Honey House

by LAURA HARNER

  My coffee sloshed when I slammed the cup on the table, and I quickly moved the book out of the spill zone. I couldn’t believe that on top of everything else, someone called the Dark Maker spell on me. Someone must really hate me.

  I was determined to spend the day alone reading through the Book of Shadows until I found a way to remove whatever spell was within the walls of my apartment. I never wanted a command performance from a man again.

  I was so lost in self-recriminations that I didn’t even glance at the caller ID when my phone rang.

  “KC,” I snapped.

  “KC, I’m sorry. I know my behavior was uncalled for. Can you forgive me?” asked an unfamiliar voice.

  “Who is this?” I demanded.

  “Edwin. Edwin Merkham. Don’t hang up. I just want to apologize for my boorish behavior.”

  “Boorish behavior? Is that what you call kidnapping at gun point?” I snapped.

  “I know. I was out of control. I let the story cloud my judgment. I’m sorry.”

  “All right, all right, you’ve apologized. Now what do you want?” I said, not worried about sounding polite.

  “Yes…well. Uhm—”

  “Spit it out.”

  “Right. It’s like this, KC. The paper has asked me to tell your story in a more sympathetic light. I’d like to do it with your permission, but they’re going to run the story, with or without you,” he said, speaking fast.

  “I already have the full details regarding your background and your foster parents. It’s a classic tragedy of the failure of our system to protect defenseless children from predators like the Pattersons.”

  “Look, Merkham—” I broke off, thinking quickly. I needed to head this off as quickly as possible. I didn’t want any more stories about me or Juniper Springs in the paper.

  “It’s Edwin, remember? I know you’d probably value your privacy more, but trust me, the paper is going to print this story. Look, this is harder over the phone. I need to head back north for a couple of days anyway. Are there any rooms available at the Honey House?”

  It hadn’t escaped my notice that it was time for the full moon again. Merkham had more than one reason he wanted to stay at the Honey House. I wanted to lie and tell him that there was no room at the inn. I wanted to suggest he’d be more comfortable at one of the chain hotels in Sedona. I wanted to tell him to fuck off and die.

  “Yes,” I answered on a resigned sigh. Shit.

  ****

  Joanne’s Book of Shadows was a hard cover journal, filled to overflowing with cramped handwritten notes. It was mostly organized as if it were a diary, with every entry in chronological order, starting shortly after she’d received the Honey House from Amelia. She’d recorded most of the spells in the back of the book, like a glossary. The content had been added from both the front and the back and eventually it had met in the middle. Notes spilled into the margins, until there was very little whitespace left. It might take me a lifetime to decipher all her notes.

  Even though I was certain I wasn’t a witch, it made sense to gather the information I was learning about spells and magick in one place so I’d taken Amelia’s advice to start my own Book of Shadows. Instead of using my laptop, I decided to follow the traditional method of handwriting my notes. The limits of a bound journal were obvious, so I used a three-ring binder, instead. I added tabs for organizing and extra paper, in case I could think of anything I wanted to write. At this point, the only content in my book was the lunar table. I would never again lose track of the full moon. Not when so much was at stake.

  I started thumbing through Joanne’s book, opening to random pages, reading whatever captured my attention. Which was everything. Medicinal plants and herbs. Rituals and holidays. Witch’s familiars. The difference between spells, wards, and intentions. There was so much to learn. And no shortcut to tell me what had been done to my apartment that was making me some kind of man magnet. I closed the book in frustration.

  ****

  “We need your help, KC. We’ve been skirting the edge of discovery all year. As Liulfr for the pack, I have made some decisions that will be tough on our members. You can help ease the transition.” Gabrielle was sitting next to him and holding his hand tightly.

  The conversation lasted exactly twenty seconds before I was completely lost. Thirty minutes ago Raymond had shown up looking for Gabrielle. After a brief, whispered conversation, they’d pulled me into the library for a “talk.”

