Casting Shadows (The Ash Grove Chronicles)

by Amanda DeWees

  “I’m not going to talk about my fiancé with you,” she said shortly.

  “Aw, come on, I’m not asking you for state secrets. Give a guy a break. It’s a tough economy; I could use a good scoop.”

  She began to gather up her books. “I don’t know why you’re looking for one here. Tanner and I just want to be left alone.”

  “And I just want to know what really happened between him and Melisande. It seems awful convenient, her retiring just when your boyfriend decided to quit her.” His expression was no longer amiable.

  “None of us are going to talk to you,” she said. “Now get off our property before I call the police.”

  She didn’t wait for a reply, just picked up her books and went back into the house, turning the deadbolt behind her.

  Her father was at the dining table, reference books stacked around him. He glanced up as she entered. “I’m glad you decided to come inside,” he said. “As long as that creature’s out there, I’d rather you weren’t alone. Joy, tell me: did it have any particular smell? Sulfur? Rotting meat?”

  For a second she thought ‘that creature’ meant the reporter. It took her a second to change mental gears back to Tanner’s double. “Calvin Klein’s Sybarite,” she recalled. It was the fragrance whose ads featured photographs of Tan in brooding-beefcake mode.

  Steven raised his eyebrows, taken aback. “Did its homework, didn’t it?”

  “Speaking of, that Billups guy was here. I told him he wouldn’t get anything out of us, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes back.”

  “Hmm.” Her father jotted down a note. “Let me know if he shows up again, and I’ll file a police report. The last thing we need is that reporter interfering.”

  Joy retrieved her English muffin—it felt like a month ago that she’d put it in the toaster—and curled up in a chair by a front window where she could see the road. She would also be able to see if Billups returned.

  It was a couple of hours before she finally heard the distant growl of Tan’s bike, and she hurriedly wobbled out onto the porch to meet him as he pulled up in front of the house and dismounted.

  “I’ve been so worried,” she blurted, as he took his helmet off. “You didn’t pick up when I called.”

  “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just couldn’t deal with all that, not when I was still freaked out by what happened.” He came to the foot of the steps, his helmet under his arm, his face grave. “My parents used to fight a lot,” he said in a low voice. “Like, neighbors-calling-the-cops fights. When you and your dad got into it I just kind of went into survival mode. ”

  She’d known his parents were toxic, but not to the point that what she considered just a heated discussion would be a trigger for him. Her heart gave a pang. “We’re usually a lot less shouty,” she promised.

  “It’s okay. I went around to see some of the bikers Bobby rides with. They’re going to start keeping an eye on the house in shifts so there won’t be any more unexpected visitors. If I’m not here and anything worries you, just yell, and there’ll be someone close by to come running.” The hint of a grin came and went on his face. “Trust me, these guys will make anyone think twice about trying to get in your space.”

  “Thanks, Tan.”

  “I should have thought of it sooner,” he said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have risked you being alone.”

  “You had no way of knowing there’d be things like that around.” She held out her hand to him. “Let’s go talk to Dad and see if we can figure out what’s walking around in your skin, and what we can do about it.”

  “One thing first, though, before we go inside.” He set his helmet down and walked up two stairs, so that his face was level with hers. His eyes were still serious. “I’ve given it a lot of thought,” he said, smoothing her hair back from her face, “and I haven’t seen any signs of—of Melisande in you.” It cost him some effort to say the name. “Ever since your father brought it up, I’ve been on the lookout.” His hand lay still now on her hair. “And there is nothing, nothing at all to suggest that you took on any part of her.”

  A knot in her stomach that she hadn’t known was there eased. “I’m so glad,” she said, feeling how inadequate the words were.

  He smiled then, and she realized just how rarely he had smiled lately. The sight of it warmed her more than the autumn sunshine. “I should have trusted my own instincts,” he said. “I’ve never felt drained or depleted when I’m near you. Being with you makes me feel stronger.” His fingers traced her face and came to rest on her lips. “You make me feel whole.”

