Queso de los Muertos (Eastwind Witches Book 4)

by Nova Nelson

  And Tanner didn’t have a clue about any of it.

  Ah, to be ignorant of the spirit realm. Must be nice.

  I forced a smile as Liberty handed me the plaque, slapping Tanner so firmly on the back that it caused him to stumble forward. Then the genie threw his arms around me, and I did as Tanner instructed, sucking in a lungful of air and letting it out slowly.

  It was good advice, though Liberty smelled so delicious, like chai and fig, that his embrace wouldn’t have been the worst place to suffocate to death.

  When he released me and I looked out over the oblivious crowd, I saw a beautiful face framed by blonde hair in a choppy pixie cut staring back at me like an accusation. Man, oh man, did the guilt wash over me. And not just the usual amount of guilt I felt when something went awry in the spirit realm that was probably my fault. A more potent dose, the kind only the piercing gaze of Sheriff Gabby Bloom could instill with her angelic powers of judgment.

  Yep, I would have some explaining to do.

  I hurried Tanner off the stage before the applause had died down. I needed to find someone else who could see the spirits—while avoiding Bloom for now. But that only left Ruby True (who had refused to leave her home for the festivities, claiming this was the best reading day of the year since there was no one in the streets making noise), and of course, Ted.

  He would probably still be over by his table, selling birdhouses. So, that’s where I headed.

  “Nora, a word?” I spun around and found myself face-to-face with the sheriff. Aw, hellhound. She sure wasted no time tracking me down.

  The angel was even more intimidating when she wasn’t dressed in her tan sheriff’s uniform and her femininity was on full display. She radiated stunning beauty, like the kind of painting kept behind glass behind a velvet rope.

  I desperately wanted to stay on her good side, and not just because she had the ability to lock me in Ironhelm Penitentiary for the rest of my days if I really screwed up, but because I genuinely liked the woman. She meant well, and that was all I could ask of anyone.

  “Something wrong, Sheriff?” Tanner said, stepping in.

  Bloom beamed at him. “No, Tanner. Everything’s fine.”

  Serenity washed over his face, and while I had only the vaguest grasp of angelic powers, I strongly suspected this was some sort of magic she possessed, the ability to soothe anxiety.

  “I’ll be back in a second,” I said, handing off the plaque to him. “Just need to have a word with Gabby. Meet you over at the sporting green for the Titan games?”

  Bloom and I found a quiet spot behind the Pixie Mixie’s small burlap tent, and I let her speak first.

  “To be clear, you’re not in trouble, Nora.”

  I felt my shoulders relax but did my best not to show it, which would be a physical admission of guilt.

  “Technically, I’m off duty,” she continued, “so this should really be none of my concern, but”—she paused, squinting at me not unkindly as she pressed her lips together—“something rode in on that wind, didn’t it?”

  The breath I’d been holding whooshed out of me. “Yes. You can’t see it, though, right?”

  “No, but I assume you can, which is why I’m checking in. Anything I should know about?”

  Anything she should know about? Spell yes, there was. But should I tell her?

  Why not? Hiding it from her was as good as admitting I had caused it intentionally. And I definitely hadn’t done that. “Yeah. Some spirits rolled in.”

  She nodded. “What kind of spirits?”

  “A variety. Elf, leprechaun, witch, werebear, and ogre.”

  She bit back a smile. “Interesting. Those happen to represent five of the seven council members.”

  “Yep.”

  “And what are those spirits doing?”

  It was a good question. What were they doing?

  I looked back up at the stage where the High Council was cautiously exiting.

  “Looks like they’re mostly just lecturing the High Council.”

  Gabby’s eyebrows shot up and her mouth opened gently. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have any reason to believe members of the High Council are in danger?”

  “No. Not really.”

  Gabby inhaled deeply through her nose and lifted her chin on the exhale. “To be clear, you’re telling me a breeze rolled in and brought with it spirits whose sole focus appears to be lecturing the High Council?”

