Witches of the West - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel)

by S. M. Blooding

  “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

  “I could be a private investigator like Dexx.”

  “Right. You. A PI. Do you really think you’d be okay with investigating and not closing cases?”

  It wasn’t the best fit ever, but it might be the solution she was looking for. Though, how would she get regular paychecks? “I don’t know.”

  “Yes. You do. Accept Chuck’s offer.”

  “And the treaty?” Which was completely moot. The only thing left was to let Merry know that. How did Paige want to do that? When? Where?

  “Merry’s going to find out we’re in league with the shifters eventually, anyway. It would be better if they fully backed us before that happens. Don’t you think?”

  She did. Kind of.

  A group of buildings appeared through a break in the trees. They pulled up and parked in front of the largest one and gawked out the window.

  A group of kids stood around in a circle in the middle of a corral, practicing their shift.

  Another group of kids worked by the tree line, weaving the branches and vines together to create a screen. Magickally. Dryads? Had to be. Right?

  A kid to the left of the big house turned into a ball of fire. The other kids with him didn’t seem concerned. They waved the smoke out of their faces, but waited. He extinguished himself, looked down at his singed clothing, then grinned.

  “Whoa, Pea.” Leslie gripped the wheel. “It’s like Hogwarts or the X-Men.”

  This…could be amazing. “Why wasn’t there a school like this when we were kids?”

  “Because we went to school with mundanes, Pea. Can you see the benefits now?” Leslie got out of the car. She waited for Tyler and Mandy to get out before retrieving Kamden.

  Leah climbed over her brother’s car seat and glared at Paige. “I hate you.”

  “Great.” Paige had no idea when or if Leah would ever love her. She didn’t know how to make that happen, didn’t know how to foster it.

  She had to admit it: she was a crappy mother.

  Faith exited the main building and smiled at them.

  Removing Bobby from the car seat, Paige tucked him onto her hip. She wasn’t carrying that damned car seat a second longer than she had to. That damned thing was heavy and awkward.

  “It’s good to see you.” Faith opened her arms.

  Paige gnashed her teeth, irritation flaring.

  Faith’s eyes snapped, as if her own animal spirit called to her, but she kept her expression pleasant. “Let me show you around.”

  Tyler bounced on his toes.

  Mandy kept close to Leah.

  Leah glared at everything.

  “Here,” Faith said as she led them toward the group of kids with the boy who’d just been on fire, “we teach more than just academics. We teach our children how to master their talents and how to function in the real world.”

  Leslie spun in a slow circle, her eyes wide. “That sounds amazing.”

  “It is.” Faith’s smile softened with pride. “Our instructors are people who’ve experienced what they are going through. Their first shifts. Tapping into the power of their elements.”

  Paige frowned. “I don’t see any adults.”

  “That doesn’t mean we’re not around.”

  “How would you instruct our children?” Leslie asked. “Do you have many witches?”

  “No.” Faith clasped her hands behind her back. “You would be invited to hold classes occasionally.”

  Leslie narrowed her eyes, the corners of her lips drawn down, and nodded. She looked grumpy, but that was actually her excited thinking face.

  “Also, Alma is your crone. She would be an excellent instructor of not only your children, but some of ours as well.”

  “You’d have to ask her,” Paige said.

  “I intend to.”

  “Good.” Because Paige didn’t have any say over what her grandmother did in her free time. Even if it meant killing herself with a garden.

  “We have a siren in the area, actually.” Faith smiled at Tyler. “She’ll be joining us in a few days and is rather eager to show you how to master your voice.”

  “A siren?” Paige asked. Weren’t they the ones who sang songs and drew sailors to their death or something? Was that a great idea?

  “I already know how to use it.” Tyler said, ignoring Paige’s question. “But thank you.”

  Faith tipped her head at him. “Would you say that a shifter knows everything about shifting just because they did it once?”

  “I’ve done it multiple times. Used my voice, I mean.”

  Faith gave Leslie a wide-eyed look of shared pain. “I’m sure she could teach you something.”

