“Oh, yes. Yes. I do.” He turned and walked off. “Coffee?”
“I’m sure you saw the shop when you drove in.”
He smiled at her over his shoulder. “Just testing you.”
“You’re high maintenance, Barn.”
He laughed and raised his fist in victory as he disappeared out the door.
“Barn?” Quinn asked, a dark brow raised.
“Coroner.” Paige headed back to the board. “Worked with him in Denver. He helped with more than a few of our cases.”
“He’s human,” Tarik said.
“Yup. And I’m already dealing with that and the Sisterhood. That’s why he’s here.”
Tarik raised his chin, the corners of his lips raised as if she’d just exceeded his minimum expectations.
Why did it feel like she should have earned a prize?
Paige crossed her arms as she studied the board. “He started putting the pieces together himself and was about to send his findings up the chain of human command, not knowing what a shit-storm that would bring. So, I brought him in on everything. He’s…slowly learning. He knows more about shifters than anything else. That’s what we had in Denver.”
“Hmm.” Tarik frowned, but turned back to the board.
“Rainbow, your other case.”
“Right.” Rainbow pointed to a group of pictures. “These were all killed by the same person. These,” she said, pointing to another group, “were killed by people who were related to each other. Closely. Like mother and daughter, maybe?”
“Can you tell,” with however she death omened, “if the murderer is male or female?”
Rainbow shook her head.
“I can.” Quinn tipped her head to the side. “But I would need the corpse.”
“And these disappeared as well?” Merry’s victims made sense if they got old. She was draining blood to gain youth. But the rest of the Eastwoods? What were they doing to make their victims appear old? The files hadn’t noted any of them staying absurdly young. They all aged well, but they still all aged.
The ground shook.
A bell-like ping radiated through the bullpen.
Witches.
Paige reached for her power source on her way out.
“What’s going on?” Rainbow asked, scrambling to follow.
“Witches.”
“Oh, shit.” Dexx raised his voice. “You guys. Stay back with me. You don’t get involved.”
“I can use a gun,” Rainbow said excitedly.
“No.” Dexx’s tone was firm.
“Tarik,” Paige said. “You any good in a witch fight?”
“I’m a djinni, m’dear,” he said smoothly.
“That’s Captain to you.”
“Of course.”
“So, yes?”
Civilians. She crested the door and stopped on the edge of the sidewalk.
“So,” he said, his tone tired, “yes.”
Four black SUV’s were parked randomly in the lot.
Merry stood in a bright salmon colored business suit and painful looking high-heeled shoes. She placed her fingertips against her chest and smiled. “You’re still here. I had to see for myself.”
Paige spread her hands to her sides. “You said you’d run us out of town, but, I guess you were wrong.”
“How long do you think you’ll make it here? Paige. Really.”
Oh, that tone. “We’re here to stay, Merry. Really.”
Merry leaned forward, paused, blinked and pulled back. She realigned her smile, tossing her head as if tossing her grey streaked hair.
Grey streaked hair? And the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth were deeper. Was she aging?
At an accelerated rate?
Connection. But was it enough?
For human case files? No.
But for hers? Yes. She’d send Dexx and Ethel off to gather surveillance. If they could show her aged, then have the aging reversed after a body showed up, then…
But a body had shown up and she was getting visibly older, not younger.
Crap.
Anyway, the surveillance would help.
“You have no friends here, Whiskey.”
“You’d be surprised. We appear to be fitting in a lot better than expected.”
Merry grimaced. “Where are your heathen children?”
Heathen children. “School.”
“I think we both know that’s an outright lie.”
“I think one of us is wrong.”
Merry paused and her smile slipped. “What have you done?”
Paige shrugged angelically. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Merry took a step forward, a wicked gleam entering her eyes. “What have you done?”
Paige stepped forward. “I think you’ve underestimated us, Ms. Eastwood.”
Merry glanced at Tarik, back to Paige, then again on Tarik. She drew herself up. “Ms. Whiskey.”
Paige waited.
Color drained from Merry’s heavily painted face. “This,” she said, pointing to Tarik, “was a mistake.”
“Really? Why?”
“The treaty.”
“You mean the treaty between the witches and the shapeshifters? Which has nothing to do with the…” Paige gestured behind her, craning her head on her neck as she whispered, “…djinn?”
Merry took in a sharp breath, her pupils pinpricks against the dark brown.
“And about that treaty…” Paige bit her bottom lip and smiled. “The one you broke? Repeatedly? Inviting war?”
Merry narrowed her eyes, saying nothing.
“And, you know…” Paige took in a breath, trying to figure out how to say what she wanted to. “The Council of Elders are very interested in the Eastwoods. As are the Shadow Sisterhood.”
All the color drained from Merry’s face. “What have you done?”
“I answered a threat,” Paige said coldly. “What did you think I was going to do?”
Merry mashed her lips together. “You don’t want to do this, Paige Whiskey.”
“I think I do. Because, unlike you, I have support. You have banks and property. Neat.” Paige raised her chin. “I have allies and power.”
Merry’s expression turned cold.
