The Girl and the Clock Tower Murder: Pandemonium Cozy Mystery #2

Chapter 9

"We need to talk," Mahogany said after storming into the Haughty Hemlock.

Neema handed a customer their change and smiled apologetically. "Remember, use the cream twice a day for a week. If the boils don't improve, come back, and we'll adjust the formula."

The customer, a dark elf, glanced warily from Mahogany to Neema, one thin eyebrow cocked high on his forehead. He grabbed his bag and hurried out the door.

"That was very unprofessional, Mahogany. I was with a customer," Neema said, a deep frown marring her smooth forehead.

"I got my boots back." Mahogany pointed to her gleaming boots.

"So soon?" Neema cleared measuring spoons and herbs off the glass countertop from the last customer.

"Turns out Brian couldn't stop working on them. Something about an enchantment. He was just too darned compelled to wait."

Beside Mahogany, Guy folded his arms over his chest and glared at Neema.

"A spell? What kind of spell?" Neema asked. She began placing jars of herbs back on the shelves, diverting her eyes from Mahogany.

"A family spell. One that keeps the wearer safe." Mahogany raised her chin at Neema, her gaze cold.

"Family spell?" After setting the chamomile jar back onto the shelf, Neema's hand hovered in the air. She regained her composure fast enough, so it appeared as if nothing had happened to the untrained viewer, but to Mahogany, she noticed the falter and knew she had Neema against the ropes.

"Yeah. It's inscribed into the boots: To my daughter, Winter Woods from KW."

"That's very interesting." Neema moved past Mahogany to straighten the already neat receipts near the register.

"Oh, it gets better." Mahogany turned to face Neema. "The spell works on me, which is crazy since you abducted me from a random family in Boston unless I was wearing the boots when you stole me. Which would be odd for an infant."

Neema stopped her fidgeting and leveled her gaze at Mahogany. "What do you want to ask me?"

"Am I Winter Woods? Is my mother Kassandra Woods?"

"Yes," Neema said and started around the counter towards Mahogany. "Let me explain." She reached out for Mahogany, but the younger woman flinched away.

"So you're my aunt?" Mahogany stared hard at Neema. "This whole time, you've lied to me. Why? Why not just tell me that you're my aunt? Why the subterfuge?"

Neema let her hands fall, and she watched the gap between Mahogany and her grow to a chasm. "It was for your protection. I had to keep you hidden. No one could know we were related. Not after what happened to Kassandra and James." Neema shook her head. "I couldn't risk it."

"So, I'm not human. I'm Folk. Is that what you were doing to the milk the other day? You were adding something to it to suppress my magic." The dawning truth hit Mahogany like a tidal wave.

"I had to." Neema's gaze burned with something still left unspoken, something she yearned to speak aloud. "I had to do it to keep you safe."

"From what?" Mahogany stomped her foot like a child, the new boot heel thudding melodically on the tile floor. "What was so dangerous that you had to lie and drug me?"

Neema didn't answer, but her eyes softened.

"You've known for two decades how badly I wanted to learn about my family, but you kept that from me." Mahogany pushed past Neema and ran through the kitchen door and upstairs to her room. She filled her backpack with a few items and raced back downstairs.