  “She’s a siren, Ty,” Leslie said. “Like…a siren? Real life?”

  “Eh.” He shrugged. “It’s just a voice.”

  Faith rounded her lips and then smiled. “Can you calm a rioting crowd with a song?”

  Tyler raised his eyebrows. “Um.”

  “Can you force someone to go against their will with your words?”

  Paige raised her head. Could a bard really do that?

  Tyler shook his head, his face scrunched up, and lifted one shoulder. “Uh, no.”

  “You can break glass.” Faith flattened her lips in a sympathetic smile.

  Oh. That woman played hard.

  “That’s pretty handy,” Tyler said defensively.

  “You are much more than a destroyer of glass, young Whiskey.”

  Tyler’s expression opened in hesitant interest. “When will she be here?”

  “In a couple of days, like I said. Mandy, this will be the group you will spend most of your time with.”

  Tyler’s shoulders sagged and he sighed heavily.

  Paige wanted to chuckle. She did. Poor boy wanted a better gift.

  Mandy clasped Leah’s hand. “I’m sticking close to her.”

  “Of course, but there were will be classes and practice time spent with these pupils, and Leah will gain no added value with this group.”

  Mandy sighed. “I don’t care.”

  The boy who’d been on fire turned to them and grinned. “Toby. Phoenix. Mandy?”

  She stepped forward. “A real phoenix?”

  He nodded. “Are you a real Firestarter?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Cool.”

  “Whatever.” But her expression showed a hint of excitement.

  Faith met Paige’s gaze, then Leslie’s. “School starts at six.”

  “Six?” Mandy turned on Faith, incredulity splashed across her face. “That’s cruel.”

  “And it ends at six.”

  “Twelve hours?”

  Tyler grinned, looking around.

  Faith met Paige’s gaze. “And the alpha would like to work with you.”

  Huh? “Why?”

  “Your spirit animal.”

  Paige looked around the school. Out of the way of the Eastwoods. Protected by a pack of adults. Couldn’t really get much better than that.

  And Chuck would be helping her with Cawli. She was worried about that.

  Maybe she needed to stop fighting it and just relent. Because this? This was too good to say no to. She nodded. “What do we need to sign?”

  The school operated year round and worked during the holidays. They had a whole pack of adults, a whole tribe of paranormals, and now, a whole family of witches to share watch over the kids. The flipside to all that was that the Whiskeys would have to take their turn watching the kids.

  Yeah. Okay. Paige could probably figure out how to work that in. After all, it wasn’t just her and Leslie. The adults could be Alma, Dexx, Tru.

  It was also a daycare for the smaller children. Same terms. Same rules.

  “But we need to know their gifts.” Faith folded her hands and leaned on her desk, the light from the storm giving the classroom a feel of cheerful gloom.

  Leslie smiled down at Kamden who slept in her arms. “He’s a telepath.”
>
  “That is good to know. We have someone who can help him.”

  Leslie frowned. “He’s a baby.”

  “Whose gift has already hatched,” Paige reminded her sister. “Mandy’s and Tyler’s didn’t come until later. Leah’s just now getting hers. Teaching him how to handle his abilities now is probably a great idea.”

  “Mmm.” Leslie plastered on an “I’ll try to be okay with this” smile and nodded. “Sounds great.”

  “I understand he’s your baby, but we have a lot of babies with early development gifts.” Faith gestured with her hands, palms up. “He’s in good hands. And Bobby?”

  Paige was a little worried. At the Whiskey house, the angel wards were up and in place. Well, rudimentary ones. She needed to strengthen them. She should probably ask Roxxie, the angel who’d sworn to help them protect him, to come over and help with that. She didn’t always show herself, but she said she was always around.

  They had a special blanket that was infused with angel warding for when they went to the store and stuff, which was what they were using now.

  But here? He’d be unprotected.

  Unless she was honest about it. Which was probably the best course of action.

  “He’s a prophet.”

  Faith went still.

  Paige gave her time to digest it.

  “As in a prophet of the Lord?”

