Chapter Three

Lydia

I froze.

I hoped my ears were playing tricks on me, but a quick glance confirmed that I hadn't misheard him. Marty was staring at me expectantly, hands folded in his lap, prepared to wait for an answer even if it took all day to get one.

How in the hell did he know?

How the hell does he know?Indie echoed.

Marty shifted in his chair just enough to let one of his long legs flop onto the patio. I got the message loud and clear. If I tried to bolt, he was more than capable of keeping me exactly where I was. Damn it.

I was tempted to try, anyway. He wasn't a trained assassin... yet. Magic wouldn't work on him, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be useful in a fight. Nulls like Marty could repel enchantments placed on him directly, but if I were to, say, make his chair buckle, he'd still fall flat on his ass. The problem was, I wasn't sure how to go about doing that just yet. The gulf between book knowledge and practical magic was vast and I was still just a student. In fact, over the last few months, I'd found myself learning magical theory alongside a girl named Sybil Weeks, the daughter of the resident warlock, Maverick. And being at the same magical level as a ditzy junior high witch really put my lack of talent into perspective.

"You don't have to look so freaked out, Lydia," Marty said, that boyish smile capturing his handsome face once more. He reminded me of a golden retriever, so ready to please that it made your teeth ache.

"Says you," I answered.

"So, what gives?"

I breathed in deeply. Then leaned forward and said underneath my breath, "you have no clue how dangerous the answer to that question might be."

"Maybe you're right, but I still want to know," he answered on a shrug. "If I'm your bodyguard, I need to know just what I'm dealing with." He paused. "How about I promise to keep the answer to myself unless it puts people in danger?"

Indie was still staunchly opposed to my telling him anything about her. In fact, even though she wasn't saying anything (probably because she was too angry to form coherent words), I could feel that she wanted to crook my fingers and singe Marty's eyebrows off with a well-placed hex. I'd probably turn them blue if I tried, so I didn't. Instead, I leaned across the table, darting a glance around. There wasn't anyone within earshot, but I didn't want to take any chances.

"You can't tell Anthony anything, even if things go sideways."

"Anthony?" Marty repeated, frowning, because he clearly didn't understand the importance Anthony had played in Indie's life. I was fairly sure she'd been in love with him, even if she refused to admit as much.

I nodded. "Indie doesn't want Anthony to know that… well, that she's… still here."

Marty's grin broadened. I hadn't said the exact words aloud, but I was pretty sure I'd just confirmed his suspicions, all the same. Indie was still here alright—in my body, and now Marty was probably cottoning on to that exact fact. He might have said more, but Roy interrupted when he arrived with our food. We'd been here often enough that I now had a usual—pan-roasted cremini mushrooms, sauteed onions, and baked potato with plenty of butter. As usual, Marty eyed the dish before him with distaste, but dutifully ate his salad. He was good about respecting my many, many limitations. And I just couldn't sit across from him and watch him eat a burger.

Roy refilled both of our glasses and then disappeared back into the bar's interior. Marty settled comfortably into his chair once more, spearing a crouton on the tongs of his fork. He brandished it at me with a triumphant smile.

"So, she is still in touch withyou and you didn't simply absorb her power. I knew it!"

Don't admit just how in touch we are,Indie piped up. I'm not sure how much he thinks he knows yet.

Well, he did say he knew you were in my head.

Maybe that was just a guess, on his part.

I scowled at him. "You were just trying to what—get a verbal ‘yes'?"

He nodded. "I was ninety-nine percent sure she was still around, but yeah, I had to ask to be sure."

"Mmm hmm."

"Hey, I have a job to do, right?"

"I guess."

"Point is: I'm supposed to be looking out for you. How can I do that if you're not being completely honest with me?"

Well, now I just felt like an ass. It was hard to remain frustrated with Marty when he was this endearing. One thing I knew for sure? He'd be a success as a hunter simply because he was just so—charming. Flash that boyish smile and they'd never see the stake in his hand.

I harrumphed, which only made him laugh. "So, when did you realize she wasn't dead and gone?"

"About three days after she blew up in the middle of my store."

Goddess, the way you describe it is so… unflattering.

