by K. J. Emrick
With a sigh, she admitted Willow was right. “It might come to that, I suppose, but for now I enjoy working with people, and contributing to the town.”
“Oh, for the love of Padraig, Addie! You don’t think we contribute enough as it is? We protect this whole town and no one ever knows a thing about what we do. They don’t know that we turn aside waves of leaf pixies. They don’t know how we keep shapeshifters like Cavallo Raithmore from ripping out their throats during the night.”
“I’m pretty sure Cavallo’s a vegetarian,” Addie said. “He doesn’t rip people’s throats out.”
Her sister pouted and slunk down low in the seat again. “You know what I mean.”
“I know you tried to date one of Cavallo’s sons once, and he turned you down flat. Was it the leopard or the wolf?”
“None of your business.” Now Willow turned her face to look out the window. “That’s what I mean, though. We already know what the Raithmore family is like. Cavallo’s a good bet as a suspect in my book. Hey, maybe we should talk to Cavallo next. You said he had a good motive to kill Seth.”
“He does. I have a feeling we’ll get just as much out of him as we did out of Mac, but we have to at least try, I suppose.”
“Wow, sis. You’re actually going to take my suggestion?”
“I told you,” Addie said to her. “I don’t think you’re a child. When you have good advice, you can bet I’ll take it. So. My café first, and then Cavallo’s place. I want to check in with Maria Stiles before we go there. As First Selectman she’ll want an update on our progress.”
“What progress?”
They shared a laugh at that, and for a moment they could just be sisters again.
Hopefully, Addie thought to herself, the rest of the day would go better.
Chapter 7
The Hot Cauldron Café was one of the great joys of Addie’s life. She had built it up from nothing, and now it was the only decent restaurant to eat at in Shadow Lake. Well, there was another place that served overcooked burgers and oily fries and something that passed as chili, but anyone who ate there once came to the Hot Cauldron the next time.
At the front of the building was their logo, a cartoonish black cauldron with a wooden spoon handle sticking out and bubbles popping out from above. Stereotypical witch stuff, sure, but it helped people remember her place. In one of the large front windows was a hand painted sign that read “Come In and Sit a Spell.”
Heh. Witch humor.
She could see inside that most of the tables were full of customers. Darla Pettigrew was there, moving quickly from table to table, taking orders and delivering food that she prepared herself. It was very busy, and Darla was handling it like a pro. Willow was right. They could use another employee. Well, that was something else to put on her to-do list.
They parked around back, behind the long rectangular of the cafe, in the little area for cars between the Hot Cauldron and the holistic foods store. The back door here opened into the kitchen and was only for employees, which meant Addie and Darla were the only ones with keys. At night Addie put a protective spell on the door, too.
Inside, it smelled wonderful. Pancakes were stacked in a warming tray. Sausages sizzled in a pan on low heat. Bowls of batter waited to be used, smelling of cinnamon and vanilla. An open carton of eggs sat next to the stove. Everything was nice and neat and orderly.
Addie stopped in the middle of the room, looking around her to inspect everything. “It looks like Darla has everything taken care of. I guess I didn’t need to worry after all.”
“Guess not,” Willow agreed, sniffing over a platter of cinnamon rolls. “Can I have one of these? I’m starving.”
“Sure. Go ahead and help yourself. I’m going to go talk to Darla for a moment.”
Willow already had a plate out for a roll and a couple of sausages. Addie left her there and went through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room.
The noises of people chatting while forks and knives clattered against plates was much louder out here. Several of the people waved to her when they saw her. Some of them, those who lived in town, asked if she knew anything about Seth Hunter’s death. She said a few words to each of them, promising that the First Selectman would let everyone know as soon as there was news, and reminding them that the Birch Hollow Police were on the case. That seemed to satisfy everyone for now.
She was totally in her element here. If there was time she would have thrown on an apron and served a few customers. Hopefully they could wrap up this mystery today, or at least find something that would lead them to an answer. Then tomorrow she could be here when they opened and make it up to Darla for dumping all of this responsibility on her.
As if she could hear Addie thinking about her, Darla twirled away from a table where she had been refilling glasses of orange juice, and stepped right over to her. “Hi, Addie. I didn’t expect you in. I just figured I’d be taking care of everything. You know. Like usual.”
She smiled when she said it and it certainly sounded like she was joking, but Addie thought she detected some bitterness in Darla’s tone. “Um. I know this was short notice. I really appreciate you taking over this morning. Tell you what. If nothing else comes up, why don’t you take Sunday off, okay?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ve found so much energy recently. I don’t need to take a day off. You should maybe take a day or two yourself, though. You look positively exhausted. Oh, poor dear.”
Addie stared at her. She was not tired! Well, not that much. Did she really look that bad?
Self-consciously she ran a hand through her hair. Darla — she couldn’t help noticing — looked positively invigorated this morning. She was nearly twice as old as Addie, with gray in her curly brown hair, but Addie could have sworn there was less gray in it today than there had been yesterday. She looked thinner too, although she had always been a pudgy woman. Maybe Addie was just seeing things that weren’t there. It wasn’t like there were a lot of ways for someone to grow younger, and all of the ways that did exist involved magic. Darla was a Typic, with no magical ability at all.
