Stasi was positive the ear-splitting screech that filled the air shredded every nerve ending and shattered glass from here to Alaska. She jumped out of bed and threw on the jeans and sweater she’d discarded only a few hours earlier.
“That’s Horace!” Blair ran out of her room while Jazz emerged from one of the guest rooms.
“He’d only do that if someone broke into the shop,” Stasi said.
“We need to protect the others.” Jazz’s coppery red hair flew around her head in snarls as she muttered a few words, sealing the room Krebs and Letiticia slept in along with her own room where Nick rested. The fact that her heavy forest-green wool sweater was inside out showed that she was still half asleep. She waved a hand to close her jeans while Fluff and Puff protested being awakened so early by her jamming her feet into them the minute she jumped out of bed.
“Nick will have your head for keeping him out of this,” Blair told her as she watched the spell cover the door.
“I’d rather he not be out there until we know what’s up,” she said grimly. “He was in morning rest, but if Horace keeps it up he’ll be awakened and fear the worst.”
“What is that unearthly sound?” Irma demanded, popping up with the dog standing by her side.
“Go back to bed, Irma,” Jazz ordered.
Stasi tasted the metallic flavor of fear in her mouth and heard a roaring in her head that had nothing to do with the intensity of Horace’s screeches. “Someone’s broken into the store.” She ran for the back door and threw it open, practically flying down the stairs and running around to the front of the building. She would normally have gone through the rear door of the shop, but she knew she needed to see the front. She slid on the icy surface of the sidewalk, almost falling as she skidded to a stop and saw revealed in the early morning light what her intuition already knew.
She blinked back tears that froze to her eyelashes as she stared at the catastrophe that had once been her and Blair’s shops. Frosty air blew through the broken windows covering the front of the building. Black paint had been splattered everywhere, showing flecks of ice as it froze to the wood. She could see obscene words spray painted on the walls inside and nothing of value had been left untouched. Even the weathered pine building showed deep gouges and slashes as if someone had gone after it with an axe.
“Oh no.” For once Jazz was shocked enough only to whisper the two words, but without missing a beat she started to chant under her breath.
“No.” Stasi’s voice was a bare breath of air as she placed her hand on Jazz’s arm, effectively stopping her before Jazz finished the spell that would pull the wrongdoers back to the scene of the crime. She knew Jazz and Blair would make mincemeat out of whoever had vandalized the two businesses, and right now she didn’t want to see them. She started to teeter-totter back and forth, aware of a strange roaring in her head that left her feeling as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of her brain. Her blood had turned to ice and she feared no amount of heat could warm her. “Please.” The word came out as a strangled sob.
“Honey, don’t.” Blair grabbed hold of her before she fell to the ground while Jazz caught her on the other side. She stared at the disaster in front of them with disbelieving eyes that also held a glimmer of tears. “I don’t understand this. Why didn’t our wards work? They’ve never failed us before. What had enough power to bypass them?”
“Having a problem?”
Stasi spun around to find Carrie standing on the other side of the street with a coffee to-go cup in one hand and a large bag from the bakery in the other. The woman’s smirk was more than Stasi could take.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who sees you for what you are,” she called out. Stasi started to step off the sidewalk.
“Don’t, Stasi,” Trev’s voice rang out from nearby. He walked quickly toward her, standing in front of her before her second foot left the curb. “You’ll only bring the wrath of the Wizards’ Court down on you. It’s not worth it.”
“The Wizards’ Court has nothing to do with me. You vindictive little—” Jazz stalked across the street. Blair was swift on her heels with equal fury blazing in her eyes.
Carrie held her stance even as she watched the two furious witches coming toward her. The air was thick with anger and their magick, their hair waving around their heads in the icy air, and multi-colored sparks flying about looking for a target, which just happened to be standing across the street from them. She realized she was their objective and almost lost her balance as she backed up a step, but she managed to save her footing in time.
“Are you proud of yourself, Carrie?” Blair gritted out, gesturing backwards toward the destroyed storefronts. Dark blue sparks shot from her fingertips and settled to the ground. “This isn’t just vandalism, this is pure hatred and even if you didn’t do this yourself, you know who did because you had to have been behind it!”
