics in addition to being witches?”
“The two often go together. Don’t tell me; you don’t believe in psychics any more than you believe in witches or ghosts, right?”
“I believe you brought something frightening to life in this place.”
“You narrow-minded son of a . . . witch.”
“You’ve got my mother down perfectly,” King said.
“I was talking about Gussie. You can’t seriously blame me for her?”
“I can blame you for bringing her out of hiding.”
“Excuse me,
I
shut her up. She’s probably less malevolent now than she’s been in years, because I’m here. And she’s more constrained now that my sisters are here.”
“Then explain what happened to Reggie. That never happened before.”
“Reggie’s never been here before. Morgan said accidents always happen around you. They also happen around your daughter. And Gussie’s been wailing for a century around the Paxtons. You can’t blame me for that.”
“Yet, what a coincidence. You come here for vintage clothes and end up taking care of our ghost . . . You want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“It’s . . . complicated.”
“I’m listening.” King sat beside her, took her hand, and rubbed his thumb over the Celtic ring. “I usually say ‘it’s complicated’ to a woman looking for a commitment. It’s called evasion. So, you want to tell me why my ghost shuts up when you show up, plus you’re wearing a ring my grandfather described as one Nicodemus brought home from one of his seafaring jaunts?”
More than anything, Harmony wanted to lay her head on King’s shoulder and hear him say he
believed
in her. She was glad he’d picked her out of the clone line. “I’m sure there are thousands of rings like this in the world.”
King kissed the back of her hand. “I’m waiting.”
“Okay. I found the ring in the hem of a gown I bought at a yard sale. When I put it on, I saw this castle in my mind, so I came here, and that’s the truth. I think the gown and ring belonged to someone who lived here.”
“Maybe the other half of the ring was in the sleeve?”
“Stop baiting me and tell me what you know about the ring.”
“I like baiting you. When you get mad, your shoulders go back so your breasts pop out and call my name.”
“Always thinking with your man brain.”
“So what if you pictured this place? Why did you come?”
“When I put the ring on, I saw the castle in discord, and I fainted. I know you’re gonna think this is nuts, but I saw coming here as a psychic mandate from the universe, as if there was something here that only I could fix. Though everyone in Salem knew the place was haunted by a witch . . . except you . . . I came the following day.”
King touched her brow with the back of his hand. “I don’t like that you fainted. Are you okay?”
“The darkness sucked me in. I’m fine . . . Tell me about the ring.”
He played with her ring. “Nicodemus brought Gussie gifts when he came home from the sea. When he brought the ring, she’d peeked, and expected it, but he didn’t give it to her. She was never the same.”
Harmony sighed. “Which is why she wants vindication.”
“Vindication? That has all kinds of meanings, and how do you know that’s what she wants?”
“She told me . . .” Harmony read King’s blatant disbelief. “I was wondering what she wanted, and the word came to me, as if she said it, with her icy breath on my neck.”
King sat straighter. “Is she the reason for the sudden freezes around here?”
Harmony nodded. “You get cold when she shows, because she’s stealing your energy and body heat. You felt her long before I got here, didn’t you? Admit it.”
“Hell,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I felt her when I was a kid, but nothing bad happened. As a matter of fact, I had some close calls. I almost drowned once, and I’d swear someone colder than the sea brought me to the surface.”
“Like she saved Jake today. When did your accidents start?”
“After college.”
“When you were a man like Nicodemus. Gussie likes children but not men.”
“Or young women,” King observed.
“Because a young woman likely got the other half of the ring.”
King sat back in his chair. “That actually makes sense.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I wonder whose half you have.” He lifted her hand and placed it against his face.
“Don’t try making up now.” Harmony reclaimed her hand. “I have the half that belonged to Lisette, the girl he gave it to.”
“Lisette? You know that because . . . you sensed it?”
“Wearing the gown, Lisette’s name came to me, and I envisioned her sewing something in the hem. I checked and found the ring.” Harmony thought about that for a minute. “Maybe Lisette sent me here. If Gussie was upset with her, those empty picture frames might have held pictures of Lisette. I need to tell my sisters. I’ll be in the parlor.”
Her sisters were watching Aiden clean the wall. “Is he using a toothbrush?” Harmony asked.
Destiny shook her head. “It’s
smaller
than a toothbrush.” She crossed her arms. “He
says
he’s an artist.”
“Will somebody,
please
, get this artist a scrub brush?” Storm called from beside him.
Destiny and Harmony looked at each other and grinned.
“I see something!” Storm said. “Harm, Des, come here.”
“Aren’t you standing in the artist’s light?” Destiny asked her.
“No,” Aiden said. “She’s fine. You know, I think this
is
a mural.”
“No kidding, Rembrandt.” Storm tried to spike his hair, but Aiden didn’t seem to mind.
Harmony touched the colors on the clean bottom corner. “What makes you think it’s a mural and not a regular painting?”
“The paint strokes I’ve uncovered so far are pretty damned big. Might take up the whole wall, which means you may as well go to bed. “I’ll be at this all night.”
Storm finger-wiped a spot on his cheek. “I’ll stay up and help.”
“She stays,” Destiny said, “and the wall won’t be what gets done.”
“Bitch!” Storm snapped, and Aiden chuckled.
Destiny shook her head. “I’m off to bed. Coming, Sis?”
Harmony turned to go, but King leaned against a door-jamb, arms crossed, an aura of male need about him. His long frame was invested with tension, his square chin high, the light in his whiskey eyes hot, hungry, and provocative. “I’ll be up later,” she said.
Storm hooted, and Destiny shook her head. “Sisters!”
As Harmony closed in on King, he unfolded like a lazy panther sighting prey. She cupped his cheek, and he placed his hand over hers and slid it to the back of his neck as he brought their lips together.
“Ahem! You’re not alone,” Storm called.
“Train shed?” Harmony whispered low and throaty. “Chugga chugga.”
“We’re being spontaneous, now, right?”
“King, if you announce spontaneity, it’s boring.”
“Hey, no woman has ever called me boring.”
“You had sex with women in comas.”
“You’ve cured me. Or ruined me.”
She took him by the hand. A few minutes later, they were about to cut through the toy room. “Hold on, McBullseye.”
“I know. My ass is throbbing.”
“Just your ass? How disappointing.”
“Don’t give me any sass.” He led the way to the train shed. “The toy room didn’t seem bad tonight.”
“Duh. Because we cleansed it today. It’s full of positive energy now. Witches are good for something.”
“I can think of several delightful things.”
The brightly lit train shed housed an amazingly well-preserved steam engine, its wheels as tall as her. The engine and parlor car capped a hill, each car balanced on opposing downward slopes, its track curved like a horseshoe that ran beneath giant doors at each end. “This is ingenious,” Harmony said.
“You think the train’s amazing, wait till
I
get going!” He climbed on the engine and rang the bell. “It was a dark and stormy night,” he whispered as he pulled her up and into his arms.
“The storm does lend our clandestine meeting a certain panache, but I’m still mad at you. I did not set Gussie loose.”
“I apologize. I’m spooked after what happened to Reggie.”
“You’re a good dad.”
“Sure am, for a whole day and a half now.”
“Let’s leave the guilt and regrets behind. Show me the parlor car.”
“Not before you take a tour of the engine.”
“This is not the engine I’m interested in.”
“How many people can say they got laid in a Boston & Lowell steam engine?”
“Well,” Harmony said, raising his shirt, “when you put it that way . . .” She kissed the line of hair from his navel to his zipper.
“Come here, Hellcat.” King pulled her face up to his.
“Open your mouth and show me a witch’s passion to match a devil’s desire.”