whiskey witches 02 - blood moon magick

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whiskey witches 02 - blood moon magick Page 25

by blooding, s m


  “Yeah. But maybe he could claim they had an affair?”

  Maybe. She didn’t care as much about clearing the governor’s name as she did about figuring out why Oriel had taken an interest in her.

  “I hate having to come up with lies on a case.”

  “Me, too.” It went against the grain. She upheld the law. Should be simple. Cut and dry.

  But in this case, it wasn’t. The demon had killed Elizabeth Harwood.

  A part of Paige didn’t even care. She was just so overwhelmed. Dexx was a shifter—and a big one at that. Sven had escaped again.

  She pulled out her phone and texted Danny. Find the trail.

  “Okay. Well, what’s the plan here? Are you just going to storm the gates and call on the demon? Do you have a plan?”

  She really didn’t. Dang it. She needed to stop running headlong into situations with a plan. She sighed. “We find him. We talk to the demon. We get a few answers. I send him back to Hell, then we find a way to get the governor cleared of the murder charge.”

  Her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen. Danny had texted her back. I’ll try.

  “Not to add fuel to the fire here, but you do realize what will happen if we can’t clear his name, right?”

  She frowned at her partner. “What?”

  “We’ll lose our job.”

  “What?”

  Tony wrung the steering wheel. “Chief hasn’t been pleased for a long time. Not with me—”

  “No wonder, Tony. You were breaking protocol. He was probably having to clean up after you.”

  Tony shook his head. “He knows there’s something going on here. He just doesn’t want to know what it is. He’s okay with us cleaning it up, but…” His voice trailed off.

  “But what?”

  “He seems to think that if you and I left, all these cases would just disappear.”

  “Why? Because the paranormals and the demons would run away? Magickally?” She couldn’t restrain the sarcastic tone in her voice.

  “Maybe.”

  They pulled into the gated community the governor lived in.

  “These aren’t houses,” Tony said, pulling up to the governor’s large two-story brown home.

  Paige was used to houses like this. She’d grown up in a very old, very rich neighborhood. Her family had done well. So, she was a little put off by the splendor of the neighborhood.

  Tony rolled his eyes and got out of the car.

  She followed him to the ornate, dark door.

  It opened before she had a chance to ring the doorbell. A tall man with greying hair stood in front of them in a dark suit.

  Really? A dark suit? Did butlers really exist and did they really wear that? Yes. Paige had grown up on the richer side of town, but none of her neighbors had been able to afford a butler.

  “Ms. Whiskey,” the man said, looking down his nose. “The governor said to inform you he will meet you at the coffee house on California and 16th Street.”

  Paige narrowed her eyes. He’d known she was coming. Public location. What was the demon up to?

  “What’s going on?” Tony asked when they were back in the car.

  “I don’t know.”

  They drove into downtown Denver in silence.

  Tony found parking close to the location and didn’t complain about the price of parking. Paige maintained a quick pace. They hadn’t been able to find parking right next to the coffee shop. They were a block and half down, and one over.

  Starbucks came into view just south of 16th Street. Paige slowed down, her breathing normal.

  Cawli was oddly quiet.

  I am here, but only if you need me.

  She certainly hoped she wouldn’t.

  Governor Hicks wasn’t hard to spot. He hadn’t changed much except his tie since the last time she’d seen him in Kris’ memory. He spotted her and Tony when they entered and smiled.

  She walked to his table, one hand on her hip near her service weapon.

  “You won’t have some coffee?” the governor asked with a slight English lilt.

  Not in the mood. “Cut the crap, Oriel. What do you want?”

  He smiled at his paper cup. “Always so direct. I can see why the underworld enjoys your company. Please. Sit.”

  She hadn’t intended on staying long enough to sit.

  “It is, of course, up to you. But I would prefer a civil conversation. I do believe you can accommodate.”

  “Why would I?”

  “Because I have information you need.”

