Chapter 14

Fourteen

I wake up, alone, in Thomas' bed and stretch as warm sunlight filters through his window and across me. The sheets are warm, and so am I.

No noise makes its way to me from the rest of the house and when I roll to my side, the clock shows me it's almost ten.

Beside it, there's a note.

Don't make the bed.

Grabbing my phone I send him two words:

Why not?

Because you aren't going to be there when I get home, and I want the reminder that you were.

I chuckle as I tell him I'll do as he asks, and then, I pull on the shirt they left for me.

We spent the rest of yesterday piled together. Languid lovemaking broken only by naps, delicious food, and trips to the bathroom.

I feel like I should be sore. But all I feel is… loved.

The sunlight might be warm through the window, but the wood floors are not. I shiver as I walk down the hall to the kitchen.

Chase is at the table, eating cold cereal, his focus on a beat up book I have to assume is the same one Johnny was reading. But he looks up at me with a smile when I come in and sets it down. The spine is so broken, it stays open to his page all on its own.

"Is that Johnny's?"

"Yep. I try to steal them when he's got about a chapter left so I can read it real quick and spoil it for him."

"That's rude."

"But fun."

"I'll have to take your word for that."

There's a box of my tea on the counter beside a clean cup and spoon, and the kettle sits over a very low flame.

"What can I make you for breakfast?" Chase asks, sliding his hand around my waist and drawing me in for a kiss.

"I'll be fine with cold cereal."

"Well, we have sugar covered flakes, sugar covered squares, sugar covered rings, or… This weird stuff Johnny puts in his granola." Chase holds up a box and shakes it.

The roughly drawn racoon mascot of the brand isn't familiar, and the raisins in it make me shake my head.

"I'll do the sugar flavored rings." I say watching as he pulls out a bag of cereal from a pile of others in the cupboard over the refrigerator.

"Joshua got bananas and strawberries at the store yesterday, if you want to throw some of those on there too." He pulls open the fridge and offers me a hallock of the bright red berries.

"Sure."

He pulls out a cutting board and starts slicing. "Don't worry, I washed them earlier. We've seen way too many videos about worms in blackberries to ever consider diving straight in."

The kettle screeches before I can respond to that. And when I'm done with my tea, Chase has more fruit than I need cut up.

"Thanks."

He goes back to the table and puts the broken book on the chair beside him.

"It's a quieter when there's just one of you around."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No. It's nice having these lulls in between the storm that is ‘all of you all of the time.'"

"I'm not going to lie, I like having you all to myself in the mornings." His smile falters, just a little. "Thank you for fighting with your mom about our change years. Even if it was just about the spell."

"Your wolves protect me. I protect you. It's a nice little circle."

"Is that all it is?"

"No." I don't remind him that it would be easier if that was all it was. "I happen to be very selfish and wanting to keep you is highly motivating."

His lips offer a twitch of a smile, but he doesn't say anything, he dips his head and nips at my shoulder.

"What are you up to today?"

He shrugs. "Just some chores before work. And it's Monday, so I'll have to go in early."

"Are Monday's overly busy?"

"No, but it's when I do clean up from the weekend. Sometimes, that means I've got furniture to repair. I never really know until I get there."

"I feel like a bar is a high stress environment. Did you pick it on purpose?"

"I didn't choose the liquor life, the liquor life chose me." He chuckles and shakes his head. "It was one of those ‘path of least resistance' things. I started working there and then… it was just easier to take control of the place when the old man decided to sell than it was to start looking for a new job. There aren't a ton of those around here for someone like me. And the other buyer was a guy who wanted to turn the place into a coffee klatch. I had regulars begging me to buy it."

"They aren't a fan of the Pourhouse?"

"I take it you've never been to the Liberty?" He smiles when I shake my head. "Our bar is kind of designed for the guys who've never made it past the seventies. They're old, they're set in their ways. The come in for the cheap whiskey and complain every time I have to raise the price on Bud.

"The Pourhouse has too many options—craft cocktails are a sin—and the lights are too bright, the music too loud and the songs are all from the wrong era."

"Eventually they're going to die out and you'll have to adapt."

"Eventually, but not for a while." He finishes his coffee and goes to pour another cup from the pot. "What about you? What's on your to do list for the day?"

"Oh, I thought I'd finish breakfast and then commit some light criminal trespass."

He cocks a brow and I clarify. "If Mrs. Miller is out of the house for a while this morning, I'd like to slip in and take a quick look around. Nothing nefarious… just looking to have some questions answered."

"You're in luck. She just left for the grocery store."

"Really?"

He nods. "Do you need to run and get dressed?"

I do, and I do.

Gloves on, I whisper " Deschi", a simple spell to open the door and let myself into the dim interior of her home.

Mrs. Miller's house looks like it hasn't changed since the early sixties.

