Cursed Lines (A Peg Darrow Novel Book 2)

by Camille Douglass

  One day, Bruce had been over for dinner, and Cheddar somehow managed to open said drawer using his kitty genius and had run through the living room in full Halloween cat mode, tangled in the burnt-orange yarn, needles trailing behind him. Bruce still insisted I’d been attempting to knit a sweater onto a live feline. I might be willing to visit the occasional vampire if work called for it, but I wasn’t suicidal.

  “Uh huh.” He dropped it, though I could hear the chuckle he wanted to let loose in his voice. “You inviting me to lunch?”

  “I’m that easy to read?” I asked.

  “Nope, I’m just hungry and decided to use reverse psychology on you.”

  “Well, it worked, Rosa’s?”

  “Thirty minutes?”

  “Deal.”

  The strip mall Mexican restaurant was decked out in the traditional decor of bright colors, heavy wood furniture, and Saltillo tile, and smelled like heaven. I’d beaten Bruce because, despite my senior citizen preference for driving styles, I lived much closer. Seated at a booth in a corner, I gorged on chips and salsa while I waited. The waiter graciously provided a second basket of chips and a new container of salsa just before Bruce strolled in to hide my crime.

  He came to my booth, his shockingly white smile gorgeous against his copper skin. His dark hair, about an inch long, stood out at random intervals, unsurprising given his penchant to shave his head when he got sick of dealing with his hair, letting it grow out to an unruly length and then starting the process all over again.

  He stopped next to the bench I sat on. “Well, get up and give me a real greeting, and I’ll forget that you waited three days to call me.”

  I stood, and he enveloped me in a hug before lifting me and twirling me twice for good measure to the amusement of the handful of tables that had come in for a late lunch. After he set me down, we settled in the booth across from each other.

  “Joke’s on you, buster. You could sell those hugs as instant therapy, and I got one for free.” I winked at him.

  His smile grew impossibly brighter. “How much do you think I could sell them for?”

  “Easily five bucks each. You work an eight hour shift, you’ll be rolling in it, and you can take me to the Bahamas or, better yet, someplace cooler when it hits one twenty.”

  “I’ll take you and Lola wherever you ladies wanna go. I’ll look like a real ladies’ man.”

  The mention of Lola sucked the cheer right out of me, and I focused on the fresh basket of chips.

  “What’s going on?” he prodded.

  I swallowed. “Things are a little rocky with me and Lola right now. She’s gotten caught up with some bad people and won’t listen to sense.”

  Our waiter appeared, and we ordered, shrimp tacos topped with pineapple salsa for me and tamales smothered in green chile salsa for him. After the waiter left, I unloaded the whole story about Michael, what his family did, Lola’s tentative childhood tie, and I finished it off with a rant about my encounter with Deval earlier that morning. When I finally came up for air and shoved yet another tortilla chip in my mouth, Bruce let out a long whistle.

  “Damn girl. This isn’t the first basket of chips that came to this table is it?”

  I flushed a little at my penchant for stress eating and grabbed another chip. Mouth full, I responded, “Nope and it’s not likely to be the last one either.”

  He nodded. “We’ll get you some fried ice cream too if you promise you’ll be capable of getting some work done afterwards because, girl, you’ve got a pile of shit and a shovel, and you know what you need to do.”

  “Do I though?”

  “Don’t be an idiot. Priority numero uno: get some dirt on that family. She’s not safe but you’ll keep a look out for her. Then you gotta do your job. Money may not be the answer to everything, but it sure is nice to be able to eat. Finally, don’t you worry about Deval that will work itself out. He’s just scared cuz he’s found his queen.”

  I choked on a chip and had a coughing fit as the jagged little piece tried to invade my airway.

  “What? You gonna act like there ain’t chemistry?”

  I grabbed my water and gulped it down when I could breathe again, and then set the glass on the table with a thud. “Of course, there is. I don’t make out with just anyone, but a strong sexual chemistry does not lend itself to queen status.”

