Chapter 5

Five

The picnic was a large green lunchbox with a thermos that set in the top, held in place by the handle.

And my date was a mildly confused carpenter.

He pulled his jacket on as he stepped out onto the boardwalk from the structure that currently used plastic sheeting as doors.

Eventually, it would house an old buoy. At the moment, Joshua and others were still finishing the structure and supports.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, a bright smile on his face.

"Johnny stole your lunch, repacked it, and sent me to share it with you." I hold up the hard plastic stand-in for a basket. "I think he might be orchestrating dates for more of you than just himself."

"For being an only child, he's pretty great at sharing." Joshua takes the box from me and nods toward the bench fifty feet down the boardwalk. "If we don't go over there, the guys are definitely going to try to eavesdrop."

I glance at the site and count five curious glances. "A teensy bit of privacy would be nice.

Joshua leads the way and lets me sit before opening up the box and setting the thermos aside.

"What is this?" I pull out the square tupperware with my name taped to the top and look at the contents.

"It's a butternut and black bean quinoa." Joshua says, shaking his head. "I think he made four different vegetarian recipes yesterday, trying to get it right."

"That's very sweet of him."

"I think these sweet potato tortillas are for you." Joshua hands me the small, flat bag and pops the lid on his lunch.

"What did he make you?"

"He didn't. This is the Cuban sandwich I packed myself this morning."

"He could have at least done something special."

"Well, he sent you to me, so I've got no complaints." His lips twist in a smile that makes me want to lean over and kiss him.

But not here. Not when I know there are at least spectators from the job site.

Not when Mrs. Miller and any of her knitting circle could be waiting to jump out and cry foul.

"I don't think any of us have asked… are you a full-time witch?" Joshua's words are quiet, no one will hear him, and he takes a bite of his sandwich, looking out over the gray harbor.

"Yep."

"Does something like that pay well?"

Chase might only know how to make pancakes, but Johnny… I get so distracted by the food that I have to mentally backtrack to what Joshua asked.

Luckily, with a mouth full of food, I have time to chew and think about how I should answer that… and the only conclusion I make is: truthfully.

"Not at all." I have to laugh when his brows pinch and a worried scowl covers his face. "Luckily, an income has never been an issue. I happen to be gloriously independently wealthy."

I say it with just enough mockery in my tone that he laughs.

"But seriously, my grandmother left me a lot more than her land and house when she died. It lets me do as I please… and that is a blessing."

"And what pleases a bored, rich witch."

I know I probably shouldn't, but I say, "Four delightful werewolves."

For a moment, I do consider leaning over and kissing him. This time, it's the food, not the potential spectators that stop me.

And it's probably a good thing.

"Scarlette?"

I look up, a little confused at the tone in Anthony's voice. Less confused by the glare he's turned on Joshua.

"Hi Anthony," I pause and ask a question I already know the answer to. "Have you met Joshua?"

Jaw set, Anthony finally peels his gaze away from the man beside me. "I have not.

"Anthony Wexxon, this is Joshua Dean." I turn to Joshua, "Anthony runs a shop down the boardwalk where I purchase some of my supplies."

When Anthony stiffens, I realize what he must think.

He's not powerful enough to sense what Joshua is and unlike me, he didn't grow up surrounded by those who could teach him what signs to recognize.

To Anthony, Joshua is just a normal man. One who knows I'm a witch.

But I'm not about to out any of the guys to someone who might try to exploit what they are… or worse, accidentally tell someone else about them who could do far worse.

"Joshua is working on the buoy installation." I nod toward the fluttering plastic.

"I see."

"And Scarlette was kind enough to bring me lunch today."

Jaw flexing, Anthony's gaze is cold.

I don't need Anthony ruining this.

"Did you need something?"

When his attention snaps back to me, he smiles, looking a little sheepish and he angles himself in a way to cut Joshua out of the conversation.

"I had hoped to catch you. My new stock comes in tonight and I thought you'd like to go through it with me. I can open a bottle of wine we might…

He lets the end of that sentence linger suggestively. And I consider pretending I've misunderstood him. Making a joke about not working for him would only prolong this ridiculous display.

"I would have thought it was obvious that my time is accounted for right now."

When he doesn't look like he understands, I calmly, and firmly, say, "This is a date."

Thankfully, a quick glance to my left shows me Joshua's smiling.