How else do you want me to explain it? You exploded. End of story.

Hmph.

"And I'm assuming this isn't like a ghost visiting you sort of thing?" Marty pressed, eyeing me narrowly. "I'm assuming it's more along the lines of possession."

Don't tell him too much!

I ignored her. At this point—Marty was probably right. He did need to know at least a little more if he was going to do a good job of protecting me and us. "Right."

"Then you somehow absorbed her soul or something?" Marty pressed.

"Something like that."

"And she's been with you since the scene in your store?" I nodded. "Does she fade in and out or...?"

Now, you've done it,Indie said and didn't sound happy. This secret was never supposed to come out.

"She's distressingly present, no matter what I do," I answered. "I haven't had a private moment for months."

"And why didn't you tell Anthony?"

I squirmed, though it was Indie's discomfort now pulsing through my body. She hated being under a microscope, especially when it came to matters of love and romance. Furthermore, I had no clue why witches were such Scrooges when it came to affection. Indie would legitimately confine herself to an eternity with just me before she'd admit to feeling an emotion as insipid as love. It was stupid really.

It's not stupid if that was the way you were raised, she argued.

"She didn't want him to know the truth," I explained, ignoring her grumbling.

"Why?"

"I think she might care about him and in caring about him, she also cares about me."

I do not. You take that back. I don't give a cat's ass about either one of you!

The sour retort actually made me smile. The witch doth protest too much.

"How do you figure?" Marty asked.

"Because I'm fairly sure she doesn't want to put me in an awkward spot."

"An awkward spot?" Clearly, Marty was lost and that was because I wasn't exactly explaining much.

"Right. She and Anthony were involved... sexually."

"Oh," Marty seemed surprised at that. And then he gulped like the last thing he wanted to talk about was anything sexual. It was sort of funny, actually.

Oh, my Goddess…

"If Anthony knew she was still around, do you think he'd actually leave me alone?" I continued. "I mean—if he realized I was her and she was me?"

"Good point," Marty answered and then swallowed a huge gulp of his drink.

It had been a lot more than just sex between Indie and Anthony, but I didn't think Indie would ever forgive me for exposing her humanity to a stranger. Especially a mundane stranger. She'd admitted her feelings for Anthony to me, but revealing them to someone else was different. If I so much as thought about mentioning the word love and Anthony in the same sentence, she'd launch into a diatribe that would make a debate coach proud.

"I can see where that could get complicated," Marty offered. "Though I can't imagine how hard this is for you."

"It's hard."

He nodded. "My love life is tangled enough without having a plus one in my head. It has to be so much worse for you."

I was once again struck by the uncomfortable feeling that Marty wasn't fully over Poppy. Like at all. His emotions felt like a bad sunburn the day after you left the beach. Tender and something you didn't want prodded. I considered prodding him anyway, though—well, less prodding and more attempting to get him to open up so I could tell him everything would be okay and he'd find love again and all that stuff. We'd been talking for a while now. And while that didn't make us close friends exactly, I could imagine standing up for him if something tried to take his head off. That qualified us as allies, at least. Right?

The point became moot a few seconds later when Roy arrived with our desserts. Carrot cake for Marty and a vegan chocolate tart for me. It struck me as odd that the owner of the place was busily doing the waitstaff's duties and I had to wonder if he didn't want any mundanes overhearing mine and Marty's conversation, maybe? I didn't know. What I did pick up on, however, was the tension between Roy and Marty. Of course, the tension was nebulous enough that I couldn't put my finger on the source. Furthermore, I was too tired and hungry to allow myself to dwell on it.

I thanked Roy for the chocolate and dug in while Marty muttered something I couldn't make out to the big guy. Roy disappeared through the glass doors and back into the restaurant. He didn't manage to close them all the way and sound trickled out through the gap. Laughter and animated chit-chat, mostly.

"This is amazing," I moaned around a mouthful of tart. "Who knew Bigfoot was an ace at vegan recipes?"

"He has to accommodate the appetites of a lot of different supernaturals here," Marty explained. "If he can handle dryads and night hags, he can definitely accommodate a vegan." He smirked a little and added, "As distasteful as that might be."