  “No, but his safe calling to you would.”

  “How do you know it was the safe?”

  He gave me the ol’ “do I look stupid to you” look. “They act like it’s a big secret but any supernatural who’s over fifty knows about it.”

  “Lola acted like it was a state secret.” My mouth pinched in annoyance.

  “Well, she’s under fifty, and like I said, they try to keep it a secret, but it’s like my uncle Lester. He’s older than shit, so given society, we knew why he didn’t come out, but he walked around hitting on any woman in sight as if we didn’t all know his ‘friend’ Clarence wasn’t his partner, and frankly we didn’t give a shit. Clarence’s a great guy and a plumber. Do you know how convenient it is to have plumber in the family?”

  “I think you may have gotten a little off topic here.”

  “Maybe but it’s a good analogy. Everybody knows that Lester is gay, and everyone knows that the safes exist and what they do. Doesn’t mean that knowledge couldn’t be dangerous for the people involved. Even though you, and I don’t care, there’s always gonna be some asshole out there who’s gonna gay bash or try to steal the source of a person’s power.”

  Not a direct analogy but close enough that I didn’t argue. Our food arrived and we ate with purpose and in silence. Not speaking again until our plates were clean and the fried ice cream had been ordered.

  Biting the bullet, I asked the question gnawing at my brain. “What do you mean his plane calling to me indicates that I’m his queen.”

  “Well, if he weren’t prince, the queen business would mean nothing. It’s not the end all be all kismet that you two are meant to be together, but it does mean that your magic is compatible.”

  “Great, we’ll get together and have a spell circle.” Snark coated my voice.

  “Don’t go getting saucy with me, miss. Magic lives in your soul and is therefore influenced by it, be that good or bad. If you two have good juju, that should be something to celebrate.”

  I slumped in my seat. “That sounds wonderful until you remember the part where he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. You should have seen how fast he pulled away from my house. There are skid marks to prove it.” My voice had gotten shrill at the stark reminder of the callous rejection. “Besides, until you told me what it all meant, I just thought it was another playboy being an asshole. Now I’m being rejected by my magical soul mate.” My eyes stung a little, but I tipped my head back and held off the unwanted tears.

  Bruce reached across the table, and I rested my hand in his warm strong grip. “Sweetheart, men as old as Deval get a little scared of the real deal. Give him time. But while you give him that time, you go and live your life. There are millions of souls, and just because one would be a good fit doesn’t mean the timing or circumstance is right.”

  I managed a small smile to show Bruce that his words helped. The raw devastation that had hit me had a lot to do with all of the chaos that currently circled me, not just Deval. “I just wish I could talk to Lola about this.”

  “What am I? Chopped Liver?” It was hard to look affronted when a smile pulled at your lips but Bruce did the best he could.

  I gave his hand another squeeze before releasing it. “Nope, you sir, are the finest of meats. I’ll get you a T-shirt that says so.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.” He grimaced.

  “But it could be your Christmas present.” I protested.

  “Tell you what, why don’t you just give me a quick kiss under the mistletoe one of these nights instead.”

  “Deal.” Ours was a platonic friendship, but a little flirt with an attractive
man never hurt anyone, and I’d just saved myself twenty bucks on screen printing.

  “Now, I’ve been sitting here and thinking about what you told me about Lola, and I can’t help but have a vague recollection of a nasty witch family bringing some trouble maybe twenty years ago.”

  I perked up, knowing the timing to be just right. Lola’s parents had died when she was five, and she currently hit the quarter of a century mark.

  “What can you remember about these people?”

  “Not much and mostly rumors. I was in the rodeo circuit back then. Didn’t have a lot of time to socialize outside those guys, but I do remember going home at one point and my mom saying there was some bad stuff brewing for the witches. New family in town causing trouble. Best I can remember, they ran before they could do much harm.”

  “Do you remember if your mom said why they ran?”

