by Nova Nelson
Wait a second. Did Ezra and Ruby have a history? There was definitely more to the story, though I was fairly certain I didn’t want to hear it.
He slid out a tray with an assortment of crystals resting on velvet, sprigs of herbs sprinkled around the edges. “There are different families of crystals suited for different basic functions. Which type of elemental witch you are determines which family we start with. From everything I’ve seen with my own eyes and read about at length, Fifth Wind witches are best served by protective crystals. Here.” He held out a black, jagged stone. “Hold this in your hand. It’s black tourmaline. Pretty standard for protection against harmful energies.”
It was cool in my hand and heavier than it looked. I rolled it around a bit, unsure what I was looking for. “It’s nice,” I said, trying to be polite.
Ezra snatched it away. “Yeah, not quite the level of enthusiasm we’re looking for.”
“What level are you looking for?” I asked. “I’m not super into rocks, so I don’t know if—”
“You’ll know,” he said simply. “Here, try this one. Jet. It’s useful for clearing energy, especially if you’re an empath.”
I’d hardly felt the weight of it in my hand before Ruby said, “Don’t think that’s a problem for this one. Feelings aren’t really her strong suit.”
I shot her a dirty look.
But also, she had a point, and the jet didn’t feel like anything special to me.
We went through a few more crystals whose names I couldn’t remember, none of them striking me as anything other than a rock. Granted, some were pretty rocks. The fluorite and blue kyanite, especially.
Before long, though, I’d held each of the crystals on the velvet tray and none had been right. Ezra appeared perplexed, and he tapped on his lips with his index finger as his eyes searched vaguely around the store. “Huh. Let’s give this a shot,” he said, leading us over to the other side of the store. “I’ve never used this for a wand, but I’m always up for a challenge.” He opened a glass case with heavy amulets and pulled one out by its chain. “Try this.”
When the rough stone hit my palm—maybe even before that—I felt it immediately. It was like I’d had vertigo since arriving in Eastwind four and a half months before but had grown used to the sensation, and now, finally, the world stopped spinning. My feet were planted firmly under me. I felt present. I was on solid ground.
“Yeah,” he said, grinning shamelessly. “I had a feeling.” He wagged a finger at me. “I thought I sensed an open door on you.”
“What’s he talking about?” Tanner asked me.
“Not entirely sure.”
He turned to Ezra. “What’re you talking about?”
Ezra’s reply wasn’t addressed to me or Tanner. Instead, he looked past us to Ruby. “Does she know?”
“Oh, yes,” Ruby said, holding up a pink crystal to the light to inspect it. “I’ve already scolded her about it. Never fear.”
“That’s staurolite,” Ezra explained. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’ve channeled a spirit already.”
Whoops.
I looked at Tanner, who hadn’t learned that detail about me yet. It didn’t seem relevant, honestly. I’d only done it once so that a ghost could say her last goodbye to her husband without me being privy to the marital dirty-talk between them. I’d allowed the spirit of Heather Lovelace to channel through me and use my hand to write her X-rated wifely thoughts to her husband.
Listen, it’d seemed like the thing to do at the time.
It wasn’t until later that I realized what I’d actually done, and Ruby had been kind enough to lecture me incessantly about the dangers of channeling before I was trained for it. Had I known the risks, specifically that Heather could have taken possession of my body and made me act out all her weird werewolf fantasies with her husband, duh, I wouldn’t have done it. We all make mistakes, right?
Tanner’s openmouthed expression was one of awe, fear, concern … and maybe desire. Or I was just projecting that last one. Who’s to say?
“Yes. I channeled. Just once, though. And I didn’t really know what I was doing.” This was stupid. I shouldn’t have to defend myself to Ezra and Tanner. They weren’t with me at the Lovelace home when I had to tell a husband that his wife wasn’t at peace, but rather, in the room with us, the same wife everyone had told him offed herself rather than the truth: that she was murdered by her psychopathic nix sister-in-law for inheritance money.