  “Raymond, I don’t understand. Let’s assume I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about—wait! Are you telling me you’re a werewolf? And what’s the pack Liulfr?” I asked, carefully pronouncing the word Lee-ulfer, as Raymond had said it. Minus the throaty growl, of course.

  “I thought you knew I was a were. What did you think I was doing at the Ranch?” he asked.

  “Okay, yeah, I suppose in abstract I realized you must be a…a…” I trailed off.

  A snarl ripped through his chest, deep and menacing. It would have been terrifying without the grin splitting Raymond’s expressive face and the sparkle in his eyes.

  Who am I kidding? It was scary. My pulse raced as I tried to appear casual about the whole wolfy experience.

  “Knock it off, Raymond. You’re scaring her,” Gabrielle said with a smack to the back of her husband’s head.

  Raymond ducked and laughed. “The Liulfr is the pack’s shield, their leader or alpha, “ Raymond answered rather dismissively. “I can explain pack law later, but right now, we need your help.

  “Merkham called me a little while ago. He said that the newspaper has Jason’s article about the Ranch and is printing it this weekend. He offered to let me comment for the record, to give me the chance to tell my side of the story. Without saying it directly, he’d implied the story definitely is a reveal of the werewolves.

  “The pack needs you, KC,” Raymond said. “Juniper Springs has been a safe place for us. We only started the Ranch because we were tired of always running, always moving on to another town when rumors started to spread. Here in Juniper Springs, we’re just a different type of supernatural. There are so many other metaphysical happenings here that the wereanimals just blended right in with the others.”

  “Merkham is on his way here,” I said. “He’s going to be staying at the House.”

  “I know,” Raymond said.

  “She can’t turn him away, the House won’t like it,” Gabrielle reminded Raymond.

  “No, I know that. I just wondered if you would, you know, talk to him. Convince him not to report on this. At least not right now, give us some time.”

  “Raymond, if Merkham can prove werewolves exist, it will be the biggest news story ever! He isn’t going to give up on it just because I ask nicely. Someone already killed Jason for the same thing.

  “Tell me the truth. Did one of the werewolves kill Jason to keep the ranch a secret?” I asked.

  “I'd wondered the same thing,” Raymond said. “Believe me, I asked. Because I’d have dealt with it myself if one of my pack killed Jason. Don’t get me wrong, I’d have hated it if Jason exposed us. Hell, that’s what I’m trying to prevent now. No matter how big the stakes are, I wouldn’t tolerate a cold-blooded murder.”

  It seemed a strange way to phrase it, but I let him continue.

  “Jason came to see me the afternoon he returned,” Raymond said, speaking fast, his voice a whisper. “He had a picture of Stevie, my youngest werewolf, just after he transformed. Stevie has trouble controlling the shift sometimes. I had taken him out to hunt and feed a few days before the full moon so his hunger would be sated. It lessens the blood lust in a new were. Jason got a lucky photo.”

  Gabrielle squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to her. They stared at each other for a long moment and I could swear she shook her head slightly.

  I said nothing, just waited for their silent communication to finish. I would have had a very hard time believing this whole conversation if Quinn and Owen hadn’t confirmed that
the werewolves were real. Who am I kidding? I was still struggling in the belief department. Acceptance isn’t always the same as believing. I hadn’t seen as of yet…and you know what they say about seeing is believing.

  When Raymond turned back to face me, I said, “I still don’t understand what you want me to do.”

  Gabrielle answered this time, “Try to find out what Merkham knows and what he’s going to print. If he knows for sure about the werewolves, maybe you can give Raymond a head’s up, let us get a head start,” she said, squeezing Raymond’s hand.

  Raymond shook his head. “The world is getting much smaller these days. Merkham has pictures of us, Gabrielle. Now that he knows our identities, it would only be a matter of time before he tracked us down again.

  “We all knew this day would come, that someday we’d have to make a stand. I’ll notify—” he broke off abruptly. He cleared his throat, “I’ll notify those who need to know, the other packs. No one else needs to be exposed. Then we can wait to see how it goes.

