Chapter 2

As I unlockedthe door to my shop, I tried to focus on what I needed to do. I was feeling melancholy and introverted, but life kept going, and I didn't have any choice. Either I forced myself to get moving and do what needed to be done, or I could slink away and drown myself in a bag of chips and rando TV shows. While the latter appealed to me like a siren's song, I had things to do, and nobody else was going to do them for me.

I turned the sign in the window to "Open." Technically it wasn't ten o'clock yet, but I was only a few minutes early and, given I wasn't in downtown Starlight Hollow, I didn't expect to be overwhelmed by customers in my first hour of business. I tidied up, and everything was ready to go, so I unlocked the cash register, set my tarot cards on the table in the corner where I offered readings, and settled in with a copy of Modern Witch magazine to wait. Reading might take my mind off of Owen and Faron while I waited for customers.

Twenty minutes into the morning, the door opened, jingling the bells on the door, and I set down my magazine. It was Hazy Martin—a local witch who I'd recently done a reading for, concerning her troublesome marriage.

"Hazy—how's it?—"

Before I could get the greeting out of my mouth, Hazy launched into me.

"You really did it, didn't you? I can't believe you told me that everything was going to be all right. I caught Richard fucking the nanny last night. You said nothing was going on!" The five-four blonde woman in front of me looked like an outraged harpy. She was pissed.

"Hazy—I told you that I thought that you needed go see a counselor. I didn't tell you that everything would be all right, but that the situation depended on a number of factors. We discussed all the variables that can play into matters like this."

The truth was, even though I had little hope for the marriage, I had suggested to Hazy that she and her husband seek marital counseling. He had been eyeing the nanny since Hazy gave birth to the twins, and I had my suspicions that, nanny or no nanny, he was looking for a way out. She hadn't wanted to listen and had obviously heard what she wanted to hear.

"Well, it's not all right. I found him with his head between her legs, his tongue buried in her cooch." Hazy glared at me. "I want my money back. Your reading was useless—worse than useless! You gave me hope, damn it!"

I sighed. I could argue and get nowhere—Hazy was too upset to listen—or I could just give her a refund and be done with it.

"Fine. I want my customers and clients to be satisfied. I'll give you a full refund." I began to write out the refund slip. I wouldn't be offering her any more readings, but I wasn't going to quibble over the money. She was unhappy, hormonal from giving birth, and she was facing an uncertain future. If a refund could help her in the short run, so be it.

I opened the register and handed her five twenties. "Please sign this slip indicating you have received a refund."

She hesitated, seeming surprised that I wasn't fighting with her. "I'm…I'm sorry. I'm just…"

"I know. Go on now. Go do what you need to do." I walked her to the door and, gently but firmly, closed it behind her. I didn't blame her for her outburst, but neither was I going to feed into it. That was her life, and her journey. With a sigh, I watched her pull out, then opened the door as Fancypants came zooming across the drive toward the shop.

"Come in."

"It's empty today," Fancypants said, glancing around.

"It is," I said. "I'm surprised. Usually Tuesdays are busy."

"It's early, still," Fancypants said. He settled on the counter. "Are you all right?"

"I talked to my mother about my cousin," I said.

Fancypants arched his eyes. For a dragonette, he reminded me of a comically cute puppy. "No wonder you're glum."

"I'm glum for more reasons than that," I said, sighing. "Faron's not showing any improvement and they're looking at experimental surgery."

"I'm so sorry," Fancypants said, dipping his head. "And then your cousin…I didn't mean to be flippant. Is there anything I can do?"

I glanced out the window. There was someone headed toward the door. "Thanks, I know you didn't mean anything bad. Looks like we have a customer."

"I'll fly out the back and go for a walk through the woods." Fancypants headed for the side window. He could unlatch it and open it, given it wasn't a vertical pane. As he glided out the window, I walked over and latched it after him. October had some beautiful days, but today wasn't one of them. It was blustery, with rain threatening in the next few hours.

As the door opened, I looked up and smiled, but my smile vanished as an angry man strode in, stomping over to the counter.

"Are you Elphyra?" His voice was as gravelly as his stare.

"Yes," I said. "How can I help you?"

