“Yes, of course. Thank you for your time.”
Jana sauntered off toward the kitchen, her bottom swaying in time to the music.
“I hope she doesn’t spit in our food,” Daniel said.
“Why would she do that?” I asked. “I only asked about Milton. She didn’t seem offended.”
“Not at all,” Demetrius said, coming to my aid. “Jana is very laid-back and professional. She’d never take her frustration out on a customer.”
“I don’t think Daniel was serious,” Begonia said, now rushing to defend Daniel. “He knows how Emma is.”
Yikes. This dinner was fraught with tension. I hoped things calmed down or my stomach would be tangled in too many knots to eat.
“I could really use the restroom,” I said. “Begonia, how about you?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, completely missing the memo.
“Begonia,” I said slowly. “You have a hair out of place.”
She touched the top of her head absently.
“Begonia, I think Emma would like to have a private conversation with you in the ladies’ room,” Daniel explained.
Begonia’s mouth formed a tiny ‘o.’ “Sorry, of course.” She smiled at Demetrius. “I’ll be right back.”
Demetrius leaned back in his chair, revealing a bit more man chest. It was hard not to ogle. “I’ll be here, making small talk with my favorite fallen angel.”
I didn’t miss the scowl on Daniel’s face as Begonia and I retreated into the restroom.
“What’s going on?” Begonia asked, once we’d closed the door.
“You tell me,” I said. “You’ve been acting funny since we got here.”
She folded her arms. “No, I haven’t.”
“Begonia, you didn’t even tell me about your date tonight. Since when do we not share news like that?” I fixed her with my inquisitive stare, the one I usually reserved for my amateur interrogations.
Her arms collapsed at her sides. “Fine. I broke up with Claude and agreed to go out with Demetrius. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to know. In case it didn’t go well.”
I eyed her skeptically. “In case it didn’t go well? All the more reason you would tell me.”
“Okay, I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to interfere.”
I blinked. “Interfere how?”
“Like this.” She waved her arms dramatically in the direction of the dining area. “You show up looking pretty and glowing with happiness. Of course he’s going to pay attention to you.”
“I didn’t know you were coming here,” I said. “It was completely random.”
“I know, but it doesn’t matter.” She looked crestfallen. “He was focused on me until you arrived. Now he’s gazing at you like you’re a piece of precious art on the wall.”
“Begonia, you’re being silly,” I said. “He’s flirted with you since I’ve been here. Said you looked as good as you tasted.”
“But he said it for your benefit,” Begonia objected.
I laughed. “How would flirting with you be for my benefit? He knows I’m happy with Daniel. He’s not going to make me jealous.”
“Yes, everyone knows how happy you are with Daniel,” she said. “Now could you please give the rest of us a chance to be happy, too?”
“What does that even mean?” I cried. “I’m not interested in Demetrius. He knows that. He was never serious about me.”
“Of course he was. He had the protective spell put around your house, remember? Vampires don’t do that sort of thing. He did it because it was you.”
“Did I tell you about that?” I asked. I didn’t remember telling the other witches.
“Demetrius did.” Her gaze drifted to the floor. “It’s how I know he’s still interested in you. He mentions you in passing whenever we talk, like he’s always thinking about you.”
I didn’t know what to say. I genuinely didn’t think Demetrius was that invested in me. Markos, maybe, but not Dem.
“I’m sorry, Begonia,” I said. “Can we just make it through this dinner and I promise I’ll stay out of your dating life from now on?”
Begonia bit her lip. “I know it’s not your fault, Emma, but it still feels that way.”
“You’re a good friend, Begonia. I’m sorry I’m causing you even a moment of unhappiness.”
She didn’t respond so I left the restroom and returned to the table, significantly sadder than when I’d left it.
Chapter 14
“Are you nervous?"
I glanced over my shoulder at Gareth as I pulled a tray of cookies out of the oven. A second effort after my cookie crisp failure. “What makes you think I'm nervous?"
