Paxton grabs my hand. “Tammy,” she whispers. “Something’s here.”
Her fingers are ice cold.
Then Karen screams and stumbles back, pointing a shaking finger at the coffee table. “The drawing,” she rasps. “It... it moved.”
I whip my head around and see it.
The crude face on the college-ruled paper is turning. Slowly. Deliberately. Its red eyes blink.
Once.
Twice.
Karen lets out another choked scream and collapses on the loveseat. Her husband guides her down with one hand while scooping Emma up with the other. “We’re going upstairs,” he announces. “She’s not sleeping alone tonight.”
They vanish up the stairs, and suddenly it’s just Karen, Paxton, and me in the room with the paper that shouldn’t move but did.
Karen backs away from it. “What kind of sick joke is this? Is this some kind oftrick?”
“It’s no trick,” I say gently, carefully stepping toward the table. “I think... something dark is attached to this drawing.”
Karen looks like she might faint.
I crouch by the table, place my hand over the paper but not touching.
I close my eyes.
Yes, there’s a strange pull here.
Like a beacon.
“We at Moon Investigations,” I say softly, standing again, but avoiding looking at the drawing, “specialize in... unusual cases. Paranormal disturbances. Hauntings. Curses. Demons. Monsters. That kind of thing.”
Karen sways on the couch, then steadies herself on the cushions.
“I’m not just some dumb kid playing detective,” I add. “I’ve inherited some magical abilities that help me fight these things.”
Karen’s eyes widen. “Magical? Are you a witch?”
I nod. “Yes and no. Not a dark watch. No black magic or anything. And I wouldn’t say any of this if I couldn’t prove it.”
She narrows her eye and steps back. I don’t blame her. “What do you mean,prove?”
Paxton steps back, too, knowing what’s coming, but I keep things relatively tame. Taking a deep breath, I open the valve, so to speak, and let the magic flow through me. As it does, I lift slowly from the ground. Just a few inches, and hover above the carpet.
Karen stares, mouth open, backing away toward the far wall. “Oh. My. God!”
I lower myself slowly.
Paxton stares at me like I’m her favorite superhero. “What?” I ask her. I mean, she has legit seen me turn into bears, panthers, birds, and a mouse.
“You have fairy wings, Lady TamTam,” she says with a slight bow. “I’ve never seen them before.”
She’s not wrong. The wings aren’t physical. They’re energetic. But they do the job. Yeah, they were something Queen Maple said would come about, eventually. I had hoped, of course, because who wouldn’t want fairy wings? But they had been a long time coming. Until I had discovered them not terribly long ago in my bedroom one night. They just wanted to appear. I couldn’t stop them.
“Ah, no one’s called me ‘Lady TamTam’ in a while.” I ruffle her hair.
“So, to keep count. Mom has her dark wings. Ant now has glowing angel wings. And you have fairy wings. I didn’t know I was adopted into a family of bird people!”
