Dead Witch Walking

by Nova Nelson

  I opened my mouth to respond, but I couldn’t put words to it yet. It didn’t take much effort for them to come tumbling out, though. “What if we’re a terrible match? What if the only thing that drew him to me was that I was Tanner’s girl? You know they had that weird competition going on. What if, after all that’s happened, I realize Donovan is actually the jerk he pretends to be, not the injured-but-kindhearted guy I hope he is? What if I go to dinner with him tonight, and we have nothing to talk about?”

  To her credit, she didn’t laugh at my rambling insecurities. Instead, her expression softened, and she stepped forward, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Then it’s okay,” she said. “This doesn’t have to work out. But, for what it’s worth, I don’t think what you’re worried about has any basis in reality. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Nora. Maybe the date will be awkward, but if you think that would stop him, you’re dead wrong. Not to poke at the past too much, but you dating his best friend didn’t even stop him.”

  I realized my shoulders were in a knot, and I took a deep breath and relaxed them. “You’re right. I guess I’m still just… I miss—”

  “I know. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to feel that and still move on.”

  She let her arm fall from my shoulder, and I took a sip of my end-of-shift coffee.

  “So,” she said, “I know this is your first date, but have you two… you know?” A sly smile spread across her face.

  I nearly spit out my coffee. “Jane!”

  She held up her hands in a defensive posture. “What? I was there at the fireworks show. I saw the way you two were acting on that blanket, and it wasn’t lost on me that the pair of you snuck off together. I just figured, after all the waiting…”

  “No,” I said, putting a swift end to her speculation. “He just walked me home, and that was it. I didn’t invite him inside or anything. Sheesh, Jane. What kind of a woman do you take me for?”

  “A smart one,” she said. “Which is why I assumed you wouldn’t let a moment with that hot East Wind slip through your fingers again.”

  I rolled my eyes, and put my back to her so she wouldn’t be able to glean any more from my expression.

  But my face grew hot, and my stomach clenched just thinking about that night…

  Donovan had walked me home, and he hadn’t come inside—that was all true.

  And the rest was none of Jane’s business.

  She didn’t need to know about how he whispered goodnight, his lips only inches from mine. And she didn’t need to know about how badly I wanted to invite him up. And she didn’t need to know about how, in a moment of synchronicity, our bodies crashed together before he grabbed my wrists and pinned me against the front door in the darkness, or about how I could taste his passion on his lips, the way chills ran down my spine as he painted ravenous kisses down my neck…

  And she especially didn’t need to know how we both tumbled inside and he landed on top of me when Ruby opened the door, after assuming the staggered thuds against it were a visitor banging for entry.

  Ruby’s cursing when she’d realized what was really happening on her front porch had pretty much killed the moment, and we hadn’t had another one since.

  Grim gagged like he had a hairball lodged in his throat, and I blinked to clear the memory. “You okay, boy?”

  “You mean outside of being awoken from a fantastic dream about hunting a pack of hidebehinds by the smell of your pheremones? You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?”

  “None of your business.”

  Grim crawled to his feet. “Come on, Monster. Time to leave before we both choke to death.”

  I’m not sure if it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn Tanner’s familiar was glaring at me as she rode past on Grim’s back.

  * * *

  I can’t even say where my mind was when I stepped out of the delicious warmth of Medium Rare and into the blistering February cold. It wasn’t unusual to feel like something was watching me from the edge of the Deadwoods only a few hundred yards away, but today it felt especially likely. Maybe it was just what Ted had said about impending death that had my hackles up. Or maybe it was that Grim had left without me so I was alone when I usually had him by my side. Or maybe it was something more.

  My Insight prickled. Was I getting myself worked up… or was I sensing the same thing Ted had?

  I hugged my coat around me tighter and started for home, listening carefully for any small shuffle that might be a precursor to someone or something rushing up on me.