He looked pointedly at the oven. "For one thing, you’re baking. Voluntarily and without magic. That's a red flag right there."
I glared at him. "What? You think you’re the only one who's allowed to make anything in this house?"
"I'm the only one who can make anything in this house," he said. "I don't know what to call whatever it is you’re doing."
I examined my cookie creations. Although they were flat as a pancake, they smelled delicious. Best of all, they weren’t burnt. “No one cares what they look like as long as they taste good.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” Gareth said.
I continued to busy myself in the kitchen. "This committee meeting is a big deal. It's stressful and cookies make everything better. We need to get things right this time and I know there will be disagreements.”
"And that's why I'm here," Gareth said.
"No, you’re here because you’re trapped in your house as a ghost."
He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. I'm here to help. It's a cause near and dear to my dead vampire heart." He peeked around the doorway to the foyer. "What time is Kassandra due to arrive? I’d like to make sure there's plenty of time to go through the ground rules before everyone else arrives."
We had agreed to invite Kassandra to attend the meeting so that she could translate for Gareth, since I would be busy hosting and chairing the meeting. Gareth was very keen to feel a part of the proceedings and I knew he would have a lot to contribute.
"She should be here any minute," I said. "Hopefully, we’ll have plenty of time to deal with her before the actual meeting starts."
As if on cue, the wind chimes sounded and Gareth quickly disappeared from view.
"I'll answer it," he called, already in the foyer. His ability to manipulate objects seemed to improve every day. Thankfully, Kassandra wouldn't think twice if an unseen hand opened my front door.
Gareth reappeared in the kitchen followed by the punk psychic. She sported a tongue ring and her dark hair was now streaked with bright blue.
"Thank you so much for coming," I said. "Gareth is very excited to be able to participate tonight."
"It's no trouble at all," Kassandra replied. A scowl flickered across her usually pleasant features. "I love bringing people together. It's the best part of my ability."
"What is it?" I asked. “You don’t look like you love it.”
She inhaled deeply. “You didn't invite Hugo, did you?"
I recoiled at the mention of the former sheriff's name. "Of course not. Why would I?" Hugo was a vocal opponent of reform and had tried to make people believe that the committee intended to let hardened criminals go free. He was completely distorting the purpose of these meetings to drum up fear and misunderstanding.
"I didn't think so," Kassandra said. "But I passed him on the road not far from here and he asked if I was coming to the meeting. I worried that he was invited.”
"Well, he has been canvassing the area for votes this week," I said. "He's probably going door-to-door in the neighborhood with his campaigners." He was smart enough to steer clear of my front porch, though.
“You’re probably right,” she said. “He gave me a biscuit on the way in. Green and yellow—Spellbound’s official colors. No doubt he baked it with the tears of t
he innocent.”
I stifled a laugh. “No tears of the innocent in my cookies.” I jerked a thumb toward the counter.
“Just tears of frustration,” Gareth mumbled.
"What about Lucy?" Kassandra asked. "Will she be coming?"
"She had intended to originally, before the whole election kicked off,” I replied. “We decided it would be best if she stayed neutral until after the election, especially with Milton’s death.”
"Who knew sweet Lucy would turn out to be a smooth political operative?" Gareth mused.
"You make it sound like a bad thing," I said. "She’s just being sensible."
“Aye,” Gareth agreed. "I wouldn't object to a sensible leader in the Mayor's Mansion."
At that moment, Magpie rushed into the room. I suspected he smelled the baked goods and was hoping for a treat. He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Kassandra and immediately tried to backtrack out of the kitchen. Unfortunately for the hellbeast, she was too quick for him. She scooped up the cat in her arms and attempted to cuddle him.
"There's my little conduit," Kassandra purred. "We will be needing your services this evening, you gorgeous creature.”
Magpie squirmed and hissed as Kassandra attempted to soothe the savage beast.