  “About that time there was the power shift of Pammy taking over Arizona. Ambitious is an understatement, and whereas there may have been some missed items in the general turnover, you better believe that Pammy wouldn’t have left them to their own devices. She had a rep to make.”

  “Well, her rep has been made tenfold, so why risk coming back?”

  “Did they try to hide their arrival?”

  “No.”

  “Then they hedged the bet, thinking Pammy wouldn’t connect the dots. She has, but they’re still here. My guess is they left something behind something worth the risk, or they’re idiots that underestimate Pammy.”

  “My guess is both.”

  Our fried ice cream arrived, and while the combination of ice-cream, cinnamon, and corn flakes topped with whipped cream and honey hit my tongue in what should have been a combination of ecstasy, I couldn’t really enjoy it. I didn’t know the purpose, but the McAllisters had only pursued one connection since their arrival. Lola.”

  8

  My Jeep was not the best vehicle for surveillance. Its bright color did not scream unremarkable. I’d inherited it from my dad and at the price of free. I couldn’t complain, but in the hopefully near future, I’d need to purchase an old compact that wouldn’t be so obvious on a stakeout.

  After leaving Bruce behind, I’d called Pammy. Good news was she knew where the McAllisters were staying. Bad news was they knew what she drove, as she’d had a very tense visit with the matriarch of the family. Which meant that when she asked me if I was in the mood for a stakeout, I couldn’t ask to borrow her old Crown Victoria. Well I could, but it felt counterproductive.

  The street they stayed on in East Mesa had a lot of traffic and a number of cars lined the street. I wedged my own between a F-250 and a Corolla, hoping to be overlooked in between the two unremarkable models. Stakeouts weren’t fun, but they were a necessary evil of the job. I had foregone my usual evening Diet Pepsi, knowing that copious amounts of liquids did not equal a successful spy session. Not that there had been much to observe.

  The two-story house lay in a development built in the nineties. The tan stucco house looked like all of the other tan stucco houses with the desert landscaping that consisted of rocks and a few spiny mesquite trees. The lights were turned on in the windows both upstairs and down. The family apparently hadn’t heard of energy conservation. No one walked by the windows, and no lights flickered to indicate a television running.

  After two hours, it went from dusk to full twilight, and my eyes began to cross. It was like sitting in a museum for hours, staring at the most tedious landscape. The only things that interrupted my adventure were slouching when a pedestrian walked by and shifting occasionally to wake an ass cheek that had fallen asleep only to have to shift a while later when the other had followed suit. To my shame, my eyes became harder and harder to keep open, which caused me to jump and let out a startled shriek when my passenger door suddenly opened. My magic pushed up so quickly I felt like I’d touched one of those toy buzzers kids hid in their hands.

  “It’s just me.” Deval’s cousin Vegard slid into my passenger seat and closed the door with the thud that accompanied older vehicles.

  “Just me? Are you following me?” I wanted to sound like a cool and collected detective. Shrill fishwife would be a more accurate description.

  “Obviously.”

  I swallowed and let my power brush out the tips of my fingers. Locked and loaded. “Whatever you have planned, I don’t think you’re ready to take me on.”

  “Take you on?” He looked down at my hands, which emitted a soft glow. “Whoa, I said I was following you, not that I planned on murdering you and feeding you to the pigs.”

  “Pigs?” My face scrunched up.

  “Haven’t you ever seen Snatch?”

  I suddenly recalled the scene in the movie. “Yes, but still that’s a bit morbid. What exactly can I do for you since you claim to have no interest in feeding me to the pigs?”

  “I’m here to help you.”

  “Help me what?”

  “With your inquiry into my family.”

  I just stared at him for a moment. “And you’ve been just sitting in this neighborhood watching me for hours to help?” Because that wasn’t creepy.

  “Okay, so when you parked here I didn’t realize how long you’d be here, so I decided to bite the bullet and just approach you. I love my father and brother, but their ideas have become somewhat off lately. I want there to be a peaceful resolution before they go too far.”

  “Like stealing from the heir to the goblin throne?”