  “We’re still hoping you can convince him otherwise, KC, but we don’t expect it. What we really need you to do is get him to delay his article for a week. That will give us enough time.”

  “There are other packs?” I asked, stuck on the first part of what he’d said.

  Raymond laughed. “I don’t know why it surprises me you ask, when we’ve always gone to such lengths to hide ourselves. Yes, there are at least two dozen packs across the US and hundreds more worldwide. This is not the first time weres have been threatened with exposure.

  “In ancient times, it was easier to keep the werewolves a secret. If someone found out, you could try to either turn him or her through a bite or outright kill the threat. The old alphas carefully monitored how much attention their pack was drawing to their territory, and moved on if too many rumors started circulating. It’s been our way for thousands of years, but we’ve all recognized that era is coming to an end. The Were Council—”

  He smiled and broke off at my look of astonishment. “Yes, there is a governing Council that tries to keep the peace between the packs and protect the secret of our existence. So, the Were Council put into place a contingency for the first true exposure of werewolves. It looks like my pack will be the one to test it.”

  “What plan? What does that mean?” I asked.

  “It would take about a month to get everyone out without it looking like a mass evacuation. Unfortunately, we don’t have a month, so many will leave in the morning, after the full moon tonight. I arranged for my wolves to go somewhere…safe. We’ll try to make the moves look as casual as possible, new jobs, elderly parents that need looking after, stories like that.

  “A few of us will be the sacrificial lambs. We’ll admit finally admit that werewolves do exist outside of horror movies. It will be our job to focus all the attention on our little pack and help give the impression that we are the last of the werewolves.

  “Stevie will stay, because he’s already been outed. And Gabrielle, of course.”

  “Wait! You’re a werewolf, too?” I asked, my gaze shifting to the woman I’d worked beside for weeks.

  Gabrielle laughed. “Of course I am! What did you expect? A monster?”

  I shook my head. Nothing in this world was as it seemed. “Okay, how many others are staying?”

  “For now, just the three of us, but I understand that a couple more werewolves want to join us. Some strong fighters who have their hungers well controlled. They should be here in a few days. We believe those of us who are outed will be in some danger from the constant attention we expect to encounter. We’ll keep the pack limited to minimize the threat people may feel from acknowledging werewolves really do exist.”

  “Okay, pardon my ignorance, but how dangerous are you? I don’t actually know what real werewolves do,” I said.

  “I do the beds and light cleaning, but prefer it when we bring in help for the windows,” Gabrielle quipped.

  “Smart ass,” I said and threw a pillow at her head. Her hand was faster than I could follow when she snagged it out of the air, and I gasped.

  “Seriously, KC, that’s what we do. Whatever any other person does most of the time. We work, we play, we have normal lives. On the full moon, we transform. It’s safer to stay away from normal humans when we’ve shifted, but mostly so we don’t accidentally spread lycanthropy to someone. Most werewolves don’t randomly eat people or attack without provocation.

  “Very new werewolves sometimes find it hard to control their wolf form, so the more experienced pack members gather them up and teach them how to survive. The rest of us have a howling good time once a month and then go back to our regular lives,” Gabrielle finished with a smile.

  “It’s not always so passive,” Raymond added, his face more serious than Gabrielle’s. “We can draw on our power and change whenever it’s needed. A threatened werewolf can be forced to change involuntarily. The more powerful werewolves can change at will, or even only partially change. It all depends on the circumstances.

  “Gabrielle and I have full control, as will any who join us later. Stevie is young, we’ll have to be careful he doesn’t feel too threatened in the crush of attention this admission draws to us. Once the initial excitement wears off, we’ll quietly send Stevie to another pack, and get him away from the spotlight.”

  I didn’t take time to think through my offer, I just knew it was the right thing, what the House wanted. “You need to move in here,” I said. “Today. Now.”

  Raymond was shaking his head before the offer was out of my mouth.

