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Once the kids were in bed, with Comet resting flat on top of Nica’s bed, Robert strode to the window to keep watch. Abbie pulled a chair between the two small cots.
“Come,” she called with open arms.
Klaus appeared, heavy enough for her hands to sink onto her lap, and wafting a scent of ancient history, aged paper, and dried ink. Bedtime reading from this Grimm Tales was a routine for them, and as good as reading a fairy tale. Often, it was more interesting, since these were true stories that Abbie’s ancestors had lived through.
Abbie enjoyed these sessions as much as the kids and Robert. “Alright, what story should we read tonight?”
Jimi’s eyes were already closing, so she doubted he’d be awake long enough to hear even a portion of one tale.
Wide awake, Nica said, “Should we check again about Granny Chan’s whereabouts? Could Klaus have found her by now?”
“The book will alert me if he finds her,” Abbie said.
“Ask what she was doing this morning,” Robert said. “That might help inform us about what she was working on before she disappeared.”
“Grand idea.” Abbie closed her eyes, focusing her energy on Granny Chan’s activities this morning.
The children’s bedroom grew quiet as Abbie mentally connected with Klaus while recalling details of Granny Chan’s home. On the wall, there’d been a photo of her looking cheerful and excited. Not at all like the woman Abbie had become acquainted with lately. The smiling Granny Chan in the photo didn’t look like the witch who suspected Grimms or the woman who fought with her neighbor.
She looked like a grandmother who’d gifted her beloved granddaughter with a powerful witch’s broom. The healer who’d helped Talin’s aunt. And the sweet person who agreed to take care of a Grimm’s children.
Those instances of Granny Chan’s pure kindness during moments of crisis created a light surge within Abbie. When she opened her eyes, Klaus’s cover flipped open of its own accord, and pages rustled before settling on a story. It thrilled her to see words on the page this time. She leaned forward to read aloud, excitement and dread making her palms clammy.
Granny Chan woke early. On her way downstairs, she heard footsteps outside and rushed to the window to look out in time to see Judith drive away.
Sighing with disappointment at having missed making up after their row yesterday, she went to the kitchen and made a quick breakfast of pancakes with eggs.
Eating her meal, she reviewed her notes on the spell she planned to cast today while waiting for the Grimshaw children to arrive.
Beneath the text was a drawing of the Chan kitchen showing all the items gathered to cast a spell, arranged neatly on the counter with the elderly witch standing ready to light a candle.
The picture then morphed into a street scene from the east end of London. It was night, but Gill Street, where Old Chinatown was located, was hard to mistake. The place had a reputation for odd happenings and spooky events. Back then, Abbie had put those rumors down to superstitions.
She’d attended a heart attack victim on that street the day before...before B-day. The day the double-decker bus with her teammates in it blew up. The prior day’s heart attack call had been a fairly routine one, with her friends by her side, and ended with a life saved.
That section of London had a vibrant immigrant population with an explosion of curry houses and hot-pot specialists. It was usually busy and noisy.
The scene Klaus showed her tonight looked different, though. Women wore bell-shaped skirt dresses. Men were in suits and skinny ties. Old-fashioned cars cruised down the road.
Wait, was that Judith crossing the street? No, not Judith. Someone so similar that Abbie would have done a double-take if the woman passed her on the street. This lady’s dark hair was short and curly. She strolled along the pavement with what must be her beau, judging by the Asian gentleman’s besotted look and his possessive hold on her hand.
“Miss Grimshaw!”
Abbie started and looked up to find Robert watching her with a worried frown.
Jimi was fast asleep, as was Nica. Comet didn’t stir from the little girl’s bed.
“What’s the matter?” Abbie whispered.
“You stopped reading and grew quiet,” he said. “What happened after Mrs. Chan cast the spell?”
“What spell?” Abbie glanced down and spotted a brief paragraph on the page. The next two pages were blank. She skimmed the writing, remembering reading it, yet she also recalled witnessing that street scene as if she had been there.
What the book had shown her was Granny Chan’s younger self. She felt certain she’d seen a scene from the elderly witch’s past. Why show her that? And why hide that picture now?
“Granny Chan’s spell,” Robert said. “You were telling us about it.”
“It doesn’t mention what happened after the spell,” Abbie said.
“Unfortunate.” Robert came over. “Time to turn in. You appear half asleep.”
