Frankie B: Curse of the Blue Moon: Marina Witches Mysteries, #7

1

The private room at the Starlight Infirmary was strangely quiet. Stanley, the Marina Coven’s leader, was breathing, although only just. His daughter Gwen had done one heck of a number on him when she hexed him and stole his powers.

The crazy witch had done so both to bolster her own magical clout and to stop him from turning her back into a lizard. This was unfortunate, because she was a better one of those than she was a human being.

Frankie still couldn’t believe the elderly warlock had been sucked in by his odious offspring. He knew better than anyone how evil his daughter was. Releasing her from the terrarium and reversing the skinx hex he’d placed on her had been stupid.

And he’d paid the price, though, perhaps permanently.

Frankie looked at Dr. Marvin, who was standing on the other side of Stanley’s bed. Testing out her latest fashion accessory, she let her thoughts of his resemblance to a vaudeville performer run free.

His head snapped up, and he stared at her, with her unable to stop her hands from straying to her beanie. She pressed it closer to her skull, trying to keep the crinkle of aluminum foil to a minimum.

Despite his scowl, she knew the doctor wasn’t privy to her thoughts. If he was, he would have kicked her out by now. Another thing that wasn’t welcome in the establishment was modern medicine.

Even Hogwarts was cutting edge compared to this nod to Gothic architecture. There were too many fiddly bits for Frankie’s liking, or for maintaining a sterile environment.

Marvin the Magnificent crossed his arms over his chest and jerked his head in Stanley’s direction. Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Miss Bonny?

Frankie didn’t answer. She was too busy holding her breath while watching that top hat of his teetering about. Only after it had settled did she speak.

Of course! Aunt Selena went through the steps with me. It’s a simple enough process. Again, Frankie was glad of her tinfoil beanie. Yes, her aunt had explained the steps to her, and yes, it had all sounded simple enough. If she was honest, though, it had sounded too simple.

Zane, her significant merman, who was next to her, nudged her shoulder. Do you want us to leave you to it?

His suggestion didn’t surprise Frankie. Even with her special beanie stopping him from reading her thoughts as he usually could, Zane had picked up on her reticence. She wasn’t keen on performing in front of Dr. Marvin, nor any of the beings that made up the nursing staff.

Post-mortem was the best way to describe these ladies. Not as in they looked to be dead. Rather, it was as though they’d been assembled, courtesy of leftovers found in the hospital’s morgue. Patched up, and by someone with terrible sewing skills.

I would prefer to do this alone. There’s less chance of cross contamination, according to Selena.

Frankie was fudging the truth, because her aunt hadn’t exactly said it like that. All she’d said was that it could be easier to complete the transfer when you were alone with the recipient. Not that it was mandatory.

The doctor wasn’t happy about being asked to leave. They were, after all, in what amounted to his private hospital. Not willing to back down, Frankie crossed her own arms and returned his stare. She even raised an eyebrow in a move that was typical of Zane.

After an audible huff, the doctor stomped out of the room with one nurse shadowing him. Frankie suspected if the room had been fitted with a door rather than a curtain, he would have slammed it.

Zane’s departure was less dramatic. He simply kissed the top of her head, wished her luck and strolled out into the corridor.

The last to leave was the other nurse, although not before she’d wiped Stanley’s forehead free of sweat. While the creatures might be other-worldly, Frankie couldn’t fault their bedside manner.

Not until there was no sign of the others in the corridor did Frankie shake the tension out of her arms and legs. Normally she’d need to be careful of Dex with the Jack Russell more often than not under her feet. She was relieved that today he’d remained at the marina because of a certain Maltese Terrier.

Frankie had to admit that Hayley’s familiar was cute, with masses of silky white hair and a little pink tongue. It was the mutt’s eyes that creeped her out, with these a brown so dark they bordered on black. The best way to describe them was lacking soul. Dark pools designed to suck you under, and that worked a treat on Dex.

According to Zane, Hayley had taken the dog on after Mimi’s disappearance, when no other witch in the coven would touch her with a ten-foot wand. Frankie could understand why. There was something off about the Maltese, although she couldn’t put her finger on what.

Ready to get on with the transfer, Frankie stood with her arms hanging limply. She then twisted her head first to one side, and then the other, with the resultant cracks loud in the room. As relaxed as she’d ever be, she splayed her right hand on Stanley’s chest.

Thank the Goddess the evil witch responsible for this was in a place where she couldn’t hurt anyone else. Frankie couldn’t imagine inflicting this sort of damage on her own dad. Gwen, in her drive for freedom and power, hadn’t thought twice about it.

Unable to find what it was she was searching for, Frankie moved her hand. She moved it a couple more times, worried she was too late. Only then did she release the breath she’d been holding.

Stanley’s heart beat was feeble, with the occasional stutter that had her own thumping harder than it should. She put her other hand on his forehead, finding it damp despite the nurse’s earlier ministrations.

Without the luxury of time, Frankie hurried to locate Stanley’s powers inside herself, soon enough finding the small safe she’d envisaged to stop them merging with her own.

Breathing deeply, she focused on centering her own powers before daring to unlock the metal box. There was nothing hesitant about the release of Stanley’s magic. Rather than traveling down her arms and into his body as she’d intended, his powers flooded her. The sensation was incredible. Incredible enough that it took all her willpower to remember they weren’t hers to keep.

Frankie enjoyed them for a second or two before gritting her teeth and forcing them where she wanted them to go. It was nowhere near as simple as her Aunt Selena had made out. Eventually, though, she had Stanley’s energy streaming down her arms, through her fingertips and into his inert form.

What she wasn’t expecting was the demon essence she’d taken from Mimi Merriweather all those months ago following hot on its magical heels.

The last thing Stanley needed was to be flooded with the powers of that demon-borne succubus. He’d suffered enough when he was married to the woman.

