Epilogue

Lydia

Indigo's nieces were nowhere to be found.

When Animus fled, he took Estelle and Lavinia with him as leverage. The Hunter's organization promised to look into the disappearances, but I didn't imagine two powerless former witches were high on their priority list. And there was still no sign of Florence, the zombie.

The Hexus Rangers were also on the case, which filled Indie with a little more hope. The very next day, we had a video conference with the leader of the Hexus Rangers, herself. Lucretia Boline reminded me of a lioness lounging on a rock. She was made of sleek muscle and coiled magical potential. She was only visible from the waist up on the webcam, but still managed to loom over us, transcending petty limitations like framing and geographical location. She was technically hours away in a tiny Texas Hollow called Jinx Junction, but you wouldn't have known it to look at her—her presence was so commanding that it felt like she was right here, in the room with us. Her eyes were tawny and flashed gold in the right light and her impatient expression said she'd seen and done it all and it hadn't impressed her much.

"Well," she said after a long pause, giving us all a scathing look, as though we were solely responsible for her troubles. "This development changes things."

"Forgive me if I'm missing the obvious, but how exactly does this change things?" Poppy asked.

My cousin had curled up on one of the coven house's many couches, tucking her legs under a flowing navy skirt. She was turning an empty glass vial over and over in her hands, tracing the contours like it was a large and fragile worry stone. I almost asked if she had an extra, because my nerves were jangling like wind chimes in a tornado.

The outcome of the battle had been too close for comfort. We hadn't even won. We'd come to a draw, and Indie's nieces were still in the wind. As to my mental roommate, she hadn't said much over the last few days, curling her mental presence into a metaphorical corner. Her thoughts were opaque and unreadable, a working of her own design. Either she had more control of our shared magic than she wanted to admit, or she was able to use it only in the limited confines of our mind. Either way, I hadn't heard more than a few words from her after the scene at the hotel. I suspected she was having a long depression nap. God knew she had enough to mourn.

I didn't want to feel sorry for her. She'd done and been party to a lot of horrible things. Maybe this was her punishment. She didn't get to move on and start again tabula rasa like most witches did when they died. She had to stay and remember everything she'd said and done that led her to this point. She didn't have the control she was used to. She had to learn to give a damn for at least one person outside of her family.

Indie mumbled something in her half-aware state and gave me the distinct impression that she was turning her back to me. It was the closest I'd come to having my head back since she'd arrived. On one hand, it was nice not to have a running commentary on my life. On the other hand, it felt odd, like turning off subtitles after years of watching TV with them on. I'd gotten so used to her constant commentary that the absence felt wrong.

Lucretia's eyes flicked almost disdainfully toward Poppy, but she had enough tact to keep herself from sneering. As a rule, witches and gypsies didn't get along. My family's tales about witches had turned out depressingly accurate on that count. The battle for acceptance in this Hollow had been all but over by the time I arrived. Poppy had fought the good fight and worn every single witch down until she wasn't just tolerated, she was actually well-liked. And the crowning achievement? Poppy had become BFF's with Wanda—something that if I hadn't seen it for myself, I never would have believed.

As for me? The witches in Scapegrace Coven didn't seem sure what to make of me, the gypsy who'd fused to a witch so tightly that you couldn't tell where Indie ended and I began. There wasn't a manual out there that addressed coming into your witch powers via explosion. Too niche to get published, probably.

"Indeed," Lucretia said. "I imagined the Hollow's rules would keep conflict from darkening Lydia's door. She's not a witch and not privy to Indigo's life. That alone should have kept her safe."

"But it didn't," Wanda pointed out, lounging lazily against the mantle. "Why?"

A fire flickered in the grate, lending the room a soft orange glow. Wanda occasionally reached down to stir what was brewing in the cauldron hanging over the fire, gripping the ladle gingerly, as though afraid to make contact with the potion inside. Maverick had started that particular brew for her, but then had to duck out very briefly to deal with a skirmish at the Half-Moon. Apparently, an air spirit was playing pranks on the patrons, knocking over glasses, messing up hairdos, and so on. In a half-shifted form, he was all but invisible. A few repelling potions should take care of him. In the meantime, Maverick was trusting the integrity of this potion to his coven. A really bad idea, if Wanda was the one safeguarding it. As I understood it, Wanda was basically useless when it came to brewing potions. I was ready to duck and cover at the first sign of smoke.