“Yes,” Abbie agreed, stretching her arms to work out the kinks on her shoulders. What Klaus had shown her brewed an interesting idea about what happened to Granny Chan. It edged on the fantastical, so she wanted time to consider it alone for a bit.
She closed the book, walked over to Nica to tuck her under her blankets, and gently kissed her forehead. She then did the same to a sound-asleep Jimi.
Robert faded away. She’d likely find him by her bedroom window, keeping guard. Knowing he would be there to watch over her while she slept always imbued Abbie with a comforting sense of peace and security.
With Klaus tucked under her arm, she turned off the overhead light and was about to close the door when movement caught her eye. From atop Jimi’s bed!
Pulse hammering in alarm, Abbie clutched Klaus like a weapon. Raising it, she approached the bed.
Something shifted over the covers.
Abbie was ready to strike down when a pair of pleading brown eyes caught her gaze. Then a black and white shape came into focus.
Figg!
Luckily, he was of normal size tonight, not the giant ferocious beast she dealt with last year. It was still the same vicious mutt that had killed an innocent last autumn, though. An immortal Roman used this dog to murder any who interfered with his plans. Abbie had interfered with his plans twice now. Had the villain sent the dog to kill her in retribution?
She’d need something tougher than a heavy book to deal with this supernatural hound. She dropped the book on the bed and instinctively whipped her Grimm cord out of her right finger. The furry fiend leapt to the floor with a yelp, escaping her reach.
The children sat up with a start.
Then Jimi blinked sleepy eyes, spotted her chasing after the dog, and cried out, “No!”
Nica screamed and yelled, “Kali, help us!”
At that call for reinforcement by his sister, the foolish boy flung himself off the bed and onto Figg. “Don’t hurt him, Abbie. He’s good. He’s my friend.”
Figg looked as shocked by Jimi’s stout defense of him as Abbie.
While Jimi had the hound in place and distracted, Abbie sent her cord to snag the dog.
Comet swept up to the ceiling then, whirling around, sending sparks flinging around the room, and scorching Abbie wherever one landed on her skin.
“Ouch, stop it,” Abbie ordered, trying to control the hound now wiggling his way under the boy’s bed.
Abbie snagged Jimi and pulled him off her target.
A deep growl sounded nearby, but it hadn’t come from Figg. The dog whined pitifully while Jimi, hanging by his PJ top from Abbie’s raised hand, stilled as they all zeroed in on the true source of danger.
Her cord’s connection to the dog allowed her to share in Figg’s shudders as angry growls resounded around the room, warning a wild beast approached.
Robert appeared beside Abbie, laying a firm hand on her shoulder. That gesture offered a wealth of support. “Well done, Miss Grimshaw. You’ve captured the blackguard.”
“Not yet,” Abbie said, her gaze searching. That unnerving roar was all too familiar. Kali often rode a fierce tiger. Last time, she’d transformed Yousef into a ferocious Bengal. “Turn on the lights, Robert.”
The room brightened as the overhead light came back on. The bedroom door flung open then to outline Judith standing with a glowing, extended baton ready to strike. “What’s happening?”
Despite that raised magical rod, dressed in Abbie’s PJ top that hung loosely over a pair of shorts, the constable didn’t pose as forceful an image as she might have hoped.
Abbie ignored everyone but Nica. She was rarely at ease in Kali’s presence, but the demon-eating goddess in hunter mode terrified Abbie. “Tell Kali to stand down. We’re safe.”
Judith released a relieved sigh and lowered her baton that now looked perfectly normal. Robert released his grip on Abbie’s shoulder. Nica, however, remained alert, the whites of her eyes bright.
Not ready to call off her goddess protection yet. It heartened Abbie that Nica could summon Kali so easily. All of her friends had come armed to a fight. Even Robert’s grip had been all too real on her shoulder.
In a trembling voice, Nica asked, “Is Figg’s master here?”
The thought hadn’t occurred to Abbie, but now she whipped around to see if that immortal could have accompanied the dog. Maybe they needed Kali after all.
From beneath Jimi’s bed, the furry intruder covered his eyes and let out a whine.
Abbie breathed in relief, taking that gesture as a, “No,” he hadn’t brought along his murderous master.
“No,” Jimi said, squirming until Abbie released him. He dropped to the floor to pet the pup. “He sometimes sleeps with me, Abbie. You said we can’t afford a dog, so I didn’t snitch.”