  “Like?”

  “Have a seat, please.”

  She narrowed her eyes on his balding, ginger head. Then, with a sigh, she pulled out the chair and sat down.

  Tony sat at the table behind her.

  “Why aren’t you in Texas?” Oriel asked.

  “Because my job is here.”

  “And why aren’t you looking for a job back home?”

  She watched his face for anything out of the ordinary. A twitch. An irregular blink. Nothing. Smooth as glass. “My home is here.”

  “Is it really?”

  If she went home and Oriel hadn’t told the Eastwoods about her foray into the paranormal woods, she’d be bringing the war right to the Whiskey doorstep. “What do you want?”

  “You’re very important, Ms. Whiskey.”

  “To whom?”

  “The world.”

  “I rather doubt that.”

  “Oh, please.” He leaned back, drumming his fingers in a harsh staccato against the table. “I hate false modesty.”

  “It’s not false anything. I’m just one person.”

  “And you’re the only one primarily positioned to handle the brewing situation.”

  “What ‘brewing situation’?” she asked, placing the same lilt on his words as he had.

  “The demons? You’re trying to tell me you haven’t noticed the rise in their number?”

  It did seem a little odd, but she had been busy.

  Dexx being a shapeshifter.

  Demon door inside her soul.

  Imminent war with the other witch families.

  Her dance card was a little full.

  “Ah, yes. I see. Well. That. I assure you, Ms. Whiskey, that your personal situation is being taken care of.”

  What had he read on her face? He obviously sucked at telepathy. “My personal—what?”

  “Your daughter.”

  Fucking meddling demons! “You leave my daughter out of this.”

  “We are only trying to help.”

  “I don’t need it.”

  “You’re already getting it.” He smiled, his pale face turning rosy in the sunlight peeking around the skyscrapers. “But only if you return to Texas.”

  She was tired of being played. “Why do you want me to go home?”

  The demon took two sugar packets, tore the top off, and dumped out the contents on the table. “Events are coming into play, summoner, and you have a very large part to play in them.”

  More bullshit nonsense. “Are you a player? Or a watcher?”

  His smiled widened. “Ah, finally. It is so very good to see you’re catching up.”

  “That didn’t answer my question.”

  “No. It didn’t. Did it?”

  She needed an answer. “Did you contact the Eastwoods?”

  His pales eyes brightened, though the corners of his lips turned down. “Why would I do that? Wouldn’t that endanger you?”

  “I don’t know what your intentions are. I only know that I ‘have a big part to play.’ That ‘part’ could be my death.”

  “Oh, be assured. We need you alive.”

  “We.”

  He hmm’d and dropped his gaze to the spilled sugar on the table.

  “You and Sven?”

  “Sven is an irritation,” Oriel said with a long sigh. “He might terrify you due to the body count he leaves behind, but, no. He has nothing to do with this.”

  What was the likelihood that Sven might
turn out to be the better person? An ally?

  That was a terrifying thought.

  His fingers stilled in the sugar as if he’d felt that thought.

  Shit. “You were the one who drew me into this investigation.”

  “I did.”

  “If it wasn’t to start the war—”

  There. A slight tick at his right eye. Got you, you sick sonofabitch.

  “—then, why?”

  He leaned forward and said softly, “I want you to fight, but to do that, you have to be whole.”

  So, he had known the animal spirit would fix her. “Did you know what Sven was doing in Louisiana?”

  “That’s how we were drawn to your situation. Summoner,” he said, returning his attention to the sugar, “believe what you will, but we are on your side. He opened the Gate. We saw. I was sent to repair the damage done. End of subject.”

  Sounded like a plausible one, but she didn’t buy it. “So you want me believe the ‘you’re a good demon’ story?”

  His expression slammed shut. “Go home.”

  There were so many reasons why she couldn’t. Her family had betrayed her. The house would remind her of Leah. She had no job.