Oh, no you don’t, you evil cow! You’re staying right where you are, muttered Frankie under her breath.

Then, using every bit of her Wereall power, Frankie dragged the demon essence back into her own body. It didn’t come willingly, instead kicking and metaphorically screaming every inch of the way. At the last second, Frankie yanked her hands away from Stanley, trusting she’d pulled them free in time.

She then ran them over herself, checking to see if she could pick up on anything amiss, or even missing. No, so far as she could tell, she was good.

To be doubly sure everything was as it should be, she waved her hands back and forth above the coven leader. It was a challenge to avoid physical contact, with her hands magnetically drawn to him. So powerful was the pull that it had the muscles in her arms straining.

Unable to pick up any demonic powers lurking in his compact frame, she dragged her hands back down to her sides. Her relief was such that she dropped into the chair next to his bed, leaned forward and rested her head on the crisp cotton sheets.

Her scalp immediately prickling soon had her sitting bolt upright. Wow, those succubus powers of Mimi’s were bound and determined to find their way inside the coven leader. That was so not happening.

While some might consider her strange for wanting to hang onto the remains of Mimi Merriweather’s powers, she had her reasons. First, she didn’t know what relinquishing them would do to Stanley in his weakened state.

Second, and perhaps of more importance, was that she wasn’t sure how their loss would affect her own powers. For too long, she’d lived with pathetic and unreliable magic. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in Hades she was returning to that state willingly.

She filed the experience away for when returning Calico Jack’s powers to him. A protective ward would surely help, because the last thing the world needed was her granddad imbued with the essence of that succubus. He was shady enough without that sort of top-up.

And Frankie suspected not just any ward would do, it’d have to be something special. It might even have her dusting off her mom’s enormous book of magic. Not that there’d be any cramming or transfer of powers happening soon.

Frankie didn’t have a clue where her grandparents were, or even when, for that matter. Anne Bonny and Calico Jack had disappeared through a Wereall portal, and she hadn’t had time to go looking for them.

Actually, that was a lie. She had; she just hadn’t bothered. They were a pain in the rear end; and not just part of the time, ALL of it.

Frankie was mulling over how lousy her luck was to be related to them when she became conscious that she was being examined. Stanley was awake and appeared surprisingly alert.

How are you? Are you okay?

Her enquiry as to his health had been general on purpose. She wasn’t sure if he’d have sensed the remains of Mimi flooding his system, or not. If he hadn’t picked up on it, she wasn’t spilling the beans, or essence, or whatever.

I feel surprisingly well. How is Mimi?

Frankie’s breathing hitched, resulting in a coughing fit that had one nurse peeking through the curtain at the doorway. Frankie held her hand up, stopping the creature where she was before waving her away. Not until the woman had ducked back into the corridor did Frankie speak to Stanley.

Mimi? Why are you asking about Mimi?

Confusion clouded Stanley’s face. His words when he spoke were halting. Mimi? I meant Gwen. Did I really ask about Mimi?

Frankie nodded dumbly. Could it be Stanley having Mimi on his mind was thanks to him hosting the woman’s magical remains a couple of seconds ago? Or was it down to him having had his brains scrambled by his disloyal daughter?

This saw Frankie faced with the very question she didn’t want to have to answer. Despite the sadness in his eyes telling of him expecting bad news, it didn’t make it any easier for her to break it. After yet again going over the various responses she’d come up with, she opted for the least convoluted.

Ah, Gwen had a little run-in with the Wereall and they drained her of her, ah, powers.

Actually, this was an understatement. After Frankie reclaimed Stanley and Calico Jack’s powers from his daughter, Frankie’s Aunt Selena stripped Gwen of every remaining ounce of energy.

Gwen’s empty shell had then been incarcerated in such a way she’d never again see the light of day. Over-kill for sure, but Frankie knew firsthand the woman’s ability to rise from the ashes.

The nasty piece of work was a veritable Phoenix on steroids in that department. But with Stanley’s health still hanging in the balance, there wasn’t a chance Frankie was going into full details.

Stanley’s brow creased as he came to terms with his daughter being stripped of her magic. That’s unfortunate, but to be expected. When may I see her?

Frankie was alarmed to note the coven leader had gone from looking sad and worried to expectant.

That he was peering at the curtain, and the corridor showing through the gap, gave her the impression that he thought Gwen was also at the infirmary.

Frankie was still wondering what to say when Stanley sighed deeply.

I still can’t believe I let her manipulate me, he murmured, more to himself than Frankie. When she was in that terrarium, she seemed so... repentant. A father wants to believe the best of his child. His words trailed off, leaving Frankie desperate to fill the void.

Ah, yeah, I’m sorry Stanley, but she’s not here. She’s being held at All Hallows Keep.

Stanley’s gaze drifted away from the doorway, eventually settling on Frankie. But she’ll be released soon, won’t she? Without her powers, she’s no longer a danger to our society.

Oh, she’s definitely not that, muttered Frankie to herself, before continuing. I’ll check with my Aunt Selena and find out the release date.

The one thing Frankie knew was that it wouldn’t be soon. Even if the Wereall running the supernatural prison decided Gwen had done her time, they wouldn’t be able to release her. Not with the hex Frankie had placed on the evil witch’s cell.

The guilt was enough to have Frankie staggering to her feet and backing away from the bed, while wiping her hands on her jeans. Meantime, you take care of yourself and concentrate on getting better. I’ll check back with you as soon as I can.

Having tossed this empty promise at him, Frankie left before he could pin her down on when she’d get back to him. Out in the corridor, she found Marvin lurking along with one of his nurses.

Rather than risk being overheard by Stanley, Frankie dragged her beanie off and stuffed it in the back pocket of her jeans. She