Yuletide (Matilda Kavanagh Novels Book 3) (17 page)

“Are you okay?” Ronnie asked softly as she crouched next to me, one hand on my back.

“I think so.” I kept my voice equally soft, my throat thick.

“Did you see?” she asked.

When I looked into her eyes, I knew what she was asking. Did I see the monster in the dark coming back to life? “Yes, I did.”

“So it wasn’t my imagination?” she asked.

“No,” I whispered. I wished I could say otherwise, but we all knew gods thrived on belief. There was no more powerful belief than fear.

The children crowded in my living room, a half-pixie, and two witches had undone generations of neglect and indifference in less than the span of one night.

Chapter 19

Joey came out of the kitchen with a tray full of mugs of hot chocolate. White steam swirled into the air as she delicately picked her way through the children to place the tray on the coffee table. She faced me as the kids all reached for a mug. Joey held up an empty clear bottle that I recognized as one of my pre-made calming draughts. There was a question in her face, but I knew she’d already poured it into the cups. I nodded, letting her know that was fine. Each kid could’ve only gotten a tablespoon’s worth. It wouldn’t be enough to knock any of them out, but it was enough to steady their nerves.

“Probably time to start calling parents,” Ronnie said. She was sweeping up the broken ceramic ornament.

Artie and Pumpkin sat on opposite ends of the kitchen table, where I sat with my head resting on my arms. “Probably.” The word was slow and muffled as my cheek was smushed against my forearm.

Ronnie swept the dust and shards into the dust pan and walked it to the trash can in the kitchen. She grabbed my phone, pulling her cell phone out too. With a deep breath, I sat up, dug my cell phone out of my pocket, and joined everyone in the living room. The scent of chocolate did nothing to cover the stench of sulfur the kids had brought with them, but I was too exhausted to care. Ronnie handed the two phones to different kids, and I held mine out to the half-gremlin boy.

“Here,” I said, “call your uncle.”

“My uncle?” he asked, taking the phone.

“Yeah, your uncle. Call him to come get you.”

“But my mom…”

“Just do it as a favor to me, okay?” I said,

“Did he ask you to find me?”

I stared into his steely eyes. The faint traces of scales disappearing into his hairline made his uncle’s remarks echo in my mind. “Just call him.” With that, I turned and went into the kitchen. I pulled down herbs and oil, piling everything onto the counter.

“Can I help?” Joey asked as she walked in, her eyes darting over the supplies.

“I need five mason jars.” I motioned with my head to the pantry.

She hurried to get them as I hauled the ten-pound bag of sea salt from under the sink. Joey and I set to making a heady salt scrub for the kids, adding jasmine and honey to make it smell sweet. It would take a few tries to get the stench of burnt sulfur out of their skin and hair, but the salt scrub would make the process faster.

When the first parents arrived, we were sealing the jars. Soon, my apartment was full of crying parents and police. News reporters were crowded into the lobby, desperate to come up after following the mayor to my building, but Frankie and her brother kept them downstairs. I’d have to bake them some brownies.

Detective Knoll was the last to arrive, much to his embarrassment. But he was smooth and tried to blend in with the mayor’s security, as though he’d been with them the entire time. He already knew all of the parents, so he didn’t need to take their statements, though I imagined he would try to interview the kids later. I didn’t think that was the best idea if we were going to try to get them to stop thinking about Krampus.

Joey helped me hand out the jars of salt scrub, explaining what they were for. Some parents insisted on paying; others just cried and threw their arms around me, thanking me. I tried to share some of the attention with Ronnie, but she was washing mugs and keeping her eyes on the sink. I pursed my lips at her, but then someone cleared their throat and pulled away my attention.

Dietrich stood in my living room, narrow-brimmed hat on his head. His steely eyes pinned me to the spot, and his nephew stood beside him. Dietrich had one arm around the boy’s shoulders. Being half-gremlin, half-human made the boy taller than the full-grown gremlin man, but the years of Dietrich’s age were clear in his grey, scaly face.

“Hello, Dietrich,” I said, meeting his stare.