Paige flicked her eyebrows. “People are tired of your abuse, Merry. Think about that.” She folded her arms over her chest.
Merry took a step back and said, her voice low, “This means war.”
“I believe you told me that already.”
Walking to the SUV, Merry disappeared.
The same man as before—Oliver Eastwood—paused before following. He grabbed Paige’s gaze and held it significantly.
But she still couldn’t figure out what the fuck he was trying to say.
He turned and disappeared.
“Well,” Tarik said. “That went well.”
As well as it could under the circumstances. But war? Really?
They weren’t even close to ready.
Ethel pulled up in her crossover SUV. Paige didn’t know if it was a crossover or an SUV. It wasn’t the big, blocky SUVs she was used to. Ethel got out, brushing her blue hair out of her face and stared at the retreating line of black vehicles. “Was that the president or something?”
“Merry Eastwood.” Paige watched them turn the corner, heading out of town, back to Portland. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed her sister.
“Holy crap,” Ethel said, retrieving a white box out of the back seat. “That’s some shit.”
It was “some shit.” For sure.
“Yeah, Pea,” Leslie said into the phone.
“Got guests?”
“Nope. Should I?”
“Just checking.”
“Uh, okay. It’s just me, Margo, and her brothers. They’re very helpful.”
That they were.
“So, who was here?”
No sense in hiding it. “Merry.”
“No fucking way.”
“Yeah fucking way.”
Paige scanned the area with her eyes. They needed better protections. Like really good ones. Just around the precinct?
Around the town.
She needed Alma’s help. Maybe Leslie’s. “What are you doing later today?”
“Same thing I’ve been doing all fucking week. Why?”
Oh. Frustrated Leslie. So awesome to work with. “Wards.”
“They’re up.”
“At the house, but what about in town?”
“You want to ward the entire town?”
It wasn’t that bad an idea. “Against ill intent?”
“Don’t you think that’s a little against the law?”
“What law?” Paige sighed. She knew what Leslie was saying. Maybe it wasn’t against the law. Just high handed.
“What about we ward the store and your place?”
Paige nodded. “Fine. We’ll start there. When can you be ready?”
“Want to invite Grandma?”
“Probably. Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll go pick her up in a bit, then swing round and meet you at your place.”
“Sounds good. See you in a few.” She hung up.
Ethel stared at Paige, her lips firmly pursed.
“What?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to ask a question that could be rude.”
Paige knew what Ethel wanted. She wanted to see them work magick. “You want to see my boobs.”
“Yes.” Ethel shook her head, her expression telling Paige what a jerk she was. “I want to see your boobs.”
Paige thought about it, her lips pushed out, then nodded. “Okay.”
“Really?” Ethel appeared confused. “You’re gonna let me see your boobs. Right here? In the parking lot?”
Paige gave Ethel a frank look. “You want to watch us Craft.”
Ethel sighed with relief. “Gods, yes. Yes, I do. Though, I’m sure you’ve got great boobs.”
Paige turned. What were they going to need for wards? If she was a better witch, she’d know this. “They’ve fed babies. One baby. They sag.”
“I find this conversation,” Tarik said, his hands clasped behind him, “highly ineffective. You will need broomcorn and sage.”
Paige had never even heard of broomcorn. And how was it she was taking lessons on witchcraft from a djinni? She sucked as a witch. “I know we have sage.” But then again, if Leslie told Alma they were trying to put up wards, hopefully, she’d remember to bring that other stuff.
Paige really needed to become a better witch.
But she didn’t need the team there at the moment. She pulled up Chief Tuck’s contact information and called.
“Captain Whiskey,” he said. “I didn’t think we’d hear from you so soon.”
“Chief, one of my new detectives has been following homicides in Portland. A new body showed up a few days ago and we need to move on it.”
“I’m listening.”
Thank goodness. “This is big. This murder ties into several others. There was magick all over the crime scene.”
“Magick? How do you know?”
“I happened to be in Portland when the cops were called out to the scene. There was a kind of, I don’t know, magickal bleach on everything? I’d never seen anything like it before. Stripped away any kind of signature I could get.”
“Interesting.”
Yeah. She also appreciated that he wasn’t shutting her down right away. “But the other thing was that there were five kids. Souls had been stripped. Their mothers, when they touched the bleach magick, their souls were being leeched. Slowly. There’s something big at play here.”
He was silent.
“Look, Chief…” Paige didn’t know what to say or how to put it politely, so she went with the one skill she had. Blunt speaking. “I came to you and was honest for a reason. When I said we needed to be a good partnership, I meant it. Three big witch families. They’re not all great. Countless other witches out there doing Goddess only knows what.”
He still didn’t answer.
“Are you there?”
“I’m here.”
Oh, good. She wasn’t making her case to a silent, disconnected line. “There are things that have been happening to the people of this area and it’s been shuffled under the rug because no one knew how to research what was even going on. How do you scientifically test for a soul? You don’t, sir. But magickally? Yeah. You can.”
“Can you get it back?”
