by CC Dragon
“Ryan Jones.” The hunter stepped out from the shadows and extended a hand, introducing himself to the customer. The vampires behind the counter moved to drag Ryan down the stairs, but I shook my head at them. We didn’t need a big incident in front of customers.
I tried to place the wizard. Remember his name. He hadn’t been at school with me. From what he claimed about his aunt and Esme, he was one of the Killean family that could trace their line back to the Druids. They were handsome, powerful, and not very social. So far, this man hit all the marks. He was a year or two older than me, I’d guess.
“Bran Killean,” he replied without shaking hands.
“Bran? Like Game of Thrones? You poor thing,” I stifled a giggle.
“The Celtic name means king or raven, so it’s a pretty obvious name choice for Mr. Martin since the boy chases a raven around. My middle name is no better, so Bran is it.” He took his coffee and sipped it.
“I haven’t seen you in here,” I said.
“You sleep at night,” Brad said, grinning at Bran like a fool. He’d been a step or two behind the hunter, watching him like a hawk.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re a vampire, Mr. Killean?”
“No. I deal with people all day and get my work done best at night. I catnap. But I don’t want to interrupt your late-night tryst.” He grinned slightly.
I looked down and laughed. “Yeah. My best lingerie. Please. This hunter keeps trying to escape.”
“So, let him go. Or is he a frog you turned into a prince, but he’s not up to snuff?” Bran asked.
“My cousins gave me these pajamas. They’re warm. This hunter has to stay. The police are probably still watching the building. It’s a long story, but we saved him, and he’s got to deal with helping us,” I said.
“You wanted me gone as soon as I was healthy enough. I’m healthy,” he said. “Help me get out of here, and I’ll do anything you want.”
Bran’s eyebrow raised at that offer. For a split-second, I thought he might be gay. That’d be my luck. Any guy who captured my interest was gay, taken, or a bad boy, as my aunt called them.
“What could you possibly do for me?” Bran asked.
“The Killeans are a powerful magical family, Ryan. They don’t need you any more than I do,” I said.
“Maybe he’s strong enough to make me invisible. The police never saw me enter, but they don’t have to see me leave either. And make it last for a while so I can get far away.” Ryan nodded.
“I’m sure Ms. Crestwood is strong enough to render you invisible. She has her reasons for keeping you around. Maybe you’d run to the police or get her in trouble, somehow.” Bran shook his head at Ryan.
Then, Bran snapped his fingers. Ryan passed out right there on the floor.
“Why did you do that?” I asked.
“I was bored with him. He’s a user. He thinks he’s noble, but the only hunters I trust are gypsies, like your uncle. These types are in it for the kill.” Bran looked down his nose at Ryan.
“I felt the same way, but my uncle brought him here. I couldn’t say no. And then, the customer thing happened. I don’t need him being caught by the police or followed back here if he needs something. He’ll make it worse, even if I made him permanently invisible,” I said.
“Then, you should keep him locked up. A human with a superiority complex is more dangerous than an untamed vampire.” Bran stared at my legs, again.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company.” I tugged my sweater lower to try and cover the goofy pajama pants. “My cousins and I have very different styles. But I can’t hurt their feelings.”
“Those are not from Esmeralda.” He laughed.
His booming laugh sent a rush through me. “No, not Esme. My uncle’s children. I was raised by my aunt and uncle. They have a set of twins, only eighteen, now. I got these a couple Christmases ago. Appropriate for a single girl or a single witch.”
“Still searching for Prince Charming? There has to be a better story than that.” He stepped over Ryan’s limp body. “Tell me.”
“I’m the boss here, Mr. Killean, not you. Brad will get you another drink of your choice on the house for the trouble. I’ll get Ryan down to a cell,” I said.
“I don’t need a free coffee. I need to know about the frogs,” he said.
I almost turned around and snapped at him. But there was a longing, a sadness about him that made me pause. “You tell anyone, and I’ll deny and make you pay.”
