by Lola Kidd
“I think this might be it,” Rory said.
He squinted at the painting they were in front of. It was a picture of a town gathering at a gazebo. “I don’t see anything that would help us.”
Rory pointed “Look closer. And it’s called the Trial of the Unforgiven.”
There was a figure in the middle of the group with blond hair. The person was facing away from the painter but it was something.
“I think I know where to go. Come on,” Rory said, pulling him out of the bureau.
Two
“Where to now?” Cross asked.
They had been driving around the town for twenty minutes. In a town as small as Sand Springs that meant they had driven from one side of town to the other. Twice.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. The gazebo in the painting was easy to find, but there had been no ghost at the site. “I’m starving though. Can we get food?”
They went to the only diner open in town and got food.
“I can’t believe you ordered another cheeseburger.” Cross smiled and shook his head.
“I like meat. Leave me alone,” Rory laughed. “I really thought that painting was the answer. I mean it had to be a witch trial. We need to go back to the visitor’s center and ask Mrs. Thomas about it.”
“You talking about that witch painting?” the waitress had come back to check on them.
“Yes, actually. It looked like there was a story behind it,” Cross said. He gave the waitress a smoldering look. “We found the gazebo, but there was nothing about the painting there.”
“Well,” the waitress said, leaning toward him, “there is a story behind that alright. You wanna hear it?”
“Of course,” Rory said. The waitress looked her up and down and then slid into the booth next to Cross. He gave Rory a look, but she didn’t react. If the lady wanted to press up against Cross, she could do it all day as long as she told them more about the painting.
“Back in the late 1800s this was a very different town,” the waitress began. “It wasn’t all rich folks like it is now. Back then it was mostly miners and railroad men. There was one family that lived on the outskirts of town. The lady was accused of being a witch by another woman in town. Said the woman had come in and stolen her unborn baby and that was why she had a miscarriage.”
The waitress paused for dramatic effect. Rory feigned a look of horror. “No way!”
Cross leaned in against the woman. “Wow, that is some scary stuff.”
Miley, according to her nametag, smiled at Cross. “It sure is. Anyway. Other women in town started saying the same thing. After enough women started telling the story, the men folk got in a tizzy and dragged the accused to the gazebo for a trial.”
“What happened to the woman?” Rory asked with bated breath. She was hamming it up for Miley’s benefit. She knew perfect well how the story was going to end. With a roasted witch.
“Well, the town’s people let her go because the local sheriff said they couldn’t go around lynching white women like barbarians or something. The woman lived just outside of town near the mill. And after they let her go, her house was burned to the ground less than a week later. But that isn’t the shocking part.”
“Go on,” Cross spoke right next to Miley’s ear. Rory could see her shiver. A wave of jealously hit her hard. She wanted to tear the cheap extensions out of the bottle-blonde's head. She tried not to scowl at the woman and knew she failed by the look Miley gave her. As if she actually had a chance at Cross.
“The woman had a family, a husband, and a son, but she was the only one to die in the fire. The son and husband both went missing after the fire. Even better? The woman who had originally accused her of witchcraft disappeared too. Rumor has it the two lived together a state over after splitting town,” Miley raised an eyebrow and smirked at Rory.
What the fuck? Was that supposed to be some kind of challenge?
“So, where are you two staying?” Miley asked, her story finished. “I live in town and if you guys aren’t busy tonight maybe we could hang out and do…something. You know the three of us.”
Oh dear Goddess. That wasn’t a challenging look, she was hitting on her. On both of them! Gross.
“We’re only passing through,” Cross said blandly. “Could we get the check?”
Miley looked pissed. She slammed the check down hard enough on the table to spill some of Cross’ water.
“Poor thing,” Rory said. “Guess that animal virility of yours is irresistible…to most women that is.”
Cross put money on the table. “It’s only a matter of time, darlin’. You’re not going to be able to help yourself.”
“I’m doing a pretty good job so far,” Rory said. “Well, I think we know where to go next.”
“Yeah,” they went to his bike outside. “You don’t think it’s strange that the ghost hasn’t shown up yet? I mean we’re right in her town now.”
Rory pulled her long blond hair into a low bun so it would fit better in her helmet. “Not really. Ghosts are tricky. Especially one that’s been around as long as she’s been.”
“I think I can find the old mill pretty easily. I saw a sign when we were driving around aimlessly.” Cross said.
He wasn’t lying. They drove around the area near the mill for almost a quarter of an hour before hitting pay dirt. Rory was so glad to find the house. She was going to suggest finding a car rental when they got back to the cabin. She didn’t think she could keep riding on Cross’ bike. It was really getting her too worked up. By the time they got to any destination, she was always sweaty and quivering with lust.
The sight of the burned house helped kill her desire a little. There wasn’t anything left of the house but the earth where it had been was permanently charred. All that destruction over a man. What a waste.
“Where is she?” Cross asked, looking around. “Hey, ghostie! We’re here. Don’t wanna come out and play now that we found you?”
