Dime Store Magic

by Kelley Armstrong

  "Tell me that isn't the koyut," I murmured against his mouth.

  He chuckled and slid his fingers between my thighs, teasing. I arched back and closed my eyes. When I opened them, the fog was wafting toward us. It touched my arm first, sending a tingle of energy through it. I gasped. Cortez chuckled again and pushed his fingers into me. The fog wrapped around us. Every hair on my body rose and I pressed my head into the sheets, luxuriating in the sensation.

  "That is--" I gasped after a few minutes. "You have to teach me that."

  He smiled, pulled out his fingers, and slid on top of me. "I'll teach you anything you want."

  CHAPTER 39

  GOOD MORNING

  Afterward, I disentangled myself from the sheets and his arms, and got to my feet. He lifted his head and frowned.

  "Wait," I said.

  I went to the cold cellar and grabbed a bottle of wine. When I returned, Cortez was still wrapped in the clean sheets, watching me.

  "Good?" I said, holding out the bottle.

  "Hmmm?" He blinked, then looked at the bottle. "Oh, yes. Wine. Good. Great."

  I laughed. "I suppose I'd be insulted if it was the wine you were staring at."

  He grinned then, a slow lazy grin that did something to my insides.

  "Guess I'm still in shock," he said.

  "Don't tell me I'm the first damsel in distress who's ever seduced you."

  "I can say, with absolute certainty, that you are the first woman who has ever even tried to seduce me, on or off a case." He reached for the bottle. "Do you need a corkscrew for that?"

  "Of course not. I'm a witch."

  I said a few words and the cork flew out.

  "I don't suppose you know how to conjure glasses," I said.

  "Sorry."

  "The kitchen's so far away. Do we need glasses?"

  "Absolutely not."

  He hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me down onto his lap. We each took a drink from the bottle.

  "I'm sorry about your bike," I said.

  "My ... ? Oh, right. As I said, it's nothing. I had insurance."

  "Still, I am sorry. I know replacing it won't be the same thing, if you restored it and all."

  "If I restored it?"

  "I didn't mean--"

  He chuckled. "You don't need to explain. I'm well aware that I hardly seem the type to be tinkering with transmissions and carburetors. To be honest, short of that particular hobby, my mechanical skills approach nil."

  "You can hot-wire cars."

  Another chuckle. "Yes, I suppose there's that. As for the motorcycles, one of my mother's boyfriends got me started restoring them when I was Savannah's age. At first, I must admit, I took it up in hopes it would add a certain cachet to my social life."

  "You hoped it would help you pick up chicks. Did it?"

  "Hardly. I quickly outgrew that notion. Or so I thought, though I must admit that part of my motivation in choosing to take the motorcycle to the funeral home was a semiconscious desire to present myself in a more attractive light."

  "I was very impressed."

  He fell back onto the sheets and laughed, startling me. "Oh, I could tell. You were very impressed. About as impressed as you were when you discovered I was the son of an infamous Cabal CEO."

  "The heir to an infamous Cabal CEO."

  I said it teasingly, but the humor drained from his eyes. He nodded and reached for the wine bottle.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "New topic. So, where do you live?"

  "Back to the heir question first. It's true and it's not a subject I want to avoid. I want to be honest with you, Paige. I want--" He hesitated. "My father has very good reasons for naming me heir, reasons that have nothing to do with me and everything to do with the politics of succession and keeping my older brothers in line."

  "A purely strategic decision? I can't believe that."

  "My father harbors some delusions regarding the nature of my rebellion. He's wrong. I will never be the employee--or leader--of any Cabal. Nor am I naive enough to take the reins of leadership in hopes of reforming it into a legitimate business."

  "Is it true--" I shook my head. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry--"

  "It's not prying, Paige. I'd be far more concerned if you didn't care. Ask away. Please."

  "About the bounty. Is it true? I mean, if you're in danger--"

  "I'm not. Or, if I am, it's a permanent situation and nothing that impacts the present circumstances. No one in Nast's organization would dare collect such a reward. Let me say, first, that Leah has a tendency to get her facts confused. My father's wife and my three half-brothers do not all have contracts out on me. Last I heard, only Delores and my eldest brother were offering bounties. Carlos, the youngest, did at one time, but recent debts have forced him to withdraw the offer. As for William, he's never tried to hire anyone to kill me, probably because he hasn't the wits to think of it."