"You can help me by staying the hell away from my family. You're lucky I don't sue your ass off." He slapped a candle down in front of me. I recognized it as a "Expose the Cheat" candle from my line of "Love Lust Boosts" for those having issues in the love department.

I wasn't sure what to say. First, I had no clue who he was, and second, if he had been a?—

"Next time you decide to help my wife figure out that I've got a side piece, I'm going to burn down your shop and house. Hopefully with you inside." He picked up the candle and whipped it my way. I managed to duck to the side just in time to avoid being hit.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The voice came from the door, and both my attacker and I turned to see Bran standing there. Tall, with long wheat colored hair and a lean, muscular farmer's body, Bran was my neighbor, and he was an unofficial third in my love life. Before Faron had been assaulted, I'd been caught between the two. I slept with Faron once, but Bran and I were still circling each other.

Bran raced across the room, grabbing the man's collar before I could say a word. He dragged him to the door and heaved him out on his ass. "You ever come back here, you ever lay a hand on this woman, and I will put you in the ground. Do you understand me?"

The man's eyes flickered in fear. Apparently he sensed danger when it was staring him in the face. "I…I hear you," he said, picking himself up and running for the truck. As he screeched off down the driveway, Bran turned back to me.

"What the hell happened?" Quick as a cat, he jumped over the counter to stand next to me. He eyed me up and down. "Are you all right?"

I was still trying to process what had happened. "I think I'm all right. He didn't hit me, but…" I shook my head. "I have no clue what to think. He just came in screaming at me. I remember who I sold that candle to. She must be his wife. She wanted proof that he was cheating on her, and I sold her a spell kit. Apparently, in doing so, I blew everything open. And he was not happy."

Bran's gaze lingered on me, his hazel eyes glowing. He didn't move away. As I leaned in, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "If he comes back, you tell me. Promise?"

I nodded, shivering. "I will." A strange feeling had rolled through the shop, a wave of shadows, swirling around me. "Something's off, Bran. I can feel it."

"What?" He drew me over to the stool behind the counter and had me sit down. "Close your eyes and look."

I obeyed, settling on the seat as I began to lower myself into trance.

A few seconds later, I heard what sounded like a hushed panting, and I found myself staring at my cousin Owen. He was lying on the bed, desperately reaching for his phone, but it was out of reach. He was pale and wan, his long red hair splayed out on the bed. And then, his spirit vanished, and he lay there dead, his hand two inches away from the phone. The bottle that had been full of pills was empty, on the bed beside him.

Clutching my stomach, I forced myself to stay in the trance. So, Owen had changed his mind too late. That hurt. But there was more, on a level beneath that pain. Another moment and the scene shifted, blurring with smoke that clouded my vision, then opened up.

I found myself floating in space, staring down at my shop. The psychic grid that I conjured over my land to protect my home and everything in it was damaged. Threads in the grid were broken, their ends floating in the ether. They looked frayed and charred, as though something had exploded, burning through them until they snapped.

Crap.Something had disrupted my defenses. I reached out to take hold of one of the threads and my fingers sizzled as I grabbed the cord of energy. It was still a live wire, but whatever had broken through had been powerful enough to sever through the spell.

As I began to examine the grid, I saw at least six threads that had been disrupted. This wasn't normal wear and tear. No, this was a deliberate attack. Someone had assaulted my protective wards. I held the thread in hand and tried to follow the energy of the broken cord back to the source of the disruption, but the only thing I could see were chaotic swirls, jagged like circular saw blades, and I knew that whatever was hidden in the mist had been strong enough to slice through the wards.

I opened my eyes. "I've got trouble on my hands."

"What's wrong?"

"Somebody deliberately broke through my wards. The grid I keep energized for protection is damaged. Some sort of energy severed through the threads. It's chaotic, though, and I can't trace it." I glanced at the door, wondering if my customer's husband had enough magical power to manage an attack that strong.

When I thought about it, though, I knew it wasn't him. He was chaotic, but he wasn't powerful enough to take down my grid. "I've had two odd occurrences today—you witnessed that one. But earlier, a woman I read for on a regular basis barged in earlier, complaining that I gave her a faulty reading. Thing is, it wasn't faulty, it was accurate. She knew that, but she still insisted on a refund. After I gave it to her, she seemed surprised, as though she didn't expect me to capitulate."

"And you refunded her the full amount?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I had no desire to draw out the encounter."

