Jane Davey's Locket Read online

  “Hell Cruise is offering an adventure on the high seas experience. Not exactly a selling point,” I muttered.

  “You didn’t really expect me to book something with mundane folk, did you?” Grandma’s lip curled.

  I kept reading, and my brows crawled up my forehead with each new line.

  Hell Hub Travel is delighted to offer a new kind of pleasure cruise specially designed for the non-mundane inhabitants of the accessible planes.

  Expect magical turndown service. Each room comes with its own maid/butler. Freeing them will result in replacement fees.

  We offer catered meals* for even the most discerning palate. (*Please advise us ahead of time of special dietary requirements. Extra costs for those requiring fresh, vegan, mundane blood.)

  Numerous pools to choose from: boiling hot springs, mud, gelatin, and even a lava tub.

  Onboard activities include shuffle head, midnight yoga, and massages and facials from a jar or spat straight from the source.

  Exciting destinations. Each cruise through the Bermuda Triangle will feature numerous ports of call such as Mermaid Bay, Siren Isle***, Atlantis (if it’s not lost again) and if the seas decide to tip us over, an up-close look at DJ's Locker.

  ***Please note we are not responsible for the loss of any male companions or family members who choose to follow a siren’s song.

  Relax in our varied staterooms, from windowless for the daylight-challenged, to the opulent Princess Suite with an ocean-view balcony.

  I paused in my reading. “I don’t suppose you doled out for a suite?”

  “Bah. Why spend all that extra money on a room we’ll be using only for sleep?”

  “You’re a cheap old witch,” I grumbled.

  “The stingiest,” she agreed with a nod and a smile. “I can’t wait to relax on deck. Maybe spell a few pool boys to rub my feet and grease other parts.”

  “Grandma!” I blinked at her language. “What happened to being a lady?”

  “Really, Jane, get your mind out of the gutter. Nothing wrong with asking for help for the hard-to-reach spots.”

  “But you implied…” Sometimes, dealing with my grandmother could confuse. One minute, she made pot cookies and wore halter tops with hoop earrings. The next, she acted like G-strings were the most sinful thing ever. Which didn’t explain the drawerful she kept.

  “And this is why you need a husband. Look at how your mind keeps wandering in dirty directions.”

  “Not my fault. Blame Mom and Dad. Hard to be a prude when you were conceived in front of a crowd.”

  “Really, Jane. Must you bring that up?” Grandma tsked as I reminded her of my parents’ courtship.

  My dad, being a pirate, had kidnapped my mother. They’d fought. My mom had refused to give in, which in turn drove my father wild. He had her chained in his room when he left the ship to get drunk in a tavern.

  An enemy of my dad’s snuck on board and stole her. My father then went to her rescue and slaughtered everyone in his way. Mom said it was the most romantic thing ever.

  Things got a little hot when they finally reunited. As in, on the deck, practically on top of the bodies of Dad’s enemies, in full view of his crew. Who then all died because they’d seen Mom naked.

  My dad has a jealous streak.

  Probably why he didn’t mind them living at the bottom of the sea. Fewer living men to ogle my mother. And no kid around to insist they wear clothes and keep their door shut when they had sex, which came after the rule I instituted about no sex outside the bedroom. An edict my parents hated. I sometimes wondered if my dad had gotten his ship sunk on purpose so I’d stop cramping their style.

  “How did we get onto the topic of sex, anyhow? We were discussing my locket.”

  “Find the locket, and you’ll find your mate.”

  “I’d rather not. And as for the cruise, you’re going alone. I’m staying right here.”

  “You have to come. I already bought you a ticket.”

  “But I don’t want to go. Can’t, as a matter of fact. Some of us have a job, you know.”

  “No, you don’t.” Grandma’s lips curved into an evil smile. “Didn’t you hear? You were fired.”

  “Since when?”

  My cell phone rang. A glance at the display showed that it was work. I answered. Listened to a flat voice informing me that my services were no longer needed, and hung up. I arched a brow at my grandma. “What did you do?”

