Ivy shook her head. Her eyes zeroed in on Ezekiel’s hand on her arm. She shot him a dirty look and shook free. At the same time, Ezra pressed into her back.
Ivy turned around. “Excuse me. What do you think you’re doing?”
Ezra looked at Ezekiel like he thought it was a trick question. “Going to check out this lead of yours.”
That wasn’t happening. In the last half hour, Ivy had been exposed to more shifter testosterone than she could handle. The last thing she wanted was for Ezra and Ezekiel to push her buttons and cause her magic to go haywire again.
“Nu uh,” she shook her head, “we are not checking anything out. You two are going to go find some hair or a toothbrush or something of McDowell’s and I’m going to work.”
Ezra was already shaking his head. “That’s not how it works, sweetheart. We’ve got direct orders from the Alpha. Those are more important than work. Anne gets it.”
Ivy saw red. “Maybe you forgot, sweetheart, but I’m not a shifter.” She smiled sweetly at the brothers, desperately trying to calm down but knowing she was showing too much teeth. “I am a witch and I don’t have an Alpha.” She glanced down at her phone. “What I do have is a shift at Chic Chick that started five minutes ago. You two can go be lap dogs, I’ve got work.”
“Sorry Ivy,” Ezekiel said, sounding genuine, “but this is a matter of Pack safety. McDowell is a threat. We need to find him before he hurts anyone.”
Damn him for being right. All of the fight left Ivy. Without all of that piss and vinegar running through her veins, she felt exhausted. It was only nine in the morning.
“You’re right,” Ivy admitted. “You guys go get something personal from McDowell and I’ll check out if my lead can help you.”
The twins exchanged a look.
“Did you forget that we got assigned to guard you?” Ezra smirked.
Ivy had forgotten. Shit.
How was Ivy going to pull her life together and get her magic fixed when the Terrible Twosome was following her wherever she went?
Ivy smiled when she remembered something. Two sets of eyes narrowed when they saw her expression. “I haven’t forgotten, but you two have forgotten something. Lawrence McDowell is from Monroe Springs. I don’t think the citizens of Monroe Springs would react well if they caught wind of my scent in town.”
That was putting it mildly. Ivy would be enemy number one for the entire territory. Ezra’s lip curled. Ezekiel tensed.
“Then we’ll divide and conquer.” Ezra said after a second. “Ezekiel can stay with you and I’ll go find this personal item.” Ezra pulled keys from his pocket as if it was a done deal. “If I can’t get hair, what’s the next best thing?” He asked as he walked towards his truck.
“Something he’s touched a lot.” Ivy answered absently. She glanced between the brothers. “Are you sure Ezekiel shouldn’t go with you? Won’t you need back up?”
Ezra snorted, “I have a feeling I have the easier job.”
Not bothering to say goodbye, Ezra left her standing in the parking lot outside of the Pack house.
Ivy looked up at Ezekiel more than a little upset that she hadn’t managed to get rid of them both.
Ezekiel smiled. He didn’t seem bothered by her shitty attitude. He held his hand out expectantly.
Ivy drooped. She dug around her bag until she found her keys. They’d only been broken up for two months and somehow Ivy had forgotten that little quirk. The Tates did not ride in cars that they weren't driving. She had to borrow Anne’s car. Now, she was letting Ezekiel “borrow” it. Ivy didn’t have it in her to argue anymore so she handed over the keys. Hopefully, they could get this over very quickly. “I have to call Anne and let her know I’m going to be late.”
Chapter Four
Ezekiel parked the Pack sedan outside one of the quaintest houses Ivy had ever seen.
It would have been more natural in the English countryside then Black Bird. It was a single story, farmhouse style home. The grey brick exterior contrasted beautifully with lush greenery planted around the clearing of redwoods. Ivy could see a single window at the peak of the roof’s arch. She wondered if there was a loft up there. A small cobblestone path connected the house to a matching detached garage.
Ivy loved it.
She cooed when she saw a trellis that had roses at its base. It was winter so there weren’t any blooms but she could imagine what it looked like in the summer. She wondered what color the rhododendrons were that were planted on either side of the door.