  She scarcely dared to speak, not wanting him to stop. But she had to ask. “And the baby?”

  Without hesitation, he laid his hand on her belly. There was no tingle this time, and nothing happened to Tan. He said, “I don’t know what’s up with Rose, but I’m not afraid of her. And she seems to like me all right, at least for now. Once she hits puberty, she’ll probably turn against us both anyway.”

  Joy laughed in relief and wound her arms around his neck. “Tan,” she said, “would it sound terribly succubussy of me if I told you that if you don’t kiss me, right now, and start making up for all the time we’ve lost, I’m going to have to drag you to my lair and maul you?”

  His luminous grey eyes gazed into hers. “Oh, you mustn’t do that,” he murmured. “That would be terrible.” His lips brushed hers, teasingly at first, then more deliberately. Then she was melting into him as they drank each other in, joyous and eager after their long thirst.

  Behind them, a throat cleared. “In your own time,” came her father’s voice, politely, “if you’d like to come inside, we should talk about what we’re up against.”

  Joy didn’t open her eyes. “Just give us five minutes, Dad.”

  Tan whispered in her ear.

  “Ten,” she amended.

  It wasn’t all sunshine and unicorns after that, of course. They needed to figure out how to protect Joy from the creature that had accosted her, and how—if it was possible—to get rid of it altogether.

  “It’s possible that it’s just a homunculus, a sort of puppet creature doing the bidding of a stronger magician,” said Steven. “But the worst-case scenario is that it’s a shapeshifter, and that it can take on any persona, not just Tanner’s.”

  “I don’t know whether that’s good or bad,” said Tanner, and Steven cocked an eyebrow at him and said dryly, “I’m having trouble seeing the good here.”

  “What I mean is, if it’s not my double, but something else, it seems less personal, somehow.”

  Joy understood. “It must have been pretty horrible to see something in your shape,” she said. “That would shake anyone up.”

  “It just… it just felt wrong. Only I was the one who was wrong. It was like finding out that I was an extra unnecessary thing. That there wasn’t any place for me anymore.”

  “Tan, you know that’s not true.” She drew his arm more closely around her. “That thing was the one who didn’t belong. You’re essential.”

  He thanked her with a look. “Another thing is, if it can take on other people’s likenesses, it would need to know them pretty well, wouldn’t it?” he asked. “This thing in the kitchen looked amazingly like me. It got some of the details wrong, but it probably would have fooled anyone but Joy. How can it have gained that level of knowledge? Is it using some kind of magic surveillance, like, I don’t know, a crystal ball? Is that really a thing?”

  “Scrying globes and mirrors do exist,” Steven allowed. “Or it’s possible that this entity is in a position to see us as we go about our lives and observe us firsthand.”

  Joy shuddered. “Invisibly? Or could it be in another form, posing as someone we actually know?”

  Steven tented his fingers and rested his chin on them. “Either is possible. We know so little. What I can say with certainty is that we all need to be more cautious. Joy, have you been wearing your mother’s rowan pendant?”

  “I gave it to Tan a whil
e back.”

  “I see.”

  Her father’s tone prompted Tanner to reach for the chain around his neck and say, “Joy can have it back.”

  “No, at this point I think we all need protection. Keep that, and I’ll make Joy a new one.”

  “I didn’t know you made Mom’s pendant,” she said, surprised. She kept forgetting that her dad was like Buffy’s Giles. All these years she’d had no idea that he had a secret life mixed up with the paranormal.

  As for the matter at hand, “I’m going to alert the council to the existence of this thing and see what light they may be able to shed on this,” he said now. “And this house needs more potent security measures. I’ll need to get supplies first, but before nightfall I’ll make sure the house is thoroughly protected. Tanner, if you’re not going in to work today, perhaps you can give me a hand. I’d appreciate your help putting the safeguards in place.”

