by Lucy True
“So...” Jenna leaned toward Burgundy, her crystalline blue eyes locking on her face. “What’s your aunt hiding?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Apparently, Burgundy wasn’t the only person glad the mayor had finally returned and scheduled a town meeting to address the weird love epidemic. It was impossible to miss what was going on if one simply took a stroll downtown. When Burgundy received the fliers at the library on Wednesday morning for a meeting later that night, she hung several copies around the building.
At the end of the day, she locked the doors and went to the meeting with Sylvia and Marian. The meeting room at the town hall wasn’t as full as usual, and the librarians exchanged glances with one another. So many familiar faces were missing. Martha and Chief Brandon were always present at meetings, Martha because she was opinionated and the chief because the chief of police was an important figure in their government.
The Main Street business owners were normally present, too, but Charlotte wasn’t the only one missing. As Burgundy and her co-workers picked their way along the carpet toward the front of the room, she noticed that instead of the usual crowd, the attendance was less than half. The town hall smelled of fresh paint and the air within was cold. She hugged her arms tight around herself to ward off a shiver.
“What a disaster,” Sylvia muttered as they scooted along the second row of folding chairs and sat down. “This whole thing has decimated our town. I can’t believe it.”
Burgundy could, though she didn’t say so. She realized this might be the moment she’d have to face everyone in town and tell them everything she knew. In a way, she wished Jenna had stuck around, instead of going back to the city. Today she’d received a couple of encouraging texts, letting her know Jenna was waiting for some contacts to follow-up with her. It was a start, at least.
Glancing around the room, she tried to see if the warlock also happened to be present. It wouldn’t surprise her if he came to gloat or, worse, inflict more damage. Fortunately, all of the faces there were townsfolk. Not exactly friendly, of course, but she wouldn’t expect them to be in light of the situation.
When the last person filed through the door, the one police officer in the room locked it. Burgundy almost laughed at the gesture. Considering the warlock was able to get into the library when it was locked, this wouldn’t keep him out of their meeting if he really wanted to crash. She supposed it might give the townspeople some comfort and almost hated to disabuse them of that notion. But she realized she’d have to, and her heartbeat sped up as the mayor approached the podium. There were six folding chairs arranged behind him, three to each side of the podium, and only two people sitting on stage. That meant four town council members were out of commission, an even more disturbing development as far as Burgundy was concerned.
“Hello people of Rock Grove.” Townsfolk often described Mayor Michaels as “down-to-earth,” which Burgundy found ironic, since he was a half-celestial. Her aunt had a close friendship with the mayor and his wife, so they’d visited her home often. Burgundy had never seen the mayor sprout wings, but as a child she’d always hoped he would. “It is time we discuss the deeply disturbing phenomenon that has taken so many of our friends and neighbors from us.”
A murmur rippled over the crowd and Burgundy glanced over her shoulder. Heads nodded and someone said, “My son was deathly ill until Antonia Gorton came to our house. We’ve had to let her stay with us. If she leaves, he gets sick again. I’m afraid he might die!”
“Yeah,” called out another voice. “What are you going to do about this? Our own chief of police won’t even leave his house now that he’s smitten with that Amazon woman!”
“All of us know our town is in grave danger and that’s why we’re here tonight,” the mayor said, raising his hands to placate the crowd. To Burgundy, Mayor Michaels looked every inch the all-American boy, with his brown hair, brown eyes, jeans, and a blue button-down shirt. But she knew ancient power filled him. Maybe he would have the answers she hadn’t been able to find.
“Tell us something we don’t know!” someone called out from the assembly.
The mayor gripped both sides of the podium. “The problem is, all of us are together in our ignorance. The one thing I know for certain is arrows are causing this. Whatever is going on, this little Cupid prank is not funny. If the perpetrator is in the room, I ask here and now that he stop it. If not, then we have to find a way to stop it ourselves. We can’t continue to live like this.”