  And if Oriel really hadn’t told the Eastwoods about her, then she would be bringing the war home. That tick, though, when she’d pushed the issue. It wasn’t much, but she was willing to wager he’d done exactly that. Somehow.

  But was that a wager she was willing to bet? What if he hadn’t? What if he was just playing with her?

  “No? You won’t go?” Oriel leaned back and folded his hands over his abdomen. “Then, I guess you won’t care if Shannon over there takes that knife and kills Bill.”

  Paige jerked with a frown. “What are you—”

  Someone screamed.

  Paige twisted in her chair to stare at the barista.

  One of them had a knife in her hand and was advancing on one of her male coworkers.

  “What are you doing?” Paige hissed.

  The demon chuckled, the governor’s shoulders jostling with the motion. “You have the power to stop this.”

  “By what? Promising to go back to Texas?”

  “No.” Oriel smiled smugly. “By sending me back to Hell.”

  That was all?

  Cawli stirred in warning.

  Paige didn’t care. If she could end this now, she would. She dipped into her power center, extending her witch hands out. She latched onto his demon soul and pulled.

  Oriel smiled one last time with the governor’s lips. “You really thought it would be that easy?” He released his hold on the governor’s body and slipped out of her grasp before she realized what he was doing.

  Her witch hands flew, lengthening to follow him.

  But his smoky black soul shot out the door and into the busy streets of downtown Denver.

  She shot to her feet intent on following him.

  Another woman shouted, “Call 9-1-1!”

  Paige turned.

  The governor lay on the floor, his eyes bloodshot, blood dripping out of his nose, his purple tie askew.

  Tony stood beside her, his lips forming an ‘o’ of shock and surprise.

  Paige wasn’t sure what had just happened.

  She hadn’t won, though.

  It took a few days for things to settle down. The paranormal community of Nederland was still rebuilding itself after what had transpired. Paige still didn’t know what to do with the treaty, but no one in Nederland seemed too keen to insist she’d broken it.

  Which was good. She needed more information on it and the other witch families that had signed it in the first place.

  Dexx was progressing nicely. After the second day as a shifter, he was able to change shape without a great deal of pain. Due to the nature of the size of his animal, according to everyone she spoke to, it was only natural that he experienced that much pain each time he shifted.

  The chief told the press about Governor Hick’s DNA on the body of Elizabeth Harwood. The story being told was that she had been his lover. Days later, after becoming distraught with killing her and then being discovered, the governor’s heart had simply failed him.

  Tony put his desk phone down and shook his head in disgust. “This sucks.”

  Paige scrolled through the rest of the headlines on her phone, but chose not to open any of them. She’d been looking for Danny’s byline, but the only thing he’d published was some low-lying piece on the local recycling company opening up.

  The phone on Tony’s desk buzzed. Chief Gorman’s voice blared through. “You and your partner. In my office. Now.”

  Shit. She didn’t want to be a part of this conversation, but she couldn’t escape it either.

  Tony relaxed his expression and stood. “Better get this over with.”

  Paige followed her partner down the long row of desks into the chief’s office.

  “Shut the door.”

  Crap. She followed his order, the blinds clacking against the window. She took the empty seat in front of his desk.

  Chief Gorman rubbed his balding head. “Do you have any idea how much I had to cover up for you two?”

  He didn’t even know what he was covering up.

  “The bodies. The DNA. The evidence. The coroner?”

  Paige glanced at Tony. What had Barn said?

  “I had to pay him off so he would continue to not notice the bodies being taken to Nederland without proper processing. Again.”

  They needed to find a better story if they were going to keep their job.

  “I have half a mind to go to Nederland and figure out what is so damning.”

  “You lack the jurisdiction, sir,” Tony said, his tone cool.

  “The FBI doesn’t.”

  Paige swallowed. She didn’t know how the FBI worked, but she doubted Jack would have a whole lot of pull if they were released on the town.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”

  “The case is closed,” Paige gritted out.