  “Seems so.”

  She stared dreamily over my shoulder, a serene smile resting on her lips like a feather on a soft pillow. “Goddess bless Lunasa.” She refocused on me. “Not to be vindictive, but it sure is nice when justice is served.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, you didn’t mention any ghost genies or vampires, which makes sense, considering neither crosses into the astral plane upon death. And Liberty Freeman and Sebastian Malavic are the only two council members who don’t constantly lecture me about how to do my impossible job of keeping this town safe, which I’ve done since long before Cordelia, Quinn, Darius, Siobhan, or Octavia were even an itch in their parents’ nether regions.”

  I hadn’t expected this from Sheriff Bloom. “That’s a little bit … vengeful.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I guess that’s because I am.”

  “Do you disapprove?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. I actually respect you more for it. Don’t know what that says about me.”

  She leaned to the side and waved to someone over my shoulder. “Oh, probably nothing,” she said absently as she nodded and motioned that she would be right over. She returned her attention to me. “Echo Chambers is requesting an ear—probably trying to get me to arrest someone for a crime of fashion—but before I go, I suppose I should ask one last thing.” Her expression shifted and it was like a storm cloud passing overhead. “Did you intentionally conjure those spirits?”

  “No!” I said, taken aback. “I would never conjure a spirit. Not on purpose. I have enough of those jerks to deal with.”

  She remained silent for a moment as she inspected me through narrow eyes, then she guffawed loudly. “Makes sense. And I believe you. Now I’d better get going before Echo throws a fit.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “Lovely talking to you, Nora. And while I assume you’ll be looking into how to banish the spirits, don’t, you know, stress yourself out with it. There’s no hurry.” She winked and walked away, and I was left standing there in awe.

  She was not an avenging angel, per se, but a vengeful one.

  Was Sheriff Bloom … my new hero?

  I glanced around in disbelief and spotted Ted staring at me, his black robes standing out against the colorful clothing and decorations of the festival. Then I remembered that I needed to ask him about the ghosts, to double-check that I wasn’t crazy—you’d think I’d be used to seeing ghosts after six months of it, but no.

  However, as soon as my eyes found him, he turned quickly, and ducked off through the crowd. Strange, even for Ted.

  And yet, not the strangest thing I’d seen that day. Not even by a long shot.

  7

  “I didn’t know fire could do that,” I said, my arm around Tanner’s waist as we watched the last of the Promethean Sculpting challenge.

  “To be honest,” Tanner said, “neither did I. The South Winds really stepped it up this year.”

  I’d been totally unprepared for the spectacle that was the Titan Games. No one had mentioned that they would be the most incredible thing I’d ever seen in my life. The Astraen Dance by Eastwind’s most talented North Wind witches, the Atlas Throw led mostly by ogres and werebears, the Epimetetholon where the best and brightest answered round after round of increasingly difficult questions ranging from history to astronomy to riddles—I couldn’t believe any of it. My mouth was dry from it hanging open for so long.

  Meaning, of course, that I could use a drink.

  I looked around
for the nearest vendor. Evening was creeping in on the horizon, and already Eastwinders had taken it upon themselves to try another great feat—drink the town dry.

  Octavia Panatgruel and Anton Gargantua stumbled by, arms slung over each other’s shoulders as they chatted more verbosely than I knew ogres could. In their free hands, each held a pitcher-sized beer stein. Only the last few fingers’ worth remained in either, and I guessed that wasn’t their first.

  “Drinking started a bit early this year?” I asked.

  “Nah,” said Tanner. “This is just about right.”

  “Should we migrate over to Sheehan’s then?”

  His eyes roamed over my body. “I had something else in mind.”

  “Oh?”

  “A little surprise.”

  “Go on …”

  “Back at my place.” He pulled me in close.

  “You know I hate surprises,” I said playfully.

  “I do. And I’m set on changing your mind about that tonight.”