The woman lifted her chin, her lips narrow and colorless under a thin application of lipstick. “Why would I bother myself with your ugly little shops? I tell people not to buy there. That your merchandise is inferior.”
Blair ignored this and closed in on Carrie, who took another step backward, avoiding the sparks. “But you seemed to have forgotten something. Stasi’s the nice one. She’s the one who dreams of romance and she doesn’t believe in retaliation. I’m the one who’s extremely gifted in the art of revenge. Or did you happen to forget what happened to Gina Carson’s husband last year after he cheated on her and she wanted him to pay for that?”
Jazz stepped closer. “You’ve never been cursed, have you, Carrie? Never seen what can happen to someone who’s been well and truly hexed.” Her purr was soft and insidious as her moss-green eyes gleamed and her lips broadened in a daunting smile. “And the range of curses out there is truly amazing, if I do say so myself. Some curses are fairly mild, a nasty case of hives or projectile vomiting for a few days, or weeks, but then there are the unforgettable ones. I’ve seen curses where nasty-smelling pus oozes out of every pore in your body and there’s no way to cure it. Or maggots cover every inch of your body and no matter what you do, they don’t fall off. Or your skin literally peels itself away.” The bunny slippers looked up and gnashed razor-sharp teeth that were rumored to have consumed their share of mortals.
“If you use a spell it will reflect on her,” Carrie sneered, holding her ground.
Jazz took another step forward. “There’s nothing that says I can’t bitch slap you back to the Paleolithic period.”
“Stop it, Jazz!” Stasi’s voice snapped like a whip. Her power flew across the street ahead of her like a sheet of ice as she walked toward the three women. She didn’t take her eyes off Carrie the entire time. “Leave us.”
Blair arched an eyebrow and opened her mouth, ready to argue that she wasn’t leaving her friend. Jazz merely smiled and pulled on Blair’s arm. Amid Blair’s muttered protests, the two women returned across the street to where Trev stood still, his face unreadable.
Stasi didn’t say a word as she kept her eyes on Carrie.
“You can’t touch me.” Carrie’s voice was full of false bravado. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out you had a cozy dinner with my lawyer?”
“Be careful, Carrie, you’re sounding like a jealous lover.”
Carrie’s face turned bright purple. “Everyone thinks you’re this sweet little thing, but it’s all fake, isn’t it? You didn’t think someone would stand up to you, did you? Did you fuck him in hopes he would convince me to drop the suit? No way that will happen. You ruined my marriage, and I want you to pay for it. And if you do anything to me, I’ll make sure he brings you up on charges. You don’t think I’m very smart, but I know enough about your kind of law that punishment would be a hundred times worse than anything my courts would do to you.”
“I don’t have to touch you, Carrie,” Stasi said softly, but each word was steel coated and her eyes burned with an icy fury. “You’re not worth any pain the Wizards’ Court would hand out.”
“You deserve to be ruined.” Spittle flew out of Carrie’s mouth. “And don’t threaten me with your black spells. If anything happens to me or if Trevor says he’s dropping me as a client, I’ll find a lawyer who will make sure you’re punished.”
“I don’t use baneful magick and I don’t threaten. I only make promises and in all my years I have never broken a promise.” Her stone-cold gaze bored into the woman. “Besides, you’re not worth the effort. You’re a shallow, cold-hearted woman who hates the world because you feel it’s wronged you. You were that way as a child and you still are.” Her smile held no warmth as she noted the flicker in Carrie’s eyes. “I have a long memory, Carrie. As a child, you were cruel to other children, and some of them still carry the scars. You and I both know your husband didn’t leave you because I cast a spell. He left you because he saw you for what you are and he found a woman who loves him and doesn’t want to control him.” She shook her head. “You’re not angry because he left you. You’re angry because deep down you know you’re incapable of making any man happy.”
Carrie’s face mottled with rage. “Witch! Witch!” She made it sound like the vilest of curses.
