A Witch’s Revenge (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 4)

by Auburn Tempest

  While I climb down the metal ladder to the lounge and read area of the store, she finishes sorting the books.

  Before we return to the front of the store, I press a hand against the trunk of Myra’s home tree. “Looking good today, Mr. Tree. Glad to see you lush and strong again.”

  Myra’s vertically slit eyes glitter with pride as she takes in the restored health of her beloved ash tree. As a meliae, an ash nymph, her health and well-being is inextricably linked with that of her home tree.

  Leniya, or Mr. Tree as I prefer to call him, was poisoned and almost perished when the Toronto mages attacked and Myra fell into a coma.

  “It’s good to see you looking so happy and healthy too.” I sling my arm across her back and squeeze her shoulder as she pushes her little cart up toward the register. “Things are good, I take it? All’s well in the land of impassioned lion lovers?”

  Her giddy grin makes me giggle.

  “Very good, I take it.”

  She raises her hand and twirls, her electric blue hair swinging into the air. “At the risk of scarring you for life, I gotta say Garnet Grant has skills that go far beyond very good. He’s an absolute predator behind closed doors.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a second. I saw how much he loves you when you were sick. I’m glad you two reconnected.”

  She groans and shakes her head. “I feel like I’m a crazy kid again.”

  “You are a crazy kid. Haven’t you heard? One hundy ninety-five is the new thirty.”

  “Perfect, then I get to be your slightly older sister. No wonder we get along so well.”

  We’re still chuckling and chatting when the brass bell over the door chimes. The influx of customers means we sober and put our professional faces on. The roar of cars and outdoor city sounds invade our sanctum but are quickly cut off as the door closes.

  The storefront of Myra’s Mystical Emporium faces out onto Queen Street. It would offer us a steady stream of foot-traffic if the business wasn’t enchanted to admit only fae, empowered folks, or those who specifically need what we offer.

  Most of the time that means there aren’t more than two or three walk-in customers a day.

  Most of Myra’s business revolves around her locating and ordering rare books for repeat clients. Considering the store has been open for forty-five years, she has many of them.

  However, this is the last week of October—and that means Samhain, the most significant of the quarterly fire festivals. It takes place during the midpoint between the fall equinox and the winter solstice and is revered as one of the Greater Sabbats, and honors the coming of winter and hibernation.

  From the evening of October 31 to the evening of November 1, pagans welcome the completion of the harvest season and usher in the dark half of the year.

  Hallowe’en. The Day of the Dead. All Souls Day.

  BDL—Before Druid Life began, I dressed up for Hallowe’en, gave out Kool-Aid Jammers to the kids, then went to Shenanigans to get up to a lot of shenanigans.

  ADL—After Druid Life began, I look at all the holidays through a different lens. Most, if not all the Christian holidays were adapted from or designed to absorb Celtic or Pagan Sabbats as far back as Constantine in ancient Rome.

  Now that we’re embracing our druid heritage, I’m reevaluating how we should celebrate the Wheel of the Year. Samhain is believed to be a time when the barriers between the physical world and the spirit world break down, allowing interaction between humans and the denizens of the Otherworld.

  I admit, even knowing that magic is real, I’m not sure I believe that. Cray-cray, I know, since my long-dead ancestor Fionn mac Cumhaill visits me from time to time.

  I used to pronounce it phonetically. Embarrassing really, now that I know one common Irish pronunciation is Sa-win.

  “Merry meet, ladies.” Myra greets the three women who breeze in. “Let me know if I can help you find anything.”

  I’m working on learning how to identify the different sects of magically empowered people in Toronto. Considering these women look one hundy percent human and are wearing pendulum crystals as pendants, I’m guessing witches.

  It’s a pretty safe guess.

  One of the customers comes forward, unzips her jacket, and untucks her scarf. “We’re getting ready for our annual Dumb Supper and need a few things. We were told you have authentic incense?”

  Myra nods. “My crafter makes them in her greenhouse under the full moon and according to the moon cycles. All her products are made with natural and traditional ingredients and infused with an invocation at their time of crafting. You’ll find them through the doorway there to your right.”