The carpet is a pristine green and brown shag. Her couch—a brown floral with yellow piping and yellow roses stashed in the pattern here and there—is covered in plastic and there's even a rain lamp beside the couch, but instead of the Grecian statue in its center, there's a brass depiction of Jesus.

But there's nothing in here that feels like she's been influenced by outside forces… other than maybe by her pastor.

In the quiet, I'm surprised she doesn't have a cat.

But there's no sign of life in this house right now.

If something's affecting the old woman, she's wearing it.

I creep further into the house. I should have turned around and left, but that warnaway bothers me. And I can't leave it in her window, not intact, anyway.

Creeping through the silent house, I half expect to find a mummified Mr. Miller in one of the chairs.

But it was just a simple old lady's home with a little too much lace and one more picture of Jesus than I'd expect.

If there had ever been a Mr. Miller, I couldn't find any trace of him.

The warnaway still sat in the front window, between the layers of gauzy white curtains.

The street out front is empty. Most people have already left for their jobs, so I'm not worried about being seen when I brush the filmy white fabric to the side.

The warnaway sits on the sill as if it faces inward, watching the goings on of the house.

Unlike the one at the boardwalk, this one feels… sinister.

And unlike the one at the boardwalk, I'm not going to let this one stay as it is.

Tearing it would be best, but I can't leave a mess.

I pull a tiny pair of scissors from my pocket.

The doll was made by banding the grass at the top to create a bulbous head and banding parts of what would technically be considered a skirt to form arms.

I snipped all three without touching the thing.

The relief I felt might have been my own ill-ease leaving now that it was just a pile of dead grass… or it could have been something more pervasive.

Only time had a chance of telling.

Resettling the curtain, I go back through the house as quickly as I can without disturbing anything. The less Mrs. Miller suspects the better.

But when I close her door, tapping the lock to turn the deadbolt, the house feels just as unwelcoming as when I first touched this door.

Sneaking back across the gap between their houses, I rejoin Chase in their kitchen.

"Find anything?"

"Only what I already knew was there."

His brows quirk, but he doesn't ask me what I meant. "You are a very popular woman. I think you've gotten twenty texts."

He nods toward my bag as it gives a muted buzz to prove him right.

"Another man might have snooped."

"Yes, but I'm not foolish enough to think you need even more than what you've currently taken on."

He closes up the dishwasher and sets it to run as I dig the phone from my purse.

There are only five texts, but the name on them isn't one I want to see.

Groaning, I consider ignoring her.

But she isn't going to go away.

Hey Scar!

We should totally get together today.

The weather is perfect!

I glance out the window to the drizzle. It is the perfect type of day to get cozy and chat with a friend. But we're not friends. I just don't know what she wants from me.

I know this great little coffee shop.

It's super chill. One of those places we can talk freely.

No one cares in there.

The fact that she hasn't named the place gives me even more pause.

Let me know if you're available today. I'd love to see you!

A minute later…

Ten? My treat.

Chase moves to stand in front of me, leaning on the island. "Do I need to tell someone to get lost for you?"

"No. But thank you." I put the phone on the counter beside him and step between his legs standing as close to him as I can, and sling my arms over his shoulders.

"It's just a witch who used to be in the coven. She's getting pushy about meeting up."

"Are you sure you don't want me to tell her to get lost?"

I nod and lean into him, just long enough to kiss him. "I can't avoid her forever."

Lips quirking as I take a step back—distraction is the last thing I need right now—he lets me go.

"Couldn't you do a—" he waves his hand wildly in front of his face "—and make her forget you even exist?"

"Not on another witch, and not on someone else without a very potent potion."

"I had been thinking… that would be a way to deal with the possibility someone could take away your wolves. You do the spell, then wipe their memory of ever being wolves at all."

"Memory spells are ugly things. They're pervasive and can take on a mind of their own, so to speak. And targeting specific things… To make you forget you were werewolves, I'd have to take pretty much everything from your memories between changing and now… You guys wouldn't even remember each other."

He grimaces. "Yeah, that would suck."

"Big memory wipes like that are dangerous and completely immoral."

"And you need a potion for them?"

"I've never met a witch who could do it by a spoken spell… though, I don't think that precludes the possibility." I sigh, looking back at the phone on the counter. "I should probably ask some questions, anyway."

"So, you've got to go meet up with this woman, get answers and then, you're done, right? Give her a ‘thanks but no thanks' next time."

"Hopefully that's all I'll need."

I text her back, agreeing, and getting the address.

I'm out the door at nine forty-five… well, almost. Chase manages to distract me for a few minutes before I go.

She'd picked a coffee shop close to the boardwalk, but still far enough away there was reasonable parking.

