by Lynn Cahoon
* * * *
As she sat on the leather seat, Parris wondered exactly how much the black sedan had set the lawyer back, questioning if she could afford to hire Ty. He must make more in a week than Parris cleared from the bar in a month, maybe even a year. She’d have to work harder. Going cheap with Grans’ house on the line wasn’t an option. He might say no, anyway.
“You like classical?” Ty’s voice startled her. She’d been focused on the car’s trappings she hadn’t even noticed he’d entered the driver’s side door.
“Whatever. I’m not picky with music. After you hear Walk the Line sixty times a night, diversity in music choice is a good thing.” Parris slid the seatbelt over her chest, clicking the latch shut.
“You need a better jukebox.” Ty pulled the car out of the parking spot, speeding up the ramps.
Grasping the door handle, Parris watched the path in front of them. She couldn’t believe he drove like this. What if someone darted between parked cars or backed up? She took in a calming breath.
“You okay?” Now, Ty watched her.
“Watch the road and slow down.” Parris caught a glimpse of a family at a stairwell door. She threw a mental command at them, stay there, stay there. The car zoomed past the family without the parents’ faces even registering a flicker of concern.
“I’m a good driver. Never been in an accident.”
Parris found that impossible to believe as fast as he drove, although he didn’t seem to be lying. “Sorry, I’m not used to cars. I take the bus or train everywhere I can. Not counting today, I haven’t even started my bug since I last visited Grans.”
He swung the car onto a busy city street. Slowing to a speed where Parris didn’t feel like she was on a dirt track. He smiled over at her, “Sorry. I’ll be gentle.”
“Thanks.” Parris kept her gaze on the road in front of them. She hadn’t told him where her grandmother lived yet Ty, so far, drove like he’d been there many times.
“Tell me about the crazy customers you get at the bar.”
Parris frowned at the wording. “I don’t have crazy customers. I said people tend to choose the same song, over and over. One person will select a song early in the day, later someone else will pick the same song. The pattern repeats all night.”
“Wouldn’t seem to be uncommon considering radio stations only play the current hits, over and over?” Ty pulled the car onto the freeway entrance. “Your grandmother lives in Troy, right?”
“How did you know?” Parris shot Ty a glance.
“You told me last night.” Ty mumbled, focusing on merging traffic.
Parris faltered, she’d never said where Grans lived. Parris ran through the conversation, when she got to the kiss, her face heated and she knew she’d turned beet red. “I didn’t think I did.”
“Then how would I know,” Ty answered, sounding oh, so, reasonable.
And that’s the question. Parris watched the world pass the window, wondering what she’d done by asking Ty’s for help. She’d believed she’d have the upper hand. Especially after the impromptu kiss. Controlling men was easy. They wanted one thing. Dangle the possibility and men did her bidding. Parris got the feeling Ty was different. The difference made Parris unsure of her power.
“You’re quiet.” Ty’s voice broke her thoughts.
“Just watching the fields fly by. I love the city. Driving to Grans, something resonates inside with the natural repetition of the fields, the cycle of life. I’m in awe of the work of farmers. Something I never think of while eating my dinner salad.”
“Or the ribeye?” Ty nodded, turning the music down. “When you think of where your food comes from, it gives you a whole new perspective of the agricultural life.”
Not an opinion she would have expected. This guy kept surprising her. The exit was fast approaching. “Take this exit, then it’s an immediate right. Grans’s subdivision is three streets down.”
“She takes living at the edge of town seriously.” Ty looked around the farms still bordering the freeway. “How big is this subdivision?”
“Ten houses. Once a developer planned an extension, the new home market tanked right after he started. The cornfield behind her house stayed undeveloped.” Parris hated the slimy guy who came to notify the neighborhood about the new development.
Grans had seen her anger and after serving the man tea and cookies, she’d pulled Parris aside. “You have to learn to pick your battles.”
“All he wants is to make money. I can feel the greed roll off him. He doesn’t want to build beautiful homes like he said.” Parris explained her feeling to her grandmother.
