by Keri Arthur
I accepted the phone somewhat reluctantly. My heart raced and sweat was beginning to trickle down my spine. Anyone would think I’d just run a marathon.
“High stress levels can do that.” Belle’s tone was grim. “Make the call. I’ll go downstairs and make a couple of Irish coffees. No matter which way it goes, I’ve a feeling we’ll need the alcohol.”
She rose and left. I took a deep breath in an effort to calm my churning stomach, and then made the call. The phone rang several times before it was answered.
“Liz,” he muttered, his voice husky with sleep. Sheets rustled as he moved, and I had visions of cotton sliding over skin.
I closed my eyes against them and bluntly said, “Are we in or out?”
“In. At least for the moment. And I’m sorry I didn’t call in, but when I came past, the place was dark. I didn’t want to wake either of you.”
I closed my eyes against the tears suddenly prickling my eyes... and heard an echoing whoop from downstairs. But that didn’t mean we were out of the woods yet—not given that “for the moment” comment. “You should have at least sent a text, Aiden, because I woke up believing the worst. And you need to explain that rider.”
“Yes.” He paused. “I’d rather not talk over the phone. If the offer of coffee still stands, I can be there in ten minutes.”
“I might even offer you breakfast if your explanation is reasonable enough.”
“That would be appreciated. I’ll see you soon.”
He hung up. I threw the phone onto the bedside table, then collapsed back onto my pillow. Tears continued to prickle, and my body was shaking, a reaction akin to shock and evidence of just how much the decision had meant to me—to us. I rubbed a hand across my eyes, smearing moisture, then got up, pulled on a sweater long enough to hang down to the middle of my thighs, and padded bare legged down the stairs. Despite the fact the sun had risen an hour or so ago, the café remained in shadows.
“I pulled the blinds down.” Belle came around the counter and handed me a tall glass filled with delicious-smelling coffee and a mountain of cream. “I figured it not only met Aiden’s order to be careful, but stopped the inhabitants of Castle Creek enjoying the glorious sight of us parading around in our underwear. They’ve done nothing to deserve it.”
“They have supported the café.”
“True, but they remain undeserving in my eyes—especially if some of them still think we need evicting.”
“It’s the council who are deciding that, not the everyday folk who come in here.” I sat down at the nearest table and sipped the coffee—and felt the warmth burn all the way down. Belle really had ramped up the alcohol content. It was probably just as well I couldn’t drive anywhere today.
“How can you be sure the various council members aren’t amongst our customers? It’s not like they walk in here and announce who they are.”
“That’s true.” I watched the play of sunbeams across the wall for a moment, then said, “I don’t suppose you found the reference I bookmarked?”
“I not only found it, but I found the book it was referencing. It was in one of the boxes we haven’t unpacked.”
“They always are. Did you find anything interesting?”
“I haven’t tracked down the type of soul eater we’re dealing with, but it seems your guess that we need to pin them in flesh to deal with them is spot-on—although the book does advise that we do so within a protective circle. Then it’s simply a matter of banishing them back to the dark realm.”
“None of which will be easy if the man mountain was anything to go by.”
“Well no, because any living thing, be it flesh or spirit, is going to fight like hell to survive. Let’s just hope the RWA witch arrives today, and that we’re not the ones who actually have to deal with the thing.”
“Amen to that.” I clinked my glass against hers. “I don’t think it’ll be that simple, though.”
She all but groaned. “Don’t tell me you’ve had another of your dreams?”
“No. It’s just a feeling.”
“They’re almost as goddamn bad.” She wrinkled her nose. “What else is this vague premonition saying?”
“That we’ll have to finish what we started.”
She grunted. “I’d better keep reading the damn book then, just in case there’s something we’ve missed.”
“And I’ll make another agate charm for you, just to be safe.”
“Good idea. The last thing I want is to end up on a soul eater’s dinner menu.”
“It wouldn’t overly please me, either.”
She grinned. “If you’d said anything else, I would have hit you.”
“To do so you would have had to release your grip on your coffee, and we both know that isn’t going to happen until it’s finished.”
“You know me too well.” She cocked her head sideways, her expression intent. “Aiden’s approaching, and he’s on foot.”
I frowned. “Wonder why, given we’re supposed to be going to the Marin reservation this morning?”
“I can’t answer that without reading his thoughts, and you keep telling me to stay out of them.” She rose. “I’ll head upstairs and leave you two lovebirds alone. At least until I get dressed and breakfast is ready.”
“I hope you don’t want anything more serious than a toasted sandwich this morning, because I’m not going into the kitchen barefoot, and I’m not in the mood for shoes.”
“A toastie would be perfect.” Her dimples appeared as her grin flashed. “He’s almost here.”
As she went upstairs, I got up and walked over to the door. The small bell chimed merrily as I opened it. Aiden was standing on the other side, one hand half raised.
“I’m guessing Belle told you I was approaching.” His gaze skimmed me and came up heated. “And you have great legs. You should unleash them more often.”
