by Lucy True
Burgundy nodded wordlessly until Charlotte circled her hand, prompting her to respond. “Yes, I know you’re right.”
“Good.” Charlotte gave her shoulder a squeeze and said, “I’ll see myself out. Lock the door behind me and enjoy your day off tomorrow.”
“I’m not sure I can do that, knowing there’s a warlock out there trying to off an entire town through love arrows. That’s some kooky shit.”
Charlotte chuckled. “Good point,” she conceded. “Then do me a favor and come to the diner for lunch tomorrow. Sit down, relax, and have your favorite sandwich.”
Burgundy let out a low “mmm” of approval. There was nothing like the diner’s juicy patty melt to fill her stomach with a warm meal and make her taste buds happy. “Tomorrow, then,” she agreed.
After she saw Charlotte safely closed in her car, Burgundy shut and locked the front door. She cleaned up the living room, turned off the lights, and ran upstairs to her bedroom. As expected, Arthur was already curled into a tight, scaly ball on her bed, snoozing.
When she was ready for bed, Burgundy settled down on it and set her laptop in front of her. Even with a tidy desk across the room, she preferred the cushy comfort of the bed tonight. It’d been one of those days.
She opened the laptop and checked her email, hoping for something – anything – from her aunt. Iris didn’t exactly embrace technology. No matter how many times Burgundy offered to get her a cell phone on her mobile plan, Iris refused. The PC her aunt kept downstairs must have been a good ten years old by now, maybe even older.
But she knew the woman was capable of emailing damn it, so why wasn’t she responding?
“Where do they go – some place with no technology, like an Amish community?” Burgundy muttered to herself.
Another day gone by without a word from her aunt, another day closer to answers, yet so far from anything remotely resembling a solution. Burgundy gave up, set the closed laptop on her desk, and burrowed under the blankets, pulling them all the way up to her head.
“I’ll Scarlett O’Hara it and say tomorrow is another day,” she grumbled to herself and closed her eyes.
At least she had the assurance of Charlotte’s friendship, as always. And maybe, just maybe, a little something more in the future.
Chapter Seventeen
The promise of a patty melt had Burgundy out of bed earlier than usual for a Sunday. She ate her cereal and then completed all the tasks expected of her by Aunt Iris. Even though she’d never had a particular affinity for witchcraft, Burgundy enjoyed everything about it. The stillroom was an interesting place with its various potions and herbs hanging from the ceiling. Her aunt’s office was full of books about herbs, magickal theory, nature, theology, and many other topics.
As a child, Burgundy had poked about both rooms and Iris encouraged her explorations. Now that she was an adult, she was supposed to have declared a magickal path. A witch would spend her entire life studying and practicing in one specific field, while dabbling in others. It was much like choosing a major in college. Unfortunately, there was no path for “all the things,” which was what Burgundy would have liked.
Even though she admired her aunt’s work with potions and practical magick, choosing just one way seemed far too narrow-minded. It left so much else out of the equation, out of what could be experienced in their lives.
Once she’d made up for the six years missed by going to college, Burgundy would have to choose a path and stick with. Otherwise, she could have chosen a path on her twenty-first birthday. That ship had sailed, which meant her twenty-seventh birthday next May was the absolute deadline for declaring her choice before the Witches Council. She didn’t know what the consequences of not doing that were, but she hadn’t summoned the courage to ask Iris.
She mentioned these thoughts to Charlotte when she arrived at the diner. Her friend’s brow furrowed as she asked, “And you never thought to ask Iris these questions?”
Burgundy combed her fingers through her hair and shook her head. “Not when the subject of choosing a path came up, no. I always thought I’d figure out my witch path pretty easily, until I realized I wanted to be a librarian. But now I’m starting to think I’m not suited to any of the paths.”
“That could be frustration talking. You’ve had a heck of a crazy two weeks.” Charlotte tipped her head toward the dining room. “Have a seat and I’ll get your patty melt ordered. Do you want it with fries and a soda?”