Ivy didn’t know much about the Black Bird Coven but she liked their style.
From what she gathered from Anne the Black Bird Coven wasn’t originally from Black Bird. A few years ago, the boundary lines between Black Bird and its northern neighbor, Pinebrook, had been redrawn. Pinebrook was much more witch friendly.
When the new boundary lines had been drawn, all of the inhabitants from both towns kept their addresses. Except one small house out in the woods. They had been cut off. And thus, Black Bird gained a Coven. The town, and the witches, were still furious about it but Black Bird wasn’t about to give back the land they had gained and it wasn’t like the witches could move their house. So, everyone just had to deal with it.
“This is not the house I imagined when you said we would be visiting a Coven of witches.” Ezekiel shook his head at the immaculate little yard.
Ivy stiffened at his words. “What did you think? That is would be covered in candy?”
Ezekiel ducked his head as if suddenly realizing how stupid that was. “I was picturing something more sinister.”
Ivy rolled her eyes as she started towards the front door. “Cause all witches are sinister.” She would have thought that shifters wouldn’t be susceptible to urban legends what with the whole werewolf trope in Hollywood. Guess she was wrong. “Witches aren’t inherently bad,” Ivy didn’t feel like she should have to explain this to a man who had dated her for a year.
The thought made her stop in her tracks. Ezekiel obviously had very little hands on experience with witches. Or if he did, it was limited to, “Witches are bad.” That sentiment would only get them into trouble. She would need to lay some groundwork if she wanted this to go in her favor.
Ivy turned around to face Ezekiel. He stopped short.
“There are a few things we should get straight before we walk in there.” She waited until Ezekiel nodded.
She blew out a breath and tried to condense a lifetime of knowledge into a few simple rules. “The first rule is not to talk. These witches do not like werewolves so don’t draw attention to yourself by opening your mouth.”
Ezekiel lifted an eyebrow. That wasn’t going to be a problem for him.
“Rule number two is to not touch anything. I don’t want you picking something up and getting cursed.”
“Why would they curse their own stuff? What if they touch it?”
Ivy couldn’t tell if Ezekiel actually wanted to know or if he was just being a smartass. “You can curse things so they only activate if someone else touches it.” They hadn’t even made it to the door and Ivy already wanted to pull out her hair. She had to rethink these rules.
“Rule number three, the most important rule, is to let me take the lead on this. I don’t have time to teach you Coven etiquette so just do what I say okay?”
Reluctantly, Ezekiel nodded. Ivy plastered on her brightest smile and walked to the front door. “Now, let’s go bargain.”
She knocked three times then took a step back. Loud muttering broke out behind the door. It went on long enough that Ivy almost turned the doorknob to speed things up.
Suddenly, the door flew open.
A rotund woman with short grey hair scowled at them. She could have been anyone’s grandma. Her skin sagged. She was slightly hunched over. Standing at maybe five feet, the curve was very noticeable.
A blue cable knit sweater stretched over her leopard print blouse. Inexplicably, she wore a purple flowing skirt. Orthopedic shoes toppe
d the outfit off.
She gave a put-out huff and rolled her eyes. Ivy’s mouth dropped open. The woman looked behind her and yelled, “Maggie, you were way off. It isn’t a pair of men here to sweep us off our feet.” She took in Ivy head to toe before leaning around her to check out Ezekiel. “It’s a stray and her dog.”
A tiny withered hand grabbed the door, opening it wider. The owner of the hand was a thin, reedy woman. Her grey curls were set perfectly. She too could have been anyone’s grandma. With her perfectly matching pink sweater set and sensible slacks she looked like she’d stepped out of an assisted living commercial.
She lifted a pair of glasses hanging around her neck on a chain. She repeated the same once over the other woman had. She looked Ivy up and down then leaned to the side to get a good look at Ezekiel.
“Oh dear,” she said sounding profoundly disappointed. “I really thought I got it right this time.” She let the glasses drop, giving Ivy a warm smile. “Good morning dear, won’t you come in?”
