“Oh, she’s a land shark.” Thistle hopped up and down, clapping her hands. “I knew when she ordered that outfit that it would be worth it.”
“You knew she ordered that outfit?” I was incredulous — and a little impressed. Somehow Aunt Tillie looked right at home in what should’ve been the world’s geekiest ensemble.
“She was going for the adult size, but I told her the ones for kids would be more durable.” Thistle wiggled her hips as Aunt Tillie started barreling down on Mrs. Little again. “Oh, this is the best day ever. Somebody start filming.”
“I’m on it.” Clove already had her phone out and was sliding through the door. “What do you think she’s going to do for water?” The question was barely out of her mouth when I heard an odd sound, like metal grating against metal.
Thistle and I crowded the door for a better look. It took me a full five seconds to realize what was about to happen.
“Oh, geez.” I grabbed Clove’s arm and spun her back toward the store. “Get inside.”
“Why?” Clove pouted as I shoved her with all my might. “I want this on video.”
“Trust me.” I thought about grabbing Thistle, who was so busy waiting for the land shark to make contact with her prey that she hadn’t noticed the valve on the fire hydrant spinning without human help. I was more worried about Clove and the force of the water than I was about Thistle, though. She was on her own.
I slammed the door at the exact moment the valve opened. A torrent of water barreled into Mrs. Little, flattening her against the wall of her store as Aunt Tillie started humming the shark theme from Jaws.
I noticed the stream of water spurting intermittently. My elderly great-aunt — who always swore age was just a number — smoothly slid between the pulsing blast, her pace never changing. At some point she must’ve seen Thistle, because she added a little extra something to her spell and the water started funneling off the building and heading straight for the grumpiest Winchester in the world.
I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard Thistle hit the door. It was hard to make out exactly what was happening thanks to all the water, but when I regained some semblance of where the parties landed, I figured out two things quickly: Aunt Tillie was completely dry and Thistle looked as if she’d been through a tsunami.
“I’m going to kill you, old lady,” Thistle screeched once she’d spit out the water she’d ingested, lurching toward Aunt Tillie. “You’d better start running.”
Clove snickered as she took in the scene. “I’m so glad I’m back.”
I grinned at her. “Me too.”
IT TOOK ALMOST FORTY-FIVE MINUTES FOR Thistle to calm down enough to be in the same room with Aunt Tillie without threatening to end her life in the vilest manner possible. She’d been shouting potential ideas — including death by Kardashian marathon and drowning in a lake of boiling chocolate — but Aunt Tillie didn’t appear bothered.
“This isn’t my fault,” she explained to me as she sat at the table and claimed the coffee Clove hadn’t touched from my earlier delivery. “I think I’ve made it very clear that it’s every witch for herself when I’m executing a plan. Bay and Clove didn’t get wet. That’s because they knew to stay off the street.”
“Actually, we went out there,” Clove supplied. “Right before it happened, Bay dragged me inside. She said I would thank her.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she faced me. “You were right. You saved my life. Thank you so much.” She moved to throw her arms around me, but Thistle used her hip to intervene.
“What’s up with that?” Thistle barked. The water had caused her eye makeup to run. She looked like a deranged raccoon. “Why did you save Clove? I thought we had an agreement. We save ourselves first, and then, if we have time, we save each other. Clove is always third on the list.”
Clove’s eyes dried almost instantaneously. “What? You guys have an agreement that puts me third? You’re dead to me. I don’t want to know either of you.”
It shouldn’t have been necessary to explain myself, but obviously Thistle wasn’t going to let it go. “I was afraid that the baby might get hurt if the water hit her. She could’ve been knocked down. If she wasn’t pregnant, I would’ve left both of you out there.”
“Hey!” Clove’s eyes flashed.
“I don’t know that I can accept that response,” Thistle argued. “I need to think about it. The odds of that baby being hurt by water are slim.”
“I was playing it safe.” I heaved a sigh and turned my attention to Hazel, who appeared amused by the argument. It was time to get serious. “So, how often do you leave Dani out there alone?”
“Not often,” she replied, sobering. “Maybe once every couple of days — and only for a few hours. You have to understand, there are times I need a break.”
“I understand.” I rubbed my forehead, debating what I should say. “The thing is, I don’t know that Dani should ever be alone. She’s not showing any sign of understanding that what she did was wrong.”
“She’s not,” Hazel agreed. “I’m not sure what the answer is.”
“I already told you the answer,” Aunt Tillie interjected.
“And I told you that we’re not there yet,” I shot back. “There must be another way. She’s a teenager. We can’t kill her.” There. I’d said it. The mere thought made me sick to my stomach, but it was out there.
“Of course we can’t kill her.” Hazel sent me a sympathetic look. “I don’t know that we can change her either. In situations like this, someone has to want to get better. Dani doesn’t. She thinks everything she did is perfectly okay.”
“She’s power-hungry,” Thistle said. “She thinks just because she uses dark magic that she’s more powerful than those unwilling to use it. Maybe the key is to show her the opposite.”
I glanced at my cousin, intrigued. “Meaning?”