  “Perfect. Do you have Tarot or Angel Cards?”

  “A small selection next to the incense. You’ll find most of the Wiccan offerings in that area of the store.”

  Ha! Wiccan. Nailed it. Witches bitches!

  The three of them hustle off, and I continue with the Samhain display I’m organizing. “So, this will be our first Samhain celebration, and I’m not sure how to bring it up with Da.”

  “Bring what up, duck?”

  “Well, traditionally, druids celebrate the night with a ceremony to remember their dead. Some even believe the dead come through the veil to be with them.”

  “Yes. Thus the reason for the Dumb Supper feast.”

  “Right. I’m worried about Da. We’re all still broken up and missing Brendan, but the idea that he might come through to us in a visitation is upsetting. I don’t know that Da’s ready for that.”

  “Uh-huh.” She opens the bin she brought from the storage room and starts unpacking sugar skull decorations. “So, you’re solely worried about your father and his pain around the loss of your brother?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  She straightens the wire legs of a giant, black, fuzzy spider and shrugs. “Just wondering, have you called the lady from the Widows and Orphans Fund to pick up the check waiting for you?”

  “Not yet.”

  “What about the officer in the Death Benefits department? Have you called him to settle Brendan’s claim?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  “But it’s your father who you think is having trouble accepting the loss?”

  I pull in a long, unsteady breath. “All right, I admit it’s not only my father who’s struggling.”

  Myra rounds the old display counter we use as a desk and squeezes my hand. “No. Of course it’s not, and that’s perfectly natural. At least you visit him in your meditation sacred spot.”

  “Yeah, but that’s his heritage spark mixed with my memories of him. As much as it comforts me to have him there, it’s not really him.”

  “But if he comes through during a druid celebration, it would be really him, and you’d have to accept that he’s gone.”

  I blink against the sting of tears and swallow. “My head knows he’s gone. I’m not sure my heart has gotten there yet. So, yeah, maybe the idea of him coming through scares me. What if he’s not him? Or worse, what if he is?”

  Myra leans in and hugs me. “One thing I know about these things is this. Intent is everything. If Brendan is anything like the rest of you, he’ll know what you can handle and what you can’t. He may have changed his plane of existence, but he’s still your brother.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “Have you ever reached out to your son?”

  Myra’s smile tightens, but she doesn’t balk at the question. “No, but maybe this year I will. Maybe enough time has passed, and I’m in a solid place with Garnet again, so I could survive it. I honestly never thought I’d get there, but I did—and you and your family will too.”

  I nod. “Okay, so not this year…but maybe another year.”

  The BlueBlood Steakhouse at Casa Loma is an upscale, fine dining restaurant with tons of ambiance. From the rich red of the wood paneling, beams, and fireplace mantels, to the large round booths with tufted leather seats and cowhide backs, the gold-mirro
r chandeliers with antlers on them—which could verge on being too much, but are pretty cool.

  “Would you look at this place?” Suede’s eyes are wide. “Is this how the other half lives? If so, I vote we do this more often.”

  I giggle at her enthusiasm but am in total agreement. “If the guys are willing to dress to impress like this, I’m game.”

  “Like what you see, do you Red?” Nikon waggles his brow and holds his hands so we get a full view. “Well, my offer stands. If you ever want to unwrap this package, you have permission.”

  Sloan scowls. “Are ye always on the pull or is it Fiona in particular who ye need to proposition?”

  Nikon flashes a cocky smile, undeterred. “Both. Look how her cheeks flush beneath her freckles. Adorbs.”

  I roll my eyes, thankful the banter is friendly.

  “You all look amazing.” Suede flashes them two enthusiastic thumbs up. “Definitely drool-worthy.”

  Nikon leads the pack to the maître d’ stand and leans in. “Party of eight for Tsambikos.”

  The maître d’ gives Nikon a strange look, but hey, he barely looks twenty-one let alone the twenty-one hundred he is in reality. It’s not the restaurant guy’s fault for wondering why the blond kid is running the show. “Right this way. A table by the fireplace as you requested.”

