Maudlin's Mayhem (Bewitching Bedlam Book 2), Page 2

  As I reached for the makeup remover, I swear, Bubba snickered at me. He pulled his paw back, then began to groom it as though he had no clue what I was talking about.

  “That cat is a menace.” Franny rose up beside me. As in, through the floor, to hover a foot above it.

  I jumped. “I told you to stop doing that! And Bubba’s not just a cat. He’s a cjinn.”

  Franny was the house ghost—or B&B ghost, now that I’d converted the place. And she was moody as all get out, always finding something to bellyache about. But over the past six months, I had actually gotten used to the depressed spirit and she had lightened up a little.

  I poured a little makeup remover on a cotton ball and wiped the lipstick off my face. “I haven’t seen you for a couple of days. Where have you been keeping yourself? You can’t leave the house, so I know you weren’t on vacation.”

  She shrugged. She was dressed in the dress she had died in—a sky blue muslin gown à la Jane Austen, over which she wore an ivory corset and a matching lace shawl. She was pretty in a serious sort of way, with blue eyes and blond hair spilling out of a messy bun.

  “Oh, this and that. I watched the gardeners plant the new roses from out of the library window. Thank you, by the way, for setting up the computer e-reader for me.” Franny flashed me a rare smile. “I just read a marvelous book by a Mr. Mark Twain. It’s called Tom Sawyer.”

  I grinned. I had been around during Twain’s time, and figured she would like some of his work. “Glad you liked it.”

  Franny loved to read. In fact, that was how she died. On a warm August day in 1791, Franny had been walking along the second-floor hallway, reading, and she missed the first step as she turned to go downstairs. She broke her neck in the fall and had been trapped here ever since. Franny had spent a long time alone until I had bought the old mansion. Those who could see her had run in fear until Aegis moved in. And he had pretty much ignored her. When I bought the house, I gave him hell for treating her like she didn’t exist.

  Franny loved to read, and she missed it most of all. So I had set up a spare computer in the library. I kept the computer on constantly, and the e-reader program was always open. I had programmed it to voice control and since Franny could speak as clearly as I could, she could command it. I programmed in some basic commands—Turn Page, Go to Page, Open New Book, Close Book. Now she could read to her heart’s content. Every few weeks, we’d go through the online bookstore and add a few new books for her.

  I finished with my lipstick and sat back. I was about as presentable as I was going to get for the morning. Bubba let out another squeak.

  “Yeah, yeah, Bub. I’ll feed you. Franny, come on down to the kitchen if you like. I have someone coming at ten, but if you want to talk…” I left it open ended. Franny resented any trace of pity, for which I didn’t blame her, but she also liked to chat. Granted, she was angsty as hell, but I couldn’t help but feel that I should treat her as one of my permanent houseguests. You didn’t just ignore someone because she had a chip on her shoulder about being dead and stuck in a house.

  She brightened. “All right. I can tell you what I found out about your guests—”

  I stopped in the doorway, glancing at her. “What did I tell you about spying?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know, but can I help it if I happen to be around when they don’t know I’m watching?”

  Shaking my head, I headed down the stairs, listening to her ramble on about Mr. Mosswood’s habit of rubbing his scalp with rose-scented lotion, and how Mrs. Periwinkle, a very old witch who seemed to have misplaced her marbles along with her late husband, had been trying to convince the grandfather clock to tell her where we kept the hidden treasure. What treasure she was talking about, I had no idea.

  AT TEN O’CLOCK, prompt to the second, Thornton Weston was sitting in my parlor. He was human and in his early thirties. He was also a fine-looking piece of man flesh. Five-ten, pale blond hair in a Euro shag, trim but not overly thin, with a wisp of a beard and deep blue eyes that sparkled when he said hello. He was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, but it was obvious he belonged in a leather blazer. I could easily see him driving some classy little number like a Jaguar or a Lotus. In fact, everything about him smelled like old money, so why was he applying for a housekeeping job?