“Always. Thanks.” Burgundy turned and walked into the dining room, shedding her coat when she selected a table. She settled into her chair with a small sound of contentment. There were fewer customers there today, which Burgundy thought odd. Then again, if everyone was in love, they might be home doing...
She grimaced at the idea. So many of these people simply did not belong together. Thinking of Chief Brandon and Martha getting horizontal was almost enough to kill her voracious appetite. Although, if they were spending intimate time together, it also meant they were less likely to get into trouble. That was the one consoling thought she could draw from the idea.
“Mind if I join you?”
Burgundy looked up as the unwelcome voice intruded on her thoughts. “Speaking of an appetite killer,” she grumbled as her eyes met Jenna’s icy gaze. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to enjoy my day.”
“Look, I didn’t come here to...” Jenna let out a heavy sigh and then said, “I know I came off as a real bitch yesterday and I’d like to talk about that. It was a mistake not discussing our relationship first and getting things resolved between us, before asking you for a favor. I shouldn’t have been so callous.”
“Oh, you mean it was a mistake to not get me on your side before pumping me for information, probably to further your own career?”
The grimace on Jenna’s face as her grip tightened over the back of the chair was reward enough for Burgundy. “Why do you have to believe the worst of people?” Jenna asked.
“Let’s see – I’ll take experience for two hundred, Alex.”
Jenna rubbed her forehead and, again, Burgundy enjoyed seeing her frustration. In a way, she felt a little guilty. Their relationship had seen its share of lovely moments, like the time they decorated a Yule log and then had homemade cocoa while snuggling in front of a roaring fire.
But when Charlotte came around the corner, carrying a tray, Burgundy thought of another wonderful winter moment. There was nothing better than the heavy snowfall two years ago that had she and Charlotte flinging snowballs at each other like children. After that, they’d taken their frozen, drenched selves into the house for hot Irish coffee, pastries, and a holiday movie marathon.
That, Burgundy realized, was what she wanted in a relationship. Not the untouchable princess of a woman standing in front of her. The spark was there, so... so why not Charlotte?
Because you’re still on the rebound and the woman who dumped you two weeks ago is standing right here. So deal with what’s right in front of your face.
It took effort to drag her focus back to the blonde demanding her attention. “We can talk,” she agreed, as Charlotte served her soda and gave her the side-eye. “Do you want to order something for lunch?”
Jenna pulled out the chair and glanced at Charlotte. “I’d like the chef’s salad, please.”
“Dressing?” Charlotte asked, tucking the tray beneath her arm.
“Low-calorie Italian.”
“Drink?”
“Water.”
Charlotte nodded and returned to the kitchen. Jenna shrugged out of her coat and said, “She used to be the sweetest girl, but now she’s so brusque.”
“I wonder why.” Burgundy took her straw out of the wrapper and put it in her drink. Charlotte’s anger on her behalf filled her with warmth. Even Jenna’s persistent presence couldn’t diminish that.
“Playing watchdog for her best friend, no doubt. I’m sure she’s the first person you ran to when you got my text.” The bitterness lacing Jenna’s voice was hard to
miss. Burgundy didn’t question it.
She simply shrugged and said, “That’s called loyalty, that willingness to be there for someone when they need you. It’s a pretty awesome trait. You should try cultivating some to people who matter, not just your job.”
The remark must have stung, because Jenna looked away, her gaze becoming distant. Score one for my team, Burgundy thought. Considering everything she’d tried and failed to accomplish over the past couple of weeks, it was pretty good to have a win.
“I know what I did was cowardly.” Jenna sucked in a breath and looked back at her. “I want to explain.”
“I’m all ears, but I wish you’d thought about sitting down and chatting before showing up and giving me your patented non-apology tactic.”
Jenna went red, right to the tips of her ears. Burgundy used to enjoy seeing her skin flush with passion, since the woman had such rigid self-control. Now it was a sobering reminder of the intimacy they no longer shared. She dropped her gaze and sipped her soda, trying to still the rapid beating of her heart.