“Don’t worry, dear. Karma has a way of catching up with everyone.” Humming a tune, her grandmother cleared the tea set from the coffee table. Two weeks later, Parris was reading the newspaper for her civics class when she saw the man’s picture. His construction company filed bankruptcy. The ownership of the cornfield behind the houses stayed undetermined.
Ten years later, still no one had developed the field.
Ty turned the Mercedes onto Hunt Road, stopping the car in front of Grans’s house. He frowned slightly at the house, painted a deep purple with yellow trim. “I take it we’re here?”
Parris almost asked him how he knew, but she saw the name on the yellow mailbox. MCCALL printed in purple matching the house. Duh.
“Welcome to Casa McCall.” Parris put her hand on his arm. “Just promise me you’ll be nice. Grans can be a tad overbearing at times.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior.” Ty smiled. “Even if she tries to get us to set a date.”
“Set what date?”
“Our wedding. You did say she fancied herself to be a match maker?”
Chapter 3
The plastic on the sofa creaked as he leaned back, trying to appear relaxed. Every piece of upholstered furniture was covered in plastic. Except the window seat with a view of the back yard garden, no plastic there. The red plush cushion was covered in cats. Ten cats if he counted right. All ten stood at attention on the window seat, watching him. He felt like a robin unlucky enough to land in the oak tree outside the window.
“Now where did you say you met Parris?” Matilda Rose McCall asked, with a touch of a southern accent.
“I beat her in a dart game.” Ty grinned, shrugging off the feeling the cats gave him. A frown crossed Parris’ face, clouding her green eyes.
“Interesting.” Matilda’s gaze flicked to her granddaughter. “Parris doesn’t lose often. You must be a skilled player.”
Something in Matilda’s tone made him focus. As if she referenced something more than darts. “Maybe I got lucky.”
A snort came from the other side of the couch. “Lucky, my butt. Sally knew she’d brought in a ringer. I fell for her unknown rating substitute ploy.”
Ty smiled. Parris still hadn’t forgiven him for beating her. “Your team won the match. You should be happy.”
“I never lose my singles game.”
“And now you have.” Ty reached over, patting her hand. “Get over it.”
Parris jerked away. Ty thought she was considering punching him when Matilda’s voice stopped her.
“Now, children, play nice.”
Ty watched Parris grit her teeth. He wondered what she didn’t say.
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, matching Matilda’s southern drawl.
She cocked her head, focusing her gaze back on him. “Now, Ty, you aren’t making fun of an old lady now, are you?”
“Never. Your accent is taking me back to my years in New Orleans. I did my undergraduate work there.”
“Interesting place, New Orleans.”
“Yes, ma’am. I learned a lot about people’s motives living down near the swamp.” Ty watched Matilda for some sign she knew about the other school there. The training program The Council ran for their hunters.
“Which must help you in your law practice,” Parris said, smiling sweetly. “Being around those alligators. What’s the pu
nch line from the old joke about five hundred lawyers at the bottom of a swamp?”
“You mean ‘a good start’?” he shot back.
“Here we go again. You two sure are prickly with each other.” Matilda shook her head. “Parris, why don’t you go brew us some tea. My orange mix I believe will be quite nice today.”
Ty waited for Parris to leave the room before he turned his gaze on Matilda. “Are we talking now? Or do you want to keep playing twenty questions?”
“I have a lot more than twenty questions to ask you. Why are you here?” The old woman’s light blue eyes sparked.
“Your granddaughter hired me to keep you from losing your home.” Ty sat forward, thrumming his finger tips on the walnut coffee table.
“Posh. I’m dealing with the problem.” Matilda leaned forward in her chair, the knitting she’d been doing since their arrival pushed aside.
“I can tell you’re doing a fabulous job of handling the matter.” Ty said, dryly.
“Well, until something slipped. You know how it is with a house of cards. Boom.” Matilda frowned. “I’m sure I’ll be able to cast a new glamour with no problem at all. I only need to find the person I missed last time around.”
