The Cupcake Coven

by Ashlyn Chase

  Dru straightened. “You’re going to create—what? Some kind of supernatural person?”

  “Not a person. An energy. I’m using the word ‘he’ loosely. And as far as supernatural goes—you can’t get much more natural than pure energy.”

  “I don’t understand. What do you have to go to Myranda’s for?”

  “The Mars chart.”

  “Oh…the what now?” Dru scratched his head.

  “I don’t have time to explain it all. Just know that I won’t be long. You really don’t need to come with me.”

  Dru sighed. “I’m not lettin’ you go alone, so stop tryin’ to talk me out of it. I won’t annoy you with a bunch of newbie questions. We can just enjoy a nice walk on a beautiful day.”

  She nodded. “Fair enough.”

  He held the door for her and locked it behind them. She glanced at the plywood on the outside and her lips thinned. In a way, he was glad she’d gotten past the sadness and shifted into anger mode. As long as she didn’t do anything to hurt someone…Uh oh. Is that why she needs to create some kind of alternate being? Maybe she can’t hurt anyone, but it can.

  He quickly dismissed that thought. Rebecca wouldn’t do that. He didn’t know what this bodyguard would be able to do, but he was sure Myranda would. She’d stop her if Rebecca were about to try something dangerous…wouldn’t she?

  “So, what’s in the bag?” He reached for it and she let him take it from her.

  “Something for Keith’s party. It won’t be nearly as good as the cock cake, but I didn’t have time to remake it, and at least they’ll have a cute dessert.”

  He peered inside and saw a couple boxes and one of her frosting contraptions in a plastic bag. “What’s cute about it?”

  A sly smile resembling Hanna’s crossed Rebecca’s face. “I brought two dozen spice cookies, some raisins and a frosting gun.”

  “I can tell by your expression that’s not all there is to it.”

  “I have no idea if it’s going to work, but picture this…two round cookies side by side with a raisin in the middle of each. Then I’ll add a shelf bra with the frosting.”

  “I don’t know what a shelf bra is, but I’m picturin’ boobs!”

  She chuckled. “In that case, it just might work.”

  “You’re a very creative lady.”

  She grinned. “It’s not worth a hundred bucks, but the cookies alone will help buy a couple of those erotic molds.”

  “So, you’re still gonna add the adult specialty orders to your menu?”

  “Absolutely. It was a great idea.”

  Dru was quiet for a bit. He admired her guts and determination, but still…It would be so much simpler if he could talk her into selling and coming home to the ranch with him. He could protect her better there. And if she was fillin’ their stomachs, a dozen strong, strappin’ men with pitchforks would protect her completely.

  The hole left by his mother wasn’t just affecting him. She was the cook—an excellent one, and the lousy meals back home were probably getting pretty old. Earl might have already hired another cook. Dru made a mental note to check on that. He doubted pure energy could pick up a villain by the scruff of the neck and toss him out onto the sidewalk.

  They went to Myranda’s shop first. Apparently, Rebecca had called her and Myranda offered to let them in after closing. Then she called Keith and he said he could wait for the dessert until seven.

  Myranda opened the door and stepped back to let them in. “Hey, you two. Pretty inseparable these days, aren’t you?”

  Rebecca chuckled. “So it seems.”

  Dru hoped she wasn’t getting sick of him, but he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her. He hoped this sigil thing would be the answer.

  Myranda strode to a closet he hadn’t noticed before. Come to think of it, he was pretty sure it hadn’t been there. Maybe she’d had it covered with some kind of tapestry or something else on display.

  She rummaged through notebooks and loose papers, eventually pulling out a clipboard.

  “Ah ha. Found em. How many do you need?”

  “Three, I think.”

  Dru had planned to be quiet, but he couldn’t help himself. “You’re creatin’ three of these beings?”

  Rebecca frowned at him, but then sighed as if resigned to his curiosity. “Each sigil has only one job. I want one to protect me, one to protect you, and one to protect my house and business.”