  "Are you serious?"

  "About William? Unfortunately. He's intelligent enough, but lacks initiative."

  I bumped his shoulder. " Ha-ha. You know what I mean. The bounty. You're serious?"

  "Quite, though I wouldn't suggest you mention it to my father. He's quite convinced he cleared this matter up years ago. Killing the bastard heir is absolutely forbidden. Any family member caught attempting it will be severely punished. He tried threatening them with death, but that didn't work, so he revised it to the worst possible fate: disinheritance."

  "You guys raise the dysfunctional family to a whole new level, don't you?"

  "The Cortezes have always been overachievers."

  We passed the bottle again.

  "You asked where I lived," he said.

  "Right."

  "I believe the standard expression for my situation is 'no fixed address.' Since graduating, I haven't been in one place long enough to even sublet an apartment. My work--legal and otherwise--keeps me on the move. With my extracurricular activities, I'm obviously ill suited for a steady job at a law firm. Instead, I do piecemeal legal work for supernaturals."

  "Lawyer to the paranormal."

  "Almost as bad as 'superhero,' isn't it? It provides me enough to live on, no more and no less. More importantly, it gives me the opportunity to do what I really want."

  "Save the world?"

  "Something which I'm sure you know nothing about."

  "Hey, I don't want to save the whole world. Just my corner of it."

  He laughed and tightened his arms around me. We kissed for a few minutes, then I reluctantly pulled back.

  "I want to know more," I said. "About you, about what you do. But I suppose we should get some sleep."

  "Probably. If these last two days have been any indication, we'll need our rest." He reached over and retrieved his glasses, then looked at me. "Any chance we can avoid separate sleeping quarters tonight? I know Savannah's presence is a concern--"

  "One easily handled by a locking spell or two."

  The next morning I awoke to find myself alone. At first I thought Cortez slipped out in the night and returned to the sofa. Which would be a bad sign. But, as I stretched, I noticed his side of the bed was still warm.

  I glanced at the clock. Eleven A.M.? I hadn't slept this late since college. No wonder Cortez was up.

  I tumbled from bed, still groggy, pulled on my kimono, and headed for the bathroom. The door was ajar, so I gave it a shove and whacked it against Cortez, who was bent over the sink, shaving.

  "Sorry," he said.

  "For what? Standing near a door?"

  A small smile. "For leaving the door open, thereby causing you to believe the room was vacant." He waved to the mirror, which was fogged from his shower. "I opened it for some air. I couldn't find the--"

  I flicked a switch outside the door and a whoosh filled the room.

  "Ah, the fan," he said.

  "Lousy setup," I said. "I'll be in my room. Just knock when you're done."

  Before I could leave, he grabbed my arm, tugged me inside, and closed
the door. Then he pulled me against him and lowered his mouth to mine. Well, that certainly alleviated any "morning after" awkwardness.

  I kissed him back, wrapping my hands around his neck. Tendrils of damp hair tickled my fingers. The clean tang of soap filled my nose. When my tongue slipped into his mouth, I tasted mint. Toothpaste.

  I jerked back and slapped my hand over my mouth. "I have to brush my teeth." As I spun to face the mirror, I caught sight of my hair, which frizzed out in a way that could only be called "witchy." "Shit! My hair!"

  Cortez wrapped a handful around his fist and bent to kiss my neck. "I love your hair."

  "Which is more than you can say for my breath."

  As I reached for the toothpaste, he turned me around.

  "Your breath is fine."

  Then, as if to prove it, he kissed me again, deeper this time, lifting me up onto the counter and pressing against me. I slid my fingers under his open shirt, to push it off his shoulders, but he caught my hands.

  "This, I believe, is my seduction," he said. "Not, of course, that I wish to discourage you from taking the initiative in future. Nor to discourage you from disrobing me or from disrobing yourself, particularly in the ... enchanting fashion you employed last night. But--"

  "Are you seducing me or talking about it?"

  He grinned. "I could talk about it, if you like. In terms perhaps more amenable to the situation."