“I’ll say.” Glen Gleason rose to his feet and all eyes turned to the tall, skinny man who ran Rock Grove’s old theatre. His dark brows were an almost jarring effect on his otherwise pale face, above blue eyes that seemed to lock onto a person and stare without blinking. “I’m running the diner right now because Charlotte McVay has been shot and I can’t keep doing this. Coffee isn’t my strength, people. The demands of running the theatre are vital to the morale of this town, more vital than cappuccino.”
In response to his deadpan statement, one of the young ladies at the back of the room said, “Yeah, but the cappuccino is good. That cappuccino maker is the best thing that’s happened to us all week.”
Burgundy heard one of the Calhoun brothers call out, “Besides, picking out craptastic movies isn’t hard work, Glen.”
“Excuse me, but I ensure that every film is educational, riveting, and unique.” Glen turned stiffly to glare at the man who’d spoken.
Burgundy muttered, “I should have brought popcorn for this one, but we didn’t have enough time.”
“I know,” Sylvia agreed. “I can’t believe you’re actually here without snacks. It’s so entertaining when Glen and the Calhouns get into it.”
“Except one of the brothers isn’t here,” Marian pointed out. “I hear he’s fallen hard for that chick who runs the bait and tackle shop.”
Burgundy hoped it wasn’t Jake, who’d fled Delia Hargrove with such fear in his eyes.
It seemed their muttered conversation wasn’t as quiet as they thought, and Burgundy stiffened with dread as Mayor Michaels said, “Burgundy Jane Hart, you seem to be taking things seriously. For once. Why don’t you give us a witch’s take on this, since magick is clearly involved.”
“Um...” She turned to the front and offered him a smile. “Of course I am. I mean, not involved, but taking this seriously. We can’t have Glen dividing his time between the diner and the theatre. The people need their Saturday night movie and their cappuccino. Especially me.”
“Says the woman who hasn’t been at movie night the past two Saturdays,” Glen accused in the same monotone. “You’re the one regular I can count on, yet you haven’t been at the theatre. So tell me, Burgundy, what have you been up to lately – brewing love potions?”
Sylvia scooted closer to her, a protective gesture that warmed her heart. Especially considering she heard yells of agreement. They weren’t exactly “Burn the witch!” but the meeting sounded close to taking a bad turn.
Once again, Mayor Michaels motioned for calm. Then he held out one hand and said, “Burgundy, I’ve been hoping you might have some insight, since the only person in Rock Grove who might be able to explain this is Iris. In her absence, can you share your thoughts?”
“Right. Me. Of course.” Burgundy pushed herself up out of her seat and grinned at the mayor. “Well, I think you’re right about it being magickal, but I haven’t quite been able to figure out how he’s doing it.”
“How who’s doing it?” someone asked.
Burgundy turned to face the townsfolk. “The warlock,” she stated.
That one word set off a domino effect of people talking over each other, until the wave of noise became so loud, the mayor had to use his gavel to quell it. “Okay, okay, people. Let her talk, please!”
When the room was quiet again, Burgundy held her hands out to her sides in a helpless gesture. “Look, all I know is there’s a warlock and he’s shooting arrows like some kind of misguided Cupid.” She acknowledged the mayor wi
th a nod. “I don’t know that I’d minimize the situation by calling it a prank, because I’ve seen far too many near-deaths resulting from it. My best theory at this point is he’s filled blunt arrows with love potions that bespell people upon impact.”
“How can we fix this?” Mayor Michaels asked, leaning forward over the podium.
“I wish I knew.” It was the one answer she loathed herself for having to give to an authority figure she admired. He was dedicated to the well-being of Rock Grove, a true leader. Burgundy smiled sheepishly. “Trust me when I say, I’ve done everything I can to try to get my aunt back here to fix this. Jenna Iverson and I have been trying to find out who is doing this and why, but we have no way of stopping it unless we stop the warlock himself.”
“It’s always warlocks messing with our town,” a woman with a raspy voice called out. “Like that time one came along and tried to take our children away.”