  I was hardly two blocks from the diner when I did hear something on my right and whipped my head around to look. It was hardly more than a shadow that disappeared quickly behind the Ram’s Head Inn.

  But if I wasn’t going crazy—a possibility that I’d be the first to say was not entirely implausible—I’d swear I’d just caught a glimpse of a giant hellhound.

  That couldn’t be, though. The hellhounds didn’t leave the Deadwoods.

  Grim did, said a tiny voice in my head.

  Insight, is that you? I replied.

  Ted had mentioned the possibility of another grim coming into existence. Was that what had happened? Was that the death he had sensed, a hellhound rising from its grave?

  Or maybe it was just a shadow, a trick played on me by a passing cloud.

  I looked up at the sky, which was completely overcast.

  Okay, but still, it could have been anything.

  At least that’s what I told myself as I scrambled away.

  Chapter Three

  Fifteen minutes before the knock on the front door of Ruby’s parlor, I’d run out of ways to primp and therefore preoccupy myself.

  Magical shower? Check. Clean pants and a baby-blue sweater? Check. Brush teeth? Check.

  Aaaand… that was about it. I’d considered putting on makeup just to have something to do with my hands, but then I remembered I didn’t have any. They certainly sold it in Eastwind, but it’d never occurred to me to buy any. Sure, I’d had some back in my old life, but even then I was never big on it. Maybe a little coverage of some of the redder parts of my face and a few strokes of mascara, but who had time for all the rest?

  So, since makeup wasn’t an option, I did a very Ruby-esque thing and filled the space by making tea. I scooped so much of her dried lavender into the mix that I made a mental note to swing by the Pixie Mixie the next day to refill her stores.

  But once I heard the knock, I breathed a sigh of relief and answered the door.

  There he stood, tall, jaw-droppingly gorgeous, and mine for the taking. A modest grin spread across his lips as he took me in through those ice-blue eyes. Then he paused, his dark eyebrows pinching together, and he leaned to the side to look past me. “Are you sacrificing lavender bushes in there or what?”

  “Oh, um…”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” he added, “I love the smell.”

  I grabbed my overcoat from the hook and slipped it on before stepping out and closing the door behind me. “It’s nothing.”

  Just that I haven’t been this anxious about a boy since I was fourteen.

  It was already dark outside as I stepped onto the porch, and in the light of the streetlamps, small flurries of snow fell silently. I turned back to him, and my heart nearly leaped into my chest.

  He was looking right at me. “You look beautiful.”

  For a moment, I wasn’t sure we’d make it off my porch at all, let alone all the way to the restaurant. Thoughts of the last time we’d stood on this doorstep together flooded my brain like a drug.

  “Thanks.”

  “I mean it. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  I chuckled. “Too much. Now I know you’re lying.”

  Rather than denying it, he, too, chuckled and motioned with a sweep of his arm for us to head out.

  I can’t say I wasn’t grateful for the cold, because it meant the question of holding hands was out. I stuffed my fists straight into the poc
kets of my coat, and so did he—his coat, not mine. That would’ve been weird.

  You’re such an idiot. Since when does holding hands give you anxiety?

  But being with him did make me feel a little like I was back in high school. Everything seemed new again.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, realizing I’d forgotten to eat since breakfast.

  “Straight back to my place,” he said.

  I jerked my head around to look at him, and he laughed. “I’m kidding. Although, if you’re into it…”

  “You’re not getting out of buying me dinner, so stop trying.”

  He relented. “We’re going to Luna’s Den.”

  “I haven’t heard of it.”

  “Of course you haven’t. It’s in Hightower Gardens and it only accepts three reservations a night. I had to book it six weeks out.”

  I did some quick mental math. “Wait. That was back in December.”

  He shrugged. “I dunno what to tell you.”

  “And if, you know, I hadn’t gone along with your proposal on New Year’s Eve?”

  “I would have had a lovely dinner alone. Wouldn’t have been my first.”