“Staurolite is a grounding crystal,” Ezra said. “It helps keep you planted in space and time. Sometimes those who can transcend into the spirit realm have a hard time keeping both feet among the living. Can’t have you living your life with one foot in the grave.” He winked again, and I found it much less charming this time.
I stared at the rock in my hand. It looked more like two rusty nails in an X, stuck in a clunk of cement. This store was chock full of beautiful stones, yet this was the one that struck a chord with my vibration or whatever? It could have just as easily been a chip off some ancient gravestone.
So, in a way, I supposed it made sense. But it still sucked that I didn’t get one of the pretty ones.
“Like I said, I’ve never put it in a wand—the distinctive cross shape of it makes it difficult to fit without compromising the structural integrity. But I always love trying new things.”
Ruby pushed between Tanner and me to get a closer look at the stone. “While remembering the appeal of the older things, too, I assume,” she added offhandedly.
Ezra laughed. “You know it, Ruby.”
“Question,” Grim said, padding up with Monster asleep between his shoulder blades. “Why does it smell overwhelmingly like pheromones over here?”
“Wasn’t me,” I said, glancing from Ezra to Ruby, trying to interpret the strange look passing between them.
“Unfortunately,” Ezra said, “I’m running at a bit of a delay, so you can expect a three-week wait on any custom-made wands.”
“Bummer.” I extended the staurolite amulet toward him, but he pushed my hand away gently. “I suggest you hold onto that in the meantime, wear it around, see how it feels. It’s not terribly expensive, and if you decide you don’t want to keep it once your wand is ready, I’ll just apply it as credit toward the purchase.”
“Deal.”
“Follow me and we can pick out your wand’s wood next.”
Tanner grabbed my arm gently, getting my attention as we followed Ezra. “You didn’t tell me you channeled someone.”
“I forgot about it, sorry.”
He shook his head, obviously not buying that, but he didn’t dispute it verbally. “Who was it?”
“Heather,” I said.
“Heather Lovelace?” His eyes went wide and his voice rose, making Ruby glance back at us with an arched eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Are you okay?”
I stopped walking and turned to face him, staring into his eyes. I wanted to kiss him—that tended to be my impulse whenever I so much as glimpsed his gorgeous jaw, sculpted Greek nose, and cupid’s bow—but opted instead to place a hand on the side of his face and just think about kissing him.
It was far less satisfying.
“I’m fine, Tanner. Seriously.”
“You tend to jump into things before you know anything about them, though,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, your fearlessness is”—he leaned forward—“super sexy. But it’s not a smart way to live around here.”
“I hear you. And I’m working on the channeling thing with Ruby. Don’t worry.”
Tanner had made it clear on more than one occasion that he felt responsible for my survival, not just because we were dating, or whatever was actually going on, but because, and this was one of the most adorable things in the world, he had been my first point of contact after I’d wrecked my car in Texas, died, and woke up to find myself in the middle of the Deadwoods in Eastwind. He took that responsibility seriously, and every time I did some
thing dangerous, he felt like he’d failed in his role.
He never said all these things, of course, but men aren’t that hard to read, especially when they haven’t intentionally spent decades practicing the art of hiding all emotion. Tanner tended to let it all hang out.
Or maybe I was slightly empathetic.
Nah. I had intuition, or Insight, as it was called, but Ruby was right. Emotions weren’t really my thing. That’s why it’d felt so strange when, after channeling Heather, I could still feel some of her residual emotion lingering inside me, even after she’d left this realm and traveled beyond the veil for good. It was like a hangover that took me a full week to shake.
I admit that it’s not ideal for emotions to feel like a hangover. But we all have our shortcomings.
Once I’d settled on ivy wood for my wand, Ezra scribbled down the specifications in a book, and I paid him for the amulet. It wasn’t cheap, but it was actually a relief to unburden myself of some of the wages I didn’t know how to spend. In Eastwind, the bare necessities came cheap, and because I didn’t have time to drink, had no desire for a shopping spree, and ate most of my meals for free during my shifts at Medium Rare, I didn’t know what to do with the piles of coins amassing in the room I rented from Ruby. I hadn’t yet struck up the nerve to visit the bank and open an account, not since I heard that the place was run by dragon-shifters. While I was getting used to facing dangerous beasts on a daily basis, dragon-shifters struck me as expert-level stuff. I wasn’t ready for it. Maybe once I had my wand handy and felt a little more confident with some defensive spells I could handle it, but not before.