  “That won’t work KC. It’ll draw too much attention to you. Besides, we’re going to have to bring Stevie to our house, until the new additions arrive. I know this will sound strange, but werewolves like to cuddle together when we’re stressed, it gives us comfort. Having Stevie with us will make us all feel better.”

  “Raymond, you have to listen to me. Gabrielle, tell him. I know you can sense it, too,” I said. A wave of desperation rolled through me.

  Gabrielle looked at me, her dark eyes unreadable, face serious. Slowly, she turned to face her husband. “Raymond, what KC is trying to say is that it’s not just her. The House wants us here now, too.”

  Raymond looked away from us for a minute, and then answered without turning back. “I know that we’ve learned over time not to question the House, but this makes no sense to me,” Raymond said.

  “Look, let’s argue about it later. Merkham is on his way. Gabrielle, take suites one and two. The adjoining interior door will let you spread out, and should leave enough room for Stevie, too. Take suite three if you need it. That gives you the most privacy, since you’ll be on the opposite side of the House from me.

  “I’ll put Merkham upstairs. He’ll be gone in a day or two. Do whatever you want with the furniture, we have plenty of storage. Swap pieces, store stuff, whatever. We can worry about it later.

  “Please, Raymond,” I said, my voice near panic. “I can’t explain this feeling; I just know something bad will happen if you’re not here right now.”

  We all heard the car pull up in the drive. There were only a few seconds left before Merkham came inside for his room.

  Gabrielle grabbed Raymond’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “This is not the time or place to continue this discussion. Come, let me show you the rooms of which she speaks.”

  They were heading down the hall, away from the front door, when Merkham rushed in yelling, “Goddammit, KC! Why didn’t you tell me there’d been another murder?”

  A fist twisted around my heart. Someone else was dead. “Who?” I managed to croak out as I raced to the front counter.

  “That jewelry store owner. Susan somebody…and they arrested that queer for her murder.”

  Chapter Twenty

  I stood flatfooted, while Merkham rushed in the opposite direction, presumably toward his room, since I’d practically tossed a key in his direction. Pulling my cell phone from my pocket, I pushed the speed
dial, thinking while I waited for an answer. Susan dead? Gregory arrested? I felt helpless, frustrated, and out of my element. Why isn’t Owen answering his phone? I pushed the end button and blew out a breath.

  I tried to feel something other than relief at Susan’s death, but I just wasn’t that damn charitable. Not that I’d actually wanted to kill her myself, but I would have liked a chance to kick her ass. With a snort, I gave that idea up. Physically, Susan had been a candy ass and there was no satisfaction in that. Magickally, Susan had been something else entirely.

  From the moment we’d been introduced, Susan’s holier-than-thou attitude had set my teeth on edge. Her possessive attitude toward Quinn gave me just the tool I’d needed to extract my own petty revenge. I winced when I realized I’d thought of Quinn as a tool in our initial skirmish.

  It hadn’t been Quinn who had sabotaged my evening with Jason, but the jealous bitch herself. I hadn’t been a true threat at that point, so she’d just done a little interfering. I was sure she hadn’t killed Jason. His murder had to be related to the werewolves. But the dead coyote on my back patio the same day I’d found Jason? Yeah, she’d have done that, mistakenly believing it would drive me away from the Honey House and Juniper Springs.

  There was no way to anticipate that the discovery of the coyote would lead to a night of passion. Susan had been extremely pleased with herself when she’d seen me windblown and bedraggled on the back of the sheriff’s bike. In fact, she’d even sold me the rose quartz, which was used to promote emotional healing. She’d probably been feeling sorry for me. Until she’d realized Quinn and I had slept together. That was the trigger for the Dark Maker spell. She must have been an extremely powerful witch with a very skewed sense of right and wrong.

  I thought back to the first line of Joanne’s Book of Shadows: Harm no one. Susan had violated that most basic principle of witchcraft. Was her death an example of the Rule of Magickal return? Seemed like karma to me.

  I had a lot of questions and there was only one person who could give me the answers. With another deep sigh, I reluctantly pressed the speed dial for Quinn.