  “I knew you’d try and use that awful job of yours as an excuse to stay home.” That awful job being that of a bank teller replete with a steady paycheck, benefits, and paid holidays. “So I called the bank manager and told him that you said wildly inappropriate things to me and asked to see my knickers.”

  “Grandma!” The urge to throttle her overwhelmed me to the point where I tucked my hands behind my back. “I could have asked for time off.”

  “You wouldn’t have.” Spoken sagely by someone who knew me very well. “Now that you find yourself with free time, go pack.”

  Arguing further would prove useless. Surely an opportunity to push her overboard would present itself.

  2

  Jane: Ahoy, matey! I need a drink.

  Despite myself, I was rather impressed by the sheer size of the ocean liner, Sushi Lover, just one of the many cruise ships available from Pleasure Industries. Multiple storied, it appeared utterly normal to the casual eye. A glamour, of course. When I coasted through its boundary, riding a stiff breeze, I got to see the details that set it apart from the mundane ships, such as the giant harpoon at the stern just in case a mighty ocean denizen came after us.

  The dock had a line of people boarding. Suckers. Grandma and I landed our brooms on the top deck, alighting in the pentagram painted to guide those of us arriving by air. The North American and European witches stuck with brooms, a few of them styled in the popular Quidditch trend, but the fellow who’d glided in a moment before us had chosen to use a rug. We moved out of the way just in time for a zooming armchair.

  Grandma sniffed at the sight of it. “Young’uns nowadays have no respect for the old customs.”

  “Looks more comfortable than a stick up my ass,” I mumbled.

  “Then you didn’t use enough lube.” The suggestion was thrown to me by a demon who strode past. He spent too much time ogling my grandma, who didn’t notice the leering at all.

  There was a young lady on hand providing valet storage for our brooms, and an ogre for our baggage, which was only a small bag each. Brooms weren’t exactly ideal for carrying much.

  The day proved to be overcast, cloudy with a chance of rain. It matched my mood. Not on purpose. But when I scowled, the whole sky scowled with me.

  Already, the forecast in Seattle where I lived, showed sunny skies for the next few days.

  Enjoy it while you can because I’ll be back before you know it. Since a young age, my mood tended to affect the weather. Of late, it had been soggier than usual.

  We weren’t the only ones arriving. A portal to Hell, resembling a dark rip midair with flame-colored edges, spilled more than a few denizens on board, including more demons with intricate horns and red-eyed gazes.

  The golden arch across from the portal had no traffic at all. Snooty angels tended to keep to themselves.

  Another circle on deck catered to the winged sort, like the gorgeous dark dragon who alighted, stirring up the air and whipping my hair in all kinds of directions.

  Showoff.

  A ghoul was assigned to show us to our rooms. He led us to an elevator, and as it moved between the floors, he gave us a brief introduction. “Welcome aboard the Sushi Lover, captained by none other than Adexios, Charon’s infamous son.”

  “Er, isn’t he the one who lost the oar?” I whispered to Grandma.

  “Yes. And tipped a few boats. Don’t worry. This thing has engines, and even if it tips, you should float despite what those Puritans in Salem used to think.”

  The reassurance missed the mark.


  The guide continued. “The upper deck, which we’re passing now, contains the club lounge for our exalted suite guests.”

  “Which isn’t us,” I muttered.

  “The two floors beneath that contain staterooms, a gym, and access to the outdoor decks with the main saltwater pool. Then we have the dining level with the ballroom. More floors with staterooms. The morgue with a variety of coffins, followed by the water level.”

  “Water level?” I couldn’t help but query.

  “For the aquatically inclined.”

  “Why not just swim alongside the ship?” I asked.

  The ghoul didn’t even blink at me, he just kept talking. “The kitchens serve food all day long. You can order room service for an extra cost.”

  “Not happening,” Grandma chirped. “I brought snacks.”

  “The evening meals will be followed by music and dancing.”