The other woman smacked Maggie. “You can’t just invite her in.”
Maggie rubbed her arm frowning. “I’m trying to be polite so we can get to know her, Patricia.”
Patricia pointed a bony finger at Maggie. “Are you inviting strangers into the house again, Maggie? I will have Stella call her grandson to change the password to the internet. No online cards for a week.”
Maggie’s face molted red. “I am over two hundred years old, little missy. If I want to invite the mailman in for tea, I will.” Her tiny hands clenched into fists.
“You are the reason he won’t deliver the mail anymore,” Patricia started to yell.
“Ladies,” Ivy shouted trying to cut into the middle of, what looked like, an old argument. Both women gasped having clearly forgotten that they had visitors. “I’m Ivy Stevens,” Ivy tried again with a smile on her face.
“We know who you are,” Patricia waved away Ivy’s introduction. She laughed harshly. “The wolves have been tripping over themselves to tell us all about you.” She practically sang. Her soft cheeks molded up into a smile. “You’ve got a worse reputation than us.”
Maggie’s head canted to the side. “It’s true,” she said apologetically.
Ivy didn’t know how to feel about that. Luckily, Patricia didn’t miss a beat. She shooed Maggie away from the door gesturing for Ivy to come in. “I’d tell you to keep your dog on the porch but I’m sure you’ll be worried he’ll run off.”
Ivy nodded slowly. As soon as the older women started shuffling down the hall, Ivy gave Ezekiel a sheepish smile. Obviously, there were prejudices on both sides.
The women led them to the kitchen. Pots hung from hooks on the ceiling. A beautiful antique hutch was wedged into the corner. Inside were delicate tea cups. Small ornamental crystals were scattered between them.
English roses accented the room. They were on the curtains hanging over the sink window. There were half a dozen soft tea towels with pink roses on cabinet doors. Small ceramic tiles sat on the countertop painted with roses.
At the center of the kitchen was a large island. A massive stove top took up half of the countertop. Scattered across the rest of the counter space were herbs, a mortar, and some jars. Ivy glanced around but didn’t see a pestle.
Cooking on the stove was an honest to gods’ cauldron. It was bubbling the foulest smelling liquid Ivy had ever smelled. Ezekiel gagged behind her.
The woman stirring the vile mix did not seem affected by the smell. She hunched over the cauldron examining it with a critical eye. Ivy didn’t know how her eyebrows weren’t sizzling off of her face.
The third woman was slightly younger than the rest of the Coven. Her hair still had streaks of brown amongst the grey. She was wearing jeans and a cotton top. She was almost out of place in her normality. Until she opened her mouth.
“Was that the studs Maggie saw? I’ve almost got the potion ready. It should give us four hours of youth.” She paused stirring and murmured to herself, “Is that enough time?” Turning around she grabbed a bottle off the counter and dumped all of it into the cauldron. “Scratch that, it’ll give us seven hours of youth. That should be enough time for us to get a few rounds of wild…”
“Scrap it, Stella,” Patricia bit, “Maggie misinterpreted her vision. Again.” From the glare Patricia sent Maggie, this must be a common occurrence.
Stella threw the spoon across the room, “Are you kidding me?”
“Now, Stella,” Maggie chided, “that is no way to act around guests.”
Stella untied her apron before turning to Ivy and Ezekiel. Her brows raised. She recognized Ivy too. “Well, if we aren’t going to be ravished by gorgeous men at least we will be entertained. Please, have a seat.”
Ivy moved to the round kitchen table. Ezekiel didn’t bother taking a seat. He leaned against the wall behind Ivy.
Patricia and Maggie sat down while Stella went about getting tea ready.
“Stella would you be a dear and take a look at the calendar for us? I do believe we have a bet to settle.” Maggie pointed to a cat calendar hanging on the side of the fridge.
Stella paused and began scanning the calendar.
“I said she’d be here last week. Maggie, you put down next month and,” Stella drew out as she picked up a note taped to the calendar, “Patricia said she would hitch the first ride out of town.” Stella flashed a brilliant smile. “I was closest. I win.”
