17. Seventeen #2
Ofelia didn’t hang around to see if he would keep fighting.
She didn’t care. It was a Creole cottage.
That meant it wasn’t very big. She moved from the living room long enough to look into the kitchen.
It was empty. Then she headed toward the bedrooms. Only one door was shut, and that was the one she blew open with her magic.
Sure, it was a bit dramatic. She didn’t care, though.
She strode through the splintering wood as if in slow-motion, stirring superhero music playing in her head.
The first thing she saw was Sully in the corner of the room. He looked to have been locked away behind the wall of a magical cage. The second thing she saw was a woman, long silver hair streaming, flying at her.
Ofelia swept out her arm and used her magic to throw the woman into a wall. Shirley — because that’s who it had to be — hit hard enough to shake the drywall.
“I told you,” Sully said with a grin. “I told you she was going to be mad, but you didn’t listen. Now you’re going to pay.”
The relief Ofelia felt when looking at her almost husband was overwhelming to the point where she needed a moment to get her head together. She looked him over, making sure he was okay, then let loose a guttural sob.
“I found you.”
“I knew you would,” Sully assured her. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms. There was still work to do, though. “I never had a doubt.”
Ofelia looked over at Shirley, who was still getting her bearings, and then moved to the cell to see what she could do with the wall. It was a simple spell. Ofelia assumed Sully could have gotten beyond it if he’d felt the need. Obviously, he’d decided to wait for her instead.
She pulsed magic into it, and the wall fell. Sully lunged toward her, then stopped himself. They still had to deal with Shirley. “I’m never going to let you go once I can hold you again,” he said in a low voice.
“Soon,” Ofelia promised. She smiled at him, clenched her fingers, then turned to Shirley. “You’ve been a very bad girl.”
“The worst,” Pascal agreed as he kicked Biff, literally, into the room.
Biff hit the ground hard and groaned. He didn’t make a move to get up.
“You’d better stay down,” Pascal warned him. “I’ll make it hurt 10 times more if you try to get up.”
Biff made a noise that sounded as if it were coming from an animal and then slumped on the floor, utterly defeated.
“He wasn’t much of a foe,” Ofelia mused.
“No, he was not.” Pascal focused his attention on Shirley. “I feel as if I know you and yet I don’t. I …” He cocked his head. “You have a sister,” he said finally. “Or you did.”
Ofelia shot him a sidelong look. “She has a sister?”
“I don’t remember her name, but the face is unmistakable.”
“You mean Laura.” Shirley practically spat the name as if it were profanity. “She’s gone. I made sure of it.”
“Yes.” Pascal absently scratched his cheek, then turned to Ofelia. “The sister is the one who gave Ellen the potion.”
Ofelia had to run the information through her head. “How do you know that?” she asked finally.
“Because I’m just finally putting things together,” he replied. “I always assumed it was a witch. She was a witch … and a banshee. I just never grasped the banshee part.”
“She was going around curing Shirley’s victims,” Ofelia guessed, catching up. “That’s the only thing that makes sense from what Ellen told me.”
“Yes.” Pascal bobbed his head. “And the banshees Ellen could sense were not of this … coven.” He looked around the house. “This was your mother’s house. She was thought to be a witch, too. I remember her now.”
“Do you want a cookie?” Shirley barked. “My mother was a great woman. My sister was not. Laura got what she deserved.”
“How long has she been dead?” Pascal asked.
Shirley didn’t answer. She was too busy being petulant.
“A long time, I’m guessing.” The vampire looked over at Ofelia. “The sister was the sort of banshee we should be embracing. Not this one. If I had to place a wager on the situation, I would guess that Laura was killed not long after she helped Ellen.”
The whole thing infuriated Ofelia to the point where she could barely contain her rage. Since rage — and petty jealousy — was at the center of what they were dealing with, she forced herself to calm down.
“She needs to die,” Pascal said. “You can’t let her live.”
“I know.” Ofelia nodded. “I’m well aware.”
“As for him, I suggest you give him to Jack as a peace offering.” He inclined his head toward Biff.
“There will be bloodshed in the streets today. As much as we hoped differently, I can easily assume that you can’t save the banshees she turned.
Their mindset has already been … altered … by this one. There is no saving them.”
Ofelia took a deep breath. She’d already come to the same conclusion herself, and as much as she wanted to believe Pascal when he gave her hope, she recognized that it would never really come to fruition. “The new breed of banshee will come, just not through this line.”
“Yes.” Pascal bobbed his head sagely. “I’m glad you understand.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s already dying,” Sully interjected. “She has a certain … scent … about her.”
“I smell it too,” Pascal agreed. “It’s decay.” He took a step forward. “Let me do this for you, Ofelia.”
She was taken aback. “Isn’t it my job?”
“No.” He shook his head. “None of this is your job. You’re too responsible for your own good.
” His smile was soft when he pointed it at her.
“You must go outside and make sure we have the banshee that infected Angelique. I will take care of this one and bring Biff out. I will even deliver him to Jack myself.”
Ofelia hesitated, uncertain. “Why?” she asked finally. “Do you think I’m too weak to do it myself?”
“No. You’re the strongest person I know. It’s your wedding week, though. You should not be dealing with this.” Now he broke out in a wide smile. “Let this be your wedding gift from me.”
“Or me,” Tansy said, appearing in the open doorway. She looked a little windswept but otherwise none the worse for wear. “He actually got you something else. I was just going to sign the card and pretend I shopped with him.”
Amusement had Ofelia’s lips curving. “I guess that sounds fair.” She cast one more look at Shirley. “Did you ever think of doing things a different way?”
“No,” the banshee spat. “I regret nothing.”
“And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” With that, Ofelia turned her back on the banshee and linked fingers with Sully. “Let’s go, huh? I want to make sure they have the right banshee outside so we can save Angelique.”
“Then we can get food and take it home,” Sully said. “We can eat it in bed and shut out the rest of the world until the day of the wedding.”
Death was about to take over the house, but Ofelia smiled all the same. She cast a look toward Pascal, who had offered her a party, and wondered if it would be rude to postpone the party until after they returned from their honeymoon.
Pascal gave her a soft smile. “The party can wait.”
Since that was what she wanted to hear, she nodded. “That sounds like an amazing plan to me.”
“I thought you would like it.” Sully pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. “I knew you would find me.”
“Always,” she said. “Never doubt that.”
“I will never doubt you.”
She sighed into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
He escorted her out of the room without looking back. Tansy and Pascal would be efficient but not cruel when taking out Shirley. That was the most either of them could ask for.
“Marrying you is going to be the best thing in my life,” he said. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Ever?”
“Oh, Ofelia, I wanted you before I even knew to want you.”
“That’s kind of schmaltzy.”
He laughed. “What can I say? That’s how I roll.”