“Let me drive you then,” he said. “You shouldn’t be walking in your condition.”
“My condition is fine,” I assured him. I gulped the air, knowing I was about to say something I might come to regret. “Demetrius, you’re a very nice—uh—vampire, and I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, but I think we should keep our relationship platonic.”
His brow creased. “I’m confused.”
“About which part?”
“The part where you don’t want to jump my bones. That’s never happened before.”
I laughed. “No offense, Demetrius, but you’re what? Hundreds of years old? Surely somewhere along the line, a woman decided not to sleep with you.”
He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so.”
I shrugged helplessly. “It’s not you. You’re a catch, I promise. It’s just that I’m still new here and I need to figure out my life before I get involved in a relationship.”
He flashed his fangs in a last ditch effort to tempt me. I had to be honest, I wavered slightly. “Fair enough. You get settled in. There’s plenty of time to get to know each other. In my experience, friends make the best lovers anyway.”
Holy Vampire Hotness. I quickly pulled myself together. “Thanks. I knew you’d understand.”
He winked at me. “I’m a patient vampire, Emma Hart. When you’re ready to breach the friend zone, you know how to reach me.” He turned around and sauntered down the porch steps, giving me a perfect view of his butt.
“You’re drooling.” Gareth’s voice cut into my salacious thoughts.
I wiped my chin. “Am not.”
“Nicely done, though. I like Dem, but I think you made the smart choice.”
“Is he gone?” Daniel appeared at the top of the stairs.
“He’s gone.”
“What did he want?” he asked.
“To check on me.”
Daniel crossed his arms. “He probably expected you to be unconscious and planned to drain your body of blood.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I said. “Go back to your room.”
“I can’t,” he said. “Magpie is on my bed and he’s staring at me.”
Gareth chuckled. “He is a naughty cat, isn’t he?”
“I have to get to the office and meet Linsey,” I said. “We need to prepare for trial.”
“I wish I could go with you and offer assistance,” Gareth said. “It’s so boring floating around here all day.”
“You should try,” I said. “It would be helpful to have someone with knowledge advising me on the case.”
“I assume you’re talking to Gareth,” Daniel said.
“Sorry, yes.” I turned back to Gareth. “See if you can will yourself there. You have a deep connection to your office. There’s no reason to think you can’t materialize there. What do you have to lose?”
“You’re going to leave me alone with the cat?” Daniel asked.
“Sedgwick is here,” I said. “He’ll protect you.” A white lie. Sedgwick was no more fond of Daniel than he was of Demetrius.
Don’t leave me here with the angel, Sedgwick protested. He’s so depressing.
You’re all a bunch of toddlers, I said. It would be a relief to flee to my office, even if it was to meet with a cranky teenager.
Don’t blame me if you find feathers in your toothbrush, the owl said.
Why would I find feathers…? Never mind.
“See you later, Daniel,” I called. They’d survive the rest of the day.
I hoped.
I lost Gareth as soon as we left our yard, but I carried on walking into town. I figured that if he didn't glide alongside me, he'd find some other way to materialize in the building.
By the time I reached my office, my feet were killing me. At this rate I would need another pair of shoes. I was already wearing out the soles of this pair.
Althea was watering a plant in my office when I entered.
"Any sign of Gareth?" I asked.
She shot me a quizzical look. “Is it possible for me to see any sign of Gareth?"
Good point. "Maybe a chilly breeze or a haunting sound?"
"None of the above."
I sat down at my desk to review Linsey's case again. It was always worth a closer look at the details.
"How about that?" Gareth popped into the office, looking around as though he'd never been here before. "I can't believe it. Somewhere else to go aside from the house. This is a dream come true."
"I'm not convinced that showing up at your musty old office is a dream come true," I said.
Althea jerked her chin toward me. "He's here?"
"To your left," I said. "Wearing the loudest outfit any ghost has a right to wear."
"Tell her she looks fantastic,” Garth said. "Did she lose weight?"
"I am not asking her if she lost weight," I said.
Althea brightened. "I have lost weight. I cut back on the sugar plums and started on the elliptical. It's made a big difference."
"I told her so. Of course she would listen to me after I'm dead." Gareth rolled his eyes.
Althea stared at the empty space where Gareth actually stood. "He's complaining, isn't he? He wants to know why I only started listening to his advice after he died."
I chuckled. "You know him pretty well."
"Working in close quarters will do that to you." She gave me a sharp look. "You should remember that." She strode back to her adjoining office.
I wondered if Althea and I would end up working together for anywhere near as long she’d worked with Gareth. Time was a funny thing in Spellbound.
"So what time is our client due in?" Gareth asked.
"First of all, she is not our client. She is my client. You are merely here to advise."
Gareth folded his arms and floated above the chair. "Do you want my help or not?"
"Of course I do. But I want suggestions, not mandates. Tell me about the potential judges. Talk to me about the prosecutor."
"The prosecutor is a wizard called Rochester. The judge will likely be one of three possibilities for a crime like this. There’s Judge Hester Longbottom, a werepanther. Judge Lee Millville, a dwarf, and Judge Alayna Figueroa, an Amazon."