“You admit you’re a witch.”
“I never denied being a witch.” Matilda glanced at the doorway to the kitchen. She lowered her voice. “Parris doesn’t know.”
“What do you mean? She’s gifted too.” Ty felt confused. Had Matilda glamoured her granddaughter to ignore her own powers? He’d walked into backward land and today was tomorrow.
“Hunter, are you here to take Parris to The Council?”
Matilda’s cold tone put him on the defensive. “She needs to be tested. Registered.”
“She’s not high enough to matter. I tested when I was her age. I didn’t reach any higher than a five on The Council’s scale. Parris isn’t close to being at my strength.” Matilda called to one of the cats who’d left his perch on the window seat to watch Ty from a better angle.
“That’s not your decision to make. She should have been tested at sixteen. How’d she miss the calling?” Ty focused on Matilda, ignoring the cat sitting on her lap, staring at him. “And why aren’t you registered?”
“Are you deaf?” Matilda ran her withered hand down the cat’s black fur. “I told you, I’m level five. You have to be higher than a three to be registered. We lower scores are disposable, forgotten.”
Ty knew Matilda was lying to him. Not constantly, and not enough so he could crack her pattern. Lying just the same. The thought screamed at him. She was protecting Parris.
He leaned back, relaxing his posture. Matilda reminded him of a Chinese puzzle boxes. At level five, there would be no way she should be able to recognize his hunter role on the spot. She’d marked him as he’d walked through the door. That’s why the cats focused on him as well. She knew. “You didn’t answer my question. Why wasn’t she tested?”
Matilda glanced again at the doorway. “To be tested, you have to know who you are.”
The woman’s words startled Ty. “You mean, she doesn’t know?”
Matilda shook her head. “After her folks died in the crash, I felt certain The Council’s hands were on the accident. Her mother, Sarah, tested a three and still The Council turned her away. Told her she didn’t have anything special. Almost broke her heart.”
Ty swore under his breath. The Council was elitist. He’d seen them turn away many a hopeful. “So if she’d been written off the books, why did you think The Council hunted them?”
“For Parris, of course.” Matilda looked at him like he was a complete idiot. “Sarah married a first blood.”
And the couple produced Parris. Now his feelings made sense. Ty hadn’t seen a first blood in years, except on The Council. They were a rare occurrence these days. A first blood radiated power, so much that The Council arranged their marriages mostly to humans. Mating a witch with a first blood would produce a powerful offspring. An undocumented offspring under The Council’s radar would result in a hunter being assigned. A hunter like him. “But after your daughter died, The Council would have taken Parris.”
“Everyone thought she died in the crash.” Matilda hung her head.
Hiding Parris in plain sight was a feat worthy of a level two witch. Ty didn’t even want to guess what Matilda had gone through to achieve that trick. He leaned forward, trying to read Matilda’s face. “You realize I represent The Council.”
“Please, you can’t take her…” Matilda’s face got dark. “She’d never survive.”
“Who’d never survive Grans?” Parris appeared with a porcelain tea service and a plate filled with shortbread cookies on a tray. “You’re not telling him about the cat rescue program are you? I’m sure Ty doesn’t have room in his fancy condo for a rescue kitten.”
Ty smiled, flashing Matilda a look promising a continuation of the conversation later. “Strict condo rules. No stray cats allowed. Now, if I pay a few thousand for an animal with papers delineating their bloodline, that’s a different story. Condo management doesn’t like riff-raff. Either in human or animal form.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t want to mix with the masses.” Parris sat the tray down on the coffee table.
“Exactly.” He looked at Matilda. “Keeping the bloodline pure brings the best in pets.”
“Grans doesn’t believe in pedigree breeding. Too many abandoned pets running loose needing good families.” Parris poured the tea, handing a cup to her grandmother, following suit with Ty. “How’d we get on this subject anyway? Tell him about the tax problem. The man charges hourly.”