“This is why I texted you,” Jenna said, “because you’re so blunt and confrontational. I didn’t want to get into a fight.”
“Confrontational doesn’t mean I’m unable to reason like an adult,” Burgundy pointed out. “In fact, I would have welcomed an adult discussion about why our relationship wasn’t working anymore.”
Jenna swallowed, her throat moving visibly. “Fine. So I was wrong and I’m sorry.”
“Hell yeah, you should be.” That was Charlotte, standing at their table again and serving Burgundy’s food first. She took her sweet time giving Jenna the salad and said, “The dressing is on the side, in case you want to sniff it, instead of actually consuming its calories.”
Burgundy picked up her sandwich and took a bite to smother her laughter. The patty melt was hot and delicious, the combination of caramelized onions, beef, melted Swiss cheese, and rye bread satisfying her body’s need for comfort food. In that blissful silence, she closed her eyes and savored everything about the moment.
When she blinked her eyes open, she saw Jenna watching her. “What?” she asked when she’d finally swallowed.
“I just...” Jenna lowered her gaze and sifted her fork through the salad on her plate. “I don’t know. That Burgundy – the one who loves simple pleasures and looks so cute when she’s happy – that’s who I liked. You live in a way that I’ve never been able to allow myself to, you know? Like that time we woke up and you farted, and rolled over and said, ‘The beast within stirs’.”
Burgundy remembered it much too well. “As in the time you rolled away from me in disgust? Yeah, what about it?”
“I wasn’t really disgusted or fed up, and that’s not the reason I ended our relationship. You’re so full of life and I realized I can’t keep up with you. It is literally the most daunting task in the world to try to be a part of your life. Does that make any sense?”
“Sure it does, in a twisted way.” Burgundy gestured at the other customers in the diner. “Look at where you come from, Jenna. This isn’t exactly Normalville, USA. In fact, a case of the morning farts or the way I appreciate food is as normal as it gets. So don’t hate the player. Hate the game.”
“I... What?” Jenna gaped at her, mouth open wide. “I have no idea what you’re saying.”
“Neither do I. Just work with me here.”
Seeing her ex-girlfriend’s discombobulation was too much fun for Burgundy. But when Jenna reached across the table and asked, “Can we agree to be friends,” she took her hand.
“Sure,” Burgundy said, even though her heart lurched. It really was over now and she’d agreed to the ending. Having an amicable conversation about it didn’t make her feel any better, so she motioned to Charlotte. “I’m going to be needing about a quarter of that chocolate pie when I’m done.”
“And a milkshake to wash it down?” The diner owner scribbled the request on her order pad.
“You know me so well, Doll Face.”
As soon as Charlotte walked out of earshot, Jenna pointed at her retreating back. “There’s the woman you should be with, not me.”
Burgundy picked up her sandwich and said, “Yeah, she’s said as much, too,” before taking a large bite. With so much conflict in and around her, this wasn’t the time to acknowledge that both Jenna and Charlotte were right. Once the dust settled, then Burgundy could ask Charlotte out on a real date.
“She... has?” Jenna turned fully toward the kitchen and Burgundy wondered if she was watching Charlotte. “I guess I’m not surprised. She’s more subtle than you, but she still speaks her mind.”
“It’s a Midwestern trait. You know how people are out here.” Burgundy washed the bite down with a swallow of soda before continuing. There was more unfinished business between them. “So, now that we’re both okay with this break-up, I’d like to know if you really want to stay friends or if you have ulterior motives.”
As before, Jenna flushed bright red. “Why are you the only person who calls me out like that?” she whispered.
“You mean, besides Charlotte? Because I know you Jenna. You wouldn’t be here without a good reason. Before, I was that reason. Now, though?” Burgundy shook her head and then bit into her sandwich. All the talking was distracting her from what really mattered – consuming delicious food and getting her town back to normal.
