Minions and Magic: Accidental Witches Book 5

by Dunbar, Debra

  “I just wanted to talk to you about the barbeque this weekend,” I began as we made our way into the alpha house. “First, what sort of desserts are your favorite? I want to put a special something together for each alpha to honor the peace between the packs.”

  Clinton looked a bit flustered. “Well…since you’re asking, I really like cakes. Growing up, my Ma would bake cakes for pack functions, and she always made a little one just for me. I was too young to attend back then, and having that cake made me feel included. It made me feel like I was part of the pack, one of the grown-ups. Plus, having my own personal cake…it made me special. Loved.”

  I smiled, thinking how many of our favorite foods were tied up in childhood memories, like my pinwheels.

  “Is any particular cake your favorite?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Ma made all kinds. She had a big book of recipes that had been in her family for ages. I should ask Tink to get it to me. Hoping someday I can make a few of those for my pups, although I’m nowhere near the baker my Ma was.”

  My mind was already thinking of possibilities, but there were a couple of other things I needed to talk to Clinton about before I got going.

  “I also wanted to let you know that there is going to be a contest. A…a demon and I are competing for who makes the best brisket, and you, your father, and Tink are the judges.”

  His eyes gleamed. “I love brisket. Looking forward to that one.”

  “Great!” Now for the difficult topic. “And last of all, Shelby and Stanley will be coming to the barbeque since it’s a community-wide event and held on the land granted as public to all werewolves. I’d like to ask you and your father to make a special effort to welcome them, to be seen chatting with them a few times while they’re in attendance. It would go a long way toward showing the other werewolves that you and Dallas really are including lone wolves in this new treaty. It’s sort of a lead-by-example thing.”

  I was nowhere near as good at this sort of negotiation as Sylvie was, and that was made clear by the way Clinton’s muscles all seemed to stiffen.

  “Ain’t gonna say anything nasty or throw them out but asking me to welcome them is a bit much.”

  “No, it’s not.” Here’s where I put my foot down as a witch of Accident. “You’re an alpha, Clinton. It’s up to you to set an example and do things you don’t want to do for the good of the pack.”

  A muscle in his jaw worked a bit and he glared at me. “Fine. I’ll welcome them both. Maybe I’ll even stop and say a few words to them, but I’m not being all buddy-buddy with either one. Shelby tried to kill me, and Stanley’s a traitor.”

  “And if you and your pack want to remain in Accident, you need to put that behind you and act like an alpha.”

  Those were harsh words, and completely out of character for me. I had no idea why I was suddenly channeling Cassie. Maybe the fight with Xavier yesterday had me feeling more prickly than usual. Either way it worked. Clinton swallowed a few times and agreed to at least treat Stanley and Shelby as he would any other werewolf. I left feeling as if I’d actually accomplished something besides cooking and headed the other way up the mountain to my next stop.

  Dallas wasn’t at my meeting, but Tink was. I assumed since their mating ceremony that she spoke for him as the female alpha of the pack, and that this was how they’d decided to divide their duties. I quickly learned that Dallas was a pie werewolf who would truly love the sour cherry pie I’d brought, and that Tink was especially fond of those box-of-chocolates sweets from the human world—especially the ones with cream fillings.

  I reversed the order of my topics a bit and broached the issue of Shelby and Stanley next. Tink waved it all away, promising me she’d take care of it and make sure Dallas was more than polite. Relieved that had gone well, I told her about the contest with the brisket.

  She squealed and did a little dance. “That is fun! And I get to be the swing vote! Of course you’ll win, but it’s still a great idea. Brisket. Yum. So, who’s this demon challenging Glenda the More-Than-Good? Guy is either an idiot or he’s a pretty darned good cook himself. I’m hoping for the latter since I’ve got to actually eat this brisket of his.”

  “I’ve had his food. He’s good.” The words were said between clenched teeth. He was good. And for the first time in my life I was scared someone might be better than me. It wasn’t just about my soul, it was the thought that a talent I held nearly sacred, one that set me apart from everyone else, might not be the best. Screw my magic, what I truly felt pride in was my cooking. It was what I lived for.