  “Sure,” said Tan. “Whatever you want.” His voice was flat, and Joy realized that he must have thought her father was making a dig at him about staying home from work that day.

  “Think of it as male bonding, Wicca style,” she said, nudging him with her elbow to coax a smile from him.

  That afternoon the two men made a thorough journey through and around the house, sealing all entrance points from invaders with salt, herbs, and runes, as well as some Latin phrases that meant little to Joy. Since she wasn’t comfortable spending so much time on her feet, she contributed by making wreaths of holly until she was fed up with being stuck by the prickly leaves. There were bound to be ready-made ones available at this time of year, she decided, abandoning the project and turning to the less painful process of tying up clusters of bright red rowan berries with ribbon to hang at windows and doorways. She would call Gail to ask her to check a nursery for real holly wreaths and garlands.

  By midafternoon all the precautionary measures were in place. The scent of herbs hung in the air, and the windows and doorways looked like a New Age gift shop. Steven also insisted that they all wear protective charm bags around their necks and carry silver knives. Joy regarded hers dubiously. She just didn’t know if she would actually be able to use it on anyone. Maybe it would be different if her life—or Tan’s, or Rose’s—was being threatened. But hopefully just having silver with her would forestall any need to use a weapon. And there was also the comforting knowledge that a burly biker was already stationed at the end of the driveway.

  “Just about all done,” announced Tanner, joining her in the dining room where she was cleaning up broken bits of herb and leftover ribbon. “If your father’s sources are anything to go by, we’re sealed up tight as a drum.”

  “I hope so.”

  He gave her a quizzical look and sat down next to her. “You don’t think we’re secure enough?”

  She leaned in and lowered her voice. She wasn’t sure just where her dad was at the moment, and she didn’t want him to overhear. “I can’t help wondering if the council had something to do with this.”

  He grasped her meaning immediately. “You mean, they might have sent this thing to get answers to their questions?” When she nodded, he chewed the idea over for a minute. “You know them better than I do,” he said. “Is this their style?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought so. But I wonder if Dad and I put too much trust in them.” She realized that again her arms had gone around her belly as if to protect Rose from even the idea of harm.

  “You think your dad is involved?” he asked.

  “No!” she exclaimed, shocked. “He couldn’t have known. But the council could have used information he passed on innocently. I just think we should be careful, is all.”

  “No argument here. I don’t want you or Rose to be at risk.” He leaned over to kiss her, but then hesitated. “Can I ask you something? When it kissed you, was it—like me?”

  She hadn’t expected that. “Honestly, I don’t remember. It’s just kind of a blur now.” But he still looked troubled, so she made herself go back over the creepiness in her mind. “I do remember that he, it, was too pushy,” she offered. “You read my signals much better.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” With her forefinger she smoothed out the worry line between his brows. “Tan, you are the only one I want kissing me. I will accept no substitutes.”

  As the week passed without further incident, she began to relax. Maybe all the supernatural safeguards were working, and maybe the council wasn’t involved after all. Her father’s tests turned up no signs of anything supernatural in her. As a bonus, Standish Billups seemed to have backed off and was no longer in evidence. On top of that, Friday, date night with Tanner, was drawing closer, and that should have been reason to be happy. Dr. Patel had reassured them that date-night pursuits were safe as long as they avoided certain specific activities, the descriptions of which made Joy blush.

  Yet when Friday came she found herself feeling more hesitant as the afternoon turned to evening and her father left them to themselves. She was preoccupied throughout supper, which they ate by candlelight, and when Tanner suggested, with a meaningful look, that they leave the dishes for the next morning, she took his hand to restrain him from leaving the table.

  “Tan, I—this is embarrassing, but I’m kind of feeling insecure.” She spoke to the tablecloth, unable to meet his eyes.

  “Is it because of the baby weight? Because that doesn’t make a bit of difference to me.”