  "Tempting," I said. "Very tempting. If I wasn't worried about Savannah waking up--"

  "Quite right," he said. "There will be plenty of time for talk later."

  His mouth came down to mine as he undid my sash. He slipped his hands inside my kimono, and traced his fingers up my sides, slowly, then moved to cup my breasts. As his thumbs found my nipples, I arched my back and moaned.

  Something hit the door, hard enough that we both jumped, me falling into his arms.

  "Is someone in there?" Savannah said between pounds.

  Cortez looked at me. I motioned for him to answer.

  "I am," he said.

  "Are you almost done?"

  "Umm, no, I'm afraid not, Savannah. I'm just starting."

  "Oh, geez," she groaned.

  The door creaked, followed by a rasp and a thump as she dropped to the floor. Cortez exhaled and shook his head. We waited another minute. Not only didn't Savannah leave, but her noises of impatience escalated in frequency and volume.

  Cortez leaned down to my ear. "Are you sure you want to keep her?"

  I smiled, shook my head, and waved him toward the door.

  "What about you?" he mouthed.

  I slid off the counter, then backed into the corner by the toilet and cast a cover spell. Cortez nodded, then opened the door.

  "Finally!" Savannah said. "There's only one bathroom here, you know."

  He brushed past her without a word, footsteps echoing down the hall.

  "Grouchy this morning, aren't we," she called after him.

  Savannah closed the door and proceeded to her urgent business. That business, contrary to what one might expect, had nothing to do with the toilet. First she brushed her hair--with my brush. Then she sampled some new lipstick--my lipstick. Then she rooted around under the cupboard and pulled out my hidden stash of high-priced shampoo and conditioner. Hair products which, may I point out, were intended for curly hair. Finally, she grabbed my French perfume and sprayed it around as if it was air freshener. I had to bite my lip to keep from yelping.

  Next, a shower. As Savannah began to undress, I averted my eyes, shifting my gaze all the way to the right. After several minutes in that position, my eyes began to water. When I finally had to glance back, she was standing in front of the mirror, just standing there, looking at herself and frowning. I looked away again.

  "Well, I'm a woman now," she muttered to her reflection. "Hurry up and do something." She snorted. "What a rip-off."

  With that she stamped to the shower and got in. When the water began, I eased from my hiding spot and darted to the door, then stopped, stepped back, did a quick swish with mouthwash, and left.

  After dressing, I walked into the kitchen to find Cortez surveying the fridge. He looked up when I entered, glanced behind me for Savannah, then pulled me in for a kiss.

  "Last one for today, I presume," he said, then sniffed. "You smell nice."

  "Not intentionally," I muttered. "My mom always said never to use the cover spell to spy on someone or you might see something you don't want to. Well, I just learned why my shampoo and perfume disappear so fast. And now I know why my friends always complained about their siblings using their stuff." I grabbed the fridge door. "Did you get that growing up?"

  "No," he said, as I peered into the nearly empty fridge. "I was an only child, like you."

  I paused, confused. I knew he had three older brothers--oh, wait. I recalled what Leah said about his parentage, that he was ... Words failed me. Oh, I knew a few. Illegitimate, conceived out of wedlock, plus the "B" word, which I wouldn't mention, even if Cortez had used it himself. Everything sounded so negative, so archaic. Maybe the terms were archaic because there was no need for such a designation at all. If a child is conceived during an extramarital affair, the burden for any questionable judgment rests with the parents, not the child. In the twenty-first century, we should be enlightened enough to realize that. Yet, by the way Leah had brought it up, such a casually tossed barb, I knew it wasn't something the rest of the Cabal world let Cortez forget.

  "Not much in there," he said, looking over my shoulder. "If the eggs are still good, I could make an omelet. Yes, I know I made that yesterday, but my repertoire is exceedingly limited. It's that or, possibly, a hard-boiled egg, though I have been known to boil them into golf balls."

  "You've done enough. I've got breakfast. Eggs, pancakes, or French toast?" I glanced at the bread, the edges blooming a lovely shade of periwinkle. "Forget the French toast."

  "Whatever is easiest."

  "Pancakes," Savannah said as she swung into the kitchen.

  "You set the table, then, and I'll cook."