  “Are you sure you’re interested in this job? It’s not very glamorous. You’d be cleaning the mansion every day. You won’t be responsible for laundry, except for the sheets and blankets in the guest rooms. We have three rooms for paying customers, a personal guest room, and my bedroom. You’d be cleaning the guests’ rooms every day, the other two bedrooms once a week. We have six baths—they need to be cleaned daily. The kitchen gets cleaned every day, and it must be spotless due to health code regulations. You won’t need to cook, but you may be called upon to wait tables occasionally. There’s the daily dusting and tidying things up in the living room, library, parlor, and grand ballroom. I have someone to wash the floors once a week and windows once a month, so you don’t have to worry about those.”

  As I paused, he shrugged. “I’ve had worse jobs. I’m not afraid of a little work.”

  “We have a maid’s room on the main floor, which would be your living quarters, and a butler’s pantry. You’ll eat in there. Room and board are included in your salary. I take care of Bubba’s litter box. Oh, and whatever you do, please don’t pet his belly.” I didn’t want to tell him that Bubba was a cjinn until I knew him better. There were people who weren’t above trying to steal the creatures for their own use.

  Pausing, I let the information settle. “So, are you interested?”

  “Definitely. What are the official hours?”

  Surprised, I said, “The job is full time, but since I won’t ask you to be on call 24/7 unless there’s an emergency, you’ll have Tuesdays and Wednesdays free. They’re our least busy days. We ask longer-term guests to waive daily cleaning for a reduced rate, so you only have to clean their rooms twice a week. Right now, we have two of them, actually.”

  “The job sounds good to me, especially the live-in part. I’m between apartments right now.” He flashed me an easy grin.

  I glanced down at the resume again. He had worked in a number of hotels in housekeeping, as a bellhop, and desk clerk, but his employment history was sketchy, especially for the past five years.

  “Why the gap in work the past few years?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve been in an abusive relationship and I finally got out after a bad breakup. I had to leave quickly. All I own are in a couple of suitcases, and I have nowhere to go. I happened to see your ad in the Crier yesterday and thought this would be perfect with my background.”

  As someone who had spent too many years in a bad marriage, I knew how easy it was to get suckered into a relationship that tangled you in knots.

  “Well, I have your number. Let me run your references and see what they have to say. I’ll call you by tomorrow.” I shook his hand and walked him to the door. As we passed through the living room, Franny popped out, took one look at him, and vanished.

  He paused, letting out a short laugh. “Let me guess. House ghost?”

  “Right. She’s disruptive at times, but overall she’s a good egg. We’ve adopted her.” I shook my head. “Sometimes it’s just easier to play the hand you’ve been dealt. She came with the property and so she’s part of the B&B.”

  “The ‘we’ you refer to… You and… Are you married?” He glanced around as though he expected to see someone else magically pop into view.

  It was my turn to laugh. “Not anymore, but my new boyfriend helps me run the place. I should tell you, just in case you have issues with the idea. I’m involved with a vampire. His name is Aegis and he’s the lead singer of the Boys of Bedlam, an up-and-coming band. You might have heard them down at the Utopia nightclub.”

  Thornton stiffened. “Aegis? The rock star vampire?”

  “That would be him.
But he has a heart of gold. Loves kittens and cupcakes. He bakes most of the goodies for our guests.” When I had first encountered Aegis, in addition to his gorgeous bad-boy self, I had come face to face with his private passions—kittens, jigsaw puzzles, baking, and reading mysteries. He loved Murder She Wrote. We watched a lot of re-runs.

  Thornton thought for a moment. “I guess it could be worse,” he said, reaching for the door. “I’ll wait for your call.”

  As I walked him down the porch steps, I found myself hoping his references would check out. Not only did he have experience, but he seemed personable and he could probably charm the pants off my guests. But then, as I turned to go inside, a large crow appeared on the porch railing and began to caw.

  I started to ask it what it wanted, but a shiver raced up my spine as clouds began to sock in, covering the pale blue sky. Within less than sixty seconds, lightning flashed, thunder roared, and I was soaked to the skin as the storm opened up. The crow let out a single echoing caw and flew away. Chilled to the bone, I turned and ran inside, wondering why I was suddenly frightened.