  Myranda peeled off three sheets, and Dru noticed several various sized grids on each. Each graph was labeled with the names of different planets, and he couldn’t make any kind of sense of the letters in the grids. It looked like the world’s worst crossword puzzle.

  “Man, I had no idea magic could get so complicated.”

  Myranda smiled. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Dru. There’s plenty of good you can do with the basics.” She turned to Rebecca. “Do you want any help wording your commands?”

  “If you have a few minutes…” She laid a hand on Dru’s arm. “If you want to stroll around the neighborhood and look for Shasta, I’m perfectly safe here.”

  But am I safe? He’d had a funny feeling the whole time they’d been walking through the small city. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as if they were being watched. He wasn’t a wimp, but he wasn’t an idiot either. He’d be no good to Rebecca if someone decided to eliminate him. Keeping an eye out for trouble until she got her little energy beings created wouldn’t be a bad idea, though.

  “I think I’ll just stand out front and watch the world go by. Sometime you see more when you’re standing still.”

  Myranda nodded. “Very wise.”

  Myranda’s shop was on a fairly busy corner with a street light. Dru positioned himself so he could see everyone coming and going. Only a few minutes had ticked by when Rebecca popped her head out the door.

  “Hey, Dru. We’re going to go ahead and create the sigils instead of waiting until I get to my altar at home later.

  “Fine with me,” he said.

  A few minutes later, he realized the creepy feeling he’d had earlier had vanished. Was it coincidence? His subconscious? Or was there a little energy being out here, heading off the bad guys for him?

  As he contemplated that, a car rolled to a stop at the light. He spotted a young woman in the passenger’s seat. She had dark blonde hair, short with bangs, but…could it be?

  He cleared his throat loudly and she turned to look at him.

  His gaze met his sister’s eyes.

  “Shasta!”

  She tilted her head as if not recognizing her own name, then turned and said something to the driver. The light changed and the car took off like a shot.

  He thought he heard her yell, “Stop!” But the car kept going.

  “Shit,” he muttered. He dodged a car rounding the corner and sprinted in the direction of the fleeing vehicle. He could see the back of their heads and they appeared to be arguing.

  “Shasta! Stop!”

  The car slowed to take a right hand turn and the girl stared at him. They disappeared behind a building, but he wasn’t about to give up. He dashed down the street and when he rounded the corner, he could still see the vehicle. A bike was propped against the building he stood next to. He glanced around for the owner and didn’t see anyone.

  Just then a convertible slowed to take the same corner. He made eye contact with the male driver and wished he had a badge. Oh, what the hell…it’s worth a try.

  “Excuse me,” He pointed to the car ahead. “I need to catch up with that blue coupe. Is there any way…”

  The guy slowed for a moment, and Dru thought he may have caught a lucky break. Then the guy must have changed his mind and sped up.

  Dammit.

  The blue coupe disappeared from sight.

  “Why the hell didn’t you stop?” April demanded.

  Mike scuffed the pavement and stared at his shoes. “I—I’m sorry. At first I thought he was just a crazy person yelling a word.
He was outside that witch shop. I thought he was saying something like Shazam! I never heard of the name Shasta.”

  She had to agree that the wide-eyed man looked a little frazzled, but she’d heard, “Shasta” clearly. If that was her name, it didn’t ring a bell.

  “I keep trying to recall the guy’s face. I thought I might have recognized him.”

  “Or was that just from a recent encounter?” Mike asked.

  Crap. Now I know why he looked familiar. He was the guy giving out samples from the bakery.

  Mike brushed a bug off his Ford Mustang’s hood. “Hey, I’m sorry. I turned around and we tried to find him, but he was gone. If he’s looking for you, he’ll probably go back to that area. We can try again tomorrow.”

  April calmed down. At first she thought Mike had purposely been trying to keep her from discovering a clue to her identity. Just that morning he had said he wouldn’t mind if she never recovered her memory.