  Despite the crowd pushing past us on all sides, for a moment, Tanner was the only person around. So thoughtful, so kind, so freaking sexy …

  “Nora,” said an airy female voice behind me. “Nora Ashcroft, right?”

  I shut my eyes against the intrusion and turned. “Yes.”

  Siobhan Astrid gazed down at me, her eyes the color of sand, hair like spun gold flowing down to her waist. “May I, um, have a word?”

  I tossed a quick look to Tanner, an apology, and said, “Sure.”

  I followed her a few paces off, and she leaned close before saying, “You can see spirits, right?”

  Yeah, I figured. “Yes.”

  “And, um, this might sound strange, but Donovan Stringfellow, whom I believe you know quite well, mentioned that you’re not only able to see the spirits, but banish them.”

  “Yes, I can. I assume you’re wondering if I can help rid you of the two hovering just behind you.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “Indeed.”

  “I can’t at this very moment, but I promise I’ll work on it. One question: do you know them?”

  “I know one of them,” she said. “My great grandfather, Anwyl. I recognize the voice without a doubt.”

  One of the spirits paused briefly in his lecture to wave at me, and I assumed that meant he was Anwyl. “And the other one?”

  “No idea,” said Siobhan.

  The other ghost turned his attention to me. “You could just ask me directly,” he said, “and I’d be glad to tell you. I’m Dewain, father of Dorran, leader of the Vernegal Fae and Twice King of—”

  I held up a hand to stop him. “Okay, I don’t need your life story. How do you know Siobhan?”

  “She’s my great-great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter.”

  Okay. A little elven family reunion then. Were all the spirits related to those they lectured? It made sense. What else was family for, if not to haunt you from beyond the grave with tedious admonishments?

  Or that was the impression I’d gotten about most families, though my parents, may they rest in peace, hardly ever lectured me, and my aunt had mostly pretended I didn’t exist.

  I addressed Siobhan again. “Like I said, I’ll look into it.”

  “Soon?” Her eyes pleaded with me. “I don’t know how much longer I can hear about the ‘good old days.’ And they’re, um,” she looked around to make sure no one would overhear, “a little racist.”

  “It’s called standards,” said Dewain. “Never in a thousand years would I have consorted with the likes of leprechauns and—Earth save us—vampires.”

  Siobhan arched an eyebrow at me like, see?

  I nodded. “Point taken. I’ll get right to work.”

  When I rejoined Tanner, he raised his hands, palms up. “And that was about …?”

  As we followed a trickle of people down the mountain, I said, “I’ll tell you later. Once we’re at your place.”

  He chuckled. “Nora, conversation isn’t part of the plan.”

  I felt heat rush to my face as I stared up at him. He was looking at me like he hadn’t eaten in days and I was a cut of medium-rare filet mignon. I cleared my throat, trying not to appear as intimidated and excited as I was. “Well, I’ll keep it short, then.”

  “I smell pheromones.”

  I hadn’t heard Grim approach—he was frighteningly silent on his paws for an animal so large. I looked to my right and there he was, padding next to us down the mountain. “We’re going to Tanner’s. Any interest?” I asked. “I know Monster would be thrilled to see you.”

  “I’m sure she would. And I don’t entirely dislike her. I mean, she’s alright for a cat.”

  “Does that mean you’re coming?”

  “Yeah, no. Not with the stank you two are giving off. You know I have extremely sensitive hearing, right?”

  “You’ve mentioned it. Speaking of which, you still hearing the hellhounds?”

  “Oh yeah. Those doofuses won’t shut up.”

  “What do you think it’s about? The sudden activity, I mean.”

  “I have a theory, but—”

  “Leaving so soon?”

  Donovan jumped in front of us and began backpedaling down the hill. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Oh, sorry to interrupt. I noticed you and Tanner weren’t talking, but I didn’t realize you were having a conversation all the same.”

  “Huh?” Tanner said, oblivious.

  “She was talking with Grim,” said Donovan.