  I nudged him with my shoulder. “You’re such a victim,” I teased.

  “I like to see myself as a survivor,” he quipped. “Sometimes, it just takes waiting it out until you get your chance at what you want.” He seemed to realize what he’d just implied, and he quickly added, “I don’t mean I was trying to outlive Tanner or anything. You know I never wanted that to happen, and I was happy with Eva. Or, well, I didn’t stop thinking about you, but I was also—”

  He’d stopped walking as he stammered through his explanation. I pulled my hand out of my pocket and put it on the sleeve of his navy blue wool coat. “It’s okay. I get it.”

  I met his eyes and he nodded. “I know you do. I’m sorry.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, which part he was sorry about.

  Without thinking, I moved toward him and did something completely foreign to us.

  I kissed him softly, slowly. Just once, then I pulled back, feeling a bit tipsy.

  He hadn’t even had enough notice to pull his hands from his pockets by the time I stepped back. His eyes cut into mine, but he didn’t say a word.

  And then we continued on to Hightower Gardens, the soft hush of the snow making it feel as if we were the only two people in the entire world.

  * * *

  I could tell immediately that Donovan had never actually been in Luna’s Den. He seemed as shocked as I was to discover the intense intimacy of the place.

  They only accepted three reservations a night because there were only three tables, and while each had its own small nook for privacy, the general decor seemed like it would be more appropriate at a high-priced brothel than in an establishment where people ate.

  The host greeted us with a nod and didn’t even ask for a name before taking our coats and leading us to our table.

  It was low to the ground, much like the one Donovan kept in his home. And similar to that, we were to sit on the ground. Only, these weren’t individual cushions, but one semicircle that seemed intended for both parties to snuggle up close.

  Not a family establishment, clearly.

  I’ll admit, my mouth fell open just a little bit when I saw the accommodations. But at least I didn’t burst into laughter like he did.

  The host looked alarmed. “Is everything okay, Mr. Stringfellow?”

  He struggled in vain to compose himself. “Yes. Everything is great. I’m sorry. I just… thought of something funny that happened earlier today.”

  The host didn’t buy it, but he wasn’t paid to do that, and he simply nodded and left us to settle in.

  “Is it the red fringe?” I asked, adjusting my backside into a comfortable position on the cushion.

  “I swear I didn’t know it was like this inside,” he said, struggling to catch his breath. “I knew it was nice, but this looks like…” He didn’t put exact words to it.

  The honeymoon suite of a Vegas hotel, I thought. Not cheap, per se, but not especially classy and sophisticated. And our table was the heart-shaped hot tub of tables. Of course he wouldn’t get the reference at all.

  “What kind of food do they serve?” I asked. The host hadn’t left any menus.

  “Wisconsin-style steaks, mostly.”

  “I have no idea what that means here.” If I were back in my old realm, I would assume that meant there was some sort of cheese involved. But the Wisconsin everyone in Eastwind knew and (some) loved wasn’t a state but a world just off of Avalon, run by weres. It was where Jane and Ansel had honeymooned. I’d assumed it was just forestland out there where they could shift and run wild, but maybe it also had a few Vegas-like establishments that echoed this style.

  “It means you’re about to have the best steak of your life,” he said. “You know, as long as you don’t mind it rare.”

  While I preferred my steaks medium rare, if I was in good culinary hands, I was willing to try it another way. “Rare can be delicious.”

  When the waitress approached, she smiled at us and welcomed us. Then, she recited the daily menu. My culinary heart nearly exploded. This was one of those steak houses, the kind where they practically worshipped meat and presented it like an offering to the gods. I could almost see a great cut simmering in its own fine juices, could already taste it falling apart like butter in my mouth.

  By the time the waitress finished listing off the specials, I was so convinced she knew her stuff that I would have trusted her with my life… which is kind of what you’re doing every time you step into a restaurant and allow someone else to cook for you. (I tried not to think about that too often.)