“You stupid mongrel.” Dirt flew up at Cross. “You shouldn’t be desecrating my resting place with your filthy presence.”
“What are you talking about? You invited me here.”
Beatrice finally materialized. “I invited my descendent. She’s the one that let her dog tag along for the trip.”
Cross growled low in his chest. Rory put up her hand. “Enough!”
The ghost pouted. “I really can’t believe that an ancestor of mine was cohabitating with a wolf. I mean, sister, do you know what his kind does?”
“His name is Cross and I’m Aurora,” Rory said. “I don’t really care what you think about his kind. I want to know why you sought me out.”
“No, you sought me out this time I believe,” Beatrice correct. “If you found this place than you’ve heard what a lowdown dirty piece of scum my Albert was.”
“If this was how you acted all the time, I can see why he left you,” Cross said. More dirt hit him in the face.
“Yes, we heard,” Rory said, ignoring Cross and Beatrice’s fighting. “It really is a shame what happened to you, but why did you have to come and see me?”
“Men are all the same, you know,” Beatrice said, glaring at Cross. “You may think you’re getting more loyalty with a dog, but I am telling you, he’s just like the rest of them.”
“We aren’t together,” Rory said quickly. “We’re hiding out here and he’s more of my protector. Nothing else.”
Beatrice laughed. “I’m not human anymore, dear sister. I can see what’s going on between the two of you very clearly. I believe the wolves would say that you have claimed each other.”
Rory gritted her teeth. “Fine. We’ve claimed each other. But why is the ghost world talking about me?”
“Oh, that,” Beatrice said. “I can’t believe you haven’t heard already. Some dark fae are looking for you. THE dark fae actually.”
“You mean the Lost Tribe,” Rory asked. Cross came to stand by her.
“How did the ghosts hear that the Lost Tribe
wants Rory?” Cross asked.
“We aren’t pinned to this dimension like you fragile creatures,” she explained.
“Really? Because I thought ghosts were chained to their places of rest,” Cross asked, playing innocent. He covered his face before the dirt hit him.
“On this plane of existence, yes, but we can travel at will on other planes. Why do you think you don’t see much of us, stupid dog?” she turned to Rory. “I feel like there is someone I need to speak with about this whole dog thing. It is wholly unacceptable.”
“She’s an adult, ghost,” Cross sneered. “She can be with whoever she wants to. I don’t think you’re the best judge of character anyway.”
“Why do the Lost Tribe want me?” Rory pressed. She was so close! Cross had been right. The vampires must be working with the Lost Tribe. They must have found a way out of the alternative dimension. That was bad for everyone. They were going to have to call a council. Shit would get real very fast if the Lost Tribe managed to cross back over.
“I think it has something to do with getting back here. Why they would want to I have no idea.” Beatrice shuddered. “This place is awful for superior creatures. We have to hold back and not be our true selves. The witches should have sent our kind to the lost dimension. It could have been a utopia.”
“That’s great and all, but if the Lost Tribe wants to come back it’s going to be for revenge,” Cross said grimly. “They’ll start with your kind first you know. They’re going to wipe all your brothers and sisters out of existence first. I bet all they’ve been doing is training to do it once they get over here.”
Beatrice looked horrified. “No! They can’t do that.”
“They can and will,” Cross said. “We should go, Rory. There’s no point in us being in Sienna anymore. We’re going to need to call in a lot more fire power than my pack and your coven.”
“Your coven!” Beatrice said. “I’m going to tell your coven all about you and the doggie. They’re going to put an end to this little dalliance.”
“Are you fucking batty?” Cross asked. “The Lost fucking Tribe is trying to get their hands on her for God knows what reason and that’s what you’re worried about? Get a fucking grip.”
“She’s told us everything she knows,” Rory said. “You're right, we can leave. There’s no point in staying up here.”
She went to put her helmet back on.
“Wait!” Beatrice said. “I have something you need. I’m not completely useless even if I am a ghost.”
“Well?” Rory said. She really hated dealing with ghosts. Reading about their lack of direction was one thing but having to actually speak with one was maddening. Without crossing over, their spirits lost touch with the world and they got a little disjointed mentally. There was little Beatrice could offer them. She probably just wanted to keep her audience longer.
“I have a spell that will kill a vampire cold,” she said slyly.
“Bullshit. Get on the bike, Rory.” Cross revved his engine.
“He’s right. There is no spell like that. If there were, vampires would have been long gone.”
“Not if it was a partner spell,” Beatrice said. “And it had to be performed by a fairy and a witch.”
Cross looked at Rory quizzically.
“She’s right,” Rory said dazed. “That spell would be useless. If you can find a witch and fairy that get along, it would be almost impossible to find two whose magic was compatible.”
“So then it’s worthless,” Cross said. “Let’s go.”
He was right. But how to explain the beauty of a spell like that. It didn’t matter that she or her coven would never use it. Just having the spell was worth sticking around for a few more minutes.