  “Sure. I don’t know exactly how it all works, but I can tell you he supposedly can see the future of the world. And demons and angels are after him.”

  “For?”

  “The demons, to keep him.” Or, at least, that was their best guess. “The angels, to kill him.” Again, best guess.

  Faith’s gaze rested on Bobby.

  Paige had laid him down on his blanket on the floor. He lay there, flailing his arms, a drooly smile on his face. “He hasn’t been sleeping well lately and when he senses danger, he glows. I’ve physically searched the immediate area. I’ve scried the area. Nothing.”

  “Scried?”

  “I can call up a globe and see the area around me and any magickal creatures. I’m also seeing paranormals now. So…”

  “Interesting.”

  That was one word for it. Another was convenient. It had saved her bacon more than once.

  “We haven’t fought angels or demons.” Faith resituated in her chair. “So, are there weaknesses? Things we should be on the lookout for?”

  “Weakness? No. Not really. If you ever come across one, don’t piss it off. Things to look out for? I’ll set up some protections around the school. There are wards built into his blanket, so until we can set up the wards here, you should keep the blanket on or near him.”

  “How far away?”

  “He should be touching it.” Paige brushed her hair behind her ear. This was a really big leap of trust. No going back now. “As a matter of fact, I could call Roxxie right now. See if she’d be willing to help.”

  “Who?”

  A chill swept through Paige. Not fear. More like an Arctic breeze.

  “Someone call for me?” a perky female voice asked from behind Paige.

  Paige twisted around in her chair. She’d met a few angels since her gifts had been reawakened, but Roxxie was the only one who didn’t suck. Well, Becky, the social worker in disguise who had brought Bobby to her in the first place, wasn’t too bad, either. But long before that, Roxxie had shown up in Louisiana and had ‘helped’ Paige with her Hell door. She’d intended well, so Paige wasn’t going to hold anything against her. “Tell me you haven’t been lurking.”

  “Lurking?” Roxxie was a petite woman, lithe, tanned with bright pink hair. She looked a little like a punk rocker, but minus any piercings or tattoos. “Tell me you didn’t ask me to help look out for the little fella. Tell me you didn’t expect me to be hiding out, keeping a watch out, helping with the wards.”

  Yeah, okay, okay, okay. “About those—”

  “Already done, dude.” Roxxie beamed a smile and curtsied, her hands folded in front of her.

  Paige hung her head. “Dudes are men.”

  “I’m not calling you a dudette. That’s a stupid word.”

  “Fine.” Paige released a breath. “Faith, this is Roxxie. She’s an angel and has agreed to help keep Bobby safe. Roxxie, this is Faith, al—”

  “Oh, I know.” Roxxie stepped forward, extending her hand. “I’m a huge fan of your work. You have no idea how excited I am to meet you.” Roxxie’s voice rose to a fan-girl pitch.

  Faith took the angel’s hand with an expression of borderline fear and shock. “My work?”

  “Your sculptures? Oh my God. So cute.”

  Faith smiled, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment.

  “Also, the way you keep everyone in line?” Roxxie crouched, clawing her hands with excitement. “The way you inspire all those kids? You’re a rockstar, man!”

  “She’s a woman.” Paige raised her hands, her neck extended.

  “Dude.” Roxxie slapped her palms against her black leather pants, and they instantly changed to neon blue. “You don’t think I know that? She’s the most bitchin’ woman I know and I got to meet her. Shook her hand and everything.”

  Paige widened her eyes at Faith. “She’s a great angel. We…like her.”

  A frown furrowed Faith’s brow and her mouth hung open slightly. She nodded.

  “So,” Paige said to Roxxie. “Wards are up?”

  Roxxie saluted. “Up and ready, sir!”

  “No flares?”

  “Not even a whistle.” Roxxie slouched with a soft smile. “Angel radio is quiet.”

  “What about Rachel?” Leslie asked.

  Roxxie’s personality subdued to the point her hair dimmed, as did her pants. “She’s here. Don’t know how she found out. Could have been anything, but she’s in Portland. Not Troutdale. Not yet anyway. But she’s in the area.”