"You can't be serious." Anthony sputters.

"I assure you I am."

"With your lineage?" His words are almost a hiss, they're such a sharp whisper. "Your family doesn't want to see you with a normal human."

I'm honestly shocked speechless.

It's a miracle that when I find the words, they aren't "What the fuck."

I manage to compose myself, letting the silence linger just long enough he feels awkward.

"I think you should leave, Anthony. Aside from the fact you're wrong about what my family does and doesn't want. If they cared about my partners' magical abilities, you would not pass their measurements."

Anthony jerks upright eyes sharp with offense.

But he doesn't deserve an apology after that nonsense. Lineage and magical bloodlines… utter nonsense. A witch's powers were passed through the matriarchal line. A person's father could be as powerful or as weak as possible… and it would not change the outcome of the power passed on through their mother.

Clearing his throat, Anthony blinks at me and then shoots another glare Joshua's way before he stalks back toward his shop.

"It's strange…" he says, finishing his sandwich. "Being so much bigger than you and not needing to protect you at all…"

"If you guys weren't… special, you wouldn't think I was small."

"Do you think he'd react better or worse if he knew I'm not ‘just a human'?"

"I'd rather not find out at all."

Joshua snaps his empty sandwich container closed and sets it back in the box, offering me coffee from the thermos. I decline and he takes my finished dishes, slipping them into the lunch box before sliding the thermos back inside.

"So, ex boyfriend?" Joshua guesses as he watches Anthony walk halfway down the boardwalk.

"He's hinted at putting in an application, but he hasn't even gotten an interview."

"Are you saying that dating you is a job?"

"It probably feels like it."

"And where does one find these applications? I know none of us want to be disqualified on a technicality."

I laugh and shake my head at him. "If you want one, I can probably come up with something."

"Only if you'll hold it against us later." He pulls me to my feet and tugs me in the opposite direction of the one Anthony went in.

We pause briefly by the plastic sheeting, and he sets the lunch box down before pulling me close and heading for the structure his crew finished a few months ago.

I know he prefers the fun, fancy stuff, but walking through the scaffolding—constructed out of reclaimed bridge pilings—this space feel like something found, not constructed.

Joshua pulls me to a stop, backing me up to one of those pillars and takes my lips.

It is an unhurried kiss, a languid and searching press of our mouths, and I grip his lapels, holding him tightly to me.

When he pulls back, it's with a reluctant growl, and the loss of his warmth makes me shiver.

"The laws you make me want to break…" He shakes his head and gives me a reluctant laugh.

It makes me tip my head back and blow out a breath. Because it would be easy to throw up an obscuring glamor and participate in a little public indecency.

But there are habits I don't need to start.

My head is still tipped all the way back when I see it.

A small bundle peeking out from the space between two of the supports.

It could easily have been mistaken for a bird's nest, but…

I reach up—glad I wore gloves—and snag the thing by its head. Dragging it down, I'm surprised at just how long the skirt is.

Dolls have always had their place in magic… corn husk, voodoo, poppets…

But this one doesn't feel like any I've encountered before, because it's something else in the shape of a doll.

It's the wrong kind of magic tied up into a form it wasn't meant to take.

"What is that?"

"It's a warnaway."

"Is that a kind of voodoo doll or something?"

"Not quite."

I turn the doll over in my hands, looking for any sign of who, specifically, put it there and why. But there's nothing familiar. It's not the sea witch—her magic is strong enough she doesn't need these kinds of tools… The hedge witches in the area steer clear of town as much as they possibly can…

"They're not usually shaped like dolls."

"So, what do they do?"

"They're meant to be placed in plain sight. A sort of ill omen that makes certain people or things stay away. Usually you can tell what they're warding off by what they're made of."

"Do you think it's Wexxon's?"

"No. If he'd made this, it would have been with materials from his shop, and it would have been sloppy. The man lacks all finesse."

"Another mark against him."

I look up and try not to smile as I give him a sharp gaze. "There are no marks when you're not in the competition."

"I'll be honest… witches felt like a storybook fantasy until you showed up on our door…" His lips twist in a smirk. "And now they feel like a different kind of fantasy."

"Most things are real, to one extent or another."

His brows lift. "Vampires?"

"Yes, though they're not like the ones you'll find in romantic novels."