He didn’t look scared. But if he knew Esme, he knew how powerful I was. My guess was he was one of her choices for me.
“Promise,” I said.
“Who would I tell?” he asked.
“Senior prom. My date was just a guy who asked me. I wasn’t dating him. I didn’t know him well, but it meant so much to my aunt that I go. Have the prom experience and all the pictures. It made her happy. He was all hands and lips. Like I was supposed to sleep with him because it was prom. I turned him into a frog on the ride home and sent the limo back to his parents’ house like that.” I shrugged.
“He stayed that way for how long?” Bran asked.
“A couple hours at least. His parents were freaking out. They thought he’d been kidnapped. They put the frog in the yard. I swore up and down he was fine when he dropped me off. A perfect gentleman, which was a lie. But I wasn’t going to any after parties with him. I hinted he may have gone drinking with a few friends after he dropped me off. Finally, he turned human in the backyard. Naked. He was confused. His parents thought he’d gotten plastered and went wild with his friends. They grounded him for a week.” I couldn’t hide my smile.
“Transfiguration at that level. Of a human. For that long, impressive for a seventeen year old,” he said.
“My aunt was mad at me. Exposure. Do no harm. Sometimes, I can’t help myself, but I try not to use my powers without thinking it through.” I looked down at Ryan. “I don’t trust him enough to let him loose, yet.”
“Trust those instincts. We’re at war with humanity in some ways. We can never forget that,” he said.
I shook my head. “My aunt and cousins have no powers. Esme does, of course, but my uncle is a human gypsy. I don’t want to fight humans.”
“I don’t either. But if they knew the full extent of our world, we would be at war. We’re more powerful than they are.”
“Yet we don’t seek to dominate them,” I said.
“Evolution has its advantages. But I do appreciate your work here. Your involvement with humans keeps us all informed. It’s a great service, and if I can be of help to you, just call.” He handed me a card.
“I don’t inform you of anything.” I took the card anyway.
“Esmeralda does. What’s necessary. There is a network of information. We appreciate it.” He looked around. “It’s a lovely shop.”
“What do you do?” I asked.
“My family owns several businesses,” he said stealthily.
“That makes you a Soprano? Is there a paranormal mob? I never heard of that,” I said.
He laughed. “No? Well, I suppose, if there was one, we’d be it. If you cross my family, you’ll pay. Much like, if someone crossed you, he’d be a frog.”
I felt my cheeks burn. “I can do a lot worse, now.”
“I’m sure of it. We own a funeral home. A car dealership. A lawn and snow service company. A yarn and craft store my aunt insisted on that is actually turning a profit.”
“That’s convenient. Pick what you want to do, and the family buys you a business.” I knew they had money, but that’s big, big money.
“Not quite. You have to pay your dues working in a family business and make a proposal for a new one. We make our money honestly; we always have. Invest it wisely. We don’t bother others, and they don’t bother us. We do deal with humans as customers, so I understand, but we tend to use magic to resolve things quicker. Your approach is unique.”
“It sounds so calm.” I envied him.
“Y
our life sounds like an adventure. I hope your human death case is resolved.” He finished his coffee and tossed the cup in the trash.
“Thanks. I’m trying to solve it myself, but doing things the human way sucks.” I rubbed my neck. “I need to get this one locked up and get back to bed. I need more than a catnap.”
“Of course. But if you had something from all the suspects, you could scry for the killer,” he suggested.
“I could. But getting an item isn’t easy. And with more than one person in a location as a suspect, it would only help so much.” I shrugged.
“Do you need any help?” He pointed Ryan.
I chuckled and waved my hand. His limp body swiftly lifted off the ground. I guided him down the stairs and into a cell. I didn’t look back to see if Bran was impressed or not. He wasn’t what I expected from the Killean family. I’d heard they were snobs who looked down on families like mine, those with non-magical members. Also families that socialized with humans too much and willingly weren’t big with the paranormal royalty. My line was old and strong, but I couldn’t trace it back to Stonehenge. That stuff didn’t matter to me. The idea of Bran mowing a lawn or selling cars on his summer breaks from school made me smile. Maybe Esme had better taste in men than I’d given her credit for.