For a moment Stasi’s stomach filled with acid as old memories of that shrieked accusation assaulted her mind. By sheer force of will she managed to hold on to her composure and walked away from Carrie and her vehemence.
Trev’s expression gave her no hint of his thoughts as he passed by Stasi and walked toward Carrie. Once he reached her, he lowered his head until his lips almost touched her ear, speaking for several moments. She calmed visibly, and he led her away down the street. Not once did he look back. Stasi reminded herself she didn’t expect him to, but it still hurt.
She covered up her pain with the reminder she had told him to leave her alone, that Carrie was his client and she knew the woman was his priority.
Just as right now, her main concern was cleaning up her and Blair’s shops as best she could. As it was, their shops wouldn’t be re-opening for a couple days.
“Why do they always have to use the cheap black paint?” Jazz grumbled, zapping open Stasi’s door and stepping inside. “This is just gross! Oh yeah, real original, assholes. At least learn how to spell correctly and come up with something more innovative than the old standbys!” She stared at a rear wall scrawled with obscenities. She took one look at Stasi’s shocked expression and smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, we can take it all away.”
“Damn it! That was the last original Scrabble game I had!” Blair could be heard wailing as she moved through her shop. “I’m putting out some search spells and when I find out who did this, I’m kicking some serious ass into the next century.”
“You took your time getting in here! Someone almost put an axe through me!” Felix wailed from his spot on the wall. “Half of my tail is gone,” he moaned, as his newly bobbed tail swung back and forth in perfect time.
“Be grateful. You’re about the only thing not destroyed,” Blair growled, picking her way through the debris that littered the floor. “They snapped the heads off all the Madame Alexander dolls! And they were mint condition, too!”
Stasi felt as if she was moving through molasses as she walked into her shop. She stood in the doorway and looked at a chaos that punched holes in her heart. The books had been torn to pieces and thrown all over, while the lingerie had been shredded and some pieces were wet with a sticky substance that she didn’t even want to think about.
“I guess we should call the sheriff,” she muttered in a monotone.
“But you won’t call him, will you?” Jazz didn’t bother to wait for an answer as she zapped what had once been an exquisite camisole lying on the destroyed carpet. The fabric went up in smoke, leaving behind white ash.
“It wouldn’t matter. The sheriff’s Carrie’s uncle on her mother’s side.” Stasi stepped carefully through the mess. “Boyd thinks she’s a sweet little thing, just a bit high strung. His words. But we will need to take videos of the exterior of both shops for insurance purposes and inside to show damage to our stock.”
Suddenly Stasi realized that what had originally woken her up was now silent. “Horace? Where are you? Horace!” She ran behind the counter then through the stock room. She breathed a soft sigh of relief to see that whoever had trashed her shop hadn’t had time to go into the back. The stock hanging on racks in the back hadn’t been touched. She finally found the gargoyle hiding under her desk. She was sorry the vandals hadn’t been greedy enough to try to take the bewitched moneybag. She would have felt a bit cheerier if they’d suffered for their crimes. The moneybag had its own ways of dealing with thieves and it wasn’t pretty. “Their turn is coming,” she muttered, firmly believing in karma.
“It’s a miracle I wasn’t killed!” The gargoyle tried to scramble up her arms the minute she started to pick him up. “All this shouting woke me up then something broke the windows and they swarmed in like gors beetles.” He mentioned a beetle used in transformation spells; the beetles were the size of lizards and their skin had an odd purple cast. They were also meaner than black mambas when caught. “We can move now, can’t we? What about Palm Springs? Wait a minute, no, not there. A lot of old people there and no way I want to see all that wrinkled skin tanned to the consistency of old leather. LA? There’re lots of hotties down there. Or Hawaii. Maybe Australia,” he babbled. “Florida. No, they have lots of old people there too. And if the old ladies still wear those muumuus I’ll see way too much cellulite and fat along with their Depends. I’d have to wash my eyes out with acid. But after what happened we can’t stay here!” He grabbed her arms and shook her, which wasn’t an easy feat for an eight-inch gargoyle, but he had his strength behind him. His wings swept back and forth, increasing in intensity.