"Which one do I want it to be?"
He shrugged. "They all see sense. The wizard can get overly excited about pursuing tough sentences, so you need to watch out for that. He seems compelled to lock everybody away for a very long time. Sometimes I suspect he’s in cahoots with the sheriff to wipe the town clean of any and all potential criminal activity."
“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” I asked.
“Not the way they do it,” he replied.
"Noted,” I said. "Are any of the judges tougher than others on sentencing minors?"
"Your client is eighteen,” he said. "She's not a minor."
"I know. She's only eighteen, though. I feel like if a judge is lenient on minors, then he or she will be lenient on an eighteen-year-old. For this type of crime anyway."
Gareth seemed to consider it. "Judge Longbottom. She's the one you want in this case. She had a troubled son."
"What happened?" I asked.
Althea poked her head back in the doorway. "Are you talking about Judge Longbottom's son?"
"How did you know that?" I knew she couldn't hear Gareth.
"Everybody knows. It's a really sad story."
I looked to Gareth and he gestured toward his former assistant. "I'll let her tell it."
"Share with the class, Althea," I said. "Spare no details."
Althea came back into the room and took the chair beside Gareth. It was a shame she couldn't see him.
"There aren't a lot of werepanthers in town, you see," Althea said. "The other packs, like the werewolves, are much bigger. I think Evan felt left out a lot of the time. The packs can be very insular."
I noticed. The tension between the sheriff and Lorenzo Mancini over jurisdiction was probably the tip of the iceberg.
; "Evan started hanging around with some of the less reputable characters in town. Supernaturals much older than him. He was impressionable."
"How old?" I asked.
“Seventeen,” Althea said. "He left school at fifteen. He was an apprentice to one of the elves. A carpenter."
My eyebrows shot up. "An elf carpenter was a disreputable character?"
Althea shook her head sadly. "No, Mickey—that's the elf—tried to be a good role model for Evan. It just wasn't enough. Evan ended up stealing cash from Mickey's business over a period of months."
"What did he do with the money?" I asked.
"Illicit substances. Excessive time with a succubus. Activities your mother doesn't want to know about, especially if she's the town judge." Althea's mouth was set in a straight line.
"So how did he get caught?" I asked.
"It was his mother, actually," Althea said. "And she was the one who turned him in."
Ouch. That had to be tough.
"She spoke at his sentencing," Gareth interjected. "I was there."
"Were you defending Evan?" I asked.
"I was. And I consulted with Hester about the case in advance. She was determined that the court be hard on him. She wanted the maximum penalty. She figured by the time he got out that he would have learned his lesson.”
“So is he still in prison?” I asked.
"Not anymore," Althea said. “He was killed on the inside. A fight with an inmate over stolen playing cards."
"I think Hester regretted her decision to be tough on him in hindsight," Gareth said. "I got the sense that she wishes she herself had been more lenient. That he needed something different than prison to change his path."
"Thanks for the information," I said. "Linsey's here. Gareth, be on your best behavior."
“Do I know any other kind?”
The door swung open and Linsey entered. Althea stood.
"Good afternoon, Linsey,” Althea greeted her. "Can I get you anything to drink?"
"No, I'm good," Linsey said.
"No thank you," I corrected her. Holy crap, I wanted to slap myself. I sounded like my grandmother.
Althea returned to her own office and closed the adjoining door.
Linsey looked the same as the last time I’d seen her, except today her hair was shocking blue, like one of those troll dolls I used to collect. Even the texture looked similar. I wondered how she managed to do that.
"So have you found a loophole yet?" Linsey asked. Attitude was rolling off of her in waves. She didn't seem as relaxed as the first time we met.
"Everything okay, Linsey?"
She glared at me. "I'm about to go on trial. How can everything be okay?"
I tapped my fingers on the desk. "What happened? Did you have a fight with someone? I'm getting a very aggressive vibe from you right now."
She seemed taken aback that I would call her out on her behavior. "I did, actually. My parents."
"What happened?" I asked. "Did you ask them to come to this appointment?"
She nodded and sniffed. "I went by the house to ask them if they'd come. They wouldn't even speak to me. My father stood on the other side of a locked door and wouldn't open it. Like I'm some kind of violent criminal. What's wrong with them?"
"Your parents are berserkers, right?"
“No. I'm adopted. My biological parents died when I was young."
That hit close to home. "How old were you?"
"Five. They went hiking together in the mountains and that was it.”
“That was it? Did they die of exposure?"
Linsey plucked an imaginary thread on the chair. "No, it was a murder-suicide. My dad killed my mom and then himself."
Her revelation nearly knocked me out of my seat. “Where were you?" She obviously had no close relatives if an unrelated couple had adopted her.
"I was with them," she said.
My heart stopped. "You were there?"
"I didn't see anything. I mean, I saw their dead bodies, but I didn't see him do it. He made sure that I was out of the way before he went psycho.”
"You were in the mountains," I said. “How did you survive?"
"When I realized they were dead, I retraced our trail. I met up with a dwarf about halfway back to town. He brought me to the sheriff. I was adopted by my parents not long after.”