I jabbed my fork at him. "Hey, no vegan jokes! I get enough from the mundanes. I don't need to hear it from my bodyguard, too."

"Want me to be stone-faced like those guards in front of Buckingham Palace instead?"

"Not exactly."

"I think I could pull off the long, fuzzy hat look."

I laughed in spite of myself. Marty seemed like a good guy. It was a shame he hadn't found someone to take the place of Poppy yet. I imagined he would though, in time. "Okay, fine. But I'm imposing a three joke limit per day. Anything after that earns you a hex. Deal?"

"Deal."

It was then that something occurred to me and I faced Marty once more. "Um, just so you know—no one knows the truth about Indie and we need to keep it that way. She has lots of enemies and that's the main reason I haven't come out and been… forthcoming with the truth."

Marty nodded. "I understand. It's not my secret to tell," he added, making a sign of zipping his lips.

We ate our desserts in companionable silence, enjoying the treats too much to draw out the experience by talking ourselves to death. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop on the people inside, but the conversations from the nearest table kept drifting through, capturing my attention. There were new occupants at one of the tables now. A family, I was pretty sure. They were eating the chicken special, from the smell of it.

Something about one of the voices made Indie stir at the back of my brain. She couldn't actually sleep unless I did, but she'd finally mastered the art of zoning partially out of my thoughts and into her own little world, which made it easier on both of us. Now she was a keen awareness at the edge of my thoughts, and I wasn't sure why.

"Are you sure you're okay, Essie?" a pleasant female voice said in an undertone.

"I'm fine, Liv, really. You don't have to hover."

"But you're having nightmares again." There was a pause. "Just talk to me, okay? Maybe I can help."

Get closer. Now.

Indie's mental voice was so forceful that I did as she asked without really thinking about it. I scooted my chair closer to the door, leaning toward the sounds of the voices without being obvious about it. Marty raised an eyebrow but didn't ask. I was grateful. I had no clue what I was doing either—I was just doing what Indie wanted me to. My heart started beating a little faster and I wasn't sure if it was my reaction or hers. The last time Indie had been this present and dictatorial we'd been in literal Hell surrounded by enemies who wanted her dead. What was it about the two women at the table that had set her off?

I peered through the gap. I was right. There was a family seated at one table, with a pair of women sitting at another, nearest the door. They looked similar enough to be identical twins, so I assumed they were sisters. From their matching pixie cuts that framed their angular faces, and their hair so dark, it shone with blue highlights and the matching piercings on their eyebrows and lips—they weren't hiding the fact that they were related.

Estelle and Livinia, Indie breathed. I knew it! I'd know their voices from anywhere.

Who? I asked.

But Indie's thoughts were already racing without me.

What are they doing here?

Who are they? I insisted again.

My nieces, Indie answered. The last time I heard from them, they were in a year-long contract with the mayor of that new Hollow going up in Louisana. Misty Hollow, I think it was called.

Your nieces? I guess I was still stuck on that fact.

Yes! I looked after them from the time they were practically babies. Their mother was killed in the last blood skirmish we had with the vampires.

My chest twinged with emotions that weren't mine. Yearning. Guilt. A deep, abiding love. Indie wanted to go to them, fling my arms open wide, and seize them both in a bear hug.

But she couldn't.

Because that would mean revealing the big secret we were keeping from everyone—the secret that involved a murderous villain from her past coming back to kill us once and for all. She wouldn't expose her nieces to that kind of danger if she could help it. We leaned closer, listening for the rest of the conversation.

"If I'm being completely honest," Estelle said. "Things have been weird between me and Corny lately."

Corny?Indie repeated, almost recoiling at the name.

It's probably a nickname for Cornelius, chill, I answered.

Essie would never date someone—she's a witch!

I thought you were dating Anthony?

Anthony and I were… different.

Different how?

We were forced together by long-term proximity. For normal witches... well, dating men… it just isn't done. We only stay as long as we're sexually interested or have a child from them, and even then, our relationships are never serious. She paused. And Essie and Liv are too young to be having children.

Too young? I repeated, frowning. I mean, they looked like they were at least in their thirties.

Seventy and sixty-seven, respectively.