“Horace, calm yourself! And we’re not going anywhere.” She winced as his claws dug into her arms, snagging her sweater. She wasn’t used to seeing the gargoyle hysterical. His gray skin was mottled red and bright pink with agitation and his wings flapped so fast they created a strong breeze. She stroked his horns, usually guaranteed to soothe his frazzled nerves, but it didn’t seem to be doing the trick this time.
“I’m proud of you, lovey.” Jazz walked in and sat on the extra chair. “Oh for Fates sake!” She grimaced when she realized that her sweater was inside out with the tag hanging under her chin. She quickly pulled it over her head and set it to rights. Once that was done, she finger combed her hair, piling it on top of her head in a loose knot that she secured with a pair of dark jade chopsticks she pulled out of thin air. “You did the right thing by standing up to that harridan and putting the fear into her. I always knew you had it in you. There was no reason for you to take her shit.”
“I felt like a shrew.” Stasi busied herself carefully peeling each of Horace’s claws out of the knit of her sweater, and then set him gently on her desk. He immediately scuttled back to rest against her sleeve, rubbing his face against her arm as if he was a cat seeking reassurance. She had never seen her sharp-tongued gargoyle rattled, and this upset her as much as seeing her beautiful shop destroyed. Horace could be a pain in the neck, but he didn’t deserve to feel like this. She was only grateful he’d had the sense to hide, since Horace was too proud to admit he was a coward and would run from danger if he felt the least bit threatened. She didn’t think anything could happen to him, but that didn’t mean someone might not have tried.
“Did you deck Carrie? Tell me you rearranged her ugly face,” Horace begged, wiping his nose against Stasi’s sleeve. “I didn’t hear her voice when they broke into the stores, but we know the shrew had to have been behind it, right? How about warts? Did you at least give her warts or some disgusting skin disease that no dermatologist in the world can cure?”
“I didn’t touch her, but I did let her know there’s nothing she can do to scare me.” Stasi reached into the small refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of lime-flavored sparkling water. She handed one to Jazz, who unscrewed the cap and drank deeply.
“What I saw out there was a woman so filled with hate that no other emotion could have found its way inside her.” Jazz set her bottle on the desk. “When you said things were upset around here and told me what happened to the lake, I thought it was nothing more than someone messing up a spell and that Carrie was nothing more than an empty-headed twit who wanted this lawsuit because she has a grudge against you. She’s a twit, all right, but she’s not empty-headed. She’s beyond that. She’s making serious trouble for you, Stasi. That’s why I found a wizard lawyer for you. He’s not afraid to go up against Trevor Barnes, either.”
Stasi idly ran her finger along the length of the cold plastic bottle. “I saw that kind of hate in Salem Village in 1692,” she murmured. “It was a dark time back then. Once the accusations and trials started, people grew afraid they would be targeted next, so they would accuse someone else, even if it was a family member or close friend, to divert suspicion. As a result, so many were hurt and tortured, others died, and they all carried one sort of pain or another. I don’t think one person was unaffected by the time it was over. It was bad in Europe with the witch finders, too. Look what Witch Finder Matthew Hopkins did in 1644. People now think he was nothing more than a character in a movie, when we all know he was so much more and many innocent people were killed because of him. The problem with Salem Village was that it was such a small area that it took no time at all for fear to spread like a plague.”
“I wish you had contacted one of us back then,” Jazz whispered, easily feeling the hurt within Stasi’s heart. “We had no idea what was going on there until it was over. For Fates sake, Stasi, we could have lost you to that mob!” Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
“But you didn’t lose me. I dampened my magick and did my best to seem harmless. As long as I was in Salem Village I had to be so careful that I didn’t do anything that would draw attention. I’m sure they would have seen my leaving there as a sign of guilt.” Her eyes grew dark with past terror. “I didn’t feel safe for the next hundred years. Sleep wasn’t easy to come by and the nightmares took even longer to leave me.”
Jazz’s expression of horror echoed Stasi’s. Not that long ago she’d had her own bad dreams to deal with. She had been able to destroy a part of her enemy and had to grudgingly deal with the other part, but she’d had Nick and others to help her. Stasi had been alone then with only her dread of being targeted for company.
