by Lucy True
“And why can’t I do that?” He sneered at her poking finger, as if it were just an annoying insect and not full of the power to – potentially, if she knew how to use it – turn him into a toad. Then again, there was a small possibility that she could blow him up by accident by continuing to poke his chest.
Burgundy stared at him in horror. “It’s called ethics, scrublord. Say it with me: ethics.”
“Aren’t you a little young to be scolding me about behavior? How old are you now, baby witch, twenty-five?”
“Twenty-six,” Burgundy answered emphatically, giving him an even sharper jab with her finger, “and if you get your jollies by whacking people with arrows, fine. I want you to start shooting people with an anti-love potion, and then get the hell out of my town.”
The central staircase creaked and Burgundy heard rapid footsteps ascending it. Lynn appeared and hesitated at the top, looking at the man in the trench coat. “What’s he doing here?” she asked.
“Fixing his mess, if he knows what’s good for him,” Burgundy answered. She hoped the warlock was taking her seriously, but she had a feeling what she thought of as her fierce face really just looked like a creepy Cabbage Patch Kid.
“Okay, well I’m hungry so I’m running to the diner for something to eat. Mr. Knight should be okay. He seems well enough to have some distance from me, briefly, anyway. He’s still sleeping.”
Burgundy fought the urge to shove her fingers in her ears and chant, “La la la, I can’t hear you!” Instead, she waved Lynn away with a dismissive, “Yeah, okay.”
As soon as the assistant had shut the door, Burgundy launched back into her tirade.
“You can’t go around shooting people with your arrows and call it good. I mean, seriously, I don’t know why you’re doing this to us, but it’s ridiculous. First of all, it’s dangerous. People are almost dying for the people they love. How crazy is that? The people you shoot aren’t even compatible. They’re not meant for each other. You obviously know nothing about love.”
“Really?” The man folded his arms and continued to look down at her. Being short was starting to get on Burgundy’s nerves. But before she could let more words of rage flow, the warlock said, “I know you’re in love with Charlotte, which is why I shot her before you came in here.”
“Wha... What? When?” A chill rippled over her flesh and burrowed bone-deep inside of her. This couldn’t be happening. Her legs froze in place, unable to respond to her command that they move. She knew her mouth was hanging open, but she didn’t care.
Charlotte? In love? With whom?
The warlock seemed to consider her question, tilting his head up toward the ceiling and rubbing his chin with his fingers. “Hm, a few moments ago, right before you walked in. Usually you stop there for coffee, but you didn’t today. Anyway, I guess that’s what I get for not knowing what people want or who’s compatible with whom.”
“But... Lynn just...” Burgundy spun toward the door and squeaked, “Oh shit!”
She pushed through, pausing only to lock it behind her before running down the street. The cold mid-November air hit her lungs and turned every breath into a stinging gasp. The arctic shock left her shivering and sweating at the same time. It didn’t matter, though, because she needed to get to Charlotte before...
“Lynn!” she hollered as she rounded the corner and saw the cat shifter walking into the diner.
By the time Burgundy skidded to a halt at the door and stumbled in, she knew it was too late. Charlotte’s beautiful, chocolate brown eyes glittered with unnatural fervor as they focused on Lynn.
To her credit, the cat shifter backed away from the counter and looked at Burgundy for support. Charlotte reached across the counter for Lynn’s hand. “I love you, Lynn Hastings.”
The ringing of the bell as the door opened was distant, drowned out by the roaring in Burgundy’s ears. Somewhere through the rising volume of that awful sound, she heard Jenna’s voice.
“Burg, are you okay?”
****
“AND THEN HE SHOT CHARLOTTE with one of his arrows, so...” Burgundy shook her head, wiping her eyes along the sleeve of her coat.
“Oh no.” Jenna wrapped her arms around Burgundy. “It’ll be okay.”
“No. No, it won’t,” Burgundy moaned. “He’s ruined everything for everyone in this town and I’m afraid more people are going to get hurt. You saw what happened to Cragborn and he’s not the only one who’s almost died because of this.”
