“I don’t wanna be nice. But”—she sniffled—“I can be nice.”
I stood and grabbed up KitKit in one hand and helped Angie over the mess of her broken door with the other. In the great room, Angie, with huge tears racing down her cheeks, walked slowly over to the two vampires. They watched her come with strange lights in their eyes, and I realized that human parents didn’t allow their children anywhere near vamps. Human children, and especially witch children, were surely rarities in their lives. Angie stopped about six feet away, inspecting them. To Jerel, she said, “You’re not wearing a sword. You got one?”
“Yes, little witch child. I have a sword.”
“Can you use it good? Well?” she corrected before I could. “Can you use it well?”
“I can. I am a swords master as well as a master cabinetmaker.”
“You get to protect George and fight off the bad guys.” To Holly, she said. “Here. George is scared. It needs you to hold it close and pet it. Like this.” Angie demonstrated, one hand stroking the pot.
Holly knelt on one knee and extended his hands. Grudgingly Angie placed the teapot in his hands. Holly gathered it close, holding it as Angie had, and petted it. Angie let out a sob and raced to me, burying her face against my capri-clad thighs.
I pointed to the door and the vampires both bowed, so vampy formal, and departed, closing the door quietly. I watched and as soon as they reached the end of the drive, I raised the protective wards and pulled Angie to me on the couch. At the door to the hallway, Little Evan was hugging the jamb, crying in sympathy with his big sister. I held out a hand to him too, and we all four snuggled on the couch, my children, my unfortunate not-familiar, and me.
An hour later, as I was tucking a sleeping Angie back into bed, I heard another ward ding. I had a very bad feeling when I looked out and saw the same two forms at the end of the drive, illuminated by the security light. With trepidation, I went to the toy box and looked inside. The teapot was nestled into a corner.
I knew my daughter was strongly gifted with power, and she was probably capable of calling the pot back to her, but I hadn’t felt any kind of magical working in the house or on the grounds. Which meant the teapot had come back on its own or under another’s working. It might be a danger to us all. As if it were made of dynamite instead of fired clay, I lifted it from the box and carried it out onto the front lawn, to within four feet of the ward and within six feet of the vamps. Who now looked like what they were—dangerous predators; unhappy, dangerous predators.
“Do you taunt us with the return of our master’s teapot?” Jerel asked.
“No. It came back on its own.” Both vamps blinked, the twin gestures too human for the bloodsuckers. “It’s heavily spelled and seems to have a will of its own. I’d like to try an experiment. I’d like to drop the ward, hand you the teapot, and see what happens.”
“You did not call the teapot back to you?” Jerel asked.
“No. My word is my bond.”
Jerel nodded once, the gesture curt.
I dropped the ward, stepped to the vampires, placed the teapot in Jerel’s hands this time, and stepped back. The ward snapped back into place. Within thirty seconds, the teapot disappeared. “Not me. Not my magic. Certainly not my daughter’s magic.” I let derision enter my tone, because no witch’s gifts came upon them before they reached puberty. Except Angie’s. And that was a secret. A dangerous secret, to be protected as much as my children themselves.
The vamps looked from me to each other, and back. “What do we do now?” Holly asked.
“You will break this spell,” Jerel demanded.
“Tell me the tale of the teapot. And how the Master of the City knew it had appeared at my house. I’d be very interested in that one.”
Holly’s eyes went wide—human wide, not vamped-out. “That never occurred to me. Where did it come from and how did it get here, and how did our master know of it?”
“Right,” I said. “You go back to the vamp master and ask him those questions, because if he wants his teapot—or whatever it really is—back, I’ll need to know everything to break whatever spell is on it.”
“We will be back by midnight,” Holly said, excitement in the words.
“Wrong. I have a family and you two have intruded enough on family time tonight. You go back and chat with your master. I’ll see you an hour after dusk at Seven Sassy Sisters’ Herb Shop and Café.”
“Your family business,” Jerel said, letting me know that my entire extended family could be in danger because of the blasted teapot.
“Tomorrow,” I said, and turned my back on the vamps. Secure behind the strongest wards that Big Evan and I could create, I walked slowly back to my house and shut the door on the bloodsuckers. And leaned against it, trembling. I was in so much trouble. I had less than twenty-four hours to break a spell on a weird teapot that was clearly far more than a teapot. No wonder Lincoln Shaddock wanted it, whatever it really was.