  “Yes, well. The governor. Really not your best.”

  She wasn’t sure how much her old boss had told him, but if he had any idea what was really going on, he might change his opinion. “Do you want to know?”

  “What?”

  “What we’re dealing with?”

  He slammed his hands on his desk. “No, dammit. I do not.”

  “How long are you going to remain blind, deaf, and mute?” Paige demanded.

  The anger washed out of his face. He paused a moment, then smiled.

  Fuck.

  He placed his palms on his desk and leaned in. “I want you both out of my city.”

  “What?” Paige asked.

  “You’re fired. Go back to Henry. Tell him you want your old job back. I don’t care, but I want you out of my city. Both of you.”

  Tony’s mouth hung open. “Chief?”

  “Both of you!”

  “Chief, if you’d just listen.” What could she say? She had to get her job back. She had to find a way to make this work.

  “Get out!”

  Tony pulled on her arm.

  Paige walked out of his office in a shocked stupor.

  Tony fell into his chair and stared at her.

  “What are you going to do?” Paige asked after a long, silent moment.

  He shrugged. “I have no idea. You?”

  A frown flickered across her brow. “I have no clue.”

  “You could go home.”

  She really couldn’t. The danger was just too high.

  She could go to Portland. Bring the issue directly to the source. Stop the worry. End the mystery, the fear.

  “Well, maybe I could. You in your old boss’ good graces? Could you put in a good word for me?”

  She tipped her head to the side with a nod. That? She could do. “Yeah. Probably.”

  Her phone rang. Sherriff Karl’s name popped up on the screen. She answered, still in a numb buzz. “Whiskey.”

  “Get home.
Now.” Karl’s voice was filled with worry. “The Eastwoods are on the move to Texas.”

  Sneak Peek at Barrel of Whiskey

  The car shifted hard to the left.

  Paige jerked awake, her hands out. She grasped the dashboard of the 1970 Dodge Challenger. Empty blacktop road. No potholes.

  The car careened toward the ditch again.

  Dexx growled low. His normally sharp features flickered in and out of focus. His nails elongated as he gripped the steering wheel.

  He was fucking starting to shift. Fuck!

  “Don’t hurt Jackie,” Paige shouted. Jackie was the car, the one thing on this world Dexx loved more than anything.

  “Trying not to,” he ground out. His teeth grew, two long fangs protruding from his upper lip.

  “I thought you said you had this under control.” He was a newly turned shapeshifter and his inner animal was a saber-toothed tiger. Sorry. Saber-toothed cat.

  “I did.”

  Biggest damned cat in the known animal kingdom. At least, as far she knew. “Pull over!”

  “I’m trying!”

  Dexx stopped Jackie on the narrow gravel shoulder. He opened the door, and fell out. A long, low growl issued from him.

  Dirt settled around the car, but he hadn’t gotten far enough off the highway to be safe. Long, two-lane highway like this, people stopped paying attention. Easy drive. Easy to do other things. Easy to nod off. She slid over and pulled Jackie almost into the ditch, then cut off Jackie’s rumbling engine.

  At least they weren’t dead.

  By the time she got out of the car, he was gone, a long tail disappearing over a hill. His clothes were everywhere.

  Shit. Where were they?

  The highway stretched into the far forever. Trees, brown grass, and rolling hills. Well, that and barbed wire fences.

  Could still be Colorado. Could be Texas.

  She stretched her kinked back.

  Dexx needed more time in Nederland with the other shifters to help him with his spirit animal.

  Unfortunately, they hadn’t had the time.

  The Eastwood witches were on their way to Texas. Her home. Where her family lived, not knowing that war was about to knock on their front door.

  Paige didn’t know if the Eastwoods were driving. Did they have to fly commercial? Did they have their own jet? How many of them were coming? How big was their coven? What would this war look like? A couple of women bitching at one another, threatening to set each other’s hair on fire?

 

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