At that faulty rationale, and that Figg had been visiting her home without her knowledge, a foul-tasting reprimand bloomed to fill Abbie’s mouth. Seeing the little boy’s concern as he gazed up, she swallowed down that lecture. Instead, she sat on the floor and gently pulled him away from the hound. She wanted to say, I was so scared for you. What came out was, “I love you, Jimi.”
He giggled. “I love you, too.”
Nica scrambled out of her bed and ran over to join them. “I told Kali to go away. That you saved us, Abbie.”
“Excellent. In case I’ve been lax in saying it, I love both of you. I’m glad we’re together now and forever.”
“Me, too,” Jimi said.
“Me, three,” Nica added fervently.
“What shall we do with him?” Robert pointed to Figg.
“He can’t stay,” Judith said. “If his master didn’t send him, he will discover his pet missing and come in search.”
“Miss Chan is correct,” Robert said. He paused then, as if he recalled a past event. “It is what I did when a python went missing.”
This was the first time he’d mentioned the serpent that had killed his daughter. Abbie regretfully pushed aside that intriguing conversational opener.
Now they’d allayed the threat of Kali arriving precipitously, Figg was their immediate concern. With a tug on her Grimm cord, Abbie said, “Figg, time we had a chat. But let’s take this conversation elsewhere.”
The dog stood, licked Jimi’s face, and followed Abbie with a woe-is-me expression.
“I’m coming, too.” Jimi followed them to the door.
“And me.” Nica trailed after her brother.
The kids wanted to be in on what Abbie did about the dog. That suited her. She hadn’t planned to leave them behind anyway, now that Nica had summoned Kali to this room. Also, she wanted to know about the draw between Jimi and the dog. “One of you bring Klaus. We might need him.”
Lips pressed tight with disapproval, Judith stepped aside to allow Abbie and her kids to exit. Robert didn’t look thrilled either about the kids’ inclusion in deciding what to do with Figg.
So, two “Nos” to being lenient with Figg and likely two “yesses” to helping the dog out. Which meant the deciding vote would fall on Abbie. So be it.
They arrived at her bedroom. It included a sitting area. Nica ignored the chairs and, after straightening the untidy sheets Abbie hadn’t bothered to make up on her rush to get to Granny Chan’s this morning, crawled onto Abbie’s bed. Jimi followed the dog.
Robert took his post by the window with Comet standing on the window’s other side. Once again mimicking his stance, Comet stood to attention with bristles spread.
Judith remained by Abbie’s closed bedroom door, arms crossed, and legs spread, blocking Figg’s only escape route. Then her frowning glance fell on Comet and she relaxed her stance, leaning casually against the door and crossing her legs. Was she worried the broom mimicked her instead of Robert?
Abbie hid her bubbling amusement at that concern and shifted her favorite chair by the cold fireplace to face Figg.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“To be safe,” Jimi answered.
“Please allow Figg to answer,” she said. The cord’s connection to the dog should allow them to converse, and if past practice proved reliable, her cord would broadcast the conversation to all present.
She flicked the cord to catch the dog’s attention. “Answer me.”
The pup glanced over to Jimi and then back at Abbie. That said it all. Jimi was the draw. She resisted the temptation to ask her cord to pull more information from the dog as she had once before. Then, the immortal had sent Figg to kill. Tonight, the dog had come of his free will. Or so she hoped.
Abbie tilted her head, studying the pup. His black and white fur appeared ruffled. There were mud patches on his paws. His tail remained tucked under him. Something was odd about his face, too. His eyes didn’t move naturally. One eye didn’t move at all.
She held up her left index finger. The dog focused on it. Slowly, she swung her hand to the right and then to the left. Abbie lowered her hand, her sympathy rising. “What’s happened to your eye?”
The dog blinked once and stared at her in silence.
Jimi petted him and then kissed his head but didn’t offer an explanation even though Abbie suspected he was aware of what had happened. Either the boy was obeying her instruction to allow Figg to speak, or these two had grown close enough to keep each other’s confidences.
Nica scrambled across Abbie’s bed to lean over the bottom edge. “What’s wrong with Figg’s eye?”
Jimi hadn’t even confided with his sister? Abbie sat up straight, her right biceps involuntarily contracting as her hold on the cord tensed. Troubling.
Robert and Judith approached for a closer view, leaning over to gaze into Figg’s eyes.
