“And will she find out from you?”
Eldora’s dark gaze studied Paige’s, the mahogany in her eyes shining with bitter hope and trampled love. “No. Are we safe?”
Paige found herself itching to trust this woman. “I don’t control them. You’ll have to bargain your own treaty with the alpha.”
Eldora slid her gaze to Chuck, then back. “There is bad blood between us.”
“Then you’ll have to work harder to fix that.”
Eldora raised her chin. “Yes. I suppose we will.”
The Blackmans left soon after, leaving their wagons in front of the house.
“You’re going to have to find a way to be around witches without your pack not freaking out,” Paige said to Chuck, the regional high alpha. She set a stack of paper plates on the counter.
Chuck leaned against the back door, his arms crossed over his chest. “That’s easier for you to say than it is for me to do.”
“I don’t doubt it.” She turned to Faith, Chuck’s female pack alpha. Paige had discovered the power of the pack hierarchy in the past three months. For instance, there could be several alphas in one pack, but each of them ultimately looked to one for leadership. In the hierarchy, females had a higher place and were more numerous than male alphas.
It was nice not having to fight for her place for once. It wasn’t that she was just given a place. She still had to earn it. But she wasn’t immediately discounted as soon as she entered a room, either. And her ideas weren’t immediately rejected.
But the one downside to Paige being an alpha—though how that worked when she wasn’t a shifter, she didn’t know—was that whenever she was in the presence of another alpha like Faith, she grew irritated. Irrationally irritated.
Paige liked Faith. She was a good person and a good woman. But she wanted to snap Faith’s neck, too. Which made things awkward.
Faith glanced over at Paige. Her dark hair fell over the scar on her face that went from her eyebrow to the lower lobe of her ear. Her green eyes held a fire of anger. “They killed many of us. Tortured more. We will not forgive easily.”
“That’s great,” Paige said with a little ire of her own. “But you guys wanted us here to help you take back the region. That happens faster when you mend bridges.”
“The Blackmans are not people you can trust,” Chuck said. “This agreement you are entering into is dangerous.”
“Anything we do here is dangerous.”
Leah walked into the kitchen, Bobby in her arms.
He held her cheek in the palm of his hand and baby babbled at her.
She rolled her eyes at him and went to the fridge, muttering to him under her breath.
Paige wasn’t worried. For whatever reason, Leah had taken Bobby under her wings. She might act upset, but she was happiest when she was with her brother.
Brother. After three months, that part should have gotten easier to swallow. It hadn’t.
Bobby wasn’t Paige’s son. He was her best friend’s son, but after his mother had been murdered, leaving him orphaned, a rogue group of angels had decided that leaving him with the Whiskeys was a good idea.
She needed to focus. “The Blackmans are tired of being under the tyrannical rule of the Eastwoods.”
“They were complicit for over a hundred years.” Chuck handed a platter of freshly pressed hamburger patties to the kid who poked his head in the doorway.
“And now they’ve changed their minds.” Paige picked up the large bowl of potato salad Faith had just finished making and handed it to yet another kid. There were distinct benefits of living with the pack close. She’d thought living in the Whiskey household had been nice, with five adults raising the kids together. The pack was similar, but on a much larger scale.
“Just like that? Everything should be forgiven because now they want a way out?”
“I’m sure a lot more happened that made the decision for them.”
“Making them victims?” Faith demanded. “No. I will not accept that.”
Paige stepped to the left. A large shifter walked through the backdoor, glaring at her. Not everyone in the pack was receptive to the idea of the Whiskeys joining with them. “Merry murdered Eldora’s daughter.”
“They murdered many daughters.” Faith shoved a plate of corn on the cob into Paige’s hands. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to trust a witch—” She stopped herself, her lips clamped shut. “One of those witches any time soon.”
Paige gripped the plate, but didn’t move to take it from the shifter. “I understand that, but if you want to stay, you have to find a way to heal. I’m not going to destroy their entire family just so we can be here.”
“That’s what they would do. It’s what they’ve done.”
“Really?” Paige leaned in. “Because if we study the situation, it looks like you guys are up in numbers, not down. And the Blackmans? I’d been left to believe they’d been nearly destroyed, that Merry had killed them trying to get rid of the shifters. But there were an awful lot of them here. In my yard. So, for all that Merry is a cold-blooded killer, I still see no evidence telling me that Eldora Blackman’s entire family deserves to be murdered.”
Faith gnashed her teeth and looked away, her hands still on the plate.
“Until I see proof, I’m not likely to change my opinion. But even if that occurs? Death? That’s not the justice I’m going to seek.”
“What justice would you serve, then, witch?” Faith asked, her teeth bared.
“The kind of justice that comes with a jail cell.”
“And what kind of jail cell could house a witch?” Faith released her hold on the plate. “What wouldn’t she be able to break out of?”
Very good question. Paige took the plate outside and set it on a series of tables.
The ‘yard’ was more like a wide meadow surrounded on all sides by trees. Sunlight glinted off water not far in the distance between the tree limbs.
The grassy yard was filled with folding tables, lawn chairs, and people. Shifters, mostly.