  When had that happened? I’d always loved culinary arts, but I’d never used to pin my entire existence on it.

  Tink gave me a hard look. “Thinking you’ve had more than his food. Tell me about this guy, Glenda, ‘cause it seems like there’s a story here.”

  I’d never been that close to Tink. Actually I hadn’t even known exactly who she was until a few months ago, but somehow I found myself spilling my guts to her. I told her all about the engagement party where I’d first met Xavier. I told her about the two idyllic days we’d spent cooking and flirting and enjoying each other’s company. I told her, without an indecent amount of detail, about the sex. And then I told her about the gnomes and Xavier’s betrayal, and how I was now trapped into a contest with a demon I felt might just take my soul.

  Tink nodded. “You want me to be impartial, or to vote for you? ‘Cause if you need my vote, you got it.”

  “No. I need to win this fair. I’m the one that suggested this contest. If I can’t win it on my own merits, then I didn’t really win. He’ll know that, and more than that, I’ll know that.”

  The werewolf nodded. “Okay, but if you need me, Glenda, then you got me. You got the pack. Things are gonna be different now that I’m mated to Dallas. We’re part of Accident. We might choose to live on our own, and keep to our traditions in some ways, but we’re part of this community. We’ll be there for you witches, just as we’ll be there for any other group in Accident.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Dallas is on board with this?”

  Tink grinned. “Partially. Give me another month or two, and he’ll be there.”

  Werewolves. Sheesh.

  “Thanks Tink,” I told her. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

  “I’ll see you on Saturday,” she replied, and somehow it sounded more like a vow of comradery than just a simple goodbye.

  Chapter 17

  Glenda

  On the way back I ran by Petunia’s to check on Stanley, using the excuse that I needed to buy beer. Petunia’s only sold beer, bait, and car parts as well as performing car repair. My van was in working order, and I didn’t fish, so beer it was.

  I parked and wove my way past the cars and trucks waiting to be repaired as well as those owned by the people buying bait and/or beer. Inside there were two goblins arguing about mealworms, a banshee looking through a book of car parts muttering something about brake pads for an ’09 Malibu, and a gargoyle pulling a six-pack of Coors Light out of the cooler. A pixie flitted over top of Petunia’s head as the boar shifter replaced the battery cables on an old pick-up truck. Two legs stuck out from under the front of a Mazda Miata, and for a second I had a flashback to last Saturday night.

  Stanley wheeled out from under the Miata. “Hey, Petunia? We got a head gasket for this thing?”

  “Trapper, go in the back and grab Stanley a J9691P5. Third row, fifth section, second shelf from the bottom,” Petunia told the pixie.

  Trapper disappeared in a flash of light and a rain of glitter. The boar shifter cursed, and ran a hand over his head, brushing the glitter to the ground.

  “Leaving money for this beer on the counter, Petunia,” the gargoyle called out, waving a fist full of bills.

  I went over to the cooler and surveyed the beer options. Domestic. Craft. Guinness.

  “Hey, Glenda!” Trapper buzzed by me with something that looked like a metal modern art sculpture encased in vacuum-sealed plas
tic.

  Stanley snatched the part as the pixie dropped it mid-flight, then grinned over at me. “Getting some beer, Glenda?”

  I nodded, randomly pulling a six pack out of the cooler. “Ring me up, Stanley? I’ve only got a twenty.”

  He set the car part down and came over to the cash register, scooping up the money the gargoyle had left behind and putting it in the drawer before ringing me up.

  “Things okay, Stanley?” I asked in a soft voice as I handed him my twenty.

  “Yeah.” He grinned at me. “No more notes or threats or anything. Probably because of the wards around my house, and the deputies driving by, and Cassie occasionally standing outside like she’s going to set the world on fire if anyone so much as lets their dog poop on my yard.”

  “Good.” I took my change and stuffed it into my purse. “I spoke with Tink and Clinton, and they promised to support you and Shelby on Saturday.”