Marty hung his head. "It's probably my fault."

"How is that?" Lucretia demanded.

Marty shrugged. "I've been making Lydia keep a dream journal. She's been having more flashbacks about Indigo's life, and I was hoping that it would be enough evidence to help the prosecution when the case eventually goes to trial, which I imagine it will at some point. Indigo might be gone, but her knowledge could still be used to put her co-conspirators in supernatural jail."

"Precisely," Lucretia said crisply. "Someone became aware that Lydia possessed more than just the remnants of Indigo's magic and viewed those remnants as a threat. But if Lydia's going to testify, I'm going to need more than just a junior hunter on the case. No offense, Mr. Zach."

Marty shrugged. "None taken. I know I'm not exactly Van Helsing here."

"Thank the Goddess for that," Lucretia muttered.

"That sounds like you might have known him?" I asked tentatively.

Lucretia nodded. "I did and Abraham Van Helsing was a misogynistic prick. I hated working with him."

I blinked once in shock, my mind furiously ticking off the numbers. It sounded absurd to my largely ignorant-of-the-supernatural brain, but the truth was that Lucretia really could have been alive when Abraham Van Helsing was out there staking vampires and inspiring Irish novelists. She was a witch, and they could live a couple of centuries, easily. The oldest witch Indigo had ever encountered was four hundred years old and a wizened, impatient thing. It was humbling to realize that some of the people in the house had been around when steam-powered inventions were new.

Marty's expression brightened. "That's actually pretty darn cool that you knew Van Helsing."

Lucretia nodded. "I'll tell you about it over coffee sometime."

"Uh... sure," Marty answered, seemingly taken aback to think Lucretia wanted to have coffee with him. I had to admit I was surprised also. "You'll have to schedule the Skype call, but I'm down."

Lucretia raised an imperious brow. "We'll have coffee in person, Mr. Zach—as is proper."

Marty seemed flummoxed by that. As was the rest of the room. "We will?"

She nodded again, this time with a little more agitation. "You're coming to work for me, are you not?"

"I mean—what?" Marty answered—sort of. If he'd appeared confused before, now he appeared completely lost.

"While I may not trust a key witness to your care yet, that doesn't mean that I don't value your skill set."

"Oh, well, thanks—" Marty started but Lucretia interrupted him.

"My former liaison was bespelled by Winter faeries and taken into the heart of Janara's domain."

"Well, that's no good," Marty said, looking like he wasn't exactly sure what to say.

"No, it's not any good," Lucretia agreed. "And attacking Janara's realm would be suicide, so we're going to have to simply bargain for my liaison's safe return. In light of recent events, I say it's unlikely Janara will cooperate, but we're still attempting to reason with her."

"You sound like a true negotiator," Marty said with a big grin.

Lucretia merely frowned at him and raised one imperious brow. "In the meantime, I still need a liaison, and I suppose you'll do."

"Me?" Marty asked and seemed totally taken aback.

"Yes, Jonathan says you have the highest resistance to enchantment he's ever seen, and that's invaluable for this position."

Everyone in the room stared at the screen like a flasher had just popped into the frame behind Lucretia and opened his trench coat to show us all his goodies. Poppy actually looked like someone had hit her between the eyes with a hammer. It was like no one had ever considered that anyone would ever leave Haven Hollow's comfy little biome.

"Wait, you're being offered a position in… Jinx Junction?" Poppy asked while she looked at Marty, her blue eyes wide. Even though Poppy was forty-six, she had this girlishness about her that made her seem much younger. As she looked at Marty, I thought I could read something in her gaze—maybe regret or sadness? I didn't think she wanted to be back together with him or anything, because she seemed really happy with her new boyfriend, but there was something there in her eyes, all the same. Something that hinted to the fact that Marty held a special place in her heart and always would.

As to everyone else in the room, they seemed to regard Marty like a throw pillow or a comfy blanket. Like he was always there and very much appreciated when you needed him, but also taken for granted. And until recently, maybe he'd been content with that? In becoming a hunter, and making the choice to stand up for people in an active offensive role, well something had changed about him. He seemed a little more—dangerous. Less the jocular, teddy bear and now a teddy bear with one hell of a clawed left hook.