“I will if we ever get some decent hot weather.” I stepped to one side to let him in. “Why are you walking?”
“Because the council meeting was held on O’Connor grounds last night, so I left my truck at the station and stayed up there last night.”
“Meaning you ran here?”
“Both last night and now.” His nostrils flared. “That’s a decent amount of alcohol you’ve got in that glass.”
“We felt the need for it—would you like one?”
“I have to be sober enough to drive you to the Marin reservation, so no. But a regular coffee would be awesome, as would breakfast if that offer still applies.”
“As long as you don’t want anything more strenuous than a toastie, yes it does.” I locked the door and followed him across the room. He leaned against the counter while I walked around to make his coffee and then the toasted sandwiches. “What did you mean this morning when you said ‘for the moment’?”
He sighed and crossed his arms. I couldn’t help but notice just how well the shirtsleeves defined his arms. “There are some members of the council who believe it’s something more than a coincidence that these supernatural events coincided with your arrival in the reservation.”
I blinked, not sure whether to laugh or cry. “They think we’re behind it all?”
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “Let’s just say that common sense and some of the older members of the council aren’t always good friends.”
“That’s putting it far too politely, in my opinion.” I slid his coffee across the bench, then turned on the sandwich press and got out the bread and butter. “What’s their reasoning behind such a warped opinion?”
“That you were aware of the witch ban and have been creating these supernatural events to provide a reason for your presence in the reservation.”
I snorted. “I’m guessing it escaped their notice that we applied for permission to open this café as psychics, not witches.”
“No. In fact, they’re using that subterfuge as more evidence to back their argument.”
The fuckers behind this warped view wouldn’
t want to be coming into the café, Belle commented. Because they will very quickly find themselves marched right back out.
Whatever happened to forgive and forget?
In this case, it’s well and truly forgotten.
“I’m gathering,” Aiden said, his tone dry, “that you and Belle are having a conversation.”
My gaze rose to his. “Yes. How can you tell?”
“Your expression gets distracted. Dare I ask what she was saying?”
“She was contemplating what she’d do to those councilors if they ever stepped foot in this café.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was witch creed to do unto others?”
“It is, and given they’re contemplating kicking us out, her actions would be rather fitting. Do you want chicken, beef, turkey, or strasburg on your sandwich?”
“Would it be pushing it if I said one of each?”
I snorted. “Don’t they feed you back home?”
“Mom keeps stating I’m old enough to make my own damn breakfast.”
“Which you are.”
“Yeah, but it’s still nice not to have to cook for yourself occasionally.”
“Does that mean you’ll return the favor and cook breakfast for me one day?”
“Love to.”
“Good.” I finished putting together his four sandwiches, and placed them under the press. “So why aren’t we being kicked out immediately if that’s their view? What are they waiting for?”
“Two things, the first being the arrival of the RWA witch today.”
I opened the press and flipped his sandwiches over. “What the hell have they got to do with the situation?”
“They wish to question him about the wellspring situation, and how it could possibly be the source of the evil finding its way here.”
“Good, because whomever the RWA send will certainly put the bastards straight about the danger they’ve put everyone in.” I grabbed a plate, stacked up his sandwiches, and handed them across. “What was the other thing?”
I glanced over my shoulder when he didn’t immediately answer; he was contemplating the chicken, avocado, mayo, and cheese toastie with something close to bliss on his face. “This is amazing.”
I laughed. “If you’ve never had a chicken avo toastie before, you’ve been seriously deprived.”
“It would appear so.” He all but inhaled the rest of it, and then said, “The other thing they’ve done is send a request up to the High Witch Council for information about the two of you.”
My heart began to beat a whole lot faster. Such a request, along with the RWA report, might just gain the very interest we were trying to avoid. “The council won’t be able to tell you much more than the RWA. We’re not vetted, as I’ve said.”
“I did mention that.” He picked up the ham and cheese sandwich and started in on that.
“And their response?”
“Was to remind me that I also suspected you weren’t telling the entire truth when it came to your background.” His gaze rose to mine. “Which you aren’t.”
If ever there was an opening to be honest, this was it. My gut twisted, but I just couldn’t force the truth out of my mouth. I flipped our sandwiches over, and then said, “The secrets Belle and I keep aren’t dangerous. We’re not criminals on the run, and nothing in our past should hold any fears for anyone in this reservation.”
Aside from Belle and me, that was.
His gaze held mine for too many minutes; seeking the truth, judging my words. Judging me. “Do your secrets revolve around the problems you had with your parents?”
“Yes.” I took the remaining toasties out of the press and silently added to Belle, Your breakfast is ready.
On my way down, she said. But I’ll eat it on the way to the gym. I need to punch out some angst.
Throw a few punches for me while you’re there. I grabbed a brown paper bag to put her sandwich in, and then held it out as she rattled down the stairs, a towel thrown over her right shoulder and her gym bag in her left hand.