  Stanley gripped the counter tightly. “Might not stay too long, Glenda. Even if Dallas and Clinton are okay, I still know a lot of the others aren’t gonna be friendly. And Bart…I made him promise not to come. I don’t want to jeopardize his position in the pack.”

  I picked up my beer. “Thanks, Stanley. Even if you just stay twenty minutes, it will help. I truly think Accident needs to become a place where lone wolves can be welcome, and as difficult as this is, you and Shelby are blazing the trail.”

  His smile was sad. “I never wanted to blaze trails, I just wanted to live my life. But if this is the path I’m on, then I’m gonna walk it like a wolf.”

  I left feeling deflated, even though just ten minutes ago I’d been flying high. Everything would eventually work out for the werewolves and Accident. I might not have Ophelia’s divination talent, but I clearly saw where the future of our town was heading. Still, I hated that this change was causing so much pain. Everyone felt the aches of this transformation, but Stanley and Shelby, and even Alberta, were feeling it in spades.

  My mood dived even further downward as I saw who was standing beside my van.

  Xavier took a step to the side and held his hands up. “Before you chew me out, this is a public place. You don’t have a restraining order out against me, and I have every right to be here.”

  “So are you here to buy beer, bait, or car parts?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to approach close enough to get into my car or stay where I was.

  He eyed the beer in my hand. “Is that your secret ingredient in your brisket marinade?”

  I couldn’t help it. He’d seriously damaged my career and acted as if it wasn’t a big deal. He’d excused his actions with “I’m a demon. It’s what I do”. I couldn’t trust him. I shouldn’t even speak to him. But my heart beat faster as I saw him by my car and warmth settled down low in my abdomen at the sound of his voice.

  Beer. He’d said something about the beer. I glanced down at the six pack of Guinness. “I’m not telling you anything about my brisket recipe. Now move so I can get into my car.”

  “I’m not hindering you from getting into your car.” He took another step to the side. “How about we work together on our brisket preparations? I’ll even make you lunch. And dinner. And bring wine. I’ve got quite a nice wine cellar, I’ll have you know.”

  I missed him. I missed this. I missed the banter, the companionship. But he’d betrayed me and I couldn’t let that go. How many relationships had I turned a blind eye to the red flags? I needed to learn from the past and realize that Xavier was demon and he’d never change, no matter how charming I found him.

  “Afraid you’re going to lose?” I took a few steps forward and unlocked the car. “You want to work with me so you can steal my ideas? Xavier, even if I wrote down exactly what I was doing and you copied it exactly, you still wouldn’t beat me. This is my talent. Food is everything to me.”

  “Everything?” He stepped forward and took the beer from my hand, putting it into the back seat of the van. “That’s sad, Glenda. You’re so much more than your cooking, no matter how amazing it is. I’m not trying to copy your recipes, I just want to spend time with you.”

  I yanked opened up the driver’s door, which put me far too close to the demon. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t forgive what you did. The one thing that matters to me…. How could you do that after the time we’d spent together? How could you?”

  He stepped into me, inches from my body, his breath fanning my face. “I’m the same demon you met at Benjamin Frederick Allen’s party last week. I’m the same demon who helped you cook slugs and turnips, who made love to you six times. Glenda, you can’t ask me to change who I am, just as I can’t ask you to change who you are.”

  I clenched my jaw, blinking back tears and turning away so Xavier didn’t see them. He had a point. He had a very valid point. “I’m not asking you to change, Xavier. I just…I just didn’t think about who you were when I got into this…thing we had together. It was amazing, and I honestly wish things were different, but I can’t see myself having anything long-term with someone who can do what you did and not even feel remorse about it. I can’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything, I just got caught up in the moment and didn’t stop to think about how incompatible we are.”

  I climbed into the car, shutting the door before he could reach out to me.

  “We’re not incompatible, Glenda!” he shouted.

  I choked back a sob, started my car, and backed out of the parking lot, refusing to look at Xavier, refusing to listen to what he was shouting.

  We were incompatible. And I wasn’t going to give a second chance to someone who’d hurt me so badly. I’d done that before and spent two weeks face-down in a gallon of Rocky Road ice cream when that relationship had gone down in flames.

