I replied silently for him to shut up.
“You let me get attached,” Zoey said. She wiped at one eye.
“You care about Corvin,” I stated plainly.
“He’s like the creepy little brother I never knew I wanted.”
“He’s a special kid,” I said.
She frowned. “Being an only child sucks!”
I had a few responses go zipping through my head, but I was smart enough to keep them to myself.
“They can’t move away,” she said. “They can’t. We won’t let them. Tell Mr. Moore you did a spell, and you can see the future. Tell him there’s something terrible coming, some big, horrible thing, and it’s going to happen if they leave. A big apocalypse thing.”
Gently, I said, “I can’t tell them that.”
“Then you have to cast a spell that makes them want to stay! Talk to your friends and get Mr. Moore’s job transfer canceled.”
“I can’t do that, Zoey.”
“It’s only fair. He’s the one who got you a job here. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t be here. It’s only fair that he has to stick around.”
“And don’t you remember how that felt? To have someone else messing around with your destiny?”
“So what? It all worked out. You got over it. You’re not mad at him anymore.”
I took a breath and said nothing. The conversation was spiraling out of control, and not even the wittiest comment could save us.
She crossed her arms. “What good is being a witch if you can’t fix the things that are wrong and make them right?”
Her words resonated with me. She could have left out the word witch and used adult instead.
She was only sixteen, only just learning about how the world worked, and how being an adult, witch or otherwise, didn’t give a person that much more power than being a kid.
And what was wrong or right, anyway?
I thought of the beautiful goddess, one of the Four Eves. Mahra.
We’d changed her fate.
With the speedy snip of a pair of bolt cutters, she had been sent back to whatever time and place she’d tried to enter our world from. Had that been right of us, to treat her appearance as a wrong? Sure, she’d killed Temperance Krinkle by that point, but it could be argued that Krinkle willingly sacrificed herself.
What would Mahra have done if she’d been allowed to walk the earth in these modern times?
I would never know.
I looked into my daughter’s hazel eyes, at the hurt she held within, and I thought about us not as individuals, but as the next larger unit. Families.
The Moores.
The Riddles.
The Wonders.
Our lives crossed over and under each other in countless ways. There was no way of knowing which decisions would turn out to be wrong or right for an individual, their family, their community, or the world. What seemed right for an individual might harm the family, or vice versa.
All we could do was make the decision that seemed like the best one at the time, with what little information we had. And then hope for the best.
I didn’t try to explain that to my daughter. She was a smart girl, and she already knew.
We could talk about it another time, perhaps over a bucket full of croutons, popcorn, and Skittles.
Instead of delving into the philosophical, I offered a solution to the problem at hand.
“Maybe I could have our house talk to their house,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “And then the Moore house could grow a dungeon, and keep the Moores locked up until they’ve come to their senses and dropped this crazy idea about moving away.”
“Now there’s a good idea!” Her eyes had dried, and now she rubbed her cheeks clear of streaks.
“Or I could gather up all the ghosts I can find around town,” I said, picking up speed. “And send them to wherever the Moores are moving. The ghosts will be under strict orders to haunt the Moores until they come back here, where their Spirit Charmed witch friend can take care of them.”
Zoey gave me a weak smile. “I like this devious side of you.”
“I could coordinate something with the other local witches and jinx all the roads leading out of town so they all lead right back again.”
Zoey gasped as her bright hazel eyes widened. “That’s the answer,” she said. “I love it in movies when the roads out of town bring you right back again.”
I winked at her. “I shall speak to the local coven, and we’ll get to work right away.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Or... we could just let them go, as long as they promise to return regularly for visits.”
“And let all of my amazing witch powers go to waste?”
“It won’t be wasted. You can still solve murders, and kidnappings, and whatever happens next.”
I held out both hands. “What are you talking about? Between me, the coven, the DWM, and the new vampire detective watching over this town, all working together like a finely tuned machine, there shouldn’t be any more crimes. People are going to start behaving themselves around here.”
Zoey turned and peered into the big, wooden bowl which held only romaine lettuce and three croutons. “Uh-oh,” she said. “This salad isn’t very Caesar-like anymore.”
“Go ahead and eat those last three,” I said. “I’ll make another batch.”
As she was crunching on the croutons, the doorbell rang.
“Doorbell,” she said.
“Doorbell,” I replied.
In a sing-song voice, she said, “It’s your boooy-friend.”
“It’s still your job to get the door.”
“Right!” She ran out of the kitchen.
Chapter 36
THREE HOURS LATER
Dinner with the neighbors was over, and Bentley and I were alone together, sitting on a log and looking out over the sea. The sun was setting, and making its usual colorful painting on the sky.
The backyard barbecue with the Moores had been bittersweet. Just when I’d gotten used to having the Moore clan next door, they were leaving. And they all seemed thrilled about it, too.
I’d never, ever, ever seen Chet so relaxed. He’d been wearing sweatpants with a drawstring waist. Sweatpants! With a drawstring waist! I had to ask him to open a wine bottle using his shifter-wolf-claw trick, just to make sure it was really Chet and not his doppelganger. Chet, being as relaxed as he was, simply laughed at my request and flashed a whole hand full of claws.