Normally that would be a good thing, but in Linsey's case, it didn't seem to have panned out.
"I'm so sorry, Linsey," I said. "What a traumatic experience for you."
"The worst part is," she said, “I’ve always felt like my adoptive parents were a little bit afraid of me. That what my father did might somehow rub off on me. We’re berserkers. We’re known to go crazy. But I behaved all through adolescence. I never gave them a moment’s trouble until last year."
"What happened last year? I saw in your file that there was an incident before graduation."
"I was starting to have problems with my parents. They didn't like my hair or my makeup. Every little thing I did, they seem to take as a sign that I was going to go crazy. It almost became a self-fulfilling prophecy."
"What kind of species are your adoptive parents?"
"They’re leprechauns. They couldn't have children and they desperately wanted a little girl. Then I became available. This little blond girl in braids. I think the taller I grew, the more intimidated they became."
"They’re leprechauns," I said. "It's not hard to be taller than them."
Linsey chuckled. "True. I just think they let their fears get the worst of them. And then, of course, I started acting out because they expected me to act out. It's been a vicious cycle."
"I hate to tell you this, Linsey," I said. "But you're not telling me anything new. What you're describing is very normal in families with a teenager. True, your circumstances suck. I still think you have a chance to turn things around, though. You don’t have to let your past dictate your future.“
Linsey smiled at me, a genuine smile. I felt a rush of warmth spread through my body. Maybe I’d gotten through to her.
“She trusts you,” Gareth said. “That’s good.”
I was so wrapped up in my conversation with Linsey, I’d forgotten he was there.
“I heard you almost died on a broomstick,” Linsey said. “You must be the crappiest witch ever.”
And, that quickly, the teenager was back.
Chapter 9
I moved briskly around the kitchen, trying to fix myself something quick for dinner. Takeout allowed me to be a lazy cook in the human world, and magic allowed me to be a lazy cook here as well. Not that I was complaining.
Gareth watched me from the sidelines, endlessly amused. "Did you not learn how to do anything useful in the human world?"
I wrestled with the pot of sauce, trying to keep it from bubbling over. "I took care of myself," I shot back. "Just because I don't know how to use all of these magical kitcheny things doesn't mean I’m incapable."
He laughed. "Magical kitcheny things? You're holding a pot."
"If you're going to stand here and mock me, then do it somewhere else."
"That doesn't make any sense," he said.
I tried not to trip over Magpie as I shifted back to the cutting board. It was wonderful not to have to chop vegetables myself. Lucy, my fairy friend, had explained enchanted knives to me, so I picked one up at the Wish Market. I watched now as it diced my vegetables into neat little squares.
"Do you know anything about covens?" I asked.
"I'm a vampire. What makes you think I know anything about covens?"
"Well, presumably you were a vampire before you got trapped in Spellbound. Did you ever have encounters with witches outside of this town?"
"Aye, back in the old country. Witches were different then. A lot scarier."
"Because they were more powerful?"
"No," he said. "Because they were so ugly.” He shuddered. “It was frightening to behold them."
I threw a dish towel at him, but it pa
ssed right through him and fell to the floor. "You're horribly sexist."
He chuckled to himself. "It's so easy to get a rise out of you. I wonder if this will ever get dull."
"So tell me about the covens in the old country. How are they different other than being uglier?”
"They were much more into rituals, for one thing. And far more secretive."
"That's probably just the result of the witches here being trapped in the town," I said. "They don't have the luxury of being secretive." Not in a town with a gossip chain as potent as Spellbound’s.
"I don't pretend to know everything about the coven here," Gareth said. "But I know far more than I knew about any of the other covens I encountered outside this place."
"Did you ever meet anyone like me? A witch with an owl as a familiar? Or one that could see ghosts?"
"If I had, I wouldn't have known it. I wasn't a ghost then, was I? And we had plenty of owls. Hard to say whether any were psychically linked to the witches." He gave me an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Emma. I do wish I could help you more. I think it's important to know about one's origin."
"I never felt that way before," I said. "But I have to say, it's been weighing on me ever since I arrived. Now that I know I'm a witch, I'd like to know everything."
"What's stopping you?" he asked. "You have access to books, to the library."
"Well, I am busy."
"Not the right kind of busy," he said with a wink.
"Gareth, there will come a day when you regret wanting me to be the right kind of busy. We live together, remember? What will be seen cannot be unseen."
His expression softened. "It's a big house," he said. "I always thought there was plenty of room for more."
“Don't you dare start talking to me about babies," I said. I scooped the vegetables into a bowl and returned to the stovetop where the pan was heating up over a magical blue flame. I dumped the vegetables into the pan and listened to them sizzle.
"Bear in mind, love, that I must now live vicariously through you. As depressing as that is."
"If you could touch things, then you could help me research." I had to figure out a way for Gareth to interact with solid objects. At least it would give him something to do. "Who in town knows anything about ghosts? I know I'm the only witch who can see you, but surely there must be some other kind of psychic in this town."
Doom and Broom (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 9