  He might not feel the same way when he saw her naked, but it wasn’t just that. She tried to find a way to frame it that he would understand. “Have you ever seen the movie Rebecca, or read the book?” Clearly he hadn’t. “The heroine marries a man whose first wife was perfect and glamorous and sexy, and she knows she can’t live up to his memory of her. And I know that, compared to Melisande—”

  His face changed at the mention of her name, and she could have kicked herself. “I’m just not feeling very confident right now that I’ll make you happy,” she said wretchedly. “As… you know. As a lover.”

  “Babe.” He came around the table to hunker down by her chair and took her gently by the chin so that she had to look at him. “You’re my Joy. My joy, get it? You do make me happy. The last thing I want is someone like her. You know what she was.”

  “But she was beautiful—and incredibly seductive.”

  He was shaking his head even before she stopped speaking. “Those were her weapons. She was all about what she needed from me, and that wasn’t love or even pleasure.”

  She knew that was literally true, that sex for Melisande had been sustenance, but she also knew that the succubus had had an irresistible power over men. Melisande had had generations, perhaps centuries, of experience as a lover. She must have had mind-blowing skills in bed, whereas Joy was an inexperienced seventeen-year-old.

  “You weren’t worried on Beltane,” he reminded her.

  “That was different. Everything just kind of happened, and I wasn’t even thinking. I was just in the moment.” If she’d thought about it beforehand, she probably would have been as intimidated as she was now.

  He took her face in his hands. “Listen. You’re everything that she wasn’t. Warm and giving and passionate—and you saved my life, which is sexy as hell.” That made her smile, and he rewarded her with a lingering kiss that raised the temperature in the room several degrees. Then he said, “And you’re forgetting something.”

  “What?”

  “This isn’t all about me. I want to make you happy too.” The meaning in his steel-grey eyes made her heart somersault in her chest.

  “Oh,” she said.

  “Mm hmm.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

  “Maybe it’s time you did,” he said, and when he stood up and drew her to her feet she had no objection at all.

  Joy felt duty bound to give her father a report on date night, since it would put to rest his fears that she had been infected by Melisande. It wasn’t a conversation she loo
ked forward to, though. How did a girl tell her father about her sex life?

  She was able to put it off all the next day because her father was on campus, but she knew she couldn’t avoid it any longer when they were all gathered at the dinner table. She and Tan were taking Maddie out that evening, so the time for procrastination was over. “Dad, I know you’re probably wondering how everything went last night,” she began.

  He gave her a hunted look over the stroganoff. “I never said that.”

  “But you and the council will be wanting to know.” She looked over at Tanner, who gave her a thousand-watt smile. Clearly he wasn’t feeling awkward. “I’m not quite sure how to phrase this—”

  “I think the expression you’re looking for is ‘rocked my world,’” said Tanner.

  Joy’s father choked on his food.

  “Really, I don’t need details,” he said when he could speak.

  “Well, that’s good, because we weren’t planning on giving you any,” said Joy primly. “So let’s just say for the sake of analogy that you were worried about… my baking. You were afraid that I might have gotten some contaminant in my muffins. Well, Tanner, um, ate some of my muffins”—oh dear, this was not turning out to be the best choice of metaphor—“and didn’t get food poisoning. He’s perfectly fine.”

  “Is that true?” her father asked Tanner.

  “Oh, absolutely. I thought her muffins were delicious. I even had a second helping—and a third, I think, didn’t I, babe?”

  “Tan!”

  “Too much information.” Her father looked panicked.

  But Tanner wouldn’t be stopped. “In fact, I could go for some more muffins right now. Let’s get that oven preheating, huh?”

  Steven actually put his hands over his ears. “I’m not listening.”

  “How can you reassure the council if you don’t know what to tell them?” asked Tanner, all innocence.

  “I’ll wing it. Please, that’s enough.”

  “Enough? I don’t know if I can ever get enough of Joy’s muffins.”

  Joy had hidden her face in her hands. She heard her father push his chair back from the table. “I think I’ve lost my appetite,” he said, and left the room.