  “I’ll be in bed.” When I wasn’t working on my resume, apparently.

  The route to our room proved Grandma’s cheapness. We weren’t just buried in the ship, I could hear the engines rumbling as if in the next room, and I was less than reassured by the lack of windows once we got to our cell.

  I did a quick circuit. Quick because the room was just that: tiny. I gaped at my grandma bouncing on the bottom bunk.

  “You get me fired, curse my locket, drag me on a cruise, and this is our room?”

  “Got a smoking deal, too.” Grandma grinned. She snagged her bag and began to rummage. “You should change.” Advice given as the old woman pulled out a string bikini.

  “I’m fine.” A collared t-shirt tucked into a tennis skort. Sensible running shoes. My hair tightly braided and pinned in a crown atop my head.

  “Then at least find a drink.”

  “Don’t tell me you splurged for the beverage package.”

  That sent Grandma into a fit of laughter. “Oh, dear Janey. A witch never pays for a drink. You should always charm someone into buying it.”

  “You know I’m not good at that kind of magic.”

  “Not magic. Charm. As in being nice to someone. Smiling, maybe flirting a little. Batting your lashes.”

  “Have you met me?” I stared at my grandma, who sighed.

  “You could try to be nice, you know. It’s not that hard.”

  “That would involve talking to people. Not a fan of it.”

  “You talk to me,” Grandma pointed out.

  “Because someone needs to say ‘no’ to you once in a while.”

  “You need friends, Jane.”

  “I have friends.”

  “Who are all married. When was the last time you saw them?” Grandma asked softly.

  I crossed my arms. “A while. They’ve been busy.” With their husbands and children and lives that didn’t have a lot of room for a single friend who didn’t babysit or have anyone young enough to make a playdate. “Just because they got hitched doesn’t mean I have to. A woman can have a fulfilling life alone. I mean, look at you, single and rocking it.”

  “Age is a number. With the proper state of mind, you can be young forever.” She primped her hair, the white curly mass wild, and since I’d seen her last, streaked with blue. It matched her bikini.

  “This better not be a singles’ cruise.” I did not need a bunch of horny guys trying to get into my pants.

  “No. This is even better. There are about five weddings planned for this trip. Which means, groomsmen galore.” Grandma clapped her hands, her expression alight with excitement.

  “Oh, heck no. I’m out of here.” Dread had me grabbing my bag and heading for the door. One step. It took too long.

  A horn blared, and the floor underfoot began to rattle alarmingly. Hard enough my teeth vibrated.

  “And off we go! Try and pretend to have fun.” Grandma shoved past me.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To check out the boat.”

  “What about me?”

  “What about you?”

  “Aren’t we going to hang together?” I asked.

  “I love you Janey Waney, but you need to make some friends and loosen up. Because I will be, and I can’t have you cramping my style.”

  With that final statement, off she went. Leaving me alone. Which was fine. I’d brought a book. I stuck my hand into my bag to find it. The inside proved as messy as my dresser. My hand sank deeper, my arm submerged to my elbow, fingers touching a bunch of stuff, including something moist and mushy. Then…success.

  I pulled forth my battered copy of Yellowbeard, which Dad claimed was a knock-off of his life story. A favorite of mine. I glanced at the bunk bed and vetoed it for reading.

  Going up on deck seemed a better plan. I was on a cruise ship, after all.

  Leaving my room, I marked the door with magic so I’d find it again. It took a few wrong turns before I made it to a door leading outside, just in time to see the shore receding—close enough still that I could jump and swim.

  Do I really want to be on board a ship with a bunch of single men looking to get laid?

  A grown, modern woman knew how to say no. Or then again, I could partake of any offerings, no strings attached, and save the Earth by conserving batteries.

  The choice was mine.

  The salty tang of ocean air teased my skin with familiarity. How long since I’d sailed?

  Too long.

  To my surprise, I found myself relaxing in the ocean air, the hum of the ship different than my father’s schooner with all its fancy sails. Maybe when we returned, I’d look into getting the Janey out of dry dock. The boat my father had gotten me deserved better than to be grounded.