“Thanks.” She grabbed her breakfast, and then glanced at Aiden. “I hope you reminded that council of yours it’s not wise to piss off witches—even underpowered ones.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you saying we’re about to experience an influx of rats?”
She grinned. “Let’s just say they’re on standby.”
With that, she departed. Aiden glanced at me. “I’m never sure if she’s serious or not.”
“Most of the time she’s not.” I picked up my toastie and took a bite. “And it was me who called the rats into Peak’s Point, not Belle.”
“But she’s still capable of it?”
“Yes.”
He drank some coffee, contemplating me over the rim for several seconds. “Why won’t you confide in me, Liz?”
I smiled, though it held little in the way of amusement. “Aside from the fact our relationship hasn’t even gotten off the ground yet, you’ve warned me a couple of times that nothing serious will ever happen between us. Why would you then expect me to tell you my deepest secrets?”
“You’ll have to trust someone eventually,” he commented. “You and Belle can’t keep running forever.”
“We’re aware of that.” I grimaced. “We had thought Castle Rock might be a place we could settle in. Your council would seem to have other ideas.”
“It’s not the whole council,” he said. “And it’s certainly not the whole reservation.”
“It’s a historical fact that the minority often spoil things for the majority.”
He frowned. “Does that mean you and Belle will leave, regardless of what decision the council comes to?”
I sighed. “I honestly can’t say.”
He didn’t look happy, which made two of us. We finished our toasties and coffees in silence. Once I’d cleaned up, I glanced at the time and said, “Is it worth heading over to the Marin reservation a little early?”
“You’re not waiting for Belle to get back?”
“She’ll be here well before any of our staff get here.”
“Then yes, we can head over now. But I’d suggest putting pants on first.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Not so long ago you were all for me getting my legs out.”
“Oh, I still am.” His tone was somewhat droll. “But the wolf in me has no desire to share the lusciousness that is your bare butt. Not when I’ve had little more than teasing glimpses.”
I grinned. “Glimpses are all you’re likely to get given our current track record.”
“Believe me, I’m painfully aware of that.” A mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes. “But I could come up and help you dress.”
“And here I was thinking you’d prefer to undress me.”
“To do one, you must first do the other. More than happy to help with that.”
“Sadly for you, Belle and I have this rule about bringing lovers home. As in, we don’t do it when the other is likely to arrive home at any moment.”
“I’m destined to be a monk forever.”
His woebegone expression was somewhat spoiled by that gleam, and I laughed. “Does that mean if we ever do manage to have sex, I’m to expect nothing more than a short, sharp explosion?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I do have a little more finesse than that.”
“Well, if it’s been over a year—”
“If rumors are true, it’s been longer than that for you.”
And those rumors would be right. “Seriously, has this reservation got nothing else to do but talk about other people’s sex lives?”
“Apparently not. Go get ready. I shall help myself to another coffee and mourn the continuation of my monk status.”
I grinned, then spun around and headed up the stairs, aware all the while of his gaze following me; if the groan that chased me up the stairs was any indication, he was both enjoying and additionally frustrated by the flashes of bare butt.
I quickly swapped the oversized sweater f
or more figure-hugging jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt that had a deep enough V-cut to show the swell of my breasts—I certainly wasn’t above showing off what the man would be missing out on if we got kicked out. After slipping on my boots, I grabbed my purse and headed back downstairs.
“Shame about the lack of legs on display,” he murmured, delight etched across his features. “But I’m liking the fit of that top.”
I grinned. “I gathered that by the swirl of appreciation and desire in your aura.”
His eyebrows rose. “You can see desire?”
“I can see auras, and if the emotion is strong enough, it’ll certainly appear in the aura.”
“So the world is a rainbow of color to you?”
I smiled. “No, because I mostly have the ability switched off. It’s only when the emotion is very strong that it slips past my guard.”
“Ah.” He rose and pressed a hand against my spine, lightly guiding me toward the door. “Does that mean you were well aware of my hatred for witches the minute you set eyes on me?”
“It was more your grief I saw,” I said. “Your aura was almost black with it.”
“And now?”
“The grief is still there, but it’s not dominating.”
“I have you to thank for that,” he said softly. “You made me confront it; made me see that what I was doing wasn’t healthy.”
I didn’t say anything and, after a moment, he touched my back again and guided me up the street. It didn’t take us long to reach his truck, which was parked in the locked lot behind the ranger station, and we were soon on the way to Maldoon and the Marin compound.
“Have you discovered who the man mountain was?” I asked, as we once again approached the small cottage.
“No one in the Marin camp recognized him,” he replied. “But the background check hit pay dirt. His name was Gerry Schmidt, and he arrived at the reservation a year ago. He’s been working at Émigré for the last six months.”
Meaning he’d probably known Marlinda. And while it might have been nothing more than a coincidence that the two had worked at the same place, I very much suspected it wasn’t. “Have you talked to the owner of the club?”
“Maelle Defour,” he said, voice oddly neutral, “has been faultlessly cooperative, and I don’t trust her at all.”