Still… I pulled into a lot two storefronts over and popped open my umbrella to make the walk through the drizzle. Two of the shops have brightly lit windows, their interiors look so inviting, I make a mental note to step inside on my way back to the car, to see if I might be in need of their wares.

But the coffee shop—its peeling-paint sign reads "Cafe Olé!" scrawled across the face of a bull—is dark. It looks more like a bar from the outside. And when I step inside, matters don't improve.

Smoking might be illegal indoors, but the incense that's burned here is worse.

The place seems deserted.

Sure, there are two people at wingback chairs near an electric fireplace, but they are both tucked into books, ignoring the rest of the world. And the rest of the dimly lit place is an empty little cavern.

But Aphrodite stands out like a glowing ember in an otherwise dead fire pit.

"I'm so glad to see you!" She gets to her feet and hugs me before I can even hint that I don't want it. And when she pulls back from me, it's with too sugary-sweet of a smile.

"Don't worry, I didn't order for you."

I don't thank her.

I sit instead.

"Don't you want anything?" She looks at the seemingly empty counter and then back to me.

"No, I can't stay long. I have a prior lunch appointment."

"Oh," Her face crumples and then goes right back to a wide smile as she joins me at the table. "That's okay. I was a little pushy, wasn't I?"

She doesn't give me a chance to answer.

"I'd completely forgotten you were here! Between the two of us and Anthony, it's practically a new hub."

I don't mention our local sea witch. If Aphrodite doesn't know about her, I'm not going to risk sending the woman Gena's way. Who knows how she might retaliate.

"We are certainly getting more residents at an odd pace."

"Really?" She tips her head to the side. "Who else has shown up?"

She takes a long sip as I shrug.

"Some new humans are scheduled to show up." I briefly wonder if I should make friends with Mrs. Miller's granddaughters, just to spite her. "And there's a vampire in town too. It's starting to get a little crowded."

"Oh Kurt?" She shakes her head with a sigh, as if she's thinking of an errant child.

Somehow I doubt "Kurt" is his birth name.

"He's harmless. I've known him for years. He came down with me, but who knows how long he'll stay." She waves her hand. "So! Anthony says you're seeing a hunky carpenter."

"I am."

"Look at you, breaking with tradition and leaving the witches only pattern of your forebears." She suddenly looks worried. "Is your mom okay with that?"

From someone else, the concern might have felt genuine. From Aphrodite… it almost felt like a threat. "She is. She was down here this weekend and met him."

"And she approves?"

For someone who'd just seemed excited to learn I wasn't dating a witch, she's feeling pretty judgy right about now.

So I don't answer the question. Let her think what she will of that.

"I found a warnaway the other day. That wouldn't have happened to be yours, would it?"

She smiles, a little bit like a kid waiting to be punished. "Yeah… I just wanted a little bit of added protection, you know. Can't be too careful when you strike out on your own."

I don't ask her about the tracking spell, it's pretty clear to me now that there's no one else it could be.

A tinkling wind chime from my pocket makes me pull out my phone and pretend to look at it.

Time's up.

"It was lovely to see you again, Aphrodite. But the coven calls."

"Oh," She cocks her head to the side, seemingly disappointed. "You're still with the coven?"

"Yep."

When I go to stand, she looks almost desperate. But it passes in a flash.

I can't stop myself from asking… "Are you okay?"

My concern isn't in the immediate, but it's beginning to feel like she has a timeline and I'm not helping her to stick to it.

"Yeah, I'm just sad we didn't have more time."

I speak before she can try to get me to agree to another one of these.

"Always busy, as I'm sure you know." I turn for the door. "Have a blessed day."

"And you as well."

I leave, noting the warnaway above the door, and take a deep breath once I'm out in the cold air.

The other shops forgotten, I walk straight to my car. But I don't start it right away. Listening to the drizzle and watching the window's false oil painting, I try to shake this ugly feeling I can't seem to lose.

"Hi mom. Did dad forgive you for abandoning him this weekend?"

"Of course. That man forgives all of my sins." She chuckles and I can almost see her shaking her head. "But you wouldn't call just to see if I got in trouble."

"I didn't. I just had a small chat with Aphrodite. It seems the vampire in town is her friend and she brought him with her."

"He's still leeching off of her?" She groans and mutters something under her breath. "Don't worry about him. He's toothless."

"Are you sure?" I start the car just to get the heater going. "Elaria said something about blood magic factoring into Aphrodite leaving the coven."

"That's a rumor she should not be spreading."

"Is it true?"

"She made suggestions. But she is not powerful enough to do anything on her own. And we both know that kind of magic will kill her before she gets anywhere with it."

"You didn't think it was odd that she's talking about blood magic and has a vampire in tow?"

"She's a pretender. Stop worrying about her. I have to go. Talk to you soon."

There's a kissing noise and then, she hangs up.

If she won't take Aphrodite seriously, I'm going to have to.