“You want the spell,” Beatrice said elated. “I knew you would.”
“Then tell me,” Rory demanded.
Dust and dirt flew up as Beatrice wrote on the ground. When she was finished, Rory stood back and examined her work.
“You didn’t finish,” she said coming to the last word.
“About that,” Beatrice said looking sheepish. “I don’t have the entire spell per say.”
“She’s bullshitting us again,” Cross warned.
“The rest is with a good fairy I know,” Beatrice said glaring at Cross. “You’ll have to go find her if you want the rest. Her name is Periwinkle and she lives near Sienna. You’ll be able to find her.”
Beatrice disappeared before Cross or Rory could say anything else.
Three
“A good fairy?! Are you fucking kidding me?” Cross asked, kicking dirt again.
“That’s actually really easy,” Rory said. “But don’t you dare call her a good fairy or she won’t help us.”
Cross nodded. “They hate the f-word. Which is really fucking stupid if you ask me.”
“It’s because of humans. Fairy sounds like a twinkling little sprite. Not too flattering if you’re a thousand-year-old, magic-wielding creature.”
“Sure, ok. Get on the bike, Blondie. We got to get back to town before nightfall.”
Rory climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms tightly around him. Ever since his wolf had claimed her, she was a lot less afraid of the bike. Thank god. It made it so much easier to pay attention to the road. They had spent a lot more time than he wanted to out in Sand Springs. He had to speed to get back into Sienna by nightfall.
He headed for the supermarket. They had forgotten to pick up supplies that morning. He was getting real sick of diner food.
“What do you want to eat tonight?” Rory asked as they walked through the produce section.
“I don’t really care. I can cook just about anything though.”
“Really? I thought a compound full of men would be ordering out pizza every night.”
“Ha ha,” Cross said. “We don’t have ‘women’s work’ besides bearing pups and riding bitch.”
Rory looked appalled. “Does that mean I’m the bitch in our situation?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Cross laughed. “It’s just what we call the back seat. No man would ride on back unless he was gravely injured, like right on death’s door.”
“Whatever.” She looked at a box of pre-made pasta on the shelf. He could tell she was annoyed. He didn’t make up the term! She was so fucking moody.
“I was thinking we could have steaks tonight. Since you love meat and all,” he suggested.
“Works for me. We can do baked potatoes too. Make it a whole manly-man meal.”
“We gotta get some good whiskey too then.”
She laughed. “Let’s not go too far. We are still in hiding from dangerous immortal creatures and werewolf bikers. I don’t think it’s a good time to get sloshed.”
They grabbed meat and bread to make sandwiches for lunch and more breakfast foods. He wanted to get enough breakfast and lunch food for a few days, but she argued it wouldn’t all fit in her backpack. She was hoping to be home before they could use it all he figured. She didn’t need to say it. He could tell she was dreading going back to the cabin for the night. She was so anxious. He couldn’t wait to just get the mating over with. She was going to be so much calmer after.
He paid for everything and they headed back to the cabin. As soon as they got back he started warming up the grill out back.
“I’m going to shower, if that’s ok?” she said.
“That’s fine. I’ll get in after dinner.”
He stayed outside with the grill most of the time she was showering. If she was going to be up to her old tricks in the shower, he didn’t want to hear this time. It wouldn’t matter since the only way for her to truly get off was between his legs. Nothing else would work now that she had accepted his claim.
He contemplated their situation while he made dinner. He had never heard of a witch being able to accept a wolf’s claim before. Neither could a fae as far as he had heard. Though, it’s not like either party would want it to get around if it had happened. They hadn’t told anyone
yet. She wasn’t happy about it either. He expected most witches in her situation would feel the same.
That alone made her different than other witches. She had magic potential off the charts too, not that she knew about that. As normal as she insisted she was, there was a lot more to Aurora Silver than met the eye. He really knew how to pick ‘em. Of all the wolves and humans he had ever met, he didn’t know how it was a witch, and one like her that, had to be his mate. Not that he was complaining. She was beautiful and smart and strong. She was everything he would have hoped for in a mate.
He just needed to find a way to get her to feel the same about him. She felt it now, but she didn’t want to feel it. He didn’t know how he could fix that yet, but he would. After saving her life and getting the Lost Tribe to leave her alone. It was going to be one hell of a summer.
When he finished the food, he realized she had been in the shower a long time. His wolf wasn’t going nuts so she wasn’t in danger. He went inside to see what she was up to.
***
The shower had been exactly what she needed. She had gotten herself off twice in the shower, a record for her. It hadn’t done any good. The ache was still there. But at least she was clean now. Riding a moped she never got as grimy as on Cross’ motorcycle.
When she finished she had put on her bra and panties and lay back on her bed. It had been so hot outside all day, but at night it cooled off to a comfortable temperature. She must have nodded off, because the next time she opened her eyes Cross was standing over her.
“Dinner’s done,” he said, eyes traveling down her body. “You didn’t come down so I came to check on you. Make sure nothing had happened.”