  CHAPTER 40

  THE VOTE

  By the time breakfast--or should I say brunch--ended, it was past noon. Cortez insisted on cleaning up and also insisted on Savannah's help. I took my mug of coffee and was heading into the living room when the phone rang. Cortez checked the call display.

  "Victoria Alden," he said. "Shall we let the machine pick up?"

  "No, I'll get it. After the last few days, Victoria is one problem I can handle."

  "Hello, Victoria," I said as I picked up the phone.

  Silence.

  "Call display, remember?" I said. "Great invention."

  "You sound very cheerful this morning, Paige."

  "I am. The crowd's gone. The media has stopped calling. Things are definitely looking up."

  "So stealing Margaret's car and leading the police through a cemetery last night are things you would consider to be an improvement in your current situation?"

  "Oh, that was nothing. We were very careful, Victoria. The police won't know it was me. They haven't even called."

  "I'm phoning concerning the future of one of our Coven members."

  I paused, then winced, my euphoria fading. "Oh, geez. It's Kylie, isn't it? She's decided not to stay with the Coven. Look, I've been talking to her and I'll speak to her again when all this is over."

  "This isn't about Kylie. It's about you."

  "Me?"

  "After hearing of your latest escapade, we called an emergency Coven meeting this morning. You've been banished from the Coven, Paige."

  "What--you--" Words dried up in my throat.

  "The vote was eight to three with two abstaining. The Coven has decided."

  "N--no," I said. "Eight to three? That can't be. You rigged it. You must have--"

  "Call Abigail, if you wish. I'm sure she is one of the three who voted to allow you to stay. She'll tell you it was a fair and open count. You know the rules of banishment, Paige. You h
ave thirty days to leave East Falls and you are prohibited from taking any of your mother's--"

  "No!" I shouted. "No!"

  I slammed down the phone. Without turning, I sensed Cortez behind me.

  "They banished me," I whispered. "They voted to kick me out of the Coven."

  If he replied, I didn't hear it. Blood crashed in my ears. Somehow I managed to cross the three steps to the recliner and drop into it. Cortez sat on the armrest, but I turned away from him. No one could understand what this meant to me and I didn't want anyone to try. As he bent over me, his lips moved, and I braced myself against the inevitable "I'm sorry."

  Instead he said, "They're wrong."

  I looked up at him. He leaned down and brushed the hair from my face, using the movement to stroke my cheek with his thumb.

  "They're wrong, Paige."

  I buried my face against his side and began to sob.

  I knew the Elders were beyond help. All the older witches were. They were set in their ways and their beliefs, and I could do little to change that. I wouldn't waste my time trying. Instead, I wanted to focus on the younger generation, the ones like Kylie, who was heading off to college this fall and seriously contemplating breaking with the Coven.

  Save the younger generation and let the older one wither away. From there, I could reform the Coven, make it a place witches came to, not escaped from. Once the Coven had regained its strength and vitality, we could reach out to other witches, offer training and fellowship and a powerful alternative to those, like Eve, who saw power only in dark magic. I'd make the Coven more flexible, more adaptable, more attractive, better suited to fulfilling the needs of all witches. A grand plan, to be sure. Maybe not one I could even realize in my lifetime. But I could start it. I could try.

  This was more than a vision; it was the embodiment of every hope I'd had since I'd been old enough to form hopes. I couldn't imagine leaving the Coven. Literally could not envision it. Never at anytime in my life had I wondered what life would be like outside the Coven. I'd never dreamed of living outside Massachusetts. I'd never dreamed of falling in love and marrying. I'd never even dreamed of children. The Coven was my dream and I'd never considered anything that would interfere with that mission.

  So what was I to do now? Roll over and cry? Let the Elders drive me away? Never. When the initial pain of being banished subsided, I stepped back for a logical assessment of the situation. So the Coven had kicked me out. They were scared. Reacting to an age-old fear instilled in them by Victoria and her cronies. Terrified of exposure, they took the easiest route--rid themselves of the cause of that threat. The people of East Falls had done the same thing with their petition. Once the danger passed, both would welcome me back. Well, maybe "welcome" is optimistic, but they'd allow me to stay, in the town and in the Coven. With the right amount of will and determination, anything can be fixed.