The other two ladies groaned.
“Now we have to watch her awful T.V show,” Patricia griped.
“It’s not awful,” Stella argued as she set a tea the tray on the kitchen table. “I’m just trying to bring us into this decade. And this decade is all about superheroes.”
I love it here. Watching the three old witches bicker like cats was the most fun Ivy had had since moving to Black Bird.
“You two are being beyond rude,” Maggie gave Patricia and Stella a stern look. She turned to Ivy offering her a shortbread cookie. “Now my dear, why have you come to us?”
Ivy glanced around before asking, “I thought there were four members in the Coven. Should we wait for the last member? This pertains to all of you.”
Patricia huffed while settling back into her chair with her tea and cookie. “Murielle moved in with her daughter. She lives in Maine with a big, old Coven. The lucky bitch,” she added
Maggie didn’t chide Patricia. She nodded in agreement.
Ivy cleared her throat, not sure what to say. “Well, before we talk business, I wanted to ask what breed of rose you have woven around your trellis. It’s such a pretty design.” Ivy couldn’t help herself. After years of working at a plant nursery, she was obsessed with flowers.
The women shared a sly look. Patricia held her head high, proudly saying, “Do you know what a Juliet rose is?”
Ivy practically felt her pupils dilate. “Yes,” she breathed, her pulse quickening.
The Juliet rose was mythical. A sweet apricot color, the center of the bud overflowed with petals. It was cherubic. It was delightful. It was the most sought-after rose in the world.
It was also currently under patent. No one was allowed to own it.
“How do you have that?” She whispered.
Patricia lifted a shoulder, “I have a green thumb.”
Ivy nodded, suddenly getting it. Patricia was a green witch. She had an affinity for earth magic. She had magically recreated the Juliette rose. Ivy was impressed.
Ezekiel cleared his throat, bringing Ivy back to her senses. They weren’t here to chat about the flowers.
Ivy flushed and straightened. “We came here to see if you could perform a locating spell for the Alpha of Black Bird.”
All three sets of eyebrows furrowed as the women looked back forth at each other.
“You’re kidding, right?” Patricia asked. “There’s nothing else you want to talk about?”
“No,” Ivy was startled by their reaction. She had expected a fight. Not a complete dismissal.
“My magic?” Ivy repeated like a parrot. “Why would we be here for my magic?”
“We thought you wanted training,” Stella said it in a flat tone, like it was obvious.
Ivy was genuinely confused. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re a witchling?” Now Stella sounded confused.
“What? I’m not a witchling! Why would you think that?”
Young magic users who had no training were called witchlings. They had magic but they didn’t know how to use it. When a chubby toddler was called a witchling, it was cute. Being called a witchling as an adult was insulting.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with all the little mishaps that keep happening around you,” Patricia said sarcastically. “Don’t think we haven’t heard all about the exploding street lights outside of your apartment.” She muttered something to herself before she pointed at Ivy. “Your magic is a liability. If you don’t get that under control, you’re going to start a fire.”
I’ve already done that Ivy thought. She hoped she didn’t look guilty. “Well, we’re not here to talk about my magic.”
Patricia rolled her eyes. Maggie looked concerned. Stella frowned at Ivy letting her know how stupid she thought Ivy was being.
Ivy ignored them and went on. “The Alpha of Black Bird wants to contract you to perform a locating spell.” She hoped that if she used Ben’s official title that they would be more inclined to say yes. Or at least take it more seriously.
Stella chuckled, “What a bunch of hypocrites.”
“They’ve got a lot of nerve to ask us to use our magic. They are all asses to us because of our magic,” Patricia folded her arms.
Ivy looked at Maggie hoping to see a more favorable opinion. Maggie shook her head, “Sorry dear, they’ve been awful.”
Ivy sighed. This was the response she had been expecting. Anne had told her that until recently, the Black Bird Coven couldn’t go to the post office without someone drawing a salt circle around their car. Ivy had hoped she might be able to convince them to help easily. It looked like that wasn’t going to happen.
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