  Vegard winced.

  “So, they did do it?”

  “I have no proof, but I would bet money on it.” He sighed.

  “You have no proof, but you’re here to help?”

  He suddenly grabbed my hand. I dampened my magic, not wanting to hurt the guy. Dear gods, please don’t let me become pig feed.

  “I can help. I’ve distanced myself over the years because frankly they’re not stable. I wonder now if that’s been a mistake. If I’d maintained a closer relationship, would they have taken it this far?”

  I looked into his eyes, and while they looked earnest, I hesitated.

  “Look, I’m going to go and try to rebuild my relationship with my family. I want this to end peacefully. I doubt they can get away with what they’ve done, what they’re no doubt planning to do next, but I’m hoping to lighten the blow. Make them see reason. If they can just apologize to Aunt Delmy, I have no doubt that she’ll forgive them in century or two. We can wait, but not if they’re dead or in some hole of a plane left without any gold to rot away the rest of their lives.”

  “So, that’s what’s wrong with the American prison system, there’s no gold.” Snark only mildly coated my voice. “So tell me, what would you do differently this time that you haven’t in the past? If you’re that far out, will they even let you into the fold? Why risk yourself now?”

  “They’ve gone too far this time. It’s borderline treason, and I love my entire family. That includes Delmy and Deval. They’ve always been good to me. I don’t know what I can do differently, but I have to try.”

  “I get that, but what can I possibly do to help you? I’m looking to prove they’re guilty. Not stage a family intervention.”

  He nodded and pulled his hand away from mine. “I know that, but I figured if I came to you and offered my help that you might ask for leniency on their behalf. I will as well, of course, but your opinion would help tremendously.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, you are in for a rude awakening if you think I hold any type of sway over the goblin monarchy.”

  “That’s untrue. You are at the very least a novelty, a treasured child who has sprung from the stone in a time of darkness. Our people miss the relationships the supernatural communities once nurtured before those trials and all the destruction they brought. At best, however, you are of interest to Deval, and given what he has been prone to in the past, I have no doubt that Delmy is rubbing her hands together at the prospect that Deval is bringing home a warrior rather than a woman whose current life f
ocus is who she can get to spring for the latest trendy bag.”

  “Novelty maybe, but warrior definitely not. Last fight I was in left me bleeding out until Deval came to the rescue.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Did you mange to stave off two powerful beings?”

  “Eh, really, I just managed not to die.”

  “Well that’s more than most can do, and you’re young. It’s already rumored that you’re Pammy’s ingénue, that she’s grooming you.”

  I reached over and covered Vegard’s mouth with my hand. “Dear gods almighty, don’t you say things like that. One, she’ll hear about it and assume I’m looking to take her out and murder me herself, or two, even scarier, you’re right. I’d be a terrible sheriff.” I removed my hand and leaned back against the driver’s door trying to distance myself from the very idea of that much power and responsibility. More like that much headache and an early grave to show for it.

  “Hence why I said the grooming. The old witch has some good years left in her, but there’s nothing wrong with a retirement plan.”

  “I’m not even Catholic,” I said as I crossed myself. “If you stop telling me that I’m the heir apparent to the Arizona witches, I’ll promise to recommend leniency, should it turn out that your father or brother had anything to do with the theft of the safe.”

  “They did. I just have no proof.” The weight of the sadness in his words hit me. He really just wanted to try to lighten the punishment that no doubt hung over his family’s heads. Not a burden I wanted to bear.

  “Get proof, you’re always in a better position to bargain if you have something to offer. I’m sure Delmy would be willing to listen to you. You’re family after all.”

  “What is the modern term?” he asked his face lightening with a small smile, “You’re just blowing smoke up my ass.”

  I cocked my head. “Damn right I’m just blowing smoke up your ass. Dude, if you think I hold any sway, you’re highly mistaken, but if possible, coming to the market with wares to sell is better than coming with a cup to beg. Of course sometimes you need to beg. I’d be prepared for that if I were you.”