14
That morning, I had the same drink Bran had plus vanilla creamer. The caffeine jolt helped. It’d been hard to get back to sleep after such a weird first encounter. The PJs hadn’t helped, but I wasn’t a Goth girl. I didn’t sport a witch style all the time. Okay, the frogs were lame. But it was a gift and warm.
Today, I was in all black: big black boots that went to my knees, leggings that kept me warm and a black with gray trim sweater dress that came to the edge of the boots and down to my elbows.
“Why is Ryan locked up?” my aunt asked softly as she sat at my table.
“He tried to escape last night. Attacked some vamps. I don’t need him lashing out. I called Uncle Vinny. He’s supposed to come over today and help soothe the savage hunter.” I rolled my eyes.
“He wants you to make him invisible,” she said.
“He said that last night, too. No, I can’t trust him. I wish Vin wouldn’t associate with non-gypsy hunters. They go rogue too much.” I shook my head.
“Fine. I hope this case is over soon.” She went off in a foul mood.
I wasn’t in a better one. I had to meet the garden club today. I’d checked that the meeting was still scheduled, given that gardening wasn’t really popular in the winter. But they still met, so I was going. They had a room at the local social center, so it wasn’t like pushing in on Mrs. Reynolds in her home.
I watched the front. No Mr. O’Conner yet today, but it was early.
Esme sat across from me with a smug expression.
“What? Did you kill Ryan? I won’t tell. Give the body to the cops,” I said.
She pointed at me. “That’s the sort of dark humor that makes people worry about you. You’re normal some of the time and then sound positively evil.”
“It’s a quirky sense of humor. That’s all.” I shrugged and checked my messages on my phone.
“I heard that Bran Killean came by last night,” she said.
I nodded. “I guess he comes by a lot at night when I’m asleep. Ryan tried to run, so I had to deal with that.”
“Sounds like you made an impression,” Esme smiled.
“Froggy PJ bottoms and a bulky black sweater with winter boots. I’m sure I did.” I put his card information into my phone. “Who does cards, anymore?”
“Polite people. You don’t have to wait for someone to put in the info and repeat it ten times. You hand over the card, and they can input the info or not. You’re smart to keep him on file.” She grabbed the card. “He’s good looking.”
“If you’ve got your eye on him, don’t worry about me. Strictly paranormal connections.” I smiled.
“Really, Claudia. You bumped into one of the men I’d love to see you with. I knew he came here, but you don’t think I could’ve maneuvered Ryan to misbehave just when Bran was about to come in,” she said.
I sat back. “I didn’t say when Ryan acted up.”
“Of course you did. Or Brad did. Someone must’ve told me.” She waved it off.
“You did something. You put a spell on Ryan to act up when Bran came within so far of the shop?” I couldn’t believe it, but it made more sense than Ryan suddenly trying to run when he knew the vampires would stop him. He didn't have a weapon to take out the vamps. If he was serious about leaving, he’d have made a stake out of the old wooden crates we had in the basement.
Esme sighed. “Okay, fine, I did help a little. But Bran comes in so often. His aunt says how much he loves your place. The coffee, the service, and the feel of the place. I wanted you two to meet. And it’s cute you weren’t your perfectly pulled together self. You intimidate men.”
“If I do, then those men are weak. And I’m not always perfectly pulled together. Most of the time here, I wear jeans and a T-shirt for the shop with coffee stains on it.”
“Your hair is always perfect,” she said.
My black hair was thick and pin straight. “If I wanted it to curl, it wouldn’t be perfect.”
“That’s why you and Bran would be great for each other. You accept yourselves and try to help people. You’re not out trying to be something you’re not. Or pretending the world will hand you everything. Your generation has a lot of challenges, but you two weren’t coddled the way most kids your age were.”
I stared at her. “You think the twins were coddled?”