“Some women are just lucky,” Darla said.
Addie blinked at her as she skipped off humming to herself, back to the kitchen to fill more orders. Did she just… no. There was no way she could read Addie’s thoughts. It must be that she was reading Addie’s expression. Sure. That must be it.
Unless…
Was there a reason for the sudden youth Darla had seemed to find, and for her apparent clairvoyance?
“Wow, Addie,” she whispered to herself. “Get a grip. You’ve got enough mysteries on your hands without creating new ones out of thin air.”
“You know,” a voice said at her elbow, “these are quite possibly the best blueberry pancakes I have ever eaten in my life.”
She turned to the man sitting at the table right next to her, and nearly choked on her next breath. Using a knife and fork to cut a corner off an already dwindling short stack of pancakes, was Philly Smith himself.
Today his dress shirt was red and his slacks were a dark gray. He still had that light in his eyes that had nearly blinded Addie yesterday, and he still had that smile… and Addie was still terrified of what he might do in the next moment.
He reached a hand across the table, and she flinched.
His hand picked up his glass of milk, and he took a drink.
“Oh.” Her voice sounded very small in her ears. She cleared her throat, and tried again. “What are you doing here?”
He cut another bite. “I’m eating breakfast. I thought that was obvious.” He speared his fork through the piece he’d cut, and put it in his mouth, talking around it as he chewed. “Besides, Adair Kilorian. You only banished me from that little area around your home, not the whole town. Nice bit of spell work, by the way. No really, I mean that. I can usually defend myself against magic users. You managed to catch me off guard. You must be pretty strong. Just like your sister.”
> “Thank you,” she said, regaining some of her composure. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. Your sister was one of only a very few humans who I felt were worth my time. More than that, I actually loved her. I’d like to tell you about it, if you have the time. Why don’t you sit with me and have some breakfast?”
“Um. Sorry, but I really don’t have the time.”
“Brunch then. You must have burgers on the menu.”
“No. Really. I have things to do.”
His eyes flashed. “Are you really that afraid of me, that you won’t sit down and enjoy these amazing pancakes?”
“No,” she lied. “I just have a very busy morning ahead of me. I have people to talk to about what happened, you know, last night.”
That part was true, at least. She didn’t want to come right out and say that she was interviewing people about last night. Everyone around her had ears, and she could see the stares she was getting already from standing here at Philly’s table. They were all wondering who this incredibly handsome stranger was, and how he knew the Kilorian sisters.
Well, they were just going to have to keep wondering. Until Kiera worked out what role Mephistopheles Smith would have in the life of their son, no one needed to know who he was.
Especially not the fallen angel part.
“Well, I have to go,” she said when the silence started to stretch. “Willow’s waiting for me and we still have a lot to do today.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” He wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin, and those depthless eyes found her gaze and held her fast. “Can I ask a favor before you go?”
“A favor?”
“Ah, I see we’re back to repeating everything. Yes, Adair. A favor. I figure it’s the least you can do after banishing me from your home.”
“Th-that was a reflex,” she stammered.
“Still.” He waved a hand through the air, as if that didn’t matter. “I came here because I sensed my son returning home. His mother giving him up for adoption, well, that really hurt me. I know, I know, you’re thinking I’m a fallen angel, I have no feelings, or whatever. Trust me when I say that yes, I do. Alan is my son. A son needs his father. I was hoping that you could put in a good word for me with Kiera? She trusts you. If you told her to let me see him, it would go a long way.”
Addie felt a subtle sort of pressure against her mind as he spoke. It was similar to the way she influenced people with her Life Essence, only more compelling. Where she could only encourage people to do what they knew was right in the first place, what she was feeling from Philly was dark and vile. He was trying to force her to do something against her will.
If she hadn’t been a witch, experienced in the use of magic, then it might very well have made her do exactly what he was asking, without question, and without thought.
She took a deep breath, and pushed back against his influence with her own. “I’m sorry, Philly. That’s a matter for you and Kiera to decide on. I don’t have any say in it.”
Around him, the air turned to shadows.
A light burned behind his face, growing brighter and brighter, until she could see his veins, his bones, his teeth.
Flames rimmed his eyes.
Then everything snapped back to normal, like it had never happened.
It was such an abrupt transition that Addie was left disoriented. She had to grab the back of a chair to keep her balance. She concentrated on breathing and listening to her own heartbeat as it calmed down. Philly could seem so charming at times. Then there were moments like this, when Addie was sure that she was seeing the real him.
After all. He was one of the Fallen.
Leaning forward on his elbows, he picked up the salt shaker off the middle of the table, keeping his eyes locked on hers the whole time. His hand wrapped around the glass shaker, tight enough that his knuckles went white. He held it like that for what felt like an eternity even though it was probably less than a minute.
Then he casually put his fist down on the table, and unwrapped his fingers.
The shaker had melted into a twisted, jagged shape, with white crystals of salt embedded inside like jewels. The metal top had turned black, and she could see the perfect impression of a thumbprint burned into it on one side. The thumbprint of a fallen angel.