  “Yeah. I appreciate that.” At least she knew where she might find the guy, at the bakery.

  “He might have gotten you confused with someone else.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” But he must have been pretty darn sure if he was racing after me.

  Mike squeezed her hand. “Well, I should let you go inside. It’s a shame they don’t allow public displays of affection, or I’d kiss you goodnight.”

  She smiled. “I know.”

  “See you tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but maybe a little later. I need to catch up on my beauty sleep.”

  He grinned. “You’re plenty beautiful, but I guess I may not have let you sleep very much last night.”

  “Uh huh. Want to stop by around noon?”

  “Okay. I’ll take you out to lunch. How’s that?”

  “Sounds great. Thank you.” She gave his hand an extra squeeze, then strolled inside the shelter.

  “April,” Gus, one of the case managers exclaimed. “We thought you’d left.”

  “Left? Without saying goodbye? No way. I was just with Mike last night. I called Mrs. Reese.”

  “Oh. I haven’t spoken to her today. Well, I’m glad you’re back in one piece.”

  “How many pieces were you expectin’ to see me in? He ain’t that rough.”

  Gus reared back and laughed. “So, things are going well, huh?”

  She shrugged. “I guess so. I just wish I knew if I was cheatin’ on anybody.”

  He gave her a sympathetic smile. “I wish I knew what to tell you.”

  “Yeah. I know. I’ll talk to Mrs. Reese tomorrow. But right now, I’ve gotta wash some clothes, or I’ll have to go around butt naked.”

  A young man about her age was passing by at that moment. “I’d pay to see that.”

  “Yeah, like you and everyone in here could scrape together enough money.” She laughed.

  He shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

  Gus leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Do you want me to speak to him about his remark?”

  April waved away the very thought. “Nah. He was just makin’ a joke.”

  Gus straightened and smiled, probably relieved that he didn’t have to confront someone on sexual harassment and make a big deal out of nothing. “We sure will miss you when you do leave. I wish everyone could be as easygoing as you are.”

  She thanked him and went off to do her laundry, but something sat uncomfortably with her. Had she overstayed her welcome? Did they have some kind of time limit? She’d never heard of one, but it was possible they hadn’t mentioned it—maybe to avoid putting more pressure on her.

  She really had to find out about her past. If the guy from the bakery knew something about her, it was even more important to see him as soon as possible.

  All night Dru had been nearly inconsolable over finding—and losing Shasta. Rebecca watched him out of the corner of her eye as they got dressed. It was the first night they hadn’t made love since he’d moved in. She completely understood that a man’s emotional state could affect his performance, and a failure in that area was much worse than waiting for the storm to pass. Just holding him and letting his mind work things out in peace seemed like the right thing to do.

  “Thanks for your understanding and support last night, darlin’.”

  “I didn’t do much.”

  He shrugged. “You could have told me to take a walk and cool off when I was losing my shit. But you didn’t.” He grasped her arms and gazed into her eyes. “You stayed with me.”

  “Of course I did. What kind of person deserts a friend in need?”

  He pulled her into his arms and caressed her back. “A lot of people. That’s why there’s a name for it…a fair-weather friend.”

  “Well, consider me your all-weather friend.” She smiled up at him.

  “Sounds like a tire commercial.”

  His lips descended upon hers and they shared a long, languorous kiss. Heat sprang up between them and he threaded his fingers through her hair, and her own body responded, melding herself to him.

  She wished they had more time, but the bakery needed to open and close at the same times each day. She’d had to close a little early yesterday and an unreliable reputation wouldn’t help matters. Before they got too carried away, she pushed on his chest and stepped back.

  “We can’t.”

  He wiped his mouth, still wet from her kiss. “I guess we should have set the alarm a little earlier.” He smiled sadly. “Tonight, then.”

  “Count on it.” She was wearing one of her long skirts today. Who knows…maybe a quickie in the kitchen, later.