Jenna’s fingers were cool and strong beneath her chin, lifting her face. “Hey, at least you’re still sane, so focus on that.”
“Right. There’s a bright side.”
Jenna let out a gentle laugh and hugged Burgundy again. “Honestly, it’s Lynn I feel sorry for right now. How is she supposed to keep two people happy and from succumbing to lovesickness?”
“Well, she’d rather be with Mr. Knight than Charlotte, that’s for sure.” Burgundy scrubbed her hands over her face. Most of the tears had dried, but she was still glad for the privacy of the library before opening. The only people here were herself, Jenna, and then Mr. Knight, Lynn, and Charlotte in Mr. Knight’s office.
Between herself, Jenna, and Lynn, they’d agreed not to tell Mr. Knight about Charlotte falling in love with Lynn. Nor would they remind Charlotte about Mr. Knight. Their unlikely little ménage seemed like a recipe for disaster. So far, Lynn’s presence appeared to satisfy both of the love-struck people, though she made it clear she was getting tired of the situation.
“So the other problem is Al and Cass, right?” Jenna asked as they finally stowed their coats away and sat at the circulation desk.
“Oh no, all of this is just the tip of the iceberg. But thanks for the reminder. I should check on her. Cass has been babysitting Al for a few days. He was one of the first people struck, along with Chief Brandon.”
“Okay.” Jenna set out the notebook where she’d been taking notes and pointed at it. “So it’s up to maybe a third of townsfolks now, and between what you, Charlotte, and my mom have seen, we’re lucky no one is dead.”
“No one is dead yet,” Burgundy clarified.
“Right. So did we cover everything?”
Burgundy reviewed Jenna’s notes. They were chronological and looked complete, so she nodded. “Yeah. The only thing is, well...”
“Well?”
“I don’t know if it’s pertinent, but Cass told me about another time there was a mind-altering effect on the people of our town.”
“Do you mean the Pied Piper incident?”
Burgundy hadn’t seen it described that way, so she lifted her gaze to Jenna and looked at her quizzically. “Are you talking about that thing about twenty-three years ago when the children tried to all leave town at the same time?”
“Yeah!” Jenna sounded excited that Burgundy knew about it. “And all of us went up to the north woods. I don’t remember it, since I was so young, but my mother used to tell me what happened. I think she wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to go running off on her.”
“Do you think it’s pertinent to what’s going on now? I mean, I know it’s a flimsy thread for me to grasp. A stretch, really, but how often is a town’s entire populace compelled to do something like that?” Burgundy gave a shrug and then reached down to turn on her computer. Everything about the morning left her stomach feeling empty and sick. It almost seemed pointless to go on with her normal life.
Jenna nodded in agreement. “I know what you mean. Now everyone is compelled to fall in love. Maybe they aren’t connected as far as what’s happening, but in some other way.” She pressed the tip of her pen to her lips and then scribbled in her notebook.
Rather than try to keep up with Jenna’s notes, Burgundy asked, “Do you know anyone who can help us with this?”
“I’m sure I do, but first we need to be able to ask the right questions.” Jenna continued to nibble at the tip of her pen, gaze focused on her notes. “Does anyone here have any enemies?”
“Well, what did Cass tell you about her prediction?”
“That my aunt better make anti-love potions. She didn’t tell me any specifics about what she saw.” Even with her misgivings, working through her limited knowledge and questions with Jenna offered some gratification. She supposed the reporter would bring a fresh perspective to the problem, not to mention the vast network of contacts she’d probably cultivated as part of doing her job.
“Okay, I think the best thing for us to focus on is warlocks. What do you know about them?” Jenna asked.
Burgundy pressed her hands to her chest. “Why are you asking me? I’m a witch, not a warlock.”
“Witches are the closest thing to warlocks, though, so you must know something. Anything.”
“I know they’re into obtaining power. The more they get, the better.” Searching her mind for answers, Burgundy added, “According to Arthur, the only sane ones serve on the Witches Council. I’m not sure what he meant by that, but he said the rest don’t care for rules.”