"Mermaids?" He glances at the gray water.

"Yep, but they're vicious creatures who'll eat you if they get half a chance. A lot of the negative press for Sharks is actually because of Mermaids."

"Unicorns?"

That makes me laugh. "Sadly, to my knowledge, they are not real. But we can always hope."

I let out a small sigh as I pinch a strand of the grass skirt between my fingers. "This is… powerful."

But it's not the initial magic that gave it its power. That is building. A slow magic gathering from the elements around it.

"Should you get rid of it?"

I turn the thing over in my hand again, feeling it.

"No." If I do that, the witch that put it here would notice. And it might be the same one who placed that tracking spell around the town too. I need to figure out who they are before I do anything that might draw more attention. "It's powerful, but it's also pretty harmless. A protection spell by any other name…" I don't think it's anything more.

I look at the old tug boat the scaffolds hold up. "It's probably meant for one of the fishermen who dock on the other side of this pier."

Not quite sure it's the right thing to do, I tuck the warnaway back into its place and lace my fingers in Joshua's. "I think our time is almost up."

"Almost." But he doesn't move. "And hopefully not for long."

He takes my hand, pulling it up and presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist-that sliver of skin between my glove and coat sleeve. I shiver at the contact.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Research." I smile ruefully. "There's some strange stuff popping up, that warnaway included. One of the things that doesn't pay well is keeping us all safe… more than that, keeping everyone who shouldn't know about this stuff in the dark."

Humming, he pulls me to him again. "I do like what we get up to in the dark."

"We could get up to more in the daylight…"

With a groan, he says, "I could get away with it, but, I'm the boss… have to set an example for others to follow."

He rolls his eyes with a little head shake.

"You forget… I had to watch you guys for a while to be sure. You can pretend you want to play hookey, but you love your job, and you can't convince me otherwise."

"It has nothing to do with my job and everything to do with how tempting you are."

"Don't spend too much time researching. I want to see you again soon. And I'm not the only one."

"I'm not going anywhere."

And we didn't for another five minutes. But once we'd untangled, I went home. Any plans I'd had to check in at Wexxon's had flown straight out the window after that unfortunate interaction.

"Speaking of unfortunate interactions…" I say to myself as I catch sight of the message in the ephemera glass.

It's never a fun call when my mother sends a "call me when you get this" note.

She wants me home for whatever she has to say.

I dial the number and put her on speaker. There's no one else around to hear whatever it's going to be this time.

"It is about time!" My mother says in lieu of an actual greeting. " Why did I have to hear that you're seeing someone from Anthony Wexxon of all people?"

"I didn't realize you had a spy in my midst."

She tuts her tongue. "It's not like that and you know it. He was concerned about you telling secrets to a plain human. And frankly, I thought you knew better. You can't have been seeing him long, if I haven't heard of him before."

"You're right, it is very new. But… he's not human."

"Not human?" My mother's voice fades, and I let her take a split second to get scared. Hopefully, whatever she imagines, would get me a worse reaction than the truth.

"He's a werewolf." I purse my lips at the silence. "Actually, I'm feeling things out with the whole pack."

"Scarlette." There's a pause. "You know that's dangerous. They are volatile creatures. When they spend too much time in a wolf's skin… that bleeds over into the days they pretend they aren't monsters."

I don't argue with her that they're not monsters. That would only make her more obstinate.

Not that what I'm about to relay to her will calm her down.

"Actually, I took care of that on Saturday night."

"How would you—" The sharp inhale tells me she connected the dots. "You didn't."

"I did. They won't change unless I make them."

"No." My mother's words are low, and for the first time in my life, I think she might be scared.

"If you had talked to me about this before you did it… Scarlette," She says my name so quietly, I almost don't hear it. "If you're not careful, they will grow to resent you for the power you hold over them… And if they decide to take back their wolves and the worst happens. I do not relish the idea of what I will have to do to them."

Because that was one of the things I didn't tell them. The dangerous aspect of the spell.

"If they take them back, you are not to harm a hair on their bodies. Do you understand me?"

"That is not a promise I will make." There's a tapping that's too familiar to second guess. She's drumming her long nails on the table. "But I will do everything I can to keep this from the rest of the coven. If they think you're trying to draw power from them…"

"It's not about power, mother. It's about protection."

"I highly doubt they will see it that way."