“Meaning she needs a lesson in white magic. And not a fluffy one in which she learns to grow plants or change the water flow in the lake. She needs a hard lesson, one that makes her the loser. If she has actual fear — something she’s not feeling despite what happened to Diane — she might realize that adjusting her attitude is the way to go.”
It was an interesting thought. “Do you have any ideas on exactly what sort of lesson we should teach her?”
Aunt Tillie’s hand shot in the air.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I said, though further thought made me wonder if it wasn’t best to unleash Aunt Tillie on Dani. We weren’t quite there — at least not yet.
“I’ll give it some thought,” Thistle replied. “Until then, you’re right. Dani can’t be alone.”
“We have to come up with a schedule,” I said. “Even if it means I spend time out at the camp working remotely. Hazel needs time off. Dani is too much for any one of us.”
“We can take shifts,” Clove volunteered. “I can go out there a few afternoons each week. Now that I’m back from my honeymoon I have free time before the baby comes.”
Thistle and I shook our heads in tandem.
“Absolutely not,” I said, firm. “You can’t go anywhere near her.”
Hurt flashed across Clove’s face. “Why not?”
“You’re pregnant,” Aunt Tillie interjected. “If Dani wants to go after us, you would make an easy target. You can’t go out there. It has to be the three of us helping Hazel.”
“We might be able to talk Mom and the aunts into going a time or two,” I added. “We have to come up with a plan. That cabin is warded from top to bottom. Maybe it’s time to ward the property, too. It will take a lot of power, but it might be our best bet.”
“I have books that might help us with that back at the inn,” Aunt Tillie offered. “I’ll do some reading. For now, we just have to watch the kid and make sure she doesn’t fly off the handle again. That’s the best we can hope to do.”
It was a sad realization, but she was right. We were out of our depth with Dani, and the truly frightening thing was that the teenager
knew it.
Ten
I met Landon outside the police station just as his shift was ending.
“Did you miss me that much?” he asked, breaking into a grin as he wrapped his arms around my waist, dipping me low for a kiss. “That’s kind of sweet. I missed you too.”
I accepted the kiss because I thought it was best to play along. Plus, well, he was a really good kisser. The only reason we stopped is because Chief Terry started making throat-clearing sounds that weren’t exactly conducive to romance.
“You really know how to ruin a fun time,” Landon complained, shooting him a dark look. “I mean, seriously, is there a reason you have to make those noises?”
Chief Terry’s smile was serene. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His eyes flicked to me. “Your mother is making pot roast for dinner. You guys are coming to the inn, right?”
One of my favorite things about Chief Terry was that he enjoyed family dinners. He knew going in that there would be drama, but it didn’t matter. As long as he got to spend time with Mom and me, he was happy. Unfortunately, he was going to be disappointed tonight.
“I’ve already been on the phone with Mom,” I hedged, darting my eyes to Landon. “She’s going to pack a picnic basket for Thistle and me to take. That way we’ll have dinner at the ready.”
Landon’s eyes narrowed. “And where will you and Thistle eat this dinner?”
I didn’t blame him for being wary. He’d obviously put together the fact that I wasn’t waiting for him at the end of his shift because I missed him.
“The camp.”
His frown grew more pronounced. “Why are you going to the camp?”
“Because Hazel can’t possibly take care of Dani twenty-four hours a day.” I calmly related the tale of my afternoon. I threw in Aunt Tillie’s terrorizing of Mrs. Little because I knew that would serve as a source of entertainment. When I finished, he seemed frustrated, but resigned.
“One person can’t do this alone,” I explained. “She needs a break.”
“So, naturally that means you have to do it,” he muttered, shaking his head as he turned his attention to Main Street. He was trying to rein in his temper and not say what he was really feeling. He believed Dani was a lost cause. He knew I wasn’t ready to accept that, which meant a fight if he wasn’t careful. That was the last thing he wanted.
“Thistle and I are taking the night shift,” I said. “I talked to Mom and she thinks that she, Marnie, and Twila can take one or two afternoons during the week. Hazel cannot do everything herself. It’s not fair to expect her to.”
“She volunteered,” Landon pointed out.
“She did, but this has to be a group effort.” I was firm. “I’m sorry you’re upset, but I feel this is what I need to do.”
His eyes momentarily flashed with annoyance, but he collected himself. “You don’t have to apologize.” He held up his hand. “You’re doing what you think is right for that girl. It’s just ... how late will you be?”
This was the part he was really going to hate, and I braced myself. “Thistle and I are spending the night.”
“What?” Landon’s eyebrows practically flew off his forehead. “Why do you have to spend the night?”
“Hazel occasionally needs more than two hours of downtime.” I refused to back down despite his obvious annoyance. “Dani has to be watched at all times. Hazel needs at least two nights a week away from her.”
“So ... you and Thistle are trading off on the nights?”
I shook my head. “I think both of us should be there in case Dani tries something. We’re backup for each other against her magic.”
Chief Terry stirred. “Do you think she’ll try something?”
“I don’t know.” I held out my hands and offered him a neutral smile. “It’s hard to say. We need two of us to be safe, though. Dani will sleep in the warded cabin and we’ll be by the bonfire.”
