“Sissy, I’m sca’aed.”
“Me too,” Angie said.
The Daddy stumbled, sweating, his magic sputtering as he started a personal ward for himself.
KitKit hissed and yowled to George the Stupid-Dog. Be ready.
To EJ, Angie said, “I learned how to do this in magic camp. You trust me?”
EJ threw his arms around her waist, knocking them to the floor, George under them.
KitKit watched as Angie reached inside and found her magic. She looped and twisted it with EJ’s. She made it strong. And then she added the other magic, the Angel magic that no witch should know how to reach. It glowed brighter than any magic anywhere.
The gonging got louder. EJ screamed.
The Mama’s magic went pure black. It hit the Daddy’s new, yellow ward.
KitKit leaped, claws out, cat-screaming, for the Mama. She hit the cloud of death magics and she stopped. In midair. The death magics, the ward, the gonging froze. The Mama froze, her eyes caught in the moment of terror and fury, blazing with dark magics. She didn’t blink. Nothing moved. Everything was still.
Through cat familiar head talk, KitKit had been told about time magic. About time bubbles. She and the Mama were trapped in a time bubble. And KitKit had to get them free.
KitKit was frozen in midair. Things were not right in the Biggers’ room. Things were very, very bad.
Angie said softly, “Safe.” Finally, finally she called for help on the cell phone. But it wasn’t for Lincoln Shaddock, who George trusted. It was another.
An unfamiliar vampire voice, soft and full of power to George’s beautiful ears, said “Angelina?”
“My Dark Knight. We have troubles,” Angie said.
Angie’s Dark Knight was Edmund. Edmund was a strong vampire like Lincoln Shaddock.
“Come save us,” she said. She smelled of tears and snot and fear. “Hurry!”
“The Everhart-Trueblood place is under attack,” the unfamiliar vampire said, his voice even softer, as if he was speaking to someone else. “Call the family. Angelina, are you in danger?”
“No. Because EJ and me are under a strong personal ward. But Mama and Daddy’s in their bedroom and they aren’t moving.” She whispered, “I’m afraid.”
George looked back. The Biggers were not moving. George did not know what to do except to guard. He scooted closer and smelled the pee-child-sweat-tears-fear on the littles. He licked EJ’s snotty face. It tasted good.
“I’m on the way,” Angie’s Dark Knight said. “Tell me what happened. Tell me what you see.”
“Our ward was being attacked from the hill in back of the house. Daddy said to make a small hedge, as strong as I could, for EJ and me. I started making it. Daddy made one for Mama. Then he started one for himself. Then Mama’s magics—” She stopped.
Carefully, the vampire said, “I know about the death magics, Angie. It’s okay.”
Angie sobbed. “Okay. Everything happened at once, Edmund. Mama’s death magics shot out. Daddy started his ward. I got our hedge up and it’s really strong. But now everything’s stopped, even the glowing thing in back of the house.”
“Explain ‘stopped.’”
“Daddy’s glow got dim and the gonging on the ward stopped. Mama’s standing at the window with her arms out and her bad magics stopped like a cloud. KitKit’s hanging in the air in the middle of a jump. Daddy fell and his head is bleeding everywhere.”
“How did you know I was close?” the vampire Edmund asked.
“I felt you in my blood.”
George thought the vampire sounded shocked when he took a breath, but he was too far away to smell, so George wasn’t sure. “I’m only a few minutes away, Angelina. Tell me about…about the dog. Where is he? Will…will he bite me?”
George snorted.
“No. George is under the hedge with us.”
“Tell me about him.”
“George is my Basset Hound and Mr. Shaddock gave him to me. I’m teaching him to fetch, but his legs are short and he keeps tripping over his ears. George. Not Mr. Shaddock.”
George snorted again, less happy this time. His ears were magnificent. Long and soft and floppy and beautiful. But Angie made up for it as she talked and talked about his beauty and his skills, and she stopped smelling so much of fear and started smelling of happy. She petted George’s ears and head and he snuggled close. Occasionally he opened one eye and watched KitKit in midair, wondering if she could hear him if he talked to her in cat talk.
KitKit? You there?
She didn’t answer.
The vampire said, “I am here, Angie. I’m going to scout the edges of the hedge, up the hill. I need to end our call to be silent. I’ll call you right back. Is that acceptable?”
“Okay, Edmund. I saw your car lights. Bye.”
George blew out his breath and closed his eyes, letting his nose and his beautiful ears work for him. It was impossible for this Edmund to be as a good a vampire as the Lincoln Shaddock vampire, but he might be good enough.
The vampire moved silently, like wicked KitKit when the cat was stalking George, planning to jump on him from some great height. Edmund’s vampire smell was rich and strong, and he wore the stench of blood. Not his own blood. The smells that came into the house were of the blood of others. Several other vampires. This was good. He had killed or defeated his enemies.
With his beautiful ears and his magnificent nose, George followed Edmund’s sounds and faint smells around the ward outside the house and up the hill.
After time passed, Angie’s cell rang, and she answered. The vampire Edmund said, “Angelina, let down your personal hedge, please, and come to the front of the house.”
“Ummm. I tried.” Angie sounded odd, the way KitKit sounded when George startled her. “I can’t make it go away.”
“We’s stuck!” EJ said. “And I gotta peepee!”
George smelled the pee on the witch human. How did Angie get stuck? George sniffed the ward. It stung his nose, but it was Angie’s ward so she should be able to get free.
This was bad, bad.
“Angie,” the vampire Edmund said, “do a seeing working and tell me if you detect a thread of your magics tying your ward to the hedge of thorns around your home.”
She whispered, “Ohhhh. I tied them together. Edmund, it’s worse,” she whispered.
“My protection ward has tails. One goes to the back of the house. Somehow, I tied my ward to the magic that was breaking through the hedge. And… Oh no. It’s tangled in Mama’s death magics and to angel magic too.”
“Angel magic?”
“Whoot!” Angie shouted, and George jerked. Bassett Hound ears were not made for witch children’s noises. “I got it! I can’t make it go away but I can move it. Me and EJ are scooting to the front door.”
“Angelina, wait. Take some pictures of your father and mother and send them to me.”
“Okay.” There were many clicks with the Bigger’s cell phone and then Angie and EJ started scooting toward the front door.
George grunted. Bassett Hounds, while perfection to look upon, had very short legs and his lower parts easily dragged on EJ’s blanket when scooting. Knowing he had no choice did not make it any better. He chuffed and whined, a very unhappy pup, but a very, very brave dog who was rescuing his witch charges. Lincoln Shaddock would be proud of him.
At last, they reached the front door and Angie opened it. The smells raced through. Vampire and night and bats and mice and a rabbit and many, many, many wonderful smells. George raised his nose and smelled and sniffed.