Marty was the first to recover and cocked an eyebrow right back at Lucretia. "Oh, I am now? I don't remember turning in an application to work for you, Sheriff Boline."

A quivering line of tension ran through the room. The deference most of the witches showed Lucretia Boline made me think of her as something like a senator or the First Lady. Not someone you wanted to cross or be flippant to. I half-expected Lucretia to get offended, then go off on Marty, or disconnect the call. Instead, her lips quirked into the barest fraction of a smile. She kept the amusement from her expression, but couldn't totally banish the fact that she found his comment… smirk worthy. Challenge glittered far back in her tawny eyes. The frank appraisal in them when she looked at Marty almost made me blush. She was undressing him with her eyes, and she didn't care who knew it. I doubted men challenged her often, so this must have been a turn-on.

"You didn't turn in an application to me, no, but you'll come to work for me, anyway."

"You sound pretty sure of yourself, Sheriff," Marty answered, and there might have been a slight flirtation to his tone too.

"I need someone with stronger magic guarding Lydia, so I'll be sending my son, Anthony, to look after her. And as to you, Mr. Zach, you can stay up there and fiddle with your powers and exhaust yourself in a dojo, or you can come to Jinx Junction and actually learn the things that will help people. It's your choice, of course. If you'd rather squander your gift, that's up to you."

Indigo stirred at the sound of Anthony's name, a lazy wave of desire cresting inside me before crashing hard on the shore of my will. Anthony, in Haven Hollow? That sounded like a disaster. I'd been relieved when Indie's lover had returned to his mother's side. Now he was coming back, closer and more touchable than ever. That was going to spell disaster, especially because it felt like Angelo and I were finally starting to… well, figure things out? Or maybe we were on our way to admitting our interest in one another? I wasn't sure, but what I did know was that I didn't need another complication.

Marty pondered Lucretia's invitation for another few seconds before he finally nodded. "Okay, send me a contract by email and I'll look it over. I'm not signing on until I'm sure you're not suckering me into something, though."

"Suckering you into something?" Lucretia repeated, pretending to appear taken aback, but I was fairly sure she knew exactly what she was doing.

Marty nodded. "I know how witches can be, and the ones around me aren't chock full of black magic and bad attitude. I want to be sure I'm getting a good deal if I sign on."

"Oh, you'll get a good deal alright," Lucretia practically purred.

It was Poppy who interrupted the blossoming sexual tension between the two when she reached out and took Marty's arm, prompting him to look back at her.

"You're leaving?" she whispered, clutching her vial tightly in the palm of one hand as her expression fell. Whatever they were to one another now, it was obvious that they still cared about each other.

Some of Marty's confidence wavered as he looked at her. Whatever they'd had wasn't shallow, even if it hadn't turned out to be romantic. Marty cared about her—a lot. In fact, I had the impression that Poppy's opinion was the most important to him of anyone's in the whole Hollow.

"I need to get out of here, Pops. It's time."

Poppy's eyes welled with tears, but she nodded as if to say she understood—that he was ready for the next chapter of his life. And somewhere inside the bittersweet expression on her face, I read the fact that she knew it couldn't be easy for Marty to see her with her new beau.

"I think I've outgrown Haven Hollow," Marty continued, and though he was saying as much to the entire room, I was fairly sure his words were for Poppy alone. "I want to go where I can help the most people. Because that's what matters, right? Helping people?"

Poppy dabbed discreetly at the corners of her eyes. Her smile was watery but genuine. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't want to be a hero. Just... promise you won't be a stranger?"

His smile was warm enough to raise the temperature a few degrees. "Of course."

"Excellent," Lucretia said, clapping her hands together as if she didn't like the obvious history between the two of them. Wherever Marty's path led him, I had a feeling he was going to have a wild time in Jinx Junction. "I'll send Anthony up to Haven Hollow at the end of the week. He'll stay at the Scapegrace Coven House until proper lodgings can be arranged. Assuming there's room?"

"There is," Wanda answered as she eyed the bubbles popping on the potion's surface with disquiet. If she got actively scared, I was definitely running and then taking cover. "Anthony's welcome to stay, of course."

"Good. I expect more updates when you have them. I look forward to working with you by spring, Mr. Zach."

"Marty," he corrected her. "If you're going to be my boss, you can call me Marty."