Burgundy turned to look at the woman who’d spoken. “What?” she gasped.
“Yeah, when you were just a little thing, you and a whole buncha kids...” The woman jerked her thumb toward the door and let out a whistle. “Outta here. It was a warlock who did it, you know.”
“No, I don’t know.” Burgundy glanced around the room and saw several people nodding in agreement with the woman. The townsfolk were confirming Jenna’s theory that a warlock had stolen musical pipes and used them to affect the children of their town. “Why did he do that?” she asked.
The woman shrugged. “At the time, we heard it was because he was looking for his kid.”
“Are you telling me the Pied Piper incident was about a custody dispute?” That sounded unbelievable. None of the children Burgundy went to school with had been warlocks, not even the older kids. In a small town where everyone knew everyone else, she certainly would have been aware if one of her playmates could use magick.
“Whatever happened, your aunt fixed it and the kids went home.” The woman shrugged and said, “So we need her to fix it again and fast. My husband won’t even leave the house for fear this guy’ll get him.”
Burgundy thought about the hundreds of people she’d seen coupled up around town and said, “I think he’s safe. This guy seems to only be shooting the single people, not married people. But I can see where you’re coming from.”
“So,” the mayor asked, drawing her attention back to the front of the meeting room, “where is your aunt while all of this is going on?”
“She’s on her special sabbatical.” Burgundy closed her eyes, but couldn’t close out the raised voices behind her. Everyone was yelling again and it made her mind spin. “Look, I’m trying!” she shouted. “The last time she went on sabbatical, I was thirteen years old, and she made me stay with the mayor and his wife. I’m sure Mayor Michaels remembers that.”
The mayor nodded. “I do. She told me if there was a grave emergency while she was gone, she would respond. So why isn’t she here now?”
Realization dawned on Burgundy – understanding about why she hadn’t heard a word from Aunt Iris, despite her repeated messages to her that this was a life or death situation.
“He must have found a way to keep her from knowing about this,” she said, “or to stop my messages from getting through to her. Either way, I think Rock Grove is on its own.”
“Is it the same warlock as before?” the raspy-voiced woman asked.
The mayor looked at Burgundy, who shrugged. “I have no idea,” she confessed. “I didn’t even know about the whole Pied Piper thing until Cassandra Troy told me about it last week. The newspaper articles don’t show the guy. They don’t even mention a warlock.”
“Oh, honey, you’d know him if you saw him.” Burgundy turned to see the woman give a little hand wave. “Tall, dark, handsome, with silver eyes.”
Burgundy swallowed as her heart pounded hard against her chest. For a moment, she was so light-headed, she thought she’d pass out right there. Collapse among the folding chairs in the chilly town hall. Then she gathered her thoughts, took a deep breath, and nodded as she responded.
“I’ve seen him, then. Whatever he wanted twenty-three years ago, I guess it’s still here, somewhere. I don’t think you need me to tell all of you how dire this situation is. If we don’t stop him, you might be adjusting our town’s population count sooner, rather than later.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The town clerk was none other than the mayor’s wife, Mercy Michaels. A smile yanked up the corners of her red lipsticked mouth as she escorted Burgundy into the records room of the town hall. She had the kind of face that seemed to be frozen in perpetual friendliness, the perky soccer mom look, though Burgundy knew not to cross her. Ever. Mercy was, like her husband, half-celestial. This meant she had a whole host of powers that made her an effective guardian of not only town records, but Rock Grove itself.
It was too bad magickal problems were beyond her and her husband’s abilities to resolve. Burgundy would have been glad to sit back and let them handle the problem. But now here she was on her day off, trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle for which she didn’t even have a picture.
“Records are organized by year,” Mercy told her, running her hand along the shelves of leather-bound books. Not one strand of her buttery blonde hair moved. Even when she tossed her head, the hair seemed locked in place, a static chin-length bob. The same was true of her lipstick’s staying power. It looked fresh, like she’d just slicked it on, yet it didn’t seem to wear off as she spoke.