Gareth ran a ghostly hand over Magpie’s fur. "Listen, friend. This is for me tonight. I'd like to be able to feel a part of this meeting and I need your help to do it. Can you do this for me?"
Magpie studied Gareth with his one good eye.
“Don't look at me like that," Gareth said. "How often have I ever asked you for a favor? And, more importantly, how often did I keep you happy with tins of tuna?"
Magpie’s stiff body relaxed, appearing to relent.
"Thank you, old chum," Gareth said softly. "It means the world to me."
"He's all yours, Kassandra," I said. "Why don't we go into the living room and you can make yourself comfortable?"
"Would you mind if I had a drink first?" Kassandra asked. “My mouth feels incredibly dry and I know I’ll be talking quite a bit this evening.”
A sound in the foyer alerted me to the arrival of another guest. When I stepped into the foyer, I was shocked to see Lady Weatherby standing in the middle of it. I hadn’t expected any members of the town council to attend, let alone the head of the coven.
"Lady Weatherby, how nice to see you here," I said. “May I take your cloak?"
She clutched the ends of the dark material around her throat. “The cloak stays on."
Alrighty then.
"Please come in and sit down. Can I offer you anything to drink?"
"No, thank you," she replied politely. "I seem to be early."
"Not really. Everyone else seems to be late." I gestured to Kassandra who sat at the head of the table holding Magpie. "I assume you know Kassandra."
Lady Weatherby nodded. "Yes, of course. Lovely to see you."
“Kassandra is here to interpret for Gareth tonight," I explained. "He wants to be able to contribute to the discussion.”
Lady Weatherby seemed pleased. "I think that’s a wise decision to include him."
"Well, at least somebody thinks so," Gareth said.
I whipped around to face him. "What's that supposed to mean? I think so. If I didn't, I wouldn't have bothered to invite Kassandra. I would have let you mope around in the background, pretending to be disinterested.”
"I should probably get started before the rest of your guests arrive," Kassandra said. "If we want Gareth to be able to last through the meeting, I need to try and improve my usual method." She lifted the glass of water from the table and took a long sip. I was happy to note that Magpie remained well-behaved on her lap.
More wind chimes welcomed more guests.
"I'll get it," Gareth said eagerly. If nothing else resulted from this meeting, at least Gareth got to feel like part of the community again.
Lord Gilder and Dr. Catherine Hall swept into the room. Together. Another public outing. This was an amazing development.
"So glad you two could make it," I said.
"Oh, we didn't come together," Dr. Hall said quickly. "We just happened to arrive at the same time."
I bit back a laugh. Bless her hardened heart. Dr. Hall was still so gun-shy.
Lord Gilder greeted me warmly for a cold-blooded vampire. "This is an important change for the town and I felt it was critical to attend." He glanced at his colleague, Lady Weatherby. "And I see that I am not the only one who feels this way."
Lady Weatherby gave him a respectful nod.
More voices. Rochester. Judges Millville and Longbottom. Stan, the registrar. Professor Holmes. It was a good group. Very respected, although not the usual suspects found in my home.
“Welcome to the first official committee meeting,” I said, standing behind Kassandra at the head of the table. “I’m not looking to solve all of the issues in one night, but I hope that we can at least generate ideas to move the ball forward.”
Nods of assent greeted my words.
“You’re off to a good start,” Gareth said, hovering beside me.
“Gareth says good luck, you’re all going to need it,” Kassandra announced.
I gave her a sharp glance. “Um, Kassandra. That’s not what he said,” I told her quietly. Why would she say that?
“They’re all paying attention now,” Gareth said. “Good thing, too. Judge Millville was ready to doze off.”
Kassandra stroked Magpie. “Gareth says we should get this committee meeting rolling before Judge Millville drops dead of old age.”
Judge Millville glared at the empty space behind Kassandra. “If Gareth is going to make insulting remarks instead of a positive contribution to this committee, I suggest he return to whatever hell dimension he belongs in.”
