Crap. His brother died on Zane's birthday. That is major, major suckage.
"Where is their daughter, Zoë? She's mentioned in the article."
He looked up, focusing on the window to my left. "She's at boarding school. She came to live with me for a while. I think she blamed me in some way. She's only eight. I worry about her all the time. I wonder if she'll ever be happy again. I want to know if she's feeling okay."
"I could help you." I don't know why I said it. Maybe because he was so forlorn and I could feel the love he had for his niece. He genuinely cared for the child.
"How?" The shadows eased from his face and he looked hopeful.
"If you have something of hers, I can tap into her mind. I can get an idea of how she's doing. I won't be too intrusive, just kind of a checkup."
He leaned forward. "You can actually see what she's thinking? I thought you felt things, emotions. I had no idea. That's brilliant."
"Yes. But please don't tell the world. Okay? It's not something I broadcast."
A wicked grin spread on his face. "Can you tell what I'm thinking now?"
I snorted. "I don't have to read your mind, you pervert. I can tell by looking at you. Now stop it and find something of Zoë's for me." If I don't know someone well, something tactile helps me find them faster.
He left for a few minutes and came back with a small stuffed monkey. "She sleeps with this when she's here."
Handing it to me, he paused. "Can you really do this?"
"Zane, just give me the damn monkey." I took it from him and closed my eyes. Zoë's elfin face came into my mind. So sweet. A tiny pug nose, long lashes against her cheeks. Sound asleep. I gently nudged her dreams. And I must have gasped because Zane grabbed my arm.
"Bronwyn, stop. What's wrong?" He held on tight. I shook him away.
"Give me a minute." I let the dream play out. She saw her parents happy, talking about a party, but she couldn't go.
"Please Mummy, I promise to be a good girl."
Her mother touched her cheek. "
Zoë, you're always a good girl. It's just that this is a grown-up party and Uncle Zane's house can be a little wild. I know it's hard for you to understand. But you'll be so much happier here with Mr. Tuttles and Nanny Bee
."
"
No, no Mummy. I want to go. I can be a big girl, I promise
." Zoë cried out as her parents hugged her good-bye.
"
There's my good poppet
." Her father smoothed her dark bangs from her face. "
We'll bring you back a special surprise. Perhaps something for you and Mr. Tuttles to play with
."
Through the large window she watched them pull away. She squeezed Mr. Tuttles, the large stuffed elephant, close. "
Stupid heads. They can just go to their stupid, stupid party. I hope a big monster eats them
."
Then the tears came and even more so when Uncle Zane came to talk with her. Her mum and dad weren't coming home. They were eaten by a big monster, and it was all her fault.
I opened my eyes and told Zane what I'd seen. "She blames herself for her parents' death. Oh, that poor baby. Sadness and such grief. I haven't ever felt anything like it."
Well that wasn't true. When Sam lay dying in the hospital I experienced those emotions too. He'd died more than once on the day he was attacked, and I took the responsibility of it all onto my shoulders. I'd felt like hell. And it was more than any child should ever have to deal with. I couldn't stop a tear from slipping down my cheek. I jumped up and grabbed a tissue.
"Why did you send her back to boarding school?" The words were more scalding than I meant. "I'm sorry, it's just obvious she's grieving for her parents."
He shrugged. "It was what she wanted. I kept her here for the first month. She wouldn't talk. Nanny Bee could barely get her to eat. A difficult situation all the way around. I wanted to take her on tour with me. I thought that might get her mind off of things, but she kept saying she wanted to go back to school. The counselors I spoke with said it might be best, considering that's where she felt the safest." His voice broke. "She's such a strong little tyke. I had no idea.
"I should go and get her and bring her home. I can't bloody well stand this." He jumped up and paced.
I touched his arm. "Hey, calm down. You've been doing the best you could in a really horrible situation. I don't know a damn thing about raising a child, but I do know that it isn't easy. Everyone who does it seems to screw up somehow, yet most of us turn out fine." I sighed. "Hell, that didn't sound as helpful as I meant. Maybe she could come over for the weekend?"
"Yes, and I'll call Nanny Bee. She'll know all of Zoë's favorite things." He grabbed me and kissed me on the mouth. "Thank you. I know that's not appropriate. But so far this week you've saved my life and have possibly given me a way to get through to my Zoë."
I scrunched up my face. "Okay, but if you kiss me again I'm going to pop you one."
He stopped on his way to the door and turned around. "Oh, that's funny." Then he left.
Jerk. I was serious.
Tuesday, noon
Spells: 13
Wards: 15
Charms: 5
I've set up protection spells and wards everywhere around Zane's property, including his vehicles, and made him a talisman to wear around his neck or put in a pocket. The amber slows when evil is near.
There's just one problem: Until someone actually tries to harm him, I can't tap into the evil that is after him. The warlocks from the other night didn't leave anything behind. If I hadn't been bourboning it up at the club, I might have thought of grabbing at least one of their cloaks.
Doesn't matter. Zane's decided we're going out tonight. The man says he can only stay cooped up for so long. I find it difficult to understand how anyone can be bored with a thirty-room mansion, but then I'm not a grotesquely rich rock star.
So the big plan is to do a little shopping this afternoon in London. Can't say I really mind that, though it is more difficult to protect charges in large cities where so many people are hanging out.
If I were really honest though, another attack would help me ferret out who's behind this crap. So either way, it's win-win. Besides I just happened to notice on the Internet that Harrods is having a huge sale. I hope we can get over there. Zane has upscale boutiques in mind, but we'll see.
I need some basics. I'd only packed for one week in New York, and nothing for the beach. If Zane's bad guys don't show themselves, I may be here a while.
7:30 P. M
.