Abbie pointed at the dog’s right eye. “That one looks real, but I sense it’s not. The socket feels empty. His right eyeball was there last autumn.” Figg had been memorably frightened and alert during their last encounter. Her cord had held him in place, his undivided attention on her when he mentioned that his immortal master was approaching outside the fair’s tent.
Somehow, irrespective of his injury, between then and now, Figg had learned to trust Jimi. If she were to form a relationship with this dog, then he had to learn to trust Abbie, too. So, she waited for him to tell her how he’d lost his eye.
Figg lay down his head and whined.
Her cord translated his soft sounds as, “Bad dog.”
Jimi stroked his fur in gentle reassurance. “Good dog.”
Figg lifted and laid his head over the boy’s lap and whined again, his tail wagging forlornly. “Cold in Figghouse.”
Judith frowned and then, lips quirking in a smile, she asked, “Does he mean doghouse?”
“The question is,” Robert said, straightening, “could our enemy have put a spell on that false eye to spy on whatever Figg sees?”
Abbie reared, her fear spiking. Were they being watched?
Judith, who’d knelt on Figg’s other side, ran a hand a few inches above the dog’s head. “There is magic all over this dog. Probably what’s kept him alive for centuries. The spell on the eye, however, is a simple glamor. I don’t sense a specific trail leading away from Figg. It’s for show.” She clenched her fist and withdrew her arm, glancing up at Abbie with an angry thirst for retribution. “We could use that fake eye to watch the immortal.”
“Dangerous, Miss Chan,” Robert warned at Judith’s suggestion. “If our enemy learns that we’ve cast a spell on his dog, he could track the magic back to us with deadly consequences.” His worried gaze settled on Jimi. “Also, the dog might not survive the discovery.”
Jimi embraced the dog. “We mustn’t hurt Figg.”
“No,” Abbie agreed. This poor animal had survived as a brutal rogue’s tool for centuries, as he used and abused him. Unfortunately, ending that state of affairs wasn’t her call. Endangering him was.
“We won’t do anything that might harm you.” Abbie leaned forward to stroke Figg’s forehead.
He jerked away.
Sitting back, sadness swept over Abbie for this poor pup who didn’t trust anyone would be kind to him. Except with Jimi. Abbie’s gaze settled on the boy. Jimi had lost so many people and things he loved. Now she had to take Figg away.
Figg growled, and Abbie shot her eyebrow up at that threatening tone.
Her cord’s translation came across as, “She ruined my soybean deal.” The cord added, He relays what his master said.
“Soybean?” Robert said, sounding shocked.
From where Jimi had dropped the book, Klaus slid across the floor and flipped open to show Abbie a scene. The black-haired Roman immortal spoke to the soybean farmer’s son. He didn’t look as if he’d aged at all in hundreds of years. The eerie sight gave Abbie the quivers.
“Wow,” Judith said, slumping back on her legs. “The immortal was behind that fiasco.”
“Livid with Abbie,” Figg added.
“Why?” Judith asked. “Why would your master care about those soybeans?”
“Magical ingredient.”
“To do what?” she asked, frowning. “He’s a mage. What would he need with fae magic?”
Exactly what had crossed Abbie’s mind. Along with, had Klaus been listening to this discussion? Curious.
The dog remained silent.
He likely didn’t know why his master wanted this ingredient. Abbie doubted the immortal would treat Figg as a trusted confidant. Would he even have one? If not, that spoke of a lonely, distrustful life.
“The soybean’s magic affected time,” Judith mused. “It sped up growth. If our immortal transposed the magic to another spell...oh...” She stopped, her hand covering her mouth.
“What have you surmised, Miss Chan?” Robert asked.
“Manipulating time is essential for crafting an invincibility spell,” Judith answered in an awed voice. “If you can affect time, you can control outcomes. It’s the holy grail of spell casters. Since their inception, Taoist sorcerers have been seeking it so they can cheat death.”
“He’s already immortal.” Abbie frowned in confusion. “Hasn’t he achieved that?”
“An immortal can live forever,” Robert said, “if he’s not killed.”
“Master fears death above all,” Figg supplied.
“Are you saying we can kill this immortal?” Abbie asked, astounded.
When Kali said she must eventually face and defeat her enemy, Abbie had thought at best she would confine him somehow, or at worst avoid him.
This changed all of her calculations.