“Don’t let anyone rob you of your power,” she advised. “Believe me, if anybody knows what feeling powerless is like, it’s me.”
Stasi couldn’t help but smile. “As I well know. That forty-eight hours of you without your magick was not a pleasant time.”
“And you think it was fun for me? I was never so glad as when I got up that morning and found that face-covering zit gone.” Jazz drank some more of her water. “What do you want, Stasi? Do you want the attorney I found for you, so you can trounce Carrie in court? Because I can’t see her lawsuit going anywhere but down the toilet. Do you want all of us to go out there and band together to bring the lake back to life and find out the source of those lights and who, or what, caused that barrier? Do you want to walk away from here and never look back? What feels right to you?”
Stasi used the time to drink more water. She would have killed for a cup of coffee, but the vandals had smashed the coffeemaker to bits and she was too tired to conjure up a cup.
“I want the town to go back to the way it was,” she said finally. “I want people to smile and say hello to each other like they used to. I don’t want fear to settle in here and I don’t want anger to rule their lives.”
“They’re human, Stasi. They’re ruled by their emotions.”
“So are we.” She looked at Horace who had finally sidled over to the edge of the desk and curled up in a ball, fast asleep. His snores were loud enough to wake the dead. She hadn’t seen Bogie down here and gathered that the dog had been smart and stayed upstairs. “Magick doesn’t rule our lives. It enriches us.”
“Tell that to humans who are only interested in a good hex to take out an enemy or at least make them miserable. Don’t forget that I’ve met more than my share.”
Stasi reached across the desk and took Jazz’s hands in hers. “All humans aren’t like that. Thank you for being here, Jazz. Blair tends to let her temper loose and while she doesn’t mean to, things usually only get worse.”
Jazz had to laugh at that, since her Irish temper was legendary. “And I don’t?”
She smiled. “Yes, but you stepped back and let me handle Carrie on my own, even though I’m sure you wanted to take a bite out of her. That meant a lot.”
Jazz waved away her thanks. “I only did what was right. She’s your fight and you need to be the one to battle her. I know why Blair feels she needs to step in. She wants to protect you. We all do. You’re our sweetheart witch. Until Carrie got under your skin, you would never say anything bad against anyone. You see the good in someone no matter how deep it might lie. Because of your soft-hearted nature we always felt you couldn’t fight your own battles, but now you’re showing that you can, and you’re displaying an impressive amount of teeth when you’re doing it. You don’t need our protection anymore. You do just fine on your own, and I’m so proud of you. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s go on to a more pleasurable subject.” Her eyes twinkled with wicked laughter. “Tell all about the hot wizard. Does he kiss as good as he looks?” She laughed when she saw her friend’s blush start along her forehead and travel down her face to her throat. “You didn’t? You did!” Fluff and Puff chortled along with her. “You had your way with the man.”
“It was sort of mutual,” she admitted.
“Hello? Stasi?”
“Ginny!” Stasi was never so glad for an interruption. She jumped to her feet and ran out of the office with Jazz following her.
The lovely Asian woman stepped carefully through the mess holding a drink carrier with coffee cups and a bag. She smiled at Nick, who was busy using the video camera to record the extent of the damage.
“Oh Stasi,” she moaned softly, shock widening her eyes. “Hello, Jazz.” She held up the carrier and bag. “I thought you might need caffeine and sustenance. I baked them fresh this morning.” She looked around the trashed shop. “I think I should have brought a bulldozer instead. How could someone do this?”
Jazz immediately latched onto the coffee and oohed and ahhed over the pastries in the bag before grabbing one. “This is perfect, thank you.”
“Carrie is out of control,” Ginny said flatly, turning back to Stasi.
“There’s no proof she was behind this,” Stasi murmured, sipping the hot coffee with a sigh of relief and allowing the caffeine to flood her system.
“I bet we could find proof if we did a little searching.” Jazz had a lemon Danish in her mouth and coffee in one hand while she busied herself piling the shredded books in one corner.