  “And the wine?”

  “Breathing to your specifications.”

  “Very good. Thank you.”

  We follow the maître d’, and I chuckle at our party of eight. Somehow between inviting Sloan as my date and mentioning I’m being sent to assess the feeding habits of the vampires—who hate me—my brothers decided this should be a family affair.

  So, it’s me and Suede escorted by Sloan, Nikon, Emmet, Dillan, Calum, and Kevin. Calum didn’t want Kevin involved, but he insisted. He knows what happened to Liam but says he won’t be shut out of any part of Calum’s life. To ready himself for what’s ahead, he started Krav Maga and asked about joining us in combat training and our daily workouts.

  So, it’s eight for dinner.

  Thankfully, Da is on the early shift and opted for bed. Aiden took a pass too. Kinu got a call from their landlord this afternoon, and they’re meeting with him after the kiddos go to bed. So, eight could be worse.

  It could be a party of ten. Cozy.

  The well-dressed man in black tie leads the way to one of the large, round booths in the center of the room. Suede and I slide in from opposite sides and shimmy our butts around until we meet again at the back. Sloan comes in beside me, Nikon beside her, and my brotherly bouncers fill in two spots on each end.

  The guys are still unbuttoning their suit jackets and settling in when Nikon takes the stage. “I told Fi this morning that I’m picking up the tab, so order what you like and spare no expense.”

  I snort. “You said that when you volunteered to accompany Suede and me. Since then, three became eight. You don’t have to pay.”

  “Unless you want to.” Emmet holds up his hands when I glare at him. “The Greek is our host for the evening. We don’t want to offend.”

  I shake out my napkin and lay it across the skirt of my dress. “Nikon, you’ve spent enough time with us now to understand the dynamic of my brothers. If you want to assert yourself, feel free.”

  Nikon waves that away and reaches for the decanter of wine. “Nothing to assert. I insist. After the hot chocolate drink fest and the road hockey bruises and the entertainment of watching you horrify the Guild Governors, I owe you all more than a dinner.”

  “Awe, he likes us.” Emmet pushes out his lips and blows him a kiss across the table.

  “Of course he does. We’re f—” Dillan seems to remember the atmosphere and changes course mid-curse “—awesome. He’s got great taste.”

  “You are f—awesome, and speaking of great taste,” Nikon gives himself a full pour of wine, sets his glass down, and holds out his hand. “Who wants wine?”

  “Have at it, Greek.” Dillan hands his glass to Emmet and down the line, it comes. While that’s happening, a girl in a tight black dress drops off a basket of warm rolls at our table.

  She gives Dillan an appraising once-over I’ve seen a million times. Both Dillan and Emmet have a certain sexy something that the ladies always pick up on. Tonight it’s even more evident because they’re dressed snazzy in slacks and suit jackets.

  After Nikon passes everyone their wine and we’ve all made our selections from the breadbasket, Dillan leans in. “So, is this restaurant owned and run by the…what can we say in public? We need a code word.”

  “Transylvanians?” I suggest.

  Nikon chuckles. “That’s not even close to accurate.”

  “Doesn’t have to be.” Dillan goes in for a second roll. “It’s solely a point of reference for us, and it’s a good one. So, is this restaurant run by Transylvanians?”

  “No.” Nikon sips his wine and eyes the people at the nearby tables. “It simply happens to be a high-end restaurant close to the Transylvanians’ residence. Their king appreciates the finer things and frequents the establishment.”

  That seems to make Calum and Emmet feel better.

  Honestly, me too. It’s nice to know we’re not surrounded by vampires waiting to pounce on us. If this is a human restaurant, there’s a level of protection offered by the crowd.

  “Where exactly is the nearby home of the Transylvanians?” Kevin asks.

  “Emmet has a theory about that,” I say.

  He nods. “I found an article that said during World War II they made extensive renovations to the stables outside. The gist is that the renos were a front and a secret military research facility was built underground. It’s widely believed that Station M is where they manufactured covert sonar devices used for U-Boat detection.”