“Matilda Kavanagh.” He glanced at his nephew, then back at me, and I realized there was something shining in his eye. “You have brought Collin home to his family. How can I repay you?”

“I think we’re square. I’m sure that locator charm didn’t work for you, and you paid for it anyway.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and I realized the look he was giving me was rueful. It was the most animated I’d ever seen a gremlin’s face.

“You did not have him call his mother,” Dietrich said. “Why?”

“I dunno,” I said, rubbing a hand across my face. “Selfish pride, I guess.”

He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a laugh and nodded. “Collin, thank Matilda Kavanagh. We need to be getting you back to your mother.”

“Thank you, Ms. Kavanagh,” Collin said obediently. “You were friggin’ awesome!”

I laughed a soft, tired laugh and waved him off. “Go home and hug your mother, and try to stay out of trouble.”

That earned me a shy smile before Collin turned to leave. Dietrich hesitated and held out his hand. I didn’t know how successful I was at keeping the surprise off my face, but I took his scaly hand and shook it.

“Hey, Collin?” I said. I didn’t feel as though I’d done enough.

The boy turned to face me, his eyes looking a little tired but wired.

“I don’t know what you did, and I don’t care, okay? I’m sure whatever you did, those kids probably deserved it.”

Collin dropped his eyes to the floor, and Dietrich gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“But listen, don’t let them bring you down to their level, okay?” I continued. “I’m not going to tell you that they don’t understand you or they’re scared or whatever other bullshit grownups have been feeding you. Some kids are just jerks, and sometimes they grow up to be jerks. But just because they’re jerks doesn’t mean they get to turn you into a jerk too.

“Don’t give them power. I know it sucks, and ignoring them is the hardest thing in the world to do, but all they want is a reaction. When you give it to them, you give them power over you. The world is a messed up place, and even though you were the victim first, sometimes lashing out gets you in the end instead of them. Just…” I looked into his eyes when he lifted them. “Just try your best, okay?”

Collin swallowed, then nodded. When I turned, I saw the other kids and parents were looking at me. Everyone had gone quiet to listen to what I said.

“Good advice for everyone, I think,” one mother said, giving her daughter a kiss on the top of her head.

Heat rushed into my face, and I fought not to smile like a child embarrassed for being caught doing something. I didn’t have kids and I didn’t know what it was like to raise them, but sometimes it was hard to separate yourself and remember what it was like to be a kid. Really, it hadn’t been that long since I was one. Hell, sometimes I still felt like a kid. They needed to know at least one grownup understood them, and I was just glad I finally did.

We warned the kids to stay out of trouble and to try not to think about Krampus, but I didn’t know how many of them would listen to us. I mean, when you find out a monster is real, how do you not think about him?

When the four other children and their families were gone, all that was left was CJ, his family, the security guards standing just outside my door, and Detective Knoll.

“Ms. Kavanagh, I cannot begin to thank you,” Carl said, stepping forward while his wife clung to their son.

Their daughter was asleep on my couch, curled into a tiny ball, her arms wrapped around Pumpkin. CJ was clinging to his mom, totally unashamed of the tears on his cheeks. Right then, he looked a lot younger than he was. The poor kid was just a ball of emotions. I hoped they’d get him some help, because I didn’t think a little speech like I’d given Collin would do much for him.

“I’m just grateful you didn’t bring Althea and Cassandra with you,” I said, earning a genuine laugh from the mayor and an uncomfortable look from Knoll.

“I take it you’re not part of their coven then?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not every witch in the city answers to them.”

Ronnie finally came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on one of my towels.

“Interesting,” he said with a nod. “They did not make that exactly clear to me.”

“Is that why you brought them with you last time?”

“It is. They claimed that every witch answers to them.”

I bristled at that, but Ronnie spoke up. “They’re conniving, ladder-climbing liars. You’ll do better to take whatever they say with a grain of salt. Don’t let them claim power they don’t have. Not every monster in our world has horns and hooves.”

Carl nodded again, looking from me to her and back again.

