“The famous Finch Merlin!” The woman came right over and pulled me into a hug. I froze, unsure what to do with my hands. So I just let them hang limp at my sides.
“Most folks go with ‘infamous,’” I joked as she pulled away.
“Nonsense. We’ve heard all about you, and I’d say you’ve done more good than bad recently. Isn’t that right, darling?” She glanced at her husband.
He nodded. “Oh yes.”
“This is my mom, Cecily, and this is my dad, Richard.” Melody gestured to them in turn.
Cecily was a striking woman of almost six feet, with a willowy frame and silky black hair coiled in an elegant bun. Melody looked a lot like her. She had the same big eyes, though she wasn’t tall like her mother. Richard was a well-groomed man in his mid-forties, with a full head of brown hair and a stocky build that couldn’t have been more opposite to his wife’s.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said. Richard had a firm handshake, which reminded me of my first meeting with Melody. She’d told me her dad always said you could tell a lot by a person’s handshake, so I made it the firmest damn handshake I’d ever given in my life.
“Let’s have a toast, shall we?” Cecily declared.
“Be rude not to, after we hauled six boxes of wine all the way back from Germany,” Richard replied, with a weary roll of his eyes. “Melody’s mother can’t resist a Riesling.”
“I really can’t.” Cecily ushered us to the table and poured wine for Luke and me, while Richard poured something fruity and fizzy for Melody.
I took a tentative sip, letting it slip down my throat to warm my empty stomach. A surefire recipe for disaster. “You’ve been in Germany?”
“Mmm, yes. We had business in Berlin,” Cecily replied. “There’s a German ghost here who wants to cross over, but he can’t until he finds out what happened to his family. Seeing as he died such a long time ago, it took some digging.”
“I had my spade out and everythin’.” Richard chuckled, sipping his wine. His Southern accent made me want to instantly warm to him, but I couldn’t. Maybe it was because of Blanche, maybe it was something else, but I felt oddly detached from the situation. Even the wine didn’t help to loosen me up.
“You’ll make Finch think we’re body-snatchers, talking like that,” Cecily chided, giving him a despairing look.
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Who says we aren’t?”
“Do you do that a lot, then?” I thought of Mary, who couldn’t give up this existence just yet.
“It keeps things interestin’. Be no good just sittin’ here, twiddlin’ our thumbs,” Richard replied. “The business takes care of itself, so we do what we can to keep the specters happy. Wouldn’t do, being the only Winchester to abandon the family promise.”
I frowned. “The business?”
“This here house is the business.” Richard waved a hand around. “It was my Cecily’s idea to monetize the haunted house thing. I’d never have thought of it, and I wasn’t too keen on the idea at first. It seemed like too much risk. But she convinced me—she always does. I guess that’s why she’s the brains and I’m the brawn. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
“Someone had to bring some life into this place, if you’ll pardon the pun.” Cecily smiled at her husband, a hint of exasperation in her voice. A thread of friction existed between them—what I’d expect from a long-married couple who weren’t the idyllic Smiths, existing in a romantic fairytale of their own creation. But they looked at each other like they loved each other, instead of wanting to wring each other’s necks. Mostly. Maybe a tiny bit of neck-wringing.
“Don’t let the specters hear ya.” Richard put his hand over Cecily’s and stroked it gently, diffusing the minor tension, before nodding toward a few ghosts I hadn’t noticed. They floated around, one sweeping without a broom and the other making the motions of dusting off the mantelpiece. As if they were stuck on servitude loops from their previous lives.
“Oh, they never pay me any attention anyway. I’m not the one with Winchester blood.” Cecily rolled her eyes. “That Mary Foster never listens, at any rate.”
I attempted a smirk. “I’ve been hearing about her.”
“Don’t tell me she’s gooey-eyed over you, too.” Cecily swirled her wine like a pro.
“I wouldn’t say gooey-eyed, but it’s hard to tell with ghosts.”
“Would you like me to have a word?” she offered.
I shook my head. “No, that’s okay. She’s been pretty helpful.”
“I will, if you want me to. She’s scared enough young men out of this house.” Cecily tapped her elegant fingernails on the stem of her glass. Clearly, Mary had pissed her off one too many times.
“Easy, tiger,” Richard soothed. “You know I never entertain her flirtations.”
Cecily arched a perfect eyebrow. “You say that, but I’ve seen you blush when she tells you she likes your suit.”
“Compliments are embarrassin’!” he protested.
“And when I compliment you, where are your blushes then?” she replied.
“When do you ever give me a compliment?” His eyes twinkled with mischief.
Cecily shrugged. “On special occasions.”
“You’ll have to refresh my memory. There was Christmas in 1998, but that was a long time ago,” Richard said.
“Don’t give our guest the wrong idea. I compliment you plenty,” Cecily muttered. I guessed they did this a lot, judging by Melody’s face. She looked like she wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there.
“What’s it like, Richard, being non-magical in a place like this?” I felt antsy and needed to change the subject.
“I’m used to it. It’s all I’ve ever known, so it’s not too shockin’ to the old system.”
“So, you must be a magical, Cecily. Is that right?” I stared into my drink, trying to center myself. I didn’t feel right. I’m tired, that’s all.
Cecily nodded. “That’s right.”
“Is that how Melody ended up magical?” My hand trembled on the stem of my glass, and I couldn’t get it to stop. I’d been fine until a few minutes ago, but it was like someone had flipped a switch and now I struggled to act normal. I hoped that if I kept talking, I’d be okay. This was probably just the residual effects of the map-making kicking me in the caboose. I’d been out for ten hours—that was bound to leave an impression.
“Actually, that came as a surprise,” Cecily explained, casting a warm glance at her daughter. “The Winchester line has been without magic for generations. It may have been caused by the Kolduny spell put on this house; we don’t know for sure. Anyway, the Winchesters only had sons until our Melody was born. None of those sons had magical abilities. And then, along came Melody, complete with Chaos—a true cause for celebration. I was convinced she’d be a boy, but Richard kept saying we’d have a girl. I suppose he won that one.”
Richard smiled. “Yup, that I did. And I haven’t let her forget I was right, just that once. Got to take my wins where I can get ‘em.”