"What else do you see, out on the web?"

Out on the webwas the way those of us born to magic referred to communing with the universal energy that touched everything and anything. As we moved either fully or partially out of our body and onto the etheric planes, we could see beyond the mortal and mundane to the web of life that connected everything in the universe.

Bran and I were both witches by birth, though we were from different clans.

I was connected to the earth so deeply that sometimes it felt like I was farther away from humanity than I was part of it. On the other hand, Bran's magic came from folk magic, and while he was also born to it, his presented in a vastly different way. I was born to hunt down the demons of the earth. At least, our clan bore that duty. So far, I hadn't been called to my destiny, but it was only a matter of time.

"I saw my cousin," I said softly. "I didn't have time to tell you about him."

Bran brushed my cheek with his hand. "What happened? I can feel your sorrow." His eyes were luminous, and his touch sent shivers through me.

"Grams called me yesterday. My cousin Owen killed himself the night before last. The wake is on Saturday. I don't want to go, but I have to. I loved Owen, but sitting through hours of my mother taking over with her histrionics, and trying to console my aunt is going to be hell. I'd rather do a private ceremony to say goodbye but?—"

He pressed a finger to my lips. "Would you like me to go with you?"

Startled, I stared at him. "You would do that? You didn't know him."

"No, but I know you, and I don't want you to be alone. I know it's been hard with Faron and his coma. I know that I've put you in a bind, too. I've pressured you, and I'm sorry I did that. I love you but I shouldn't push you. If you want me to back off, say the word, and I will. I just thought…" His voice trailed off.

"No," I said, my throat raw with tears. "Don't back off. I really like Faron. But…you fill a space in my life too, one that he doesn't. I'm sorry I can't seem to choose, but that's where I'm at and I'd rather be honest."

"I'd rather you be honest, as well. I can live with this, at least for now. I can live with a little uncertainty, especially when it comes served up in the form of a beautiful, intelligent woman. So, shall I plan to go with you? Would they mind?" Bran reached for a tissue and handed it to me.

I dabbed at my eyes, hoping my makeup hadn't run too much. "Yes, we'll leave at ten-thirty on Saturday. Plan on being there the whole day. And thank you—for everything."

Bran leaned down and kissed me, lightly—just a gentle slide of his lips against mine—and it was exactly what I needed at that point. Then, after I reassured him I'd be all right, and promised to meet for dinner with him and his mother that evening, I waved as he headed out for work. While the crops had been harvested, he had an afternoon stint at the farmer's market downtown, and I had to restock the shelves.

* * *

The restof the afternoon slid by, second by second. Two shoppers stopped in, neither of whom I recognized, and neither one bought anything. By three pm, when I closed up shop, I was grateful to lock the door and, with Fancypants flying beside me, head back to the house.

"I don't know why I bothered to stay open, after this morning," I said, telling the dragonette about what had happened. "I never thought I might need some sort of mundane protection like a baseball bat, but if Bran hadn't showed up at just the right moment, I could have been in serious trouble. That guy was pissed."

"You thinking of buying a gun?" Fancypants asked.

I thought about it for a moment. "You know, it pays to have a shotgun or a rifle when you live this far out. We do get bears and cougars, but honestly, I don't think I want one around. I'm so hot-tempered, I might just go off the rails at the wrong time. I have a security system, but that doesn't take care of immediate problems facing me right across the counter."

"True," he said. "And even if it did, the cops would likely still take at least ten to fifteen minutes to get out here. You're on the outskirts of town and the sheriff's department is small, at best. I'd say buy a baseball bat, some pepper spray or mace, and then think about what else you can do to protect yourself."

"I definitely need to strengthen and repair the wards." I told him what I'd found when I was out on the web. "I'm not sure what broke through, but whoever did so, has to be strong." I opened the fridge, peeking in. "I forgot to eat lunch, and dinner's not until seven-thirty. We're going to May's for dinner, by the way."

Gem came rubbing up against my ankles and I swept her up, kissing her nose. I'd adopted her and Silver on the same day back in August. Silver had belonged to a little girl who was murdered, and her father had made veiled threats against the cat, so I took him before the asshole could make good on his threats. Then, deciding he needed a playmate, I adopted Gem while waiting for the vet to finish examining him. The pair had made themselves at home, fitting in perfectly.