  “If it’s widely believed, it was a shit secret,” Dillan says.

  Emmet laughs. “That’s exactly what Fi said.”

  “True story.”

  “Do you know what you want to order?” Sloan taps the menu in my hands.

  “I haven’t looked.” I’ve barely glanced at the offerings, so I give it my full attention and have a look. Leaning sideways, I whisper close to Sloan’s ear. “Why aren’t there any prices on the menu?”

  “Nikon likely asked for guest menus so we wouldn’t worry about the cost of things.”

  “That worries me even more.”

  Sloan chuckles and kisses my cheek. “Yer sweet to worry, but ye don’t need to. The Tsambikos family has amassed a fortune over centuries. A sixty dollar steak is loose change in the bottom of his couch.”

  “You see? The fact that there’s even a steak priced at sixty dollars is terrifying.”

  “There are steaks priced at two hundred dollars when dining in nice restaurants, Fi. Sixty is nothing to worry about.”

  “Times eight,” I whisper. “My brothers invited themselves.”

  Red. Stop worrying about the menu, Nikon says straight into my mind. Just order. It’s sweet of you to worry, but I’ve got this. Really.

  I roll my eyes and straighten. Eavesdropping is rude.

  Not when the whispered conversation is for my benefit. Seriously, I’ll enjoy it much more if you enjoy yourself and stop worrying.

  Okay. Thank you.

  It is genuinely my pleasure. Now smile and unclench your grip on the menu.

  I exhale my anxiety and flash him a genuine smile.

  “A toast,” Nikon says aloud while raising his glass. “To new friends and new adventures.”

  Between dinner and dessert, Suede and I excuse ourselves to freshen up and the two of us stretch our legs and check out the ladies' room.

  “That was so good, but I ate too much. I can’t believe I let Sloan talk me into dessert.”

  Suede exits her stall and joins me at the sink where I’m washing my hands. “Your Sloan is a very pretty man.”

  I chuckle. “You noticed that, did you?”

  She makes eyes at me in the mirror and we both chuck
le. “And, at the risk of being brash and sassy, your brothers are hot toddies too. Is anyone single? Am I allowed to ask or are there boundaries to our status as girlfriends?”

  “You’re allowed to ask. Calum and Kevin are together, obvi, but both Dillan and Emmet are single at the moment.”

  “That’s good news. Which one do you think would be a good match for me?”

  I finish with my lip gloss and drop it back into my purse. “That depends. Do you like your man to be a little broody and snarky or a sweet goofball who takes everything with a laugh?”

  “Oh, tough call.”

  When she finishes at the sink, we head to the door. “Honestly, you can’t go wrong. I’m biased, I get that, but they’re both great guys.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Good evening, ladies,” a man says behind us from the shadow at the end of the bathroom hallway.

  Funny, I don’t recall the hallway being dark and shadowed when we went into the ladies' room. Now, it is.

  “You both look lovely tonight.”

  “Xavier.” Suede’s easy manner evaporates, and she straightens while glancing up the hall toward the restaurant. “Sneaking up on ladies isn’t nice. You could’ve come to our table and said hello. Or, you can step out of the shadows now and address us properly.”

  “Your table is too crowded for my liking, and I find I learn a great deal about a person from observing from the shadows.”

  “There’s a word for that,” I say. “My father and brothers would call you a stalker.”

  Suede’s brow tightens, but I don’t care if I offend the scary vampire king. He already hates me. How much worse could it get? Besides, I’ve faced off with vampires before, and he isn’t about to attack me in his favorite restaurant and risk me releasing Bruin to defend myself.

  “I heard through the grapevine that Garnet wants a review of practices.”

  Suede nods and adjusts her footing to ease closer to me. “After this morning’s incident with your sheep getting loose, it seems reasonable.”

  “Fair enough. So, I understand you being here, but why the druid and the Greek?”

  I smile and do my best to show him I’m unaffected by his naturally menacing air. “Because apparently you hate me, and the majority of the Guild Governors threw me under the bus and voted me here hoping you’ll end me. Not my doing.”