  “Shit.” Paige glanced at Faith. “Rachel is our mother, but she’s not welcome.”

  Faith nodded, her eyes fierce, her lips set and flat. “She won’t get onto our lands.”

  Paige tempered the wave of relief Faith’s words invoked. “She’s an angel whisperer.”

  “And your angel has put up angel wards.”

  “For everyone,” Roxxie held up a finger, “except me. Literally.”

  “Okay.”

  Paige puffed out her cheeks and blew out a breath. “Okay. Is there anything else you need from us?” It felt…really weird just dropping off her kids with other people and…leaving.

  “Blood.” Faith’s expression held no mirth.

  Paige’s heart hammered. Had she just been duped? “Uh. What?”

  A smile lit up Faith’s face. “I’m just kidding. No. Get out.” She stood. “Your children are now under our protection. We have your angel to assist us.”

  Paige rose to her feet, not quite as comfortable with this situation as she should be.

  “Get out.”

  Paige realized Faith was just being the alpha mother wolf. And that was comforting. And painful. At the same time.

  “Okay.” Leslie stood, swinging her purse onto her shoulder. “We have things to do. People to meet.”

  Faith walked around the desk and extended her arms to take Kamden. “We will take excellent care of your children. We will treat them as if they are our own.”

  “Thank you,” Leslie said with fervor.

  Paige glanced at Bobby, then out the window. “Leah’s gift? Do you have an idea for that?”

  “You.”

  “I’ve tried, but I—her gift is a little different from mine and I’m not helping.”

  Faith raked her teeth along her bottom lip. “Then, in that case, I leave that to you to find a solution to.”

  Sounded fair. Unfortunate, but fair. Leslie’s children were the product of a mundane and a Whiskey. As far as Paige could tell, Whiskey magick was more elemental anyway. But Paige was half Blackman—death magick—and Leah was half Eastwood—blood magick. So, how would
any group of paranormals know how to help with that?

  Faith clamped her lips shut and raised her eyebrows as if she’d been following that train of thought through Paige’s facial expressions.

  “Okay.” Paige wasn’t sure what she was going to do to find teachers, but it was fair. Maybe she could talk to Jack. He was a reaper. Maybe he could help a teenaged necromancer. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “Okay. Have a great day.”

  Paige followed Leslie who was already out the door and sliding into the car. “Feel a little free much?”

  Leslie slumped forward, a crazed grin on her lips. “You have no idea.”

  Paige didn’t. Guilt washed through her. “We just dumped our kids on these people.”

  “These people who we know and we’ve vetted over three months of interrogating them and eating dinner with them. I think they’ve earned the right to be tortured by our kids. Don’t you?”

  Tortured?

  “I’m a mom, sweetie,” Leslie put the car in drive and headed out. “I’m way past the, ‘my kids are the greatest thing since wine,’ thing you’re currently in. Don’t get me wrong. I understand why, but you seriously gotta get over it.”

  Oh, if only it was that easy. “Where are we going?”

  “Don’t know, really. Chuck told us to meet him…” She rummaged in her purse for her phone and handed it to Paige. “…here.”

  “For what?”

  “To show me my new store, probably. I’m thinking.”

  Really? “That was fast.”

  Leslie shrugged, giving her sister a get-over-yourself look. “Chuck had a plan in place.”

  He really had. So, was this generosity on his part, or was he really trying to manipulate the situation?

  Or was he just a really organized, successful businessman who knew how to plan and who needed the Whiskeys in Troutdale?

  Was she being a jerk?

  Hell no. She wasn’t. She’d been played by just about everyone on the field. Demons—plural. Angels—again, plural. Her mother. Her grandmother—though, she’d at least apologized. Merry freaking Eastwood.

  She really didn’t want to be played by shifters, too. So, she was being cautious. First time for everything. Right?

  But it would figure that she’d throw caution on the one situation she shouldn’t.

  Blessed Mother, she was so stupid.