  Chapter 2

  SO, IT’S TIME for introductions. My name is Maudlin Gallowglass. My nicknames range from Maddy—which most people know me by these days—to Mad Maudlin, and the Mad Wonder. Remember that old folksong “Boys of Bedlam”? Also known as “Mad Tom of Bedlam”? Well, I’m the “Mad Maudlin” they sang about. And Tom was my boyfriend. It’s a long, colorful history that I’ll go into later, but let’s just say that I was known as one of the more powerful witches to come out of the UK during the 1700s, and I also happen to be one of the most famous vampire hunters in history.

  Yes, yes, I know the irony, I was a vampire hunter and now I’m bedding one. Well, actually in love with one, if I’m honest. It doesn’t make sense, but when you really look at life, not a whole lot does.

  Anyway, I’m Maddy, and I’m now the owner of the Bewitching Bedlam B&B. I live in the town of Bedlam, on the island of Bedlam, which is part of the San Juan Islands in Washington state, near Lopez and Orcas in the Haro Strait. My Bedlam is nothing like the Bedlam of the songs—that was a mental institution back in jolly old England, and if you were committed there, it was pretty much a death sentence.

  My Bedlam is a magical island filled with magical people. The PretCom community is strong here. While the city was founded by a group of witches a long time ago, plenty of Otherkin live here besides those of us with magical blood. Shifters and Weres are common, along with Summer, Winter, and Woodland Fae.

  We even have a nest of vampires, run by Essie Vanderbilt, the Queen of the Pacific Northwest Vampire Nation. Having a vampire queen on the island isn’t all that pleasant, especially since she tried to set me up to be killed. But there’s no way to prove it was her. Since Rachel, one of her lackeys and Aegis’s ex-girlfriend, took the fall for it, all I can do is keep an eye out. Luckily, all that’s left of Rachel is a pile of dust.

  Bedlam has a population of about six thousand people, and we also boast one of the greatest magical schools for witches—Neverfall Academy. If I was born during the current day, I’d give just about anything to attend there.

  Life’s a lot different for young witches today.

  When I was born, the witch hunters were rampant, searching for my kind to burn us at the stake, string us up, drown us. Torture was par for the course and we did our best to hide.

  Of course, most of those killed by the Inquisition weren’t really witches, but innocents who were disliked by their neighbors, or who had enough money to matter. Once branded a heretic, the accused land owner lost their land, their money, and most important—their lives. And the Church grew rich. Tom and I ran from them, always keeping a hop and a skip ahead. But the fires and the witch hunters followed us, raging across the continent and into England.

  Anyway, those are dark thoughts for dark days. I met my best friends back then—Sandy, who went by Cassandra, and Fata Morgana, who was even more wild than I was.

  After my Tom vanished, Sandy and Fata helped me hunt down and destroy the vampires who were feeding across the countryside. Then, finally, the fires I drove them out with ended up scorching my soul. After that, the three of us ran wild, partying, hanging with the satyrs and the nymphs. Finally, the madness dissipated and we moved on to new things and new lives. Fata disappeared into the mists, but Sandy and me? We stuck together, best friends forever.

  Eventually, as the decades rolled by, Sandy moved to Bedlam and I moved to Seattle. Then, a few months ago, she persuaded me to move to the island. I’m now High Priestess of the Moonrise Coven, a duty I consider sacred.

  So yeah, that’s my life. That and the Bewitching Bedlam. I bought the old mansion to rile my ex, but unexpectedly, I fell in love with it. And with its squatter—Aegis.

  Now, Maddy the vampire hunter is in love with a vampire, and the proprietress of a fancy-schmancy bed-and-breakfast. And you know what? I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

  “MADDY? MADDY!” SANDY bellowed out my name from the kitchen. I had invited her and Max—her new squeeze, a weretiger and the owner of a chain of clothing shops—over for dinner. Of course, that meant that I had placed a call to the best pizza joint in town and ordered four pizzas. I’d asked Sandy to pick up dessert on the way over. She carried in two cheesecakes—one New York–style cheesecake with raspberry topping, and one chocolate cheesecake.

  “What?” I glanced up at the clock. It was almost six-ten. Aegis would be getting up soon.

  “I can’t find the pizza cutter!”

  “Be right there!” I glanced over the shopping list one more time. Thornton was going shopping the next day and I wanted to make sure that everything Aegis had asked for was on there.