By the time we finished up at Ezra’s Magical Outfitters, Grim was already on a tear. “My stomach is eating itself. I don’t think I’m going to make it to Ruby’s. Just leave me here to die. Or just bring me some Franco’s meatballs. Either way. Your choice. No pressure.”
I wanted to tell Grim to reel it in, but then my stomach growled, and I saw his ears perk up at the sound, so I had no ground to stand on.
“Dinner?” I said as our group stood in the late-June dusk outside on the cobblestone streets.
“Sheehan’s Pub isn’t far off,” Tanner said. “I’ve been meaning to take you there forever.”
My heart plummeted into my empty stomach. Sheehan’s Pub.
I’d fetishized this place over the past months. I’d walked by it but had never gone in, and my best guess was that it was just a dumpy, dark pub with greasy fried food that lacked proper seasoning, and all the career drunks Eastwind had to offer.
But in my mind, it was a sort of finish line for Tanner and me. And a starting line.
“Yeah, let’s do it,” I said like everything was normal and my blood sugar wasn’t bottoming out as a result of hunger and adrenaline.
“You two have fun,” Ruby said. “Not really my style. I think I’ll just stop by the butcher’s on the way back and stick with beef stew tonight. You two lovebirds have fun, though.”
“Lovebirds?” I said. “We’re not—”
“Lock the door when you get back,” she said, cutting me off before heading the opposite way from Sheehan’s, toward home. Clifford trotted behind her.
“It’s a tough call,” Grim said. “On the one hand, I could come watch you two put your hands all over each other, which would likely result in my vomiting pure stomach acid at this point, or I could go with Ruby, sit by the fire, eat beef stew scraps, and not have your pheromones invading my sinuses. Hm. Whatever will I choose?”
“I thought you were too famished to walk,” I replied.
“Helena the Mighty thought she was too injured to keep fighting the onslaught of the witches at the Battle of Obsidian Summit, but she managed to pull through, given the right incentive.”
“Was that incentive beef stew?”
“No. It was the head of Miss Mary on a spike.”
“And did she get it?”
“Uh, no. Helena was mowed down almost immediately. She and the rest of the werewolves were slaughtered in droves in that battle.”
“Um.”
“Okay, so it wasn’t the best example. Blame it on my fatigue.”
“Monster says she doesn’t want to come,” Tanner said, interrupting my not-so-enlightening conversation.
“Yeah, Grim is saying the same … in so many words.”
Tanner looked confused. “He’s worried about getting eaten by a werebear?”
“Oh. No. He thinks he’s going to starve to death.”
“They have food there.”
“I know.” I turned to Grim. “Yeah, get out of here. Go beg from Ruby for all I care.”
As Monster rode Grim into the sunset, Tanner and I started toward Sheehan’s Pub.
Finally, it was about to happen.
Although I wasn’t sure what “it” was.
Chapter Two
“No way!” came a shout from inside Sheehan’s as my eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lighting.
Then I spotted Jane heading toward us.
“I can’t believe it,” she said, shoving Tanner out of the way to get a clear shot at hugging me. “You’re actually doing something outside of work.” Then she added, “Oh, hi, Tanner.”
“He’s the one responsible for bringing me,” I said, trying to give him some credit.
Jane leaned back slightly, her eyes wide. “Uh-huh. You two came together, then?”
Tanner nodded, but I added, “I mean, we’re here at the same time. So, yeah, I guess you could say that.”
Pressing her lips together and squinting at me, her voice sounded tight when she said, “Okay then.” Then she shot me a we’ll-talk-about-this-later look and headed over to a large corner booth where Ansel, Donovan, and a younger blond man I hadn’t met before sat, each sipping from large tankards.