“So power and a preference for not following rules?” Jenna’s brow furrowed as she wrote.
“Yeah. What I know is that they can do magick, like witches, but they also rely on artifacts to amplify their power.” Trying to explain a topic of which she had so little knowledge left her hoping she was explaining it correctly. The last thing she wanted was to sound stupid, especially in front of Jenna. “I really don’t know much other than that. I mean, I didn’t grow up learning about warlock magick. I grew up learning about witchcraft. And my knowledge of that is shakier than it ought to be at my age.”
“Still, it’s something to pursue.” To Burgundy’s surprise, Jenna reached out and gripped her hand. She raised her gaze to Jenna’s and her ex-girlfriend gave her another squeeze. “We’ll figure this out, Burg. We’ll get our hometown back to normal.”
Tears burned at the corners of Burgundy’s eyes and she couldn’t prevent one from rolling down her cheek. “And Charlotte?” she whispered.
Jenna’s gaze hardened with determination. “I promise.”
Chapter Nineteen
“What’s she doing here?” Arthur sat upright on the kitchen counter, looking like a guardian dragon statue. To his credit, he didn’t ask the question in front of Jenna. He waited until she went upstairs to stow her purse and overnight bag in the guest room.
“She’s going to try to help us figure out what’s going on.” Burgundy wasn’t in the mood to defend Jenna, but she also didn’t see the need for Arthur to be so aggressive. Sliding a take-out container of beef broccoli in front of him, she said, “Just be the super nice little dragon I know you can be.”
Without another word of contention, Arthur moved his snout to the beef broccoli. Burgundy organized the rest of the containers on the table and got forks out of the utensil drawer. When Jenna returned downstairs with her tablet, she accepted a fork and sat at the table.
“I think our first step needs to be understanding warlocks,” said Jenna. “Then maybe we can figure out what this guy wants.”
Burgundy rested her chin on her hand and nodded. It was strange to have Jenna in her house again, especially after resigning herself to the fact that they weren’t together anymore. Now she wondered if she would ever forget the scent of that perfume.
“You’re perfectly capable of doing this on your own,” Jenna went on as she opened a container of food, while simultaneously scrolling through the notes she’d transcribed onto her tablet. “I think you’ve had a crazy two weeks, though. Nothing’s cut you much slack, has it?”
The initial remark struck Burgundy as condescending, like an adult patting a child on the head and saying, “I know you can figure out what two plus two is, little one.”
But rather than fire back with “You should know – all of this started with that one text,” Burgundy shook her head. She was a librarian. Finding information should be her strength. Instead, though, she’d let setback after setback become her weakness. There was also a huge difference between finding the information requested and actually sorting out what was critical.
Jenna looked up at her and frowned. “You’re being awful quiet, Burg. Are you doing okay?”
“No, I’m not. I’m...” Burgundy raked her hands through her hair and lowered her head to the table. Even though the food smelled wonderful, it wasn’t holding her interest. The warmth of the cozy kitchen provided little comfort. “I’m exhausted. I feel like I’ve been chasing my tail.”
“And you’re not even a shifter.”
“Har har.”
“At least I got a normal Burgundy reaction from that. Come on, now.” Jenna nudged her elbow until Burgundy looked up at her. Those blue eyes had softened with concern, an expression not quite at home on Jenna’s face, but nice to see. “I promise you, we’ll fix this and we’ll do it together. You don’t have to deal with this alone anymore.”
As she straightened, Burgundy couldn’t fight the pout that puckered her lips. “I wasn't dealing with it alone, but now Charlotte...”
“Is temporarily indisposed. It’s just you and me, kid.”
Burgundy glanced at the firedrake happily nomming at his beef broccoli. “And Arthur,” she said. “We can’t forget him. He’s been around for hundreds of years and should know everything.”
Arthur lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at them. “Please. Only since the 1800s, like your aunt. That’s when she and I met. And don’t involve me – I’m nobody and I know nothing.”