  They tromped down the stairs to the kitchen. Dru set the large coffee pot in the sink under the tap and watched as Rebecca donned her apron and preheated the ovens.

  “Gonna make more muffins this morning?”

  “I thought I’d try out some mini coffee cakes. I was actually dreaming up the recipe in my sleep last night, but there’s one problem I couldn’t figure out a solution to.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I have the old muffin pans from back when people wanted huge muffins. I wish I could roll up a piece of cardboard or something and have you hold it in the middle while I pour the batter around it. Then I’d sprinkle the brown sugar, walnut, and cinnamon filling, then top it off with some more batter.”

  “How would you keep the cardboard from fallin’ over or burnin’ up? I wasn’t plannin’ to hold them all while they’re baking.”

  Rebecca laughed. “That was the problem I couldn’t solve—if only I could think of something to use in the middle. When they’re baked, I’d set them on a plate upside down and drizzle a glaze on top that would run into the middle as well as over the outside.”

  He laughed. “Seriously? It’s not enough that you spend all day in the bakery, but you can’t even get away from dreaming of work in the middle of the night?”

  She smiled and shrugged. “I guess not.”

  “So what are you gonna do?”

  “I thought I might try using an apple corer after they’re baked. That will make the hole in the middle.”

  “I imagine I’ll be takin’ some of those middles out as lunchtime samples.”

  She smiled. “Like donut holes! You’re brilliant! Since it’s a new item, I can see which sells better.”

  “Sure.” He was grinning at her.

  “What?”

  “You. Just you.”

  She smirked. “I’m in bake mode now.” She scurried around gathering her ingredients and supplies.

  “While you’re doin’ that, I’ll get the coffee goin’.” He turned on the water full blast and they worked together in tandem as if they’d been doing it for years.

  As often happened when Rebecca’s guard was down, her mind wandered to what it would be like when Dru found his sister and took her home to Texas. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that he’d find her. It sounded as if he’d come close yesterday. Heartbreakingly close.

  He hadn’t said ‘I love you’ since that nigh
t in the shower, but that was her fault. She’d told him not to. And as he so logically pointed out, not saying it wouldn’t make it go away. Not saying it certainly hadn’t stopped her from feeling it.

  But if she had to let him go, what good would it do? Speaking the words or simply feeling them, either way, he was going to leave her and it was going to hurt.

  Dru finished getting the coffee pot ready and plugged in. It started softly percolating. Rebecca had her batter ready to go and shoved the large bowl under the industrial mixer, then tipped its head down like a Saber tooth tiger taking a drink.

  As the mixer whirled and squealed, she measured out the brown sugar, chopped walnuts and mixed them together with the cinnamon. Then she greased her pans.

  Dru took a seat and opened the book Hanna had given him. “Don’t they make pans with the little metal part inside?” Dru asked.

  “Yeah. They’re called Bundt pans, but I’ve never seen any this size.”

  “You’re not one of those women who can’t throw in the towel and say, ‘Oh well, we tried,’ if a concept doesn’t work, are you?”

  She chuckled. “Why? Do I seem that stubborn?”

  He smiled with raised eyebrows as if apologetic. “Uh, yeah. If the way you’re hangin’ on to your home and livelihood are any indication.”

  She stuck a hand on her hip and faced him. “What would you suggest I do differently?”

  “Nothin’.” He held up his hands. “Not a gosh darn thing. Well, unless you’re talking about these coffee cakes. Then I suggest you find a readymade pan and forget messin’ with the middles.”

  She placed the pan in the oven and set the timer. “If these come out well, which I doubt they will, let’s not use them as samples until I find those nonexistent pans. I can see the middles falling apart as soon as someone picks them up.”

  “Maybe you can have the pans custom made.”

  She stared at him. He was actually serious. “Custom anything costs more money than I have at the moment. Maybe down the road…”

  He quieted and returned to the coffeepot. “Coffee’s ready. I’ll take this out front.”