  When she suggested a wine to pair with our meals, I immediately said yes, and she nodded and left.

  My eyes met Donovan’s and he nodded. “This is going to be amazing.”

  It was the strangest thing. Instantly, I knew he understood just how amazing. Was he… a secret foodie?

  “And you say you’ve never been here before?”

  “Never. Never had occasion.”

  I tilted my head to the side and delivered a stern glare. I didn’t want to say Eva’s name, so I hoped he’d get the point without it.

  He did. “Fine, fine. But I don’t think she would have liked it. She was a vegetarian before she came to Eastwind.”

  My mouth fell open. “What?” I’d seen her eat meat at work multiple times. Maybe Medium Rare’s food was just that good.

  Or maybe she thought it was time for a change. To be fair, all the meat in Eastwind is produced in a much more ethical manner than back home. No cramped cages, no hormone injections. Granted, there’s probably a bit of magic involved, but no one seems worried about it, and I don’t know enough about it to raise objections.

  “Yeah,” he said. “She made me promise not to tell, but I guess it’s fine now.” The corners of his lips wilted into a frown.

  Had he been in love with her? I hadn’t ever heard them say it, but they also weren’t the type to do that in public.

  I reached out on instinct and grabbed his hand. “I won’t tell anyone about Eva’s dark secret.”

  He broke into a dumb grin before he could force it back into place. When he laughed, so did I, and once again, the unspoken words “I understand because I’m in it, too,” passed between us.

  I could go on about the wine and the steaks, but suffice it to say that even as we tried to savor each mouthful, neither lasted long. With empty plates in front of us, we ordered a second bottle of wine. The glass dangled casually in my hand as I sipped on it, musing about how this night was already great and held the promise of getting much, much better once we left. “So, you know of any other great restaurants we should check out soon?”

  He cocked his head to the side and arched a brow as he inspected me. “You trying to snag a second date with me, Nora?”

  “I’m trying to get you to pick up the checks f
or my tour de forks, yes.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough. I guess I should take what I can…” He paused and his nose crinkled. “Do you feel that?”

  Not only could I feel it, but I could also see it. The female spirit was nestled up so closely at Donovan’s side that I worried she might be about to slip inside him and possess my hot date.

  “Yes, I feel that,” I said, addressing him before glaring at the female interloper. “Not cool. Paws off.”

  “I like seeing you a little territorial,” Donovan said.

  The spirit flipped her long, silky hair behind her shoulder, and wound her arms around one of Donovan’s. Even in the dim light I could see his arm hair stand on end where he’d pulled up the sleeves of his light gray sweater. “What are you going to do, necromancer?” the spirit taunted.

  “First of all, that term is outdated and a little offensive. It’s ‘Fifth Wind’ now. And second, I’ll banish you. I’m not playing tonight, woman. I’ve got a belly full of rare steak and red wine, and if you think that isn’t a recipe for throwing down, you got another thing coming. We can talk later, but for now, get lost.”

  The ghost was beautiful, and when she pouted her lips, it looked more sultry than childish. “You haven’t even heard what I have to say.”

  “How long have you been dead?”

  “Depends. What year is it?”

  I told her.

  “Eighty-eight years, then.”

  Nodding, I said, “Fantastic. Then you can wait one more day.”

  We locked eyes, and finally it seemed to get through to her that I wasn’t kidding.

  Her sweet girlish voice lowered when she said, “I could possess him, you know. So, so easily…”

  She must really have been a piece of work when she was alive. Probably uber-wealthy, used to getting her way. Wasn’t hard to imagine why someone might want to murder her. “I know you could. But then I’d just exorcise him and banish you to the depths without an ounce of remorse.”

  “What?” said Donovan. “Exorcise who? Me? Why is this being discussed?”

  The ghost scowled. “Not if I made him attack you first.”

  “You’ve made your point. If you don’t shut it, I will definitely not help you tomorrow.”