Leslie talked with a group of women Paige didn’t know.
Tru stood over the grill with a group of three men.
Dexx pulled a beer out of a red cooler and handed it to a woman, his hands moving animatedly.
Surveying the yard, Chuck stopped next to Paige. “We have many things to discuss.”
“We probably should have discussed them before we got here.”
He gave her a look that said the blame was on her and her thick head. “I agree.”
Really? It was going to be like that? “You knew what we were walking into.” She still should have asked more questions.
He nodded, his expression grim.
Paige didn’t know what else to say. The initial idea to move to Portland had been hers. She’d wanted to take the fight to Merry. On her own terms.
What a dumb idea. “Where is Merry’s base of operations?”
The tension around his eyes eased a little, like a teacher relieved his student was finally asking the right questions. That kinda irritated her.
“On East Island.”
That didn’t tell her much. “How far away is that from here?”
“About forty minutes.”
At least they weren’t right down the street.
“They have land closer, a few miles away, but they haven’t been there for several years.”
How fortuitous. “What kind of dealings do you have with the Eastwoods, anyway?” Because, in reality, Paige hadn’t been the first one to break the treaty. Merry Eastwood had.
He tipped his head. “I own several businesses. A lot of realty.”
“Does she know she’s dealing with you? I mean, the great high alpha of the biggest damned pack of shapeshifters ever?”
He quirked his lips and raised his eyebrows, but nodded.
She did? Huh. “And she doesn’t mind that she’s broken the treaty?”
“As long as it’s her breaking it to her own end?”
He had a point. “Well, until I know more, until I have a better foothold here, we need to stay under the radar. So, when more witches show up, your people stay hidden.”
“That does not play well with our kind, as you well know.”
“I am aware.” In the past three months, she’d had to caution them to lay low more than once. “I don’t know if the Blackmans will rat us out to Merry. And when she finds out, you’ve all made me believe she’ll restart the war. Who else can we trust? Anyone? Everyone? No. Anyone who shows up on our doorstep could rat us out to Merry. Even your own pack.”
He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
She couldn’t tell if he really didn’t know or if he was just playing tough. “You’re not going to play dumb, are you?”
“I am not. What I meant to ask was, has anyone made you feel uncomfortable or unsafe? Has anyone made you feel they wanted to jeopardize the safety of your family?”
She sighed, watching Leah step outside with Bobby in her arms. “No. Not yet.” Yet, there was something she couldn’t put a name to. Maybe it was something she was reading on people’s faces and not quite registering. Maybe it was her imagination. She just didn’t know.
Leah walked up to Paige. “I’m hungry.”
Bobby was much heavier than he had been when he’d first been dumped into their lives. He ate well, that boy. Paige smiled into his chubby face, smooshing his nose to hers as she retrieved her son from her daughter.
He cooed at her, flailing his hands.
Tucking her son to her hip, Paige chucked her chin toward the tables. “Go eat, m’dear.”
Leah’s expression was tight. She didn’t make eye contact with her mother, was careful not to touch. But she headed toward the food table as Paige had directed.
“You have a long way to go with that one,” Chuck said as Leah walked away.
“That I do.” She’d hoped that here she’d have the time to work on her relationship with her daughter. They’d been estranged for five years and together again for only three months. During which time, Paige had been trying to head up a new unit in the Texas PD that investigated paranormal homicides. She’d worked with Tony, her vampiric partner in Denver, to turn over that unit into his care. All the while, packing up the house and getting used to a new baby and her daughter.
She hadn’t done a great job in bonding with Leah. She’d done a decent job in not killing her, though. That had to count for something. “What are you going to do about your pack?”
“You let me worry about them.”
“Until one of them acts rashly, goes against your will, and nearly gets us killed? You mean until then?”
Chuck raised his chin.
“The next time witches come to my doorstep—because there’s going to be a next time. You do realize this, right? Yes? I hope you do. When that happens, don’t stand on my doorstep like guard dogs. Don’t threaten them. Don’t piss on the corner.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, his lips set as if to say, “Where’s the gratitude?”
“We owe you a great deal.” Paige stepped to the side, calming herself. Her emotions were sporadic. She had too much on her plate and with all the transition and new things and everything happening at once—yeah. She was…emotional. She still had to keep herself in check because she couldn’t afford an emotional outburst. “I get that. But don’t start the war just yet.”
He remained still.
She walked away, joining her sister. Bobby tugged on her hair, putting a fistful of it in his slimy mouth. Yum. Baby drool. She smiled. Meh. It wasn’t so bad.
“Oh, hey, Pea. You remember Ruby, don’t you?”
The woman who’d been stabbed the day before Alma had. “Yeah.” Honestly, Paige didn’t remember meeting the woman, but she’d met so many people in the last few months. “I remember. How are you healing?”
Ruby shrugged, her wavy brown hair flying in a wild breeze, then settling around her shoulders. “All healed.”
“Are you finding your place here?”
“It’s a little different here, you know?” Ruby nodded with another shrug. “But I think I’m finally getting a hang of things.”