“That’s some hairspray you use,” Burgundy commented. She’d always been a little in awe of the mayor and his wife. They had the strength to lift and throw cars, the speed to race a train, and the ability to fly. And then some. As far as she knew, there were no more powerful people in all of Rock Gove. The only problem was even a half-celestial couldn’t combat magickal spells.
“Hairspray?” Mercy turned to look at her.
“It’s amazing how your hair stays all in one place. Can I touch it?”
The woman narrowed her eyes and then turned back to the shelves. “Years are combined, because it’s really not worth it to have one book per year, so start here for the town’s first birth records.” She rested her manicured hand on one book’s spine. Her nails were also a shiny red, with no chips in the polish. Perfection clung to her like an aura. “Any questions?”
“One: are you born with it or is it Maybelline?”
Mercy’s perma-smile widened. “It’s all angelic glamor, kiddo, if you must know. That’s my secret.”
“You wear it well, Mrs. Michaels.” Burgundy nodded and then turned to the shelves of books. The records room smelled a tad musty and it was chilly, like the rest of the town hall. This time, she’d thought to bring a cardigan to stay warm. Now she wrapped the chunky blue sweater around herself and nodded. “Okay, this looks easy enough, especially for a librarian. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
“Okie dokie.” The town clerk turned and walked out, leaving Burgundy alone with over two centuries worth of vital and town records.
Based on Burgundy’s math, she wanted to start about fifteen years before she was born and stop the year after, just to make sure she looked at every child born in Rock Grove at that time. She opened the first book she needed and looked at the register of births. Each birth record noted the child’s name, gender, and race, the parents’ names and races, the parents’ residence, and their places of birth.
Because supernaturals weren’t prolific breeders, she made short work of the birth registers. Most of the children born in Rock Grove during that time frame were shifters or fey with only one demon, Jenna, and one witch, Burgundy.
She flipped back to the page with her birth listed on it and read the entry. Her glance passed over her mother's name to the place where her father should be listed. That space was blank. But she wasn't the only one on the register without a father. Jenna’s father also remained an unknown.
It made sense. Succubus women like Jenna’s mo
ther bred selectively, usually with the most powerful, virile man they could find. That might include shifters or fey, but only if they held alpha or kingly status. There were none in Rock Grove who weren’t already married. Succubus also didn’t like to go far from home, where they felt safe. They had so few defenses beyond their compulsion ability.
The only other likelihood for Jenna’s father was a passing wanderer, someone not beholden to any clan, town, or family. If Arthur was right about the instability of warlocks and their chaotic tendencies...
Burgundy closed the book and peeked through the wide-open door. Mercy seemed busy behind the reception counter, so Burgundy looked at the titles on the spines of the other books. When she found the one that included the year she wanted, she tugged it off the shelf and opened it.
After reviewing the marriage registers, she sighed. Of course there was nothing for Jenna’s mother, but at least she’d tried.
She replaced the book and walked out of the room, to the town clerk’s desk. Mercy looked up at her, still smiling, and asked, “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Not really.” Burgundy reached for one of the green-taped flower pens in the stone-filled flowerpot on the counter. The strange affectation for turning a writing instrument into something else seemed pervasive, even in Rock Grove. She twirled it between her fingers and asked, “Do you remember Jenna Iverson’s dad?”
Mercy let out a light, trilling laugh. “Oh, Burgundy. You might as well ask if I remember every breath I’ve ever taken. Of course I don’t. Sheila Iverson has a distinct type, you know, and they all sort of run together as one, big masculine blur. But as long as they don’t hose the town down with testosterone, no one really cares.”
“A type?” Burgundy reinserted the flower pen in the pot. “Like what, exactly?”
“You know – tall, dark, and handsome. Maybe a little arrogant. Her daughter is the opposite, of course. Jenna will date anything with a pulse, bless her promiscuous little heart.”