Good question. Bad answer. “Not that I know of. If the soul is gone, it was probably used to power something up. Probably. But maybe not. Maybe those souls are still inside the person who took them.”
“How likely is that?”
“Not very.”
“So, murderer.”
“And a bad one. One of my team members found over a dozen cases spanning just last year alone. If it’s who I think it is, it could go back a lot further than that.”
“And who do you think it is?”
Paige paused and stepped inside the headquarters. “Merry Eastwood.”
“Huh.” Chief Tuck didn’t speak for a moment. “Banes warned me about this.”
“I know, sir. I know.” And she did. She really did. In her position, she had to work harder to be fair. Truly fair. “But just because we’re enemies, doesn’t mean she gets off free. Free to murder? Free to do whatever the hell else she’s doing?”
“Hmm.”
She couldn’t afford for him to tell her no. “There isn’t anyone else who can investigate this, sir. Not really. You can gather evidence, but the kind of evidence you need for something like this? You can’t bag and tag. I have two people on my team that can smell death and tell me how many killers we have.”
He cleared his throat. “I don’t like it.”
“I understand, sir. I don’t like seeing a whole bunch of unsolved murders papering my walls, either.”
“You’re asking to go to Portland.”
“I’m asking to send my team to Portland.”
“What about you?”
She hung her head. “I have to put up magickal protections around the headquarters and Leslie’s shop.”
He paused. He was pausing a lot. “Why?”
Shit, shit, shit. “Because Merry Eastwood dropped by.”
“Why?”
“To let me know we should be out of town already and that she wasn’t happy we had found jobs.”
“Did she threaten you?”
“Yes she did.”
“With what?”
Fuck. This was her kinda sorta boss. “War.”
Silence.
She didn’t know what else to say.
“Between you Whiskeys and the Eastwoods?”
“Between the Eastwoods and everyone else.”
“This is what you brought to my doorstep? Banes was right to kick you out.”
“She’s had unfettered access to an all-you-can-eat buffet, sir,” she said louder than she should, her frustration taking over the conversation. “There is no one here to tell her no, to keep her in check. She just rolls in with blood power, growing younger instead of older. Doing whatever she wants to whomever she wants and there’s no one to tell her otherwise.”
Silence. Again.
“That’s why she wants us gone. Because we can provide that balancing force. We can keep her in check.”
“But first you have to see if she’s killing people.”
“She’s almost two hundred years old, sir, and she’s human. A witch, but human. She’s doing something and it ain’t good.”
He sighed. “Fine. Send your team to me. I’ll call Banes and warn him your team is coming.”
“Thank you.”
“And, Captain.”
“Yes, sir?”
He waited a moment before continuing. “Try to keep them safe. And us.”
Thank the goddess they had a well-balanced police chief in the area. “You got it, Chief.”
“And another thing.”
Uh-oh
. “Yes, sir?”
“Does this stuff have anything to with killing chickens?”
“Huh?” What was he talking about?
“These protections.”
“Um, no.” Where did people come up with this stuff? “Broomcorn and sage, but no chicken blood.”
“Great. Can you do that thing here? Without drawing…attention?”
She released a breath of a chuckle. “Yeah, Chief. We’ll swing by and rig somethin’ up for you, too.”
“Great. Get to work.”
“Yes, sir.” She hung up and headed to the bullpen where everyone was gathered at the whiteboard again. “Okay. Just got off the phone with the Chief.”
Michelle turned toward her.
“You guys are to report to Chief Tuck where he will interview each of you. Please be respectful. If you lack police procedural experience, then admit it. We’ll instruct you and pair you up with those that have it.”
Dexx nodded, his tongue in his cheek.
“That includes you.” She cut herself off before she called him her love. Not at work. Not at work.
“Okay.” He looked at her, his lips pulled off his teeth. “How honest do you want me to be?”
Oh, boy. “I was completely honest.”
Rainbow nodded, looking around. “Okay. Done.”
“After he lets you guys go, Tarik and Michelle, I want you to go to Portland, meet with Captain Banes, and look at the body from the other day if it’s still in the morgue.”
Michelle shook her head, opening her mouth.
“Gomez,” Paige barked, reminding the homicide detective what the rules were. Civilians had the freedom to disobey. Police officers and civil servants knew better.
Michelle held up her hands, palms out, and looked away, pissed.
Tarik hunched his shoulders. “This will give us a good opportunity to learn to work together and to gain one another’s trust. Yes?” He offered Michelle a smile.
“You two,” Paige said, her tone firm, “will have to get over this.”
Michelle’s eyes flashed green. “His kind enslave my kind.”
Paige’s vision blurred then came back into focus. “He’s not enslaving you. So, get over it.”
She opened her mouth again.
Paige needed to help these two build a bridge and fast. “My kind enslaved the shifters.”
The room went silent. Paige hadn’t realized anyone had been speaking until the silence fell.
Lead by example. Right? “Yeah. Witches enslaved shifters. That’s the reason for the war. That’s the reason for the treaty. That’s the reason shifters refuse to work with witches.”
Witches of the West - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) Page 15