Over grilled chicken and Caesar salad, we learned that he and Chessa had both been thinking about moving away for a while, ever since she’d come back from her coma. Each thought the other wasn’t interested, though, so they’d been afraid to bring it up. Both of them had good memories associated with the town, but not nearly as many as the bad ones. Chessa in particular was having a difficult time assimilating. She kept getting into fights with Chloe over how to raise the baby. The sisters had assumed Chessa’s gift would be simple, but nothing about the noble sacrifice had turned out simple at all.
It had given me a chill to realize that Chloe’s desire for a family was what had brought me to Wisteria, where I’d found more of my own family.
Chessa, unlike her two triplet sisters, who were just garden-variety gorgons, had the power to read minds. It had always been an issue for her, but since coming back, reading people’s thoughts had become unbearable. Every time she bumped into someone she knew, which, in a small town, happened frequently, she would be overwhelmed by their emotions, their pity, and their curiosity. She couldn’t blame townspeople. There were dozens of juicy rumors circling around about her year-long absence. People couldn’t stop thinking about it. Chessa would never be able to simply pop out and pick up a bag oranges at the grocery store like a regular person. Every time she showed her face, she had to see herself reflected in other people’s eyes. She kept having to revisit her most painful memories.
I couldn’t blame her at all for wanting to go somewhere new, somewhere she could be
anonymous.
One issue that held them back was Grampa Don. Both were wisely reluctant to drag the cranky senior away from the only home he’d known for decades. But then everything changed. It was Grampa Don who suggested, on the eve of Corvin’s return, that maybe it was time for the Moores to “get out of this crazy town for once and for all.”
They’d discussed the matter as a family late into the night, and came to a decision. They would be leaving. They planned to put the house up for sale immediately. Whether the house sold or not, they would move before the end of summer, so Corvin could start the school year in his new home.
And where was this new home?
London!
As in London, England.
The Department of Water and Magic had a branch there, which did not surprise me one bit. London was a perfectly logical place to have a secret underground organization run by supernatural beings. Having such a Department in our small town of Wisteria was the illogical place, or so it had seemed.
Over dinner, Bentley, Zoey and I learned more about our hometown and the unique structures beneath it. Wisteria and parts of Westwyrd, including Castle Wyvern, stretched over the magic equivalent of shifting tectonic plates. These plates, when they moved, didn’t cause earthquakes, but they did open up fissures and tunnels between worlds, and even through time itself.
Now, keep in mind, Grampa Don was the one who told us about the connections between the worlds. His memory wasn’t exactly the most reliable, so the story about the shifting tectonic plates might have been more bedtime story than actual geography. Besides, time travel wasn’t real. Even witches knew better than to believe in such—as my aunt would call it—tomfoolery.
I would miss the Moore family.
Except I would be glad to not have Chet Moore around, with his not-unattractive face that he shared with Archer Caine, and with his not-unattractive body that I still had too many borrowed memories of. My feelings toward him were complicated, to say the least. He’d deceived and manipulated me, and while I tried to play it cool and act as though I’d forgiven him, deep down I had not. I’d just learned to live with the complications.
Life would be easier for me if Chet Moore moved away. I would not miss him popping up in my life, sticking his nose in my business, and judging my parenting skills.
Also, I would be glad to no longer live in fear of Chessa. No more stress over bumping into her at a bad time, or reminding her of all the flirting Chet had done with me while she was in a coma. Some of Chet’s friendliness had been acting, but she and I both knew that some of it had been real. I didn’t want to test her jealousy, or feel her fury. My skull belonged on my head, and not on her chic white coffee table as a decorative candy bowl or other vessel of her choosing.
And, when I really thought about it, while I enjoyed some of Grampa Don’s antics, he’d never quite warmed up to me. And I didn’t care for his prejudice toward me and witchcraft in general.
Corvin might be the only one of the Moore family I would truly miss. With his round face and his big, spooky eyes. And the adorable way he would suddenly yell out inappropriate or offensive things. Oh, the number of times he’d screamed at me that I was a witch, or a ghost, or both. Priceless!
I would miss the little weirdo.
“That’s the third one,” Bentley said, startling me out of my thoughts.
“The third what?” I shielded the bright pink sky with my hand and peered out over the ocean. “Did you see a horn out there or something? Rumor has it there’s a narwhal shifter who lives in the area.”
He put his arm around my shoulders and hugged me to his side. “The third sigh,” he said. “I don’t want to be one of those boyfriends who’s always asking you if something’s wrong, but...?” He gave me a questioning look.
“Just thinking about how I’m going to miss Corvin.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Talk about a phrase I never thought I’d hear myself say.”
“No offense to the kid, who has grown on me, but I won’t be sad to see the backs of that family. I’ve seen how Chet Moore looks at you, when he thinks Chessa isn’t looking. And then I’ve seen how Chessa sees him looking, then looks at you.” He gave me a serious look. “That woman does want to use your skull as a candy bowl.”