Landon made a sound I couldn’t identify as he scuffed his foot against the ground. The slope of his shoulders told me he wanted to argue but was fighting the effort.
“I’m sorry,” I offered. I meant it. “Maybe you and Marcus can have a guy’s night or something.”
“I don’t want to have a guy’s night with Marcus.” He turned petulant, which made me smile. “I want to have a Bay and Landon night in front of the television — with popcorn and hot chocolate.” He was a very food-oriented individual. “Since that doesn’t appear possible, I guess I’ll be camping with you.”
He surprised me. “You want to go with us?”
“Um, yeah. You guys are going to need to sleep sometime. I’m sure Marcus will head out there, too. We’ll all take turns watching to make sure the kid doesn’t do anything evil.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Maybe not, but I’m not being separated from you.” He smiled. “It’s tragically co-dependent, but now that we live together the idea of spending a night away from you irritates me. I know we did it for a long time, but I would rather sleep on the hard ground with you than on our soft mattress without you.”
I found that an absurdly romantic statement. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He cupped the back of my head and gave me a quick kiss. “It’s time we whip that kid into shape. You’re not going to let this go, so we’ve got to come up with a plan to contain her.”
“It’s not going to be that easy.”
“When has that ever stopped us?”
DANI WASN’T HAPPY WITH THE CHANGING of the guard. Even when she found out it was only one night, her attitude was on full display.
“I don’t understand why I need a babysitter,” she complained, making a face when Thistle indicated she should sit at the picnic table. “I’m an adult. Nobody needs to watch me.”
“Obviously that’s not true,” Landon countered, responding before I could decide what to say. “You were involved in the murder of several people — including your own father — and that means you’re incapable of making good decisions. Until you prove that’s changed, you need a babysitter.”
The look Dani pinned him with was dark. “My father was a bad man who was cheating on my mother. He deserved what he got.”
Landon didn’t as much as flinch at the vitriol Dani spewed as he calmly helped Marcus unpack the picnic basket. “Your father and mother had an understanding. They were both seeing other people. They wanted to stay together for you and your brother, until you were adults. They managed to carve out a harmonious living situation that benefitted everyone, including you.
“It doesn’t matter if your mother was brokenhearted,” he continued. “Nobody deserves to die at the hands of another person. You don’t have the right to kill because you feel like it.”
“Bay killed Aunt Diane.” Dani refused to let it go. “Why doesn’t she need constant babysitters?”
“Your aunt was a menace who was using your magic to further her own agenda,” I replied, finally finding my voice. It was going to be a long night if the arguing continued. “I’m sorry if that’s difficult for you to understand, but it’s the truth. Your aunt was a user.”
This time Dani’s unhappy glare was aimed at me. “She was strong. You’re just saying bad things about her because you didn’t like how strong she was.”
“Bay was obviously stronger,” Thistle countered. “She had no problem taking out your aunt.”
I pinned Thistle with a quelling look, silently admonishing her. Let’s not go there. I cleared my throat and drew Dani’s attention back to me. “I know it’s frustrating to be in your position,” I started, searching for the right words. “Your aunt warped your worldview. It’s not fair ... or right ... or even your fault in some respects. You’re paying a price for her actions now.
“The thing is, you refuse to admit you did anything wrong,” I continued. “Acceptance is the first part of the process. You’ll be stuck in neutral until you acknowledge your wrongdoing and try to make amends for it.”
“And
how am I supposed to do that?” Dani challenged. “My father is dead.”
“He is. You can still apologize to him. Sometimes ... sometimes spirits remain behind. It’s possible he’ll be able to hear you.” In truth, I knew that wasn’t true. Adam Harris, Dani’s father, remained behind in his ghostly form until his murder had been solved. Then he quietly crossed over. Our last conversation revolved around what would become of Dani. He was fearful but knew he could no longer dictate what happened in the realm of the living. He belonged with the dead.
“My mother and brother are no longer at our house,” she persisted.
My shoulders stiffened. “How do you know that?”
“I went looking for them.” Either Dani was too stupid to deny her actions or she wanted me to know she’d been off the campground property. The former would’ve been preferable, but odds were we were dealing with the latter. “Everything has been packed up. The furniture is still there, but all the clothes and my brother’s books are gone. They left.”
I wasn’t expecting to have this conversation for a bit, but apparently I had to prepare myself for a difficult topic. “You frightened your mother and brother.” I was matter-of-fact. “They were well aware of what you planned to do to them. Do you blame them for not wanting to be around you?”
“Um ... yeah. You’re supposed to love your kids no matter what.”
“You can love your children without liking them,” Landon pointed out, using the plastic ladle my mother had provided to start dishing out dinner. “Your mother still loves you. She does not, however, like you. Can you blame her after what you did?”
“I did it for her.”
“Really? You were going to kill her for her?”
“That was Aunt Diane.” Dani jabbed a finger in Landon’s direction. “I didn’t want to hurt my mother. That was her idea.”
“And you went along with it,” Thistle pointed out. “You want to blame her for everything that happened, but you were a willing participant. That’s exactly why you need a babysitter. You might not like it, but there it is.”
To Love a Witch Page 10