“No. This isn’t all her doing.” Stasi paused to stare at the basket of delicate sachets that were soaking wet. She didn’t even want to think how they got that way.
Both women stared at her.
“You don’t just mean she had help from someone, do you?” Jazz said.
Ginny looked from one to the other. “Um, no offense but you two are scaring me.”
“Don’t be scared,” Stasi told her then muttered, “Not now!” when she spied two visitors coming to the shop.
“Oh my.” Poppy stood in the open doorway, her hands covering her mouth while her eyes went wide with shock. “Oh Stasi, this is terrible. Your beautiful shop is destroyed.” She tiptoed inside with her sister, Rhetta, walking more slowly behind her. Poppy was dressed in pink wool leggings and a pink, blue, and yellow print sweater. Her blond hair was pulled up in a frizzy ponytail secured with a pink velvet ribbon. Rhetta was more sedately attired in olive jeans and a cream turtleneck sweater. Her leaf-green gaze slid sideways to Ginny and centered on the bag that Ginny still held.
“Is there any way we can help?” Rhetta asked.
“No, but thank you for asking.”
Jazz studied the two newcomers as she hoisted herself up to sit on the counter.
“Hello, I’m Poppy Palmer.” Poppy directed a bright smile to Jazz. “And this is my sister, Amaretto, but we all call her Rhetta. I own the bakery, Fresh Baked Goods, with our brother, Reed.”
“Jazz Tremaine. I’m a good friend of Stasi’s,” she said. “A group of us came up for the Halloween fun. It’s nice to meet you.”
Stasi almost smiled at Jazz using the human term instead of Samhain, which they celebrated every October. But the way things were going, she feared this year their celebration wasn’t to be.
Poppy stared at Jazz’s face and subtly backed off even though Jazz wasn’t displaying any aggression.
“Well, you must come down to our bakery for coffee and some of our wonderful pastries. Our brother Reed whipped up some marvelous pumpkin spice muffins today that will be coming out of the oven any time now.” She waggled her fingers at Stasi. “Honey, if you need any help at all, you call us, okay? I know Carrie is trying to make things difficult for you, but not all of us believe you’re that way. I mean, if you were, we’d all be in danger, wouldn’t we?” She looked around at the disaster that had once been Stasi’s pride and joy. “Some people just don’t understand.”
“Thank you.” Stasi deliberately didn’t say she’d call because she deplored lies and that would have been a whopper. She had no plans to call on anyone. And she especially wouldn’t call on anyone who lived in this town, not even Ginny, because she didn’t know if her friend would eventually turn against her, too. Stasi had seen it happen before. Right now, she didn’t know who she could trust other than the ones she felt closest to.
***
“You’re supposed to be working for me,” Carrie spat out as Trev marched her up the sidewalk. “So why did you have dinner with that bitch? You better not have tried to persuade her to settle, because I want her in court. And there’s no way I’ll drop this case. She’s playing with peoples’ lives and I don’t want to see it happening any longer.”
“Watch it, Carrie,” he warned. Feeling his anger building up, he stopped and jerked her around to face him. “You have treaded a very fine line before, but if you had anything to do with the destruction of those shops, you have gone beyond the pale.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong. She probably trashed her own store, so she could blame it on me.”
If Carrie had looked at Trev at that moment, his expression would have struck real fear into her heart. Instead, she felt a sense of suffocation surround her. It was only momentary, but it gave her pause. She breathed easier when the sensation was removed. She immediately knew he had caused it.
“I should have gone to Wizard Fitzroy,” she muttered. “He would have seen the truth about Stasi and done something about it. She wouldn’t have been able to seduce him.”
Trev felt the air in his lungs turn to ice. The idea that she was accusing him of impropriety was bad enough, although he knew he was likewise walking a fine line where Stasi was concerned. But the wizard attorney she referred to was infamous for fighting dirty in the courtroom and managing to get away with it. He was also well known for hating witches with a passion and had declared more than once the world would be a better place without them. He also enjoyed dealing with humans. Trev figured it was because humans were in awe of Fitzroy, and there was nothing the pompous ass liked more than feeling as if he was a god.