"Very well... Marty. Call later this evening to update Anthony. I want him fully briefed before he takes his place as Lydia's protector."

"Got it, Sheriff."

"Lucretia," she corrected him, that sensual smile taking control of her mouth again.

And that was about as much as I could take. Anthony was coming, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop it. He'd have some of the answers I was desperately seeking, but it wasn't worth it if the tradeoff was a long-lost love that I didn't want. I had my hands full with the persistent incubus on my couch. The witch's son was just too much.

I sucked in deep lungfuls of frosty air when I exited the coven house. Haven Hollow's weather was merely nippy now instead of being shoved into the deep freeze. My head was pounding with the possible futures to come, and it was a relief to lean my forehead against the frosted exterior of the house. Angelo was perched on the lowest step, taking a drag of something that looked like a cigarette but wasn't. When he exhaled, the smoke that trailed from his lips was gold and twisted in on itself like a serpent once before disappearing. I scooted closer to him, and he glanced up.

"What's the verdict?"

"New protector," I said with a sigh. "Could you put that out? Smoking will kill you, you know?"

"Not this stuff," Angelo answered, taking another drag. "This is specially bred in my home dimension. It's not nicotine, though it is an appetite suppressant."

I laughed weakly. "A diet tool for the trendy incubus or succubus?"

"No. A stopgap measure for the desperate," he corrected me. "I used a lot of energy in that battle, and I haven't fed to replenish it. This should keep me from feeling hungry, even if it doesn't restore the reserves I had. This stuff is hard to get, but I figured I'd need it, so I talked to a contact I had."

My stomach twisted with guilt. He was hungry, and there was only one way for him to get what he needed.

"Why?" I asked, though I knew the answer. I just couldn't figure out why he was doing this for me. Lydia, who'd settled for a man like Rodney because she didn't think she deserved better. I'd never exactly been in demand.

"Because I said I wouldn't cheat with regard to the rules we made between the two of us," he said, his eyes smoldering as he took me in.

"The rules?" I asked, completely spacing as to what in the hell he was talking about.

"That I wouldn't seduce you with my abilities, remember?"

"Oh, those rules." I laughed and it sounded nervous. Probably because it was.

"Right, those rules." He took another drag off the not-cigarette, never taking his eyes off me. The stuff smelled like incense and woodsmoke when it curled around my face. For just a second, I swore I could feel his fingers tracing over the skin of my cheek.

"Well, it's…. good we have those rules because… well, because I'm not ready," I whispered.

"I know," he said, waving a hand airily at the not-cigarette he held. "Thus, the need for an appetite suppressant. Otherwise, I'd want to swallow you whole."

"You could find someone else, you know," I said in a small voice. "If you're hungry, you shouldn't starve yourself. There are women—"

"—I want you," he interrupted, cutting across me. "You're worth the wait."

Warmth suffused my chest. It felt like I'd waited a lifetime to hear those words. I'd expected them from Rodney and a few other boyfriends. Funny that they should come from a demon. Angelo, who literally fed on sex, thought I was worth waiting for. Actually, the words meant even more, coming from someone like him.

"So, you don't want to sleep with another woman?" I asked, frowning because it just seemed to go completely counter to who and what he was.

"No. Not unless you're part of it. I mean, I am down for a threesome."

I snorted as he grinned. "You and every other man."

He chuckled. "While I was just joking about the threesome thing, I was worried that we'd have to work something out when I believed feeding exclusively on you would drain you to death. Now..."

"Now I'm strong enough because of Indigo?" I answered, as he nodded. "So… it could just be us."

"If you want," he said quietly. "Do you?"

"I do," I whispered. "I really do. But I'm worried."

"Why?"

I cleared my throat because I was pretty sure he wouldn't like hearing this next bit. "Indie's old boyfriend is coming back to town."

"Anthony?" he asked, obviously piecing together the facts from the call with Lucretia.

"Right."

"And do you have feelings for him?"

I shrugged. "I don't know him. I feel something towards him because she did and does, but I don't have real feelings for him, if that's what you're asking?"

He grinned, showing teeth. "And who do you have real feelings for?"

I paused, taking a deep breath before a saucy smile took control of my mouth. "Let's just say it's someone we both know."

"Is that so?" he grinned and there was something in his eyes which promised that whatever this was between us, it was going to be exciting and then some.

The End