Lord Gilder and Dr. Hall gasped in unison.
“Judge Millville, what an incredibly racist thing to say,” Lord Gilder told him. “Assigning vampires to a hell dimension? Is that how you would treat vampires that come before you in a court of law?”
“Or maybe it’s because Gareth is gay,” Rochester said. “Maybe it was meant as a homophobic slur.”
“How can we revise the sentencing guidelines when there are such obvious differences in morality?” Stan asked.
This was getting ridiculous. “Okay, everyone. Please be quiet and let’s continue. We seem to have had a bit of miscommunication, but let’s get back on track.” I placed a hand on Kassandra’s shoulder. “You only need to relay Gareth’s remarks when it’s time for comments.” And hopefully interpret them correctly next time.
I opened the book to the section on sentencing guidelines. “The first provision states…”
“Gareth says you should tear up the whole book and start from scratch,” Kassandra interjected. “The group that drafted those rules were morons.”
The small group erupted.
“Kassandra,” Gareth said sharply. “Whatever has gotten into you?”
Kassandra blinked at him, the thick mascara on her eyelashes nearly sticking together. “Huh?”
He turned his attention to me. “Emma, she isn’t herself.”
“No, she isn’t,” I agreed. Meanwhile, the crowd’s disagreements were growing louder.
“This isn’t productive,” Gareth said. “I think it would be best if I disappeared. At least it will break the connection with Kassandra so she stops making controversial statements on my behalf.”
“I can solve that,” I said. I leaned over and pinched Magpie’s bottom. The cat leaped off Kassandra’s lap like his tail was on fire before turning to hiss at me. He scampered out of sight, leaving Kassandra in a daze.
“I feel unwell,” Kassandra said and I noticed her sallow skin. “I need more water.”
“The kitchen is straight down the hall,” I said. “I’ll show you.”
By the time I returned from the kitchen, the discourse was in a rapid state of decline. I knew there was no point in trying to steer the conversation back
toward sanity tonight. The voices were too loud and the topics too touchy. We’d have to try again another time, preferably without Kassandra’s pot-stirring behavior.
Gareth found me later, sitting on the foyer floor with my back against the door.
“Not exactly a raging success, eh?” he asked.
I gave him a mournful look. “They can’t all be winners.”
He nudged me with his ghostly shoulder. “Cheer up, Little Miss Sunshine. I’m sure there’s another rainbow waiting for you just around the corner.”
I rested my head against my knees. “That’s awfully positive of you, Gareth.”
“I feel like I owe you one because of Kassandra,” he replied. “Don’t get used to it.”
I mustered a smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Chapter 15
Astrid and I pulled into the parking lot of Lumberland to interview Marcel Griffith, the owner of the company. Although Britta was supposed to have accompanied her sister, the deputy Valkyrie opted to ‘police’ an event at the Shamrock Casino, which Astrid was convinced included drinking and gambling.
“There's no car," I observed. "Maybe he's not here again."
"He's a centaur," Astrid explained. "He doesn't drive a vehicle. He hoofs it.”
Duh.
We entered the small lobby of the Lumberland office to find a vacant front desk. No doubt his administrative staff was already gone for the day.
"Hello?" Astrid called. "Mr. Griffith, are you here?"
We didn’t hear his hoofbeats before we saw him. For a decent-sized paranormal, the centaur was surprisingly light on his hooves.
"Sheriff Astrid," Marcel greeted her. “It’s been so quiet here since the campaign wrapped up. I don’t expect any visitors.” He shifted his attention to me. “This can’t be your sister. Not enough Viking in her.”
“I’m Emma Hart," I said. “Good to meet you, sir.”
His brow lifted with interest. “Emma Hart. You don't say? Well, I’ve certainly heard a lot about you." He proceeded to examine me. “I must admit, you’re younger and prettier than I expected."
"Really? Because of the whole sorceress thing?” Were they all old and haggard? If so, I didn’t have much to look forward to.
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