“That’s good.”
“There are so many different packs here, you know?”
Paige didn’t know the full extent, but she had a slight inkling. There was so much about Chuck she didn’t know yet, like just how big his pack of packs was and how powerful he was and just how good he was at manipulating people to do his bidding.
Leslie smiled, her eyebrows raised. “They’re looking for a healer.”
“Oh.” Paige had no idea what that meant or why Leslie was giving her that look. “Neat.” Witches didn’t heal. Well, not by magick. Herbs, maybe. But doctors did pretty much the same thing but with medical backgrounds.
“I was thinking of opening a shop.”
Paige had known Leslie had wanted to open a soap shop. She’d said as much before they left. “Oh. Awesome?” What she was really asking was how the two statements fit together.
Leslie’s grin widened. “They want an apoth—”
The ground rumbled at Paige’s feet.
Leslie glared at Paige.
No one else noticed, which meant it was the wards that Leslie and Paige had put up as a warning.
“Who is it this time?” Leslie demanded.
Who knew? Paige grabbed Chuck’s arm on her way to the house. “Keep everyone in the back yard and out of sight.”
He frowned at her in alarm. “What’s going on?”
“More visitors.” She thrust Bobby in his arms. If she was going to get into a witch fight, she didn’t want to do that with a baby in her arms.
“Who?” He took Bobby with well-practiced ease.
“Don’t know. You think you can keep everyone here?”
His dry look showed his appreciation for the insult.
Paige walked through the house, Leslie close on her heels. They stopped on the front porch.
A cavalcade pulled up to the front. Eight black SUV’s, shiny chrome and tinted windows.
Paige groaned. “This has to be the Eastwoods.”
“That’s my guess,” Leslie muttered. “Creepy. Seriously creepy.”
They parked between the PODS, the cars, and the wagons.
The front ‘drive’ was getting full.
Shit. She’d told the shifters to hide, and yet, there were dozens of cars in her driveway and front lawn.
Men stepped out of the SUVs wearing sunglasses and suits. Looked like a scene from Men in Black.
Leslie glanced at Paige, running her tongue over her front teeth.
After assessing that the area was clear—at least, that’s what Paige assumed—one of the men spoke to his wrist—very low key—and opened the passenger door of the second SUV.
A woman—medium height, dark hair, dark eyes, business skirt suit—stepped out of the vehicle. A single streak of grey showed in her hair.
“Wanna place bets on who that is?” Leslie muttered.
Paige didn’t. Power emanated off this woman. She resonated her two hundred years and all the magickal experience that came with living that long.
The woman didn’t look older than forty, though. There were bare traces of lines starting to show around her eyes, between her brows, and around the corners of her lips. She had excellent muscle tone, too, which made Paige envious. If she went to the gym more often, she could get that. Maybe she’d have to find a space for workout equipment in the house.
Focus!
Paige took in a deep breath to calm her nerves and walked down the steps. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. Her first meeting with Merry Eastwood. She’d figure out just how powerful the other woman was and just how much trouble they were in.
The woman stopped at the hood of the first SUV and flexed her well-manicured hands, a pleasant smile on her face. “You must be Paige and Leslie,” the woman said in a pleasant voice.
“And you must be Merry.”
Paige stopped. “Welcoming us to the neighborhood?”
“Quite the opposite, really.”
Wow. Blunt.
“I’m letting you know you have no place in this society.”
More car doors closed as more people stepped out of the vehicles.
One man stopped behind Merry, just off her right shoulder. Light brown hair, eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, tall, his slim physique hidden beneath his suit jacket. Paige couldn’t figure out why she even noticed him. A pull of attention in his direction, maybe? Was he asserting his will on her?
Merry smiled coldly. “You will find no work here.”
Paige frowned through a smile. “You can’t honestly believe you have that much pull. Do you?”
“You’ll see. No one will loan to you. You won’t be able to start a business here, a practice here. You won’t get a job on any police department.”
Little did she know that Paige already had that in the bag.
Merry glanced at one of the wagons. Her smile soured minutely before she tipped her head to the side. “Leave now. There is no room here for Whiskeys.”
“I think there’s plenty of room for us.”
“I think you’ll find there isn’t.” Merry stepped back toward the vehicles. “It’s not safe for the Whiskeys here.”
Paige’s hackles rose. She wasn’t going to get away with threatening Paige’s family. “Perhaps you’re not safe here.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“Funny,” Leslie said. “Sounded like you were just threatening us.”
Merry stepped into the car and smiled. “Oh, I was.”
Paige smiled sweetly back. “So were we.”
“Watch your back, Miss Whiskey.”
The man who had stepped up behind Merry met and held Paige’s gaze, his expression serious.
She couldn’t tell what he was trying to tell her.
He glanced behind him, then disappeared into a vehicle.
Eight SUV’s rolled out, kicking up a cloud of dust, leaving just as quickly as they appeared.
The rest of the evening passed without incident. The local witches left them alone. Someone installed the front door. They unloaded and set up the beds and cribs.
And everyone slept through the night, including Bobby.
Witches of the West - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) Page 2