  “How do you know?” Tanner asked, the question like a jab.

  Donovan reached out and drew a fingertip across my forehead. I went to swat him away, but he’d already pulled back. “She gets this crease on her forehead when she’s communicating with him.”

  Tanner leaned forward, craning his neck around to inspect my face. “Never noticed. That’s … observant.” He blinked rapidly, his eyes pinballing between Donovan and me.

  I knew what Donovan was doing. And, dang it, it was effective, even while I was totally onto him and his tricks.

  “Is he right?” Tanner asked. “Were you and Grim talking?”

  “Yeah,” I said casually before turning to Donovan. “Kinda creepy that you’ve been watching me that closely. Don’t you have better things to do?”

  “Nope,” he said. “You two going to Sheehan’s, I guess?”

  Tanner spoke quickly, and was it just my imagination or did his voice sound more like the way he’d spoken to Count Malavic in the tent than his usual chummy tone with his best friend? “No. We’re going back to my place.”

  It was there, for just a split second, in Donovan’s eyes. The injury. The jealousy. As much as he tried to hide it, I saw it there, and I wondered if Tanner did, too, or if it was just my knowledge of what happened in the Deadwoods that gave me the ability to pick up on that involuntary reaction.

  “You two have fun, then,” he said, grinning. “Guess I’ll have to drink one for each of you at Sheehan’s.”

  Tanner’s usual friendliness returned as he said, “Be sure to buy one for Eva, too.”

  Donovan pointed at him and winked. “You know I’m all over that.”

  Wait, what?

  “See ya,” Donovan said, then he turned and hurried down the mountain ahead of us.

  “What was that last bit about?”

  Tanner threw his arm around my shoulder. “What last bit?”

  “The part about Eva. Is there something going on, or—”

  Tanner laughed. “Oh, you know Donovan. He likes to welcome new witches to town.”

  “When you say welcome, you mean—”

  “Not sure what I mean, exactly. He and I don’t talk about that. All I know is he was awfully hospitable to Selena when she arrived a few years ago, and he and Zoe spent quite a lot of time together when she first came in from Avalon. And now Evangeline’s here, and he’s taken her to Lyre Lounge the past few weekends. He’s sort of Eastwind’s one-man welcome committee for all the new, single, female witches. Well, e
xcept for you.”

  “Right. Except for me.”

  “Is Grim choking?” Tanner asked, concerned.

  That’s what it sounded like to Tanner? Interesting. Because from my perspective, it was quite clearly sniggering. “He’ll survive,” I said, then added, “or he’ll die. I’m not too concerned either way.”

  As we reached the bottom of the mountain and headed into town toward Tanner’s small attached cottage on Amethyst Lane, I knew exactly where my mind should be, and that was on Tanner, on the surprise he had in store for me. Maybe if I was a better person, if I were really New Nora, that’s where my mind would be.

  But it wasn’t where my mind was. Not at all.

  8

  “Sorry, Monster,” Tanner said as his familiar greeted us at the door. “Grim decided not to come.”

  The munchkin cat hissed and slinked up the narrow staircase leading off from the entry hall up to the study … and Tanner’s bedroom.

  It all came down to this. Did we go upstairs or into the tiny, under-decorated living room?

  More importantly, which way did I want to go?

  Upstairs. Definitely upstairs. Duh. Why was I even wondering? Stupid.

  Tanner veered into the living room.

  Oh thank Gaia.

  “Let’s hear it,” he said, flopping down on his overstuffed couch, leaning back, and spreading out. He patted the cushion next to him.

  Settling in, I jumped into it. “That breeze that blew in right after the judges tasted our entry—”

  “Our award-winning entry,” he corrected with a sexy half-grin.

  “Right. That wind was, like, chock full of ghosts.”

  The upturned corner of his lips went slack as his eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. “Come again?”

  “Just brimming with them. Ghosts galore.”

  His head remained still, but his eyes darted around the room. “Are there ghosts with us right now?”