Trev considered him a bully of the first degree. He hated going up against him in court and partied hearty when he won, but each court battle was hard won due to the wizard’s trickery.
“Consider yourself lucky you didn’t retain him, Carrie,” he said in a dangerously soft voice. “You would have learned the price was too high.”
Her smile was just as deadly. “Maybe you should have fucked her and gotten it out of your system. Otherwise, you’re no good to me.” She jerked her arm out of his punishing grip and walked away. “Ow!” She jumped and spun around, facing him with hatred in her eyes.
“Who knew mosquitoes would show up this time of year. Remember what I’ve said, Carrie. I fight fair and win. I wouldn’t have taken this case if I didn’t believe in the merits of it. But don’t push me and don’t try to take matters into your own hands.”
Carrie didn’t say a word. She turned back around and stalked off, finally turning into Fresh Baked Goods.
Trev blew out a cleansing breath but didn’t feel any calmer. It wasn’t like him to be at odds with a client, no matter what his personal opinion of them might be, but Carrie was as vindictive as he’d ever seen. He knew what she was doing in the bakery and hated her for not allowing him to keep control of the matter. He was tempted to walk right past the business, but he also wanted to know what was going on.
He drew a deep breath and walked inside, inhaling the scent of yeast, sugar, spices, chocolate, and various fruits, but he also sensed fury there and a strong taint of fear. Ordinarily, he would have found the bakery part of the fragrance tempting his taste buds, but his anger with Carrie had killed any semblance of an appetite and the fury and fear filled his stomach with acid. The counter was busy with customers buying breads and pastries while the separate counter for coffee was equally busy. He stopped there for a cup of French roast and found an empty table in the corner.
“She and her friends will take over the town. Take us over,” Carrie groused from another table where she sat with a large muffin and coffee in front of her. “Sometimes I think they had the right idea in Europe by burning witches.” Trevor was shocked to hear this sentiment was met with cheering. “Have any of you been out to the lake? There’s something wrong there. I don’t know what, but I’m sure they have something to do with it and we’ve got to stop them!”
Trev straightened up at that. It took all of his willpower to keep his spell around him, but something must have leaked out because Carrie noticed him in his corner. He made an effort to offer her a bland smile. She nodded back warily as if wondering at the change in his demeanor.
“More coffee?” The woman who’d been manning the coffee counter approached. “We offer free refills.”
He looked into her leaf green eyes and saw interest there along with something else he couldn’t figure out.
“Thanks.” He hadn’t realized he’d already drunk half the cup until then.
“I’m Amaretto Palmer. Rhetta for short.” She filled his cup. “You look like an almond Danish man.” She gestured toward the pastry counter.
“I’m not much for sweets,” he lied. He knew from then on the only sweets he’d care for was chocolate soufflé shared with Stasi.
“You should give it a try. I think you’d enjoy it.” She paused. “So tell me, how does a wizard lawyer deal with a human woman?” She nodded toward Carrie.
Why did he feel as if that wasn’t the question she really wanted to ask?
“We’re no different than any everyday attorney. We handle a lot of the same type of cases. A few different ones, of course.” He quickly finished his coffee. When Rhetta lifted the pot, he gave her a charming smile and shook his head. “I have some work to do. Excellent coffee, by the way. I’ll have to stop in again.” He knew she would think he’d be stopping in for more than the coffee, but that was fine if he ever needed her as a source of information. He was going to need all his resources to discover what was going on among the townspeople. It appeared the bakery was a good place for that.
“Please do,” she murmured, moving on.
Trev sucked in more cleansing breaths as he headed for his car. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and hit the speed dial.
“It’s the weekend,” Mae announced without any form of greeting.
“And I want this in play first thing on Monday,” he told her. “No more cases with humans, plaintiffs or defendants, and I don’t give a damn what part of the magickal community is involved. Refer any of them to Fitzroy.”
“Give me something new to do. I’ve been doing that since the first day that woman walked into the office.” She hung up without another word.
Trev stared at his phone as if it was a creature he’d never encountered before.
“Damn that woman. She never lets me have the last word.”