I rolled my eyes. Oh, right, because seventy is so young.

It is. Now hush.

"Weird how?" Livinia asked.

"I think he's having trouble with the night terrors," Essie answered. "He said he was okay with it while I was going through the sleep studies, but now that everything's ‘back to normal', or at least, as normal as it can be, he seems to be having some issues adjusting."

"It's not something you or I can help. It's medical and we can't change it."

"I know, I know."

"What are you going to do?" Livinia asked. "Do you think it's something he's going to be able to get over?"

"I have no idea," Estelle said with a sigh. "We're all sort of in uncharted territory here."

"Right."

"Corny is my first real boyfriend. I'd like to think he'll get over my nightmares, but who knows? I did sleepwalk and it was pretty scary. If he's this upset when I'm not even there, imagine how hard it will be for him when we see each other again."

Something is wrong, Indie said, and there was a current of tension under her words. She wasn't scared... yet but she was definitely anxious.

What do you mean?

Witches don't sleepwalk.

You don't?

No. We have innate defenses against being bespelled in our sleep, and a lot of us take even more precautions if we're in hostile territory.

So, what does that mean?

Goddess, you are thick sometimes.

Or I just don't know the ins and outs of what it means to be a witch, I spat back at her.

The only reason Essie would be sleepwalking is if something was making her do it.

Like what?

I could feel her shrug. A partial possession or a spell. Either way, it's not good. I need to talk to her.

I frowned. And say what? Um, if you've forgotten, you no longer have your own body. And if I just walk up there and say something like: "Hi, I'm your Auntie back from the dead. Don't mind the body I'm attached to, it's a loaner. Let's talk demons, okay?" I shook my head. Do you even realize how insane I'd sound, approaching them like that?

You have a point.

Of course I have a point!

Then contact Wanda and have her talk to them for you.

Indie…

This is wrong, and they need help. From the sounds of it, Essie is having night terrors and sleepwalking episodes too. She paused as if the realization was just now really sinking in. Lydia, either go talk to them or go call Wanda.

The request was so adamant that my body actually rose of its own accord and moved toward the door before I could stop it. Marty raised an eyebrow at me.

"Something the matter?"

"Indie seems to think there is." And then something occurred to me. "You're allowed into Council meetings, right?"

He nodded slowly. "Right."

"When was the last time you went?"

"A couple weeks ago. I go if I have time, but between my graphic design business and my new monster hunter training, I haven't had much free time lately."

"Okay, have you heard anything recently about two new witches coming to town?"

"Names?"

"Um, Estelle and Livinia?"

Marty shook his head. "You're the only new supernatural face in the Hollow in the last month."

"Hmm."

"And any supernatural creatures who visit a Hollow have to check in with the council first, right?"

Marty nodded. "Right." Then he cocked his head to the side. "Other than you, the only other newbies are a couple of mundanes, as far as I know. But they're just humans, so I doubt you'd be interested in them."

Yet there was something about what he'd just said that tugged at me. "What do you know about them—the mundanes, I mean?"

He shrugged. "Just that they moved into a house on my street. They're commuting to the University of Portland."

"Do you know their names?"

"Um," he started and tapped his fingers on the table. "They introduced themselves, but I'm seriously bad at remembering names."

"Try."

He frowned. "Why are you so interested? I told you they're just human college students."

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "But try to remember if they told you what their names were."

He tried again. "I think one of them is named Liv or Liz or something. They mentioned they'd be having their family over and asked about parking on the street."

Liv as in Livinia.

"Was the other one named Estelle?"

Marty nodded. "Yeah, that sounds familiar."

It's them.

I breathed in deeply. "They're not mundanes. They're Indie's nieces."

"But that would make them… witches?"

"Right."

He further frowned. "So how is that possible?"

"I don't know," I answered. "But Indie recognized them." I took another deep breath.

"Taliyah met with them on their first day in town," Marty argued, shaking his head. "She said there isn't an ounce of magic in either of them—which is why they were listed as new human citizens."

Impossible,Indie snapped.

She turned my body toward the door, ready to charge through and demand to know what was going on. But when we slid the door open and marched inside, we found the table empty.

Estelle and Livinia were gone.