Matilda walked to her desk. She grabbed the thick manila folder, shoving it at Ty. “These are the letter’s I’ve received over the years from the irrigation people.”
Ty flipped through the file. Each letter gave a first warning. Then there would be a gap, sometimes years. The last five, were dated two months apart. “It looks like you’ve been busy.”
Matilda blushed. Shooting a quick glance at Parris, she grinned. “I thought I’d handled it.”
“Handled it? Gran, you ignored the problem. Wishing it away.” Parris took a sip of tea. “I told you the letters wouldn’t stop. I wonder why the city took so long to take the next step.”
Ty knew. Each of the older letters carried a faint energy. A memory spell cast over the letter’s writer. A spell no level five witch should be strong enough or know enough to produce. Matilda Rose McCall had power at level three if not a level two. She’d fooled The Council testers. He glanced into the elderly woman’s eyes. For a moment, he glimpsed the core of the powerful witch. Immediately the shades went down. Parris’ grandmother sat in front of him again. She was good.
A slight grin slipped onto Matilda’s face. “Parris always told me I’d get myself into a jam with this someday.” She sipped her tea. “Are you my white knight, Mr. Wallace? Or are you with the palace guard, here to arrest me?”
Parris laughed. “What a strange thing to say. He’s a lawyer. He’s bound by client privilege. I’m sure even if Ty decides not to help he’s not going to side with the enemy.”
Ty’s gaze didn’t leave Matilda’s face answering. “She’s right. As your lawyer, I’m required to keep your secrets.”
Matilda smiled. “But dear, you don’t know all my secrets.” She held the plate toward him. “Cookie? I made them this morning. I suspected I might be having company today.”
Chapter 4
Parris found herself back in the Mercedes flying up the road toward the small town office. She replayed the meeting between her grandmother and Ty. The two strangers had a serious and private conversation while she was busy with the tea. Something besides the tax problem. She’d felt the energy in the room. What would these two have to talk about?
Ty Wallace was a mystery. A tall, cool, glass of water on the outside yet something dark and deep on the inside. Something Parris itched to uncover.
“Your grandmother is quite the charmer.�
� Ty’s warm voice broke her thoughts.
“You’re the charmer. I’ve never seen her respond so warmly to a stranger. Grans doesn’t trust a lot of people.” Parris turned her head toward the window.
“Why?” Ty prodded.
“After my folks died, she clammed shut. I didn’t leave the house for over a month. All the mirrors got covered with black cloth.” Parris shook her head at the memory. “She was heart broke.”
“She kept you locked up?”
“No. I didn’t mean that. She didn’t want me to leave her side. I guess she’s superstitious.” Parris watched the farm land change to business developments as the car sped toward town. “She homeschooled me for a year. After I went back to school, I became Parris McCall. New start, new name my Gran said.”
“What was your old name?” Ty’s voice sounded casual, uninterested.
Parris frowned. Her name had been on the tip of her tongue. Now, she couldn’t remember it for the life of her. “That’s funny.”
Ty watched her. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t remember. Totally slipped my memory.” Parris shook her head. “It’ll come to me. Probably come to me right before I fall asleep.”
“Maybe I should tuck you in tonight then.” Ty growled, his voice deep, husky.
“Hey, you walked away last night.” Parris ran her hand up his thigh, the silk suit tingling her fingers. “A girl can only handle so much rejection.”
Ty groaned. “Keep playing and we’ll be getting a motel rather than going to the courthouse.”
Parris smiled brightly. “In your dreams, big guy. I’m not paying you your fat hourly fee to bed me.”
“How do you know what fee I charge?” Ty kept his eyes focused on the road.
“Seriously? Your suit feels like it cost more than my car. We are riding in a vehicle priced more than a house in a good, bordering great neighborhood.” Parris shook her head. “Now tell me you only make an average wage.”
“Maybe I come from money.” Ty answered, a slight grin on his face. “A trust fund baby.”