"No, you and your brother aren't going with us," I said. Gem wasn't my familiar, and neither was Silver, but both understood Fancypants—after a fashion—and he could communicate with them on a rudimentary level. At least they understood why I took them to the vet, and why they needed to keep out of certain things. That didn't mean they always obeyed, but they understood.

"I'm going to make myself a grilled cheese," I said. "Would you like something?"

Dragonettes had endless gullets. Fancypants had eaten so much since he'd hatched that it seemed he should be far bigger than he was. But dragonettes grew slowly—so slowly that it would be another decade before he was out of his childhood. Emotionally, he was like a young adult. Mentally, he was as spry as I was. But physically, the cat-sized member of the dragon family was still a toddler.

"Tuna?" Fancypants wasn't an obligate carnivore like a cat, but he leaned that way. He ate more protein than anything, though he had taken a liking to cinnamon toast, macaroni and cheese, and potato soup.

"I can open you a can of tuna. You do know the cats are going to complain. How about if I open two cans and give them a few bites?" I didn't give the pair human food often, but they got tidbits of lunch meat and tuna.

As I fixed lunch, grilling my sandwich to gooey perfection and heating up some tomato soup to go with it, the phone rang. It was Bree Loomis, my best friend. She owned a hiking company, giving tours through the Olympics and other parts of the Olympic Peninsula.

Starlight Hollow was on the coast of Dabob Bay, between Quilcene and Brinnon, off of Highway 101. A town predominantly inhabited by shifters and witches, the magic of the land mixed with the magic of the people, and created an area heavy in paranormal activity. Starlight Hollow had around three thousand people, if that, but it was a beautiful town, and I was happy that I'd made the decision to move here from Port Townsend, which was forty-five minutes north, on the winding roads.

"Hey, Bree. What's up?" I sat down at the table with my soup and sandwich as Fancypants and the cats attacked the tuna.

"Did you hear about Kaiser Thornton?"

"What did he do this time?" Kaiser Thornton was the town bully and drunk. Why his parents had elected to name him Kaiser, eluded me. He was a bear shifter, not the brightest bulb in the socket, and he was constantly in trouble with the law. Daisy Parker—our sheriff—had a cell with his name on it in the city jail. Kaiser was always getting into fights, and he was usually the one starting them.

"Kaiser's in the hospital. Nobody knows what happened, not even Kaiser, but he was stumbling around drunk last night, and one of the deputies found him sprawled out in back of the laundromat. He looked like he'd been used as a punching bag. Kaiser can't remember who did it, or what he was doing by the laundromat, but he's not going to be drinking for the next few days. Whoever clocked him, injured his spleen and they may have to operate."

"Holy fuck. I hate to think how big the other guy has to be, if he can leave Kaiser that messed up. Did Daisy have any clue? How did you find out?"

"It's in the news. The cops have no clue who did it, so they're warning people to be careful." She paused. "Hold on, I need to refill my coffee."

I waited, thinking that coffee sounded good. Actually, a mocha sounded better. As I leaned against the kitchen counter, staring outside, a whirl of wind stirred up the leaves, blowing them like a whirlwind. The sky was darkening, and I could sense rain coming in, and thunder with it. We were due for a storm.

"Thanks," Bree said. "I can hardly wait to be done for the day. I just want to get home and eat a quiet dinner with the dogs." Bree had two dogs, a black lab named Atlas, and a mouthy, loud husky named Oscar who would sing you the song of his people at the drop of a hat.

"Tell me about it," I said. "I had the morning from hell, then an afternoon so empty that it makes me wonder whether I should keep the shop open."

As we talked, a flash lit up the sky, neon white with streaks of blue along the forking lightning. Less than five seconds later, a rumble shook the house. The lights flickered briefly, and I carried my phone into the living room, where I flipped the switch on the wood stove. It had an automatic pilot, but it could also be lit by hand. Modern, energy efficient, and air tight, it passed all EPA regulations and it kept the living room toasty even if the power went out.

Then, settling on the sofa as the storm began to rage, I pulled a hand-knitted throw over my legs and—as the cats curled by my feet—I proceeded to tell Bree about everything that had happened this week, from the doctor visit to Owen to my customers from hell.