Westerham Witches and a Venetian Vendetta
pushed my unease aside and whispered to him, “Want to bet on it?” Maybe being silly would distract me until we could go back to bed and look forward to what we were doing tomorrow.“Okay. I’m saying twenty-four hours.”
“I’m saying twelve.”
“What are the stakes?” Imani had approached. “I might want in.”
I shrugged. “Fifty pounds?” I could afford that, and it was a large enough amount that the winner would get excited.
She grinned. “I’m in. I’m saying thirty hours.”
I gave her an “are you kidding” look. “You sure?”
“She is on holidays. It might take a while for it to get the better of her.” Imani smirked.
Angelica folded her arms. “I’ll take this bet. I’m betting never.”
We all stared at her. Will smiled. “Do you even know yourself?”
She smirked. “Better than anyone else does.” She created a bubble of silence. “Lily, I don’t want you taking any photos. This isn’t important enough to risk your secret getting out, and we’re on holidays. I also don’t think the Italians would appreciate too much interference. We’ll let them do their investigation their way. I’ll offer to help, but I want you and Will to just enjoy the holiday.” My whole body relaxed—we didn’t have to get involved. Thank God. She waved us away and dropped the bubble of silence. “Go to bed. I’ll deal with the law enforcement when they get here. They can figure this out. We’re going to see the glass-blowing tomorrow. I still want you at breakfast at eight, so we can all enjoy each other’s company.” She looked at my mother, who’d been quiet this whole time. Did the crime bring back her own suffering and make her think of being imprisoned by Dana’s father? Surely it must. “You can stay. You’ve always had a good eye for these things. We’ll go up to the room shortly.”
My mother gave her a small smile. “Thanks. This one’s… interesting. It’s been a long time.” I figured Angelica was giving her an out in case she didn’t want to go to the room by herself. I kept my sigh to myself—seeing my mum still tormented made my heart sore.
I slid my arms around Mum and kissed her cheek. “Night, Mum. See you tomorrow.”
She squeezed me tight. “Night, my beautiful girl. Sweet dreams.”
Will, Imani, and I made our way back inside. Even though I’d lose fifty pounds, I hoped that Angelica won the bet. I’d be so upset if our holiday was already all but over. Seriously, what did a girl have to do around here to get a break? At least Angelica hadn’t asked me to take any photos. Maybe she was trying to spare me the grief on my holiday, or maybe she didn’t want to offend the local agents? Whatever the reason, I was happy not to be involved. I was here to relax, and getting involved in a murder investigation wasn’t high on anyone’s list of relaxing things to do on holiday. Now I just had to hope the Italian authorities solved this one quickly.
The next morning, we woke at seven thirty to voices coming from the courtyard through the open window. A glimpse outside showed two men—witches—and Angelica. The men must be from the PIB. The statue was still there. Were they going to leave that poor man there forever? Surely not. It wasn’t worth worrying about, though… well, as long as Angelica was coming to Murano—the island where the glass-blowing was—with us.
Thankfully, Angelica made it to breakfast, and then she came with us. Imani, Will, and I shared a surprised look as we left the hotel. I checked my watch. Only two-and-a-half more hours, and I’d lose the bet. Damn… sort of. There was also a yay that our holiday was still on track.
The boat trip to Murano was uneventful. I’d brought my Nikon, and I snapped a few shots along the way, including ones of my friends and family enjoying the ride. I even captured my mother’s radiant smile a couple of times. Since we’d saved her, she hadn’t been withdrawn, exactly, but whenever no one was talking to her, a faraway look glazed her eyes, and she sat expressionless. There must be so much going on in her head. I’d asked her a few times if she wanted to talk about it, but she refused. Maybe she just needed time to process. Goodness knew it had taken long enough for me to adjust to life in another country, and that wasn’t nearly as stressful as being held captive for ten years and losing your husband. Oh, and also losing your magic. Sadness leeched into my heart, and I sighed.
Will, who was sitting next to me holding my hand, wrinkled his brow. “What’s wrong?”
I blinked. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about Mum.” I gave him a sad smile.
He squeezed my hand. “I know. It’ll get better slowly. You need to give her time. She’ll find her way through it. Don’t forget, she was an agent, and she survived this long. She’s more resilient than you know.”
“I suppose you’re right.” The boat slowed as we approached our stop. I pushed thoughts of my mother aside—I’d waited so long for this holiday, and I was going to do the best to enjoy it. Plus, Mum was here, which was way more than I’d expected. I smiled. “We’re here!”
“Smile!” Imani pointed her phone at Will and me. I wasn’t in many pictures because I was usually the one taking them, so I leaned into Will and did as asked. “You two are so cute.” After a moment, she lowered the phone and looked at the screen. “I’ll text them to you.”
My phone pinged. “Thank you, lovely.” I opened the app and showed Will. “Aw, look at us.”
He grinned. “We look happy.”
“We do.” Warmth spread through my chest. I was actually in Venice, on the trip of a lifetime with the man of my dreams. So many cliches, but so good.
Lavender, who’d been sitting opposite us, folded his arms. “When