“Yeah,” I said, “and not everyone
with
horns and hooves is a monster. A lot of them blend right in.”

“Unfortunately, they are the official representatives of the witch community,” Carl said.

“Well,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck, “maybe just keep it in mind that they don’t have as much control as they say they do. Nor as much as they’d like.”

Ronnie said as she came to stand beside me, “If it were up to them, there would only be one coven in the entire country, and they would be on the thrones.”

“Thrones? I thought only the Fae had a monarchy?”

Ronnie and I shared a tired chuckle.

“And don’t think every other community doesn’t resent them for it,” I said. “But no, we don’t have a monarchy. That doesn’t mean those two wouldn’t mind having a dual Queen-ship or whatever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he said. “But thank you, all of you, for bringing my son home. I hope you’ll forgive my behavior the last time we met.”

I held up a hand to wave off his apology. “If some monster had snatched my kid, I can’t imagine what I would do.”

“Right,” he said with a self-deprecating smile, the smile that won him the election and sent Dixon Fox back into the hole he’d crawled out of. “But I am sorry. Althea and Cassandra convinced me you were my only hope and that they could force your hand. I shouldn’t have let them twist my emotions so easily.”

“Something to keep in mind in the future,” I said.

“Well, thank you again. If you ever need anything, please know my office is open to you,” Carl said, shaking each of our hands.

“That’s not a bad offer.” I smiled, though it took some effort.

“That goes for all of you,” he said, indicating Joey and Ronnie as well. “You have quite a business going here.”

I glanced at Joey and Ronnie. Both of them grinned at me, but I didn’t say anything. Somehow we’d become something of a crime-fighting trio, our businesses mixing together naturally. I wasn’t sure how happy I was about that.

Carl stopped a guard on his way to the living room and scooped up his daughter himself. Pumpkin slid out of her arms in that boneless way cats have without even waking. I glanced around for Artie, but I didn’t find him. He’d probably already sneaked off to the bedroom, the selfish jerk. What I wouldn’t give to sneak off to bed and bar the door against the whole world for about twelve hours. I followed them to the door and closed it behind the mayor, his family, and their guards after warning them to use the service elevator to avoid the reporters.

“So,” Knoll said without preamble, “tell me everything.”

My shoulders slumped. “Ugh, don’t you want to spend Christmas Eve with your family?” I needed to get some sleep if I wanted to enjoy my holiday even a little bit.

“Yes, I do,” he said as he took out his phone and tapped on the screen with a stylus. “So if you don’t mind, let’s hurry this up, and we can all get back to our holiday.”

“I told you I hate you, right?” I stomped over to the couch and threw myself down, burying my face in the cushions. I reached for my grandmother’s afghan but didn’t find it, so I couldn’t hide under it.

“Mattie,” Ronnie scolded. She came into the living room and took the rocking recliner, leaving the hard-backed chair for the detective.

That seemed meaner than what I’d said. Joey jumped onto the back of the couch, crossing her legs and balancing perfectly as she propped her chin in her hands. She had so much energy that I just wanted to push her off the couch.

“So it’s just you?” I asked. “No one else to come and ask me all the same questions two more times and tear my apartment apart looking for evidence?”

“Just me, kiddo,” he said.

The term bugged me, but not nearly as much as “ma’am” would have, so I bit my tongue. “Fine.” I sat up, jostling Pumpkin and waking him.

He jumped off the couch, stretched low so that his stomach touched the floor, and walked over to Ronnie, where he waited for her to pick him up.

“What happened to his legs?” Knoll asked, his eyes bulging as Ronnie picked up the orange fur ball.

Joey laughed, rocking back and catching herself before she fell.

“Nothing,” Ronnie said.

“He’s a munchkin!” Joey said, rocking on the couch.

“Like a Corgi, but a cat, you know?” I said.

“I’ve never seen one of those,” he said. “My little girl, she really wants a cat. I bet she’d lose her mind over that one. Be a damn good Christmas present.”

“I know where you can probably still get one,” I said around a big yawn that distorted my words. “If you hurry this up, I’ll make a call and get you the number.”