“Oh, but you are somebody who knows a great deal,” Jenna purred, and Burgundy sensed that seductive power radiating from her, a warm tug meant to make other people feel at ease and let their guard down in Jenna’s presence. The sensation weaved around Arthur in what she could only guess was the succubus’s attempt to ensnare him into helping. “You know things we certainly don’t, and knowledge is power. Why don’t you show us how much you know about what’s happening here, you powerful little guy. Tell me about warlocks.”
The firedrake glared down his snout at her. “Really, your ability only works on human types. Not me. I’ve never been human, never will be, so don’t waste your energy.”
Jenna shrugged and turned back to her food. “You can’t blame a succubus for trying.”
“I suppose not. Well, warlocks are a pretty broad topic. What do you want to know?”
“Does Aunt Iris have any as clients?” Burgundy asked. It seemed if they were going to pursue the warlock thread, she might as well start there.
“Warlocks aren’t welcome in this house.” He spoke with such finality, Burgundy wondered if they would get anything else out of him, but then Arthur turned to her. “They’re bad news, Burg. First and foremost, they don’t adhere to the laws of the Witches Council. The Council is meant to govern all magick-using supernaturals, not just witches. Their laws aren’t all that extreme. They’re perfectly reasonable. It’s the warlocks who are unreasonable.”
Both Jenna and Burgundy laughed, exchanging glances. “I think we figured that out,” Burgundy said.
“Yes, because no reasonable person goes around shooting random people with a love potion. But why Rock Grove?” Jenna asked. “I mean, that’s the big question for me.”
Arthur gave a shrug. “You might as well ask why the sun rises and sets. No one quite understands warlocks. I don’t think they even understand themselves, other than their search for power. That and showing off.”
The women shared another glance. “Showing off,” Jenna mused.
“Why else would someone make an entire town of people fall in love with each other?” It sounded like the best theory to Burgundy and she looked at Arthur. “So they basically want to cause chaos in the hopes of getting attention? That seems pointless.”
“Pointless to you, p
erhaps, but not to them. Like I said, who can explain warlocks? I’ve met some, but I didn’t take tea with them, if you get my meaning.”
They passed a few moments in silence, eating. At least the discussion had brought back Burgundy’s appetite. Talking didn’t accomplish much, but it made her feel less useless. She watched as Jenna squinted down at her tablet, as if staring at it would somehow tease the answers to their questions out of the digital world.
“So at this point, all I’ve got is random warlock nonsense,” Jenna finally said. “I’m wondering if that’s the norm.”
“Maybe searching the news archives would help,” Burgundy suggested. It seemed like the most concrete idea. She was gratified when Jenna nodded and swiped her fingers over the screen. A few more bites of the fried rice and crab rangoons filled her, but certainly didn’t sate her curiosity.
At last, Jenna said, “So far most of what I’m seeing has specific motives. You know, like ‘Warlock seeks revenge after garden ravaged by local pesticide spraying’.”
Burgundy leaned across the table to look. “Is that a legit headline?”
“Yeah. This guy lives near a farming community in the south of England and got angry when their pesticides caused some of his stuff to wilt.” Jenna turned the tablet so Burgundy could see it better.
“I told you,” Arthur said. “They’re all nutters.”
“Nutters” didn’t even begin to describe the articles Jenna had found and Burgundy sat back down after perusing a few of the headlines. “Okay, so he’s got to have an axe to grind specifically here in Rock Grove. But how the heck are we going to figure out what he wants? He hasn’t been exactly forthcoming when I’ve talked to him.”
Jenna’s hands stilled over the tablet and she looked at Burgundy. “You’ve spoken with this warlock?”
“Yes, twice. He’s arrogant, but he doesn’t come off as dangerous.”
“Still, what he’s doing has already had harmful consequences. From what I’ve heard and seen, I wouldn’t trust this guy as far as I could throw him.” Jenna’s chest heaved slightly and she had that wild, passionate look in her eyes Burgundy remembered from the many times they’d enjoyed long nights together. She’d almost forgotten Jenna was capable not only of caring, but of fighting for what mattered to her.