She nodded. “Your aunt never tried to change you. She guided you, raised you, but you were so like your mother and she missed her so letting you be you was more important. And you’d witnessed your mother’s death. You had scars she couldn’t erase. Trauma the twins couldn’t imagine, even now. It makes you stronger as a person. The magic, that’s impressive, too,” Esme said.
“Hardly impressive to you. But I keep trying,” I said.
“You impressed Bran. And he told his aunt already. She texted me. You need someone to push you and challenge you—that’s me. But your man should always admire you.” Esme checked her phone.
“You and his aunt. This is a full-on setup. He’s okay with that?” I asked.
“He’s a man. He thinks it’s all his idea. He ran into you, and you’re so this and that. He might have magic, but he’s still a lovable goofy man who thinks he’s the cleverest guy in the room.” She grinned.
“Then, I’ll tell him what his aunt is up to, and it’ll be done.” I picked up my phone.
Esme waved her hand and knocked my phone across the room.
“You break it, you buy me a new one,” I said.
A customer brought it over before I could go searching.
“Thanks; I’m a klutz today,” I said.
“It’s fine,” she said.
My phone rang, and Esme perked up.
I answered. “Hello, Detective Shelley,” I said.
Esme’s grin disappeared.
“Ms. Crestwood. I wanted to let you know that there was nothing found in the tox screen. No illegal drugs. No poison. Nothing, really. Her usual pain meds for arthritis and her sleeping pill, but nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve let Mr. O’Conner know, so hopefully, he will relax a bit on protesting your shop,” she said.
“Thanks. That makes me feel better. Nothing for the autopsy?” I asked.
“A couple more days. The ME was on vacation for the holidays, and so, we had a backup who was very green and slow. Then, all this cold weather, you get people dying while shoveling a drive. Or lifting salt bags into their truck. The results will be good; we just need to be a bit more patient,” she said.
“Thanks. Please let me know if there is anything I can do. Bye.” I ended the call.
“No poison. She wasn’t shot or stabbed. No one said anything about bruising.”
“Smothered,” Esme said.
> “That means someone had to get into her house,” I said.
“Well, you keep doing what you’re doing. Your aunt and I will deal with Ryan. But don’t be too hard on him,” she said.
“I won’t, now that I know it’s you. For the record, Bran knocked him out—magically. I levitated him down there. If he’s complaining,” I said.
“You and Bran sound like a good team,” she said.
“I’m leaving,” I said. I went over to Ellen, head barista on the shift. “Call if you need anything. If Mr. O’Conner shows up, call the cops. It’s not even going to hit zero today.”
“Gotcha, boss,” Ellen said.
“Don’t pick that up from the guys. They’re just weird.” I smiled. The vamps called me boss, and Ellen must be hanging around with them. She was a witch with enough powers that I didn’t worry about her as much.
“They’re different and cute,” she replied.
What was it about vampires? I saw nothing cute or hot about vamps or weres. Those were things that had been done to them. Someone turned them into a vampire or a werewolf. Okay, you could be born a werewolf, but that was rare. Witches and wizards had to work at their powers and grow them. I’d rather earn my powers than be a victim. I felt sorry for vamps and werewolves…but right now, I needed to help Mrs. O’Conner and find out who’d hurt her.
* * *
I strolled into the social center a few blocks away. There were several meeting rooms and a board listing all the groups and when they met. I felt very antisocial when I saw all of the groups. Book clubs, sewing clubs, and even a beginning Wiccan class that I had no knowledge of. I took a picture of that post with my phone, so I could follow up later on.
Putting that out of my head, I found the room for the garden club and slipped in. There were five women in the room, and they looked at me carefully.
“Can we help you?” asked one of them.
“Hi, I’m Claudia. I own the Witch’s Brew café. I understand Mrs. O’Conner was a member here?”
A few of the women exchanged looks, but one patted the seat next to her. “I’m Sara. Martha was a member. She had the most beautiful roses and exotic items. Do you garden?” she asked.