London
We're at Zane's house here in London. It's much more modern than what I expected. Lots of clean lines, dark wood and white furniture.
Except in my room, which is red and yellow. Sounds horrible, but it isn't. Wouldn't have it in my house, but hey, I'm not one of the world's most famous celebrities.
Speaking of which, today was actually fun. We did hit the boutiques. Most of which had clothes that were, well, let's just say not exactly my style. I did find one pair of jeans that make my ass look like a supermodel's. Maybe not
that
great, but better than usual.
I also found a black leather jacket with lots of inside pockets. Those come in handy when I'm trying to carry around a bunch of charms or other magical utensils. Of course, I won't be able to wear it for a few months because it's so hot. But that's okay.
Now Zane, on the other hand, dropped twenty grand at Lithos. On four pairs of leather pants and some boots. The pants are custom fit and all different colors. I never realized how buff he is, but I guess he has to stay in shape to run around and jump like he does onstage.
Then he dropped another fifty thousand at Harrods. He bought clothes, toys for Zoë, jewelry. Oh, my God. I'd never seen anyone spend so much cash so fast, and I've shopped for years with my mother. She's a pro. I don't know many English professors who are obsessed with the latest from Prada and Michael Kors, but my mother is.
But she has nothing, and I mean nothing, on Zane. He's generous to a fault, though. There was a little girl staring at a stuffed bear as big as she was, and he bought it for her. A two thousand dollar toy. Her mother protested until Zane worked that charm of his.
"Lovely woman, the child obviously needs the bear." He took her hand. "Look how it speaks to her." As if on cue the child hugged the humongous toy. I swear the bear smiled. Totally creeped me out.
"Now, that child simply can't be deprived. She needs that toy, and it needs her. And if you let her have it, I'll leave ten tickets for you and your friends at the will call for the concert next month."
The woman gasped and blushed. "Oh, oh. I'm sorry. You don't have to do that. I just didn't want to take advantage of your kindness. I—Well, thank you, Zane. She'll treasure it always."
We walked away, and Georgette made notes in her book to pay for the purchase.
I like Georgette. At first I thought she was a bit of a doormat, but it's quite the opposite. She sort of keeps Zane in line. Well, she lets him spend his money of course, but just when it seems he might slip off into the dark side she pulls him back.
Hard to explain, but I'm glad he has her.
She's kind of cute with her charcoal bobbed hair, eyebrow ring and bright red lipstick. I heard Zane mention she had a beau, but I don't know when she'd see a lover. She's on call twenty-four/seven. Anytime Zane needs something, she's there.
Oh, and the sunglasses. The man bought five thousand dollars' worth of sunglasses. I think it would have been closer to ten thousand, but Georgette whispered something in his ear. He shook his head and told the saleswoman he changed his mind.
Anyway, he wants go to someplace called the Supper Club. He promises food, dancing and lots of fun. We'll see. I noticed something about him today. The more money he spent the happier he became. The day began with him in a foul mood. I wondered if it was from our talk last night, but I didn't ask.
Maybe that's how he buries his pain, by being a shopaholic. We all have our vices. Mine happen to be blowing up people, and binging on Sno Ball cupcakes from Hostess.
What the hell's that buzzing sound?
8 P. M.
Witches who are rolling their eyes: 1
That was Zane making weird noises outside my door. I can't believe that giant goober. He had leather pants made for me to wear tonight, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. He also gave me a cute little black lacy top. It's V-necked and backless. Shows a great deal more skin than usual, but hey. And then there are the shoes. There's no way in hell I can walk in these.
I've worn Christian Louboutin shoes before, thanks to my mother, but these are extraordinary. They're leopard print pumps. And I can't believe I'm doing this, but damn if I'm not going to try and wear them. Now if I can just get these damn pants over my hips.
Zane swore the leather would stretch. We'll see.
3 A. M.
Drunk witches: 1
Okay, I have to stop dancing because that leads to drinking. Which wouldn't be such a bad thing if the drinking were water but it isn't. That horrible Zane totally exploited my love for bourbon. I don't know the name of it, but it's the smoothest shit I've ever had. I mean, whooooo. That first glass went down and all the tension left my body.
We did dine at the club. Nothing too out of the ordinary, although people here really seem to love lamb. I can't get into it.
Ick. Bourbon burp. Just thinking about that poor baby lamb is making me sick. Or maybe it's the six, no eight glasses of that wicked bronze liquid.
So, for dinner I had gazpacho and chicken with giant mushrooms. Maybe they were portabellas, I don't know. It was good. All that crap about English food is just that, crap. It's pretty damn great as far as I'm concerned.
Then we danced. Had to work off all those calories. At first it wasn't so easy with the heels and leather pants. Finally, I just kicked off the shoes and cuffed my pants. I'm sure I looked quite the sophisticate.
Ack, another bourbon burp. Nasty.
I was so tired and we left. Then the cameras. I'm fairly certain I've lost part of my eyesight. Seriously. Blinded by the light. Hey, isn't that a song?
Anyway, we made it back to the red and yellow room. Oh, man. Now it's making me dizzy.
Note to self: Do not look at wallpaper when drunk.
Oooooh. Bathroom.
That was disgusting.
'Nother note to self: Bourbon, bad, bad, bad.
How the hell am I going to get out of these damn pants?
2 P.M.
My head hurts. Have I mentioned that bourbon is the devil's brew? We should bring back prohibition—Hell, I know better than to do this to myself.
I mixed a few greens with a real Coke, and I'm waiting for the herbs to kick in. I hate Zane. I saw him outside getting ready to take a swim in the pool. I'd go out for some sun, but I'm chafed. That's right boys and girls. Falling asleep drunk in your leather pants can lead to skanky skin the next day.