Ansel was the warmest toward me as we approached, which wasn’t saying much. I didn’t suspect that Jane’s fiancé disliked me, but it did seem like every time I spoke with him, it was in the context of solving a murder, and while he wasn’t always a suspect, it didn’t make for the most personal of interactions. Or maybe it made for too personal of interactions.
The young blond man stared at me with wide eyes, like maybe I was a threat, while Donovan …
Well, Donovan offered me the same disdainful look as usual through his piercing blue eyes. It might make me sound shallow to admit it, but having someone as painfully hot as Donovan, with his dark hair, high cheekbones and pouty pink lips, act like he was passing a cactus-shaped kidney stone every time he laid eyes on me didn’t feel spectacular.
But then his gaze landed on Tanner, his best friend, and his expression changed completely. His eyes softened around the edges, and those sculpted lips parted to reveal pearly white teeth as he grinned. “Tanner! Can’t think of the last time I saw you around here.”
I decided to try an experiment. I stopped my progress and let Tanner go ahead of me. My hypothesis proved correct. As soon as I was obscured from the view of the booth’s inhabitants and Tanner was fully visible, the mood shifted dramatically, and everyone was grinning and joking around in a heartbeat, giving Tanner grief for his long work hours while clearly glad to have him back.
Huh.
This was something to consider. Specifically, that Tanner was easily the town’s most beloved witch, while I’d done an efficient job of making everyone in town associate me with death, murder, and suspicion in just a matter of months. And yet, I was the reluctant one to openly admit Tanner and I were together.
It didn’t make a whole lot of sense initially, and I decided I would think about it later.
Because for now, I was at a pub, I was starving, and I wanted whatever cool beverage was causing sweat to drip down the sides of the metal tankard Donovan clutched in his hand.
I watched him shut his eyes as he leaned his head back, watched his Adam’s apple bob as the cold drink rushed down his throat.
Why couldn’t this jerk just like me?
I turned around before I
ever made it to the booth and headed straight to the bar.
An auburn-haired dwarf nodded a curt hello as I squeezed next to his barstool.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hello.”
“I’m Nora.”
He nodded, his eyes roaming quickly up and down the top half of me. “That’s good to know.” He turned his attention toward something behind the bar as I stared at him, unsure what to say to that.
“Nora!” said a sweet sing-song voice.
I followed the dwarf’s eyeline and had to stand on my tiptoes before I spotted a head of orange-red hair on the opposite side of the bar. “Oh! Hey, Fiona!”
Fiona Sheehan, a leprechaun who I’d only spoken to once, (and not under the best of circumstances, considering her boyfriend, Bruce Saxon, had just been murdered by his other girlfriend, who Fiona didn’t know was still in the picture), beamed at me. I wracked my brain for what exactly I’d said in our sole conversation that would make her like me rather than associated me with death, mourning, etc.
Oh, right. I’d lied to her.
I’d told her that Bruce had talked all about her in his brief existence between the planes. The truth, though, was that he’d only mentioned her by mistake. She was his secret girlfriend, and if he hadn’t slipped and called his murderess by Fiona’s name, I never would have known about her at all.
I didn’t realize she worked at Sheehan’s Irish Pub, but, um, duh. Her family must own it. It had probably been passed down through generations of Sheehans.
Fiona stood on the other side of the bar and grinned at me with her big, round, childlike eyes. It wasn’t hard to see why Bruce Saxon might be a little reckless if it meant dating her. She was gorgeous and had a sweetness to her that seemed, honestly, out of place in such a dank establishment.
“I haven’t seen you in here before. Is this your first visit?”
“Yeah,” I said, “I’m a little embarrassed to admit that it is.”
Her giggle reminded me of a piccolo. “Word around town is that you’re a busy woman. Working long hours at Medium Rare and solving the murders Deputy Manchester can’t handle.” Her smiled faded slightly at the mention of murders. “What can I get you? Drinks and food on me tonight.”