  I wouldn’t suffer that sort of hurt again. Never again.

  Chapter 18

  Glenda

  Once home I surveyed my kitchen and wrote down everything I wanted to make for the barbeque, deciding what I could prep ahead of time, what needed to be done the night before, and what should be finished right before the barbeque started. Most of the dishes I was preparing would be done tomorrow, but there was a lot of prep work I could do now, including the dry rub for the brisket.

  As I chopped vegetables, marinated chicken, and put some meat in the smoker for pulled pork, I kept thinking of Xavier.

  He’d come to see me. He’d tracked me down and waited outside Petunia’s to talk to me. Even though I’d accused him of wanting to spy on my brisket recipe, I knew that wasn’t why he had wanted to come over. He missed me. I missed him. We would have such fun cooking together, trying to hide what we were doing as we put together our dry rub ingredients, as we chose what specific pieces of meat we would use for the contest versus the ones that would be served to the other attendees. We’d laugh. We’d flirt. We’d make love.

  I wanted to forgive him, to give him another chance—give us another chance. I’d do just that, but there needed to be boundaries. It bothered me that he hadn’t even apologized for what he’d done. He didn’t seem to see that there was anything wrong with it at all. I couldn’t be with someone who would hurt me and then shrug it off as being a demon. Bronwyn, Ophelia, and Sylvie wouldn’t put up with that. Cassie most definitely wouldn’t put up with that. She’d given her old boyfriend Marcus dozens of second chances, but as a panther shifter he could never be physically faithful to my sister no matter how much he loved her. Cassie finally ended the relationship. She couldn’t be with someone who wasn’t faithful, and Marcus couldn’t change.

  Even if Xavier promised, would he be able to change? I couldn’t build a loving relationship unless he did change, and so far he’d shown no signs of even being willing to entertain the idea.

  I’d need to accept him for who he was or walk away. And it was killing me to walk away.

  Trying to keep my mind off Xavier, I got to work on the desserts.

  Every werewolf would be enthusiastic about any meat dish I prepared, and I was also sup
plying enough vegetable and grain-based foods to cover the broad tastes of the other Accident residents who would be in attendance. But desserts…those were special. Each werewolf had their favorites, and in keeping with the theme of peace and togetherness, I was determined to provide a sweet that would satisfy each alpha.

  Tink had said that Dallas loved pies. Since he was a bit of a traditionalist, I decided to make an apple pie in his honor. I had a dozen incredible recipes, though, and spent hours poring over them, trying to decide which one would wow the womanizing and fierce werewolf. Finally I decided to make two kinds. One would have a buttery, flaky crust and ribbons of caramel sweetening up tart apples. The other would use equally tart apples, but I’d make the crust with some extra sharp cheddar. And just because I was in an apple mood, I hauled three bushels of Golden Delicious apples from the cellar and made applesauce. These apples were a bit watery, but sweet enough that no added sugar was needed. Just a dash of grated cinnamon and a hint of vanilla extract, and the crock of applesauce went into the walk-in fridge.

  The sun had set long ago, but I kept working, knowing that if I went to bed I’d only stare at the ceiling for hours thinking of Xavier. Checking on the pork loins in the smoker, I put the applesauce in the fridge, and moved the pies to a rack to cool.

  Time to make a cake. Clinton was more modern in his tastes than his father, but he appreciated tradition and in some ways was just as nostalgic. I looked over my recipes, discarding the ones for chocolate fudge with a bittersweet ganache and my favorite old-fashioned carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. Finally I settled on a red velvet cake recipe that had been in my family for three generations, and one I knew Clinton loved—Smith Island Cake.

  By the time I finished, it was only a few hours until dawn. I debated the merits of getting a bit of sleep or continuing on. The pork loin needed at least three more hours in the smoker, the cakes were cooling on dozens of racks. I’d made the icing for both and had it in the fridge. Deciding I was too wired up to sleep, I peeled and put ten pounds of potatoes on to boil, then pulled the shredded cabbage out of the fridge and went ahead and made the coleslaw. That done, I rinsed the cooked potato cubes and set them aside to cool.