  Thornton had checked out. Even with the gap in his employment history, I had taken a chance and hired him the day after the interview. Now, I couldn’t imagine what I’d do without him. He was one hell of a housecleaner, and he had taken the inn in hand and not only was he keeping it in tiptop shape, but he had compiled a list of necessary repairs. He had been working for us for about a week, and already, Aegis and I had come to rely on him more than we wanted to admit.

  I put down my pen and hustled out of my office to join Sandy and Max. As I entered the kitchen, I caught them kissing.

  “Max and Sandy, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” I laughed as they broke apart.

  Sandy had met Max during the week after New Year’s. They had had a rather harrowing experience together, even as I had been trapped by an avalanche. But our misguided vacations hadn’t been in vain. The time had brought Aegis and me closer together, and Max and Sandy had found one another. They fit together in a way that I had never seen Sandy fit with anybody else.

  Max winked at me. He was a little shorter than Aegis, but he had wavy hair the color of wheat and his eyes were the color of dark soil. A scar ran down the side of Max’s face. I hadn’t asked him where he got it, and so far, he hadn’t volunteered the information. He routinely dressed in designer wear. Sandy, on the other hand, was wearing her usual yoga pants and crop top—she was lean and toned, as blond as the morning sun, and as rich as Max appeared to be.

  “Don’t bother us, woman, we’re busy.”

  “Yeah, well, get busy in a room, you two. No fornicating on my kitchen floor.” I winked at them. I motioned for Sandy to move aside. She was searching in the baking drawer for the pizza cutter. “That’s the wrong drawer. That’s the baking drawer. The pizza cutter is with serving pieces.”

  “You have a baking drawer?” Sandy stared at me like I was out of my mind. “Since when?”

  “Since Aegis. You know how much he likes to bake. I finally caved and let him arrange the kitchen the way he likes, since he does most of the actual cooking. We have a baking drawer, and a serving drawer, and a stirring drawer, and a cupboard for bake ware, and a cupboard for stemware—not the good crystal, which I keep in the china hutch. I told him he had free rein as long as I get to arrange the
bar.”

  Sandy laughed. “That makes sense. You lucked out, you know. Since you refuse to hire a cook, landing Aegis is the next best thing. The man makes a mean brownie.”

  “As long as his red velvet cakes don’t have blood in them, I’m good.” I opened a bottle of merlot and poured out four glasses.

  “I still can’t get over the fact that vampires can eat and drink. I never knew that before.” Max was slowly getting used to hanging around Aegis. They didn’t have a lot in common, but they were polite and kept searching for something to share.

  “Yes, but they never gain weight, and the food and booze don’t give them any energy. They need blood to actually recharge. Without enough blood, they’ll go into their predatory phase, and if they’re starved long enough, they’ll slip into a form of hibernation.”

  Max paused, then softly said, “Sandy’s told me a little about your background. If I’m not being presumptuous, how does it feel to go from vampire hunter to…”

  “To being the lover of a vampire?” The question was highly personal, but by now I was used to Max and he didn’t offend me. While it wasn’t something most strangers would be comfortable asking, I understood the curiosity, and I didn’t mind talking about it to the weretiger.

  “How much of my background did Sandy tell you about?”

  “Just that you’re the original Mad Maudlin and that you hunted vampires together with another friend.” Max frowned. “If I’ve overstepped, please—you don’t owe me any explanation. I wasn’t sure if the question was too personal.”

  “It is…very personal, but I like you, and Sandy obviously likes you. So…” I handed them their wine and slid onto one of the counter bar stools, crossing my legs as I cupped the goblet in my hand, swirling the wine gently in the glass.

  “I was once in love with a witch, a man named Tom. He was incredible, and oddly enough, he was a musician, too. Back in 1659, I met Fata Morgana. She’s actually the one who introduced me to Tom. He was a distant cousin of hers. We fell in love. The three of us traveled together all over what’s now the UK, and through Europe. We were chased by witch hunters a lot. We were good at what we did, and we developed a certain notoriety. On a trip to London in 1699, we met Sandy. We all hit it off really well, and she joined us on the road.”