I gasped. “I know! Right?” I waved one hand. “Nobody else believes me.”
“I believe you,” he said solemnly. “Maybe I didn’t before, but after having dinner with them tonight, I am one hundred percent convinced.”
“You’re not just saying that because you’re my boyfriend, and it’s your job to be supportive of your crazy witch girlfriend?”
“No. That woman is terrifying. And I’m saying that as an actual vampire. I’m hard to kill, as long as my head stays attached to my body, but I get the feeling that woman would pop my head off in a heartbeat.” He looked down and scooped some beach sand in one hand. “That’s one of two reasons why I’m glad you wanted to leave dinner early and go for a walk with me.”
“Is the other reason because you’re watching your figure and didn’t want to be tempted by dessert?”
He let the sand sift down through his fingers. “I can’t be tempted by cheesecake,” he said, as serious as ever. “Or donuts, or cookies, or even your croutons, which were very crunchy and good. Those things don’t tempt me.”
“Oh. Is that because of your, um, powers?” I could say the word vampire now, but I preferred not to.
“No.” He dusted the sand off his hands and turned to look at me. The sun finished setting just then. The orange drained out of the sky, leaving Bentley’s face a cool blue. His eyes were like mercury.
I asked, “Then why?”
He reached up and swept my hair out of my face and then tucked it behind my ear.
The light faded away. Day turned to night.
In a husky voice, he said, “Because lately, the only thing that tempts me is you.”
I started to protest that he was being way too romantic. Cheesy, even. Talking about how I was his only temptation? It was a bit much!
But then, I became intensely aware of my body, and the exact weight of my arms and legs, and where all my limbs were. I felt the angles of my posture as I sat on the log, and the fluttering of my dress along my sides.
I wanted to say something silly to dispel the dizzying effect Bentley had over me, the way he made me feel so weak in the places that were supposed to be strong, but I couldn’t say anything. My mouth wouldn’t obey, because all my mouth wanted to do was kiss him.
All I wanted to do was kiss him.
The world around us was blue, growing cooler, and I felt first my own heart racing and then his.
He had his hand in mine, pressed to his chest.
I felt like someone had cast a buoyancy spell on me, like I might float away.
He looked deep into my eyes, and before he could say anything even more romantic that might turn me all the way into jelly, I kissed him.
A giant sea monster could have emerged from the ocean right in front of us, and neither of us would have noticed.
We sat on the log on the beach, our bare feet in the warm sand, and we kissed each other until the stars came out, and then we held on to each other for warmth and kissed a while longer.
Chapter 37
PERSEPHONE DIAMANTE ROSE
WEDNESDAY MORNING
The night before she was due to return to her job at the Wisteria Police Department, Persephone Rose couldn’t sleep. She finally gave up on being well rested and got up at five o’clock. After giving her tiny rental cottage a deep cleaning, she made a hearty breakfast of poached eggs, crispy bacon, and a stack of waffles.
As usual, she saved the bacon for last, and was about to enjoy the first piece when there was a knock at the door.
It was her father, Rhys Quarry. He was wearing one of his terrible vintage salesman suits. It was brown and corduroy, with suede elbow patches, and she could have sworn she’d given away that exact suit to a charity drive the las
t time he’d come to visit.
“That suit,” she said by way of greeting.
He dusted off the hideous lapel. “Can you believe someone threw this out? I found it at a thrift store. It’s a near perfect replacement for my old favorite that mysteriously disappeared.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “How lucky.”
He shrugged. “Anyone can be lucky. All it takes is the right mindset. When Fate closes a door, she opens a window.” He lifted his nose and sniffed audibly. “I didn’t interrupt breakfast, did I?”
She nodded for him to come inside. “I’ll whip up some more waffles.”
He patted his stomach. “No need. I’m trying to cut back on carbs.”
She had no response to this new concept of her father cutting back on carbohydrates. For one thing, all of Persephone’s feelings about pancakes and waffles were inextricably linked to happy memories of her father making them and piling stacks on her plate. It was because of these happy associations that she’d taken the time to make waffles that morning. For another thing, her mind had switched back to worrying about returning to the WPD after the whole Krinkle debacle.
Inside the cottage, father and daughter filled mugs with coffee and took seats at the table across from each other. She thought about returning to the workplace where everyone thought she was an idiot who couldn't follow basic privacy and security rules.
After a comfortable silence, Rhys said, “Cheer up, my little shadow. It could have gone so much worse.”
She felt the breath hitch in her throat. As usual, her father had read her mind using his all-knowing parental powers. Hearing his sympathy and love nearly pushed her to tears. She’d been holding on for so long, but now she was weakening, giving in to those self-pitying feelings, and she hated that about herself.
She drowned her rising angst with a big gulp of hot coffee.
Her father asked, “So, where are we at?”
“Bentley thinks I’m an idiot, and Zara...” She blinked furiously and frowned at the pepper shaker on the table. “Zara hates me.”
Wisteria Witches Mysteries Box Set 3 Page 82