Jenna continued to pick at her salad, looking a little miserable. The expression on her face didn’t bother Burgundy. The blonde never had a particularly good reputation once she left Rock Grove for the big city. Once she could no longer exercise her succubus influence constantly, people realized she was a selfish, cold-hearted snake.
At first when they’d seen each other at their fifth year high school reunion, Burgundy thought nothing had changed about Jenna. But as the blonde returned to town for visits and they continued to bump into each other, they found little things in common with one another. It was a slightly tipsy moment at a mutual friend’s party – possibly the most normal moment in their entire lives – when they ended up giggling together. Giggles that turned into a surprise kiss.
Ever since then, when people asked how they got together, they would argue about who made the first move. The, “No, you kissed me first,” argument seemed endearing at the time, but now Burgundy wondered if it’d been obnoxious to anyone subjected to it.
Either way, it no longer mattered. They weren’t together. They were just Burgundy and Jenna, two women, born in the same supernatural small town, who’d come together briefly, only to grow apart.
“I’m going to ask nicely, Burg, and don’t take this the wrong way, because I think I have a right to know.” Jenna inhaled deeply, her chest rising with the breath. “Exactly what kind of crazy shit is going down in my hometown?”
With that question, Jenna pointed across the room at where Miss Mason was perched on Old Man Cragborn’s lap, smothering his face with kisses. That was bad enough, but what alarmed Burgundy was the way the man clutched at his chest and gasped for breath.
Chapter Eighteen
Burgundy went to work Monday morning filled with equal parts dread and indecision. After her eventful Sunday afternoon at the diner, all she wanted to do was hide away from the world. Fortunately, Cragborn’s heart attack wasn’t fatal, but there was no telling what continued over-zealous attention from the young, shapely Miss Mason might do to him.
Part of her wanted to tell Jenna everything she knew, from start to finish. As an investigative reporter, Jenna would have contacts who might be able to dig deeper and reveal something useful about the situation. Goodness knew Burgundy was floundering with her research. It seemed like every time she thought she could take a step forward, she took two steps back. She had to figure out a way to gather her scattered thoughts and make some progress. Maybe Jenna could do that for her.
She tried to fight that feeling of possessiveness – that this was her town and these were her neighbors, no longer Jenna’s. After all, Jenn
a chose to reject Rock Grove and move to the big city to pursue a prestigious career. Burgundy knew she had to let that go, because as one of the few remaining people unaffected by the love epidemic, she owed everyone something better than that. Letting her own selfishness stand in the way of getting help could lead to more people getting hurt.
But taking Jenna into her confidence could also harm the town, and Burgundy wasn’t sure she wanted to take that chance. Rock Grove remained small and safe, compared to so much of the world. Things like this would draw attention. During the short drive to work, Burgundy went through a pros and cons list in her head.
She arrived more than an hour early, hoping to find a book drop full of returned DVDs and also to see how Mr. Knight was feeling. The sorting and shelving gave her a chance to work out questions. Something about the repetitive task helped her meditate on her concerns. Usually, by the end of a work day, she had her answers.
As soon as she shut and locked the door behind her, she heard a rustle. When she turned, the man in the trench coat was standing on the other side of the interior doors, glaring at her with those silver eyes.
“Jeez!” Burgundy cried out, jumping and placing her hand over her skittering heart. “How did you do that?” She shoved one door open and reached for the light switches. Maybe it was time she start carrying mace around town.
“I told you, I’m a warlock,” he answered, as if that explained everything. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t get into your boss’s office to deliver the arrow needed to complete the union between him and that cat shifter. But she seems perfectly content to give him the love he wants, so I suppose it doesn’t matter now.”
“Actually, it does matter.” Indecision twisted into anger and Burgundy jabbed the man in the chest with her index finger. “You can’t keep going around shooting people with your love potion, forcing them to fall in love. This has got to stop.”