“Sorry,” he said to her. His smile was thin. “I have a problem with pillars of salt.”
“Er, that’s no problem. We have others.” Oh, great comeback, she told herself. You’ve got him quaking in his loafers. “I have to go. I really need to get back to Willow.”
“Yes, you do.”
Addie didn’t like the way he said that. Something about it made her nervous. It was like he knew something she didn’t.
Standing up, he flipped his hand over, and there in his palm were three twenty-dollar bills. It was way more than his breakfast tab came to. He dropped them, letting them flutter down to the table.
“Keep the change. I’ll be seeing you, Adair.”
Then he turned away.
And vanished.
She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Angels weren’t bound by the same physical laws that everyone else was bound to. Gravity. Distance. Even the magical barrier around Stonecrest hadn’t stopped Philly. Beings of light travelled where they wanted to, and how they wanted to.
No one else in the room had noticed the sudden disappearance of the good-looking man she had been talking to. Addie scooped up his money and went to the cash register with it, tucking it into the tray and ringing it into today’s sales. She’d have to tell Darla to take out forty of it for her tip. The way she was working today she definitely deserved it—
A tremor against her mind was Willow reaching out to her. This wasn’t mental telepathy. It was a feeling that Willow needed her, right now.
Four steps to the swinging door, two steps to get into the kitchen and inside she found Willow sitting on a stool at the center island counter, doubled over with her hands wrapped across her stomach. There were beads of perspiration on her forehead. Her face was pale.
“What happened?” she asked. “Willow, what’s wrong?”
Her sister groaned, and held her stomach tighter. “My insides, oh Addie, they feel like someone’s tearing at them with pliers. It hurts. It hurts!”
Addie assessed the situation quickly, an idea of what had happened already forming in her mind. She looked at the plate on the counter. There was a half eaten cinnamon roll, and crumbs, and other bits there. “Willow, what did you eat?”
“Oh, she’s fine,” Darla said, rushing out of the back storage room with a wet towel to apply to Willow’s forehead. “Just a bit of indigestion, I think.”
Willow shook her head but then stopped with a grimace when it hurt to even move that much. “It’s burning, Addie. Something’s wrong. Like, seriously wrong. I think I need to go home.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Darla said, nodding her head in approval. “You should take her home. I’m sure you don’t have anything you need to do right now.”
That couldn’t be further from the truth, Addie thought to herself. She pursed her lips and looked over the food on the plate again. “Darla, did you cook anything differently today? Anything unusual? Add anything out of the ordinary?”
“No, of course not… well,” she said, pursing her lips. It almost looked like a smile. “I did try frying the sausages in juniper berries. I mean, it’s such a small thing. It couldn’t be that, could it?”
Addie and Willow shared a look. Willow looked like she was going to throw up. It might not be a bad idea if she did. Purging her stomach right now might save her life.
Back somewhere around the early days of the Roman Empire, some cocksure alchemist had figured out that besides making a decent substitute for pepper, juniper had another use. It was toxic to witches and those with magical abilities.
Every witch knew to stay away from juniper. They couldn’t even enjoy a glass of gin, since juniper berries were wh
at gave the alcohol its distinctive bitter flavor. In small doses it caused stomach upset and rashes in places no woman wanted rashes. In large doses it caused internal organs to shut down. It was something about the chemistry of the oil in the berries mixing with the Life Essence in the fibers of a witch’s body. Addie didn’t fully understand the science behind it. She didn’t need to. She just knew it was bad news.
“Why on Earth would you do that!” she snapped at Darla. “Who uses juniper berries to cook sausages?”
“I just wanted to try it,” Darla pouted. “It’s a common seasoning in roast duck so I thought, hey, let’s try cooking the sausages with some. The people this morning seemed to love it.”
“Well, I don’t,” Addie told her. “This is my café, and I have the final say on the menu, and what I say is no juniper berries!”
Darla shrugged. “Whatever you say. So. Should you take Willow home, or to the hospital? I mean, she really doesn’t look good.”
“Neither. Sit still, Willow, and don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Angrily, she stomped into the back storage room and found the spice shelf. Considering she stocked not just the café but sometimes the witchy needs of the sisters too, there was always more than enough of everything here.
Including cinnamon sticks.
She quickly took one from the glass jar and screwed the lid on tight again—they lost their potency if they went stale—and then brought the stick out to Willow. “Here. Suck on this. Don’t chew it, just keep it in your mouth.”
With a shaky nod of her head Willow did as she was instructed.
“That can’t possibly work,” Darla insisted. “Come on, let me help you get her to the hospital. They’ll know what to do.”
Addie tried to ignore her as she kept rambling on about taking Willow to the hospital, or to their house, just on and on. If she didn’t know better Addie would have sworn that Darla was actually trying to sidetrack them. This whole thing with the juniper berries, and now insisting they pack it in and go home… no. There was no way Darla could know what juniper would do to Willow. No way. That was crazy, of course, because Darla was just a friend. A regular, human, non-magical friend. The juniper had to have been a mistake. One that had nearly cost Willow dearly.