  A voice broke my reverie, deep and growly. “Watch where you’re going.”

  “Piss off.” Spoken in an accented voice. A peek over the rail showed a fellow with long, braided locks, a battered hat, and a tailed coat sauntering off, leaving a big guy with a dark crown to resume leaning over the railing. A reminder of the other passengers on board.

  As if sensing my stare, the fellow turned around and looked up at me. He started to smile. Not interested, I turned away and moved to the far side of the deck when I felt the tug.

  Ping. A pluck that strummed a spot over my heart. I glanced at my chest. Nothing there, yet I could have sworn that something had poked me.

  Magic. And it wanted me to go somewhere.

  As if I’d obey. My lips pressed tight. Being contrary by nature, I moved in the opposite direction and claimed the lounge chair farthest from the others—not that many were out here yet.

  I tucked into my book, sinking into the familiar relaxation of a favorite read while at sea. When things got too noisy, I changed locations and heard a familiar voice shout, “Jerk!”

  I recognized that flowered muumuu. “Grandma, please don’t tell me you’re harassing this gentleman.”

  Her lips pursed. “I am not harassing Shax,” she huffed. “Merely indicating that I’m unavailable for meals since we are traveling together.”

  My brows arched as I punctured her lie. “Since when are you hooking up with me for food? You told me, and I repeat, ‘I love you Janey Waney, but you need to make some friends and loosen up. Because I will be, and I can’t have you cramping my style.’”

  “That’s something a whore would say.” Grandma lifted her nose and sniffed.

  I found her excuses intriguing. Just who was this fellow with his silvered, dark hair and square jaw? I eyed him and his short horns. “Your name…” I tapped my lip. “Sounds familiar.”

  “Nope. Not one bit. Let’s go check out shuffle head.” Grandma grabbed me by the arm and dragged me away before the demon could reply.

  As if I’d let the old witch off that easy. “He’s cute. You going to have dinner with him?”

  “Most certainly not.”

  The vehemence brought out the naughty in me. “Just going to skip right to the drinks and his bed. Efficient. I like it.”

  Grandma began to choke hard enough that I worried for her
health and pounded her on the back.

  Once she’d recovered, she squeaked, “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

  “Me either.” I wrinkled my nose. “There’s something in the air, I swear. It’s making me a little crazy.”

  “You’ll be fine. Why not go find a drink. Get some food.”

  “Nope. I’m not getting drunk. I’m going to hang out in the room. Catch up on some reading.”

  “Great plan.” Grandma practically shoved me in her haste to get away. I might have been offended, except I preferred to avoid the craziness she was sure to embroil me in.

  I never made it to my room, managing to find a quiet spot on a deck no one seemed to have discovered. I nestled into an abandoned pile of rope, feeling quite at home with the salty air filling my lungs. The story sucked me in, back to a time when swashbuckling was accepted, and the world was a more violent place.

  The announcement that dinner with the captain would commence raised my head but only long enough to remind me to dig out a snack from my pocket. A protein bar that could have really used a drink to wash it down.

  I finished my book as twilight turned to night. Following the spell I’d left on my room and avoiding the leering goblins who’d already gotten into the grog, I meant to ready myself for bed, but it wasn’t even nine. Early even by my standards.

  The tug at my chest came again. Stronger this time.

  What kind of magic was this? Exiting my room, I glanced up and down the hall. A pale-skinned couple dressed in sleek black evening wear went past me, apparently not affected by the summons.

  Did the ship exude a compulsion keyed to certain guests? Only me?

  The final thought brought a frown. I could only think of one spell that might be for me alone.

  The one on my locket. The damned love curse.

  “Oh, you sly old biddy.” I should have known Grandma had an ulterior motive in dragging me along on this trip. Exactly who had she given the locket to? Someone on board, obviously, making avoiding them nearly impossible unless I abandoned ship. I looked around for the nearest exit to jump ship, and then it hit me.