Chapter 2
THE TEXTS STARTED the next morning.
Ding...Ding...
I stared at the third apology in ten minutes and cursed Bjorn for giving Max my number. He liked to think he was Cupid’s hotter, younger brother but most of the time, his would-be matchmaking efforts ended up in shambles.
I’m sorry. I sounded like a jerk was the first one.
I ignored it, returning to my book. Five minutes later came, Please forgive me. Can we have coffee?
Again, ignore. But five minutes after that: Pretty please? I’ll even let you smack me for that tiger comment I made.
I glared at the screen, then—with a sigh—texted back, You aren’t going to stop until I say something, are you?
No, I’m not.
Well, at least he was honest.
You know that’s really kind of creepy and stalkerish?
Tigers stalk creatures they’re interested in.
Again, his answer threw me, but I couldn’t help but snicker. I stared at the message, then slowly texted back, That’s even more creepy. I’ll forgive you if you quit bugging me.
All right. But...coffee? One coffee, at the coffee shop. You get bored or angry, I’ll never bother you again. Please, give me another chance.
Finally, I relented. Just a little. You’re persistent. I’ll say that for you.
I learned everything I know from my mother. This afternoon at three? Or any time you like.
Deciding that if worse came to worse, I could ditch him. And if he really became a problem, I could turn him into a kitten, I slowly tapped out, All right. Coffee at Joe’s. Fourth and Elm. Meet me at four today and don’t be late. Now stop texting me. I’ve got a busy day.
One final message lit up the screen. Yes Ma’am.
With a laugh, I shook my head and waded into my day.
I WAS PRACTICING my yoga when my phone let out a beep, indicating a text. I was in the middle of Downward Facing Dog and was about to ignore it, but my inner alarm tingled, so I struggled out of the pose, steadying myself as I stood up. I glanced at the message. It was from Jenna.
We’re heading up to Paulson’s Peak. It’s cold. I’d rather be drinking hot cocoa with you.
I smiled at that. Denny had wanderlust and was a real go getter, but Jenna sure didn’t take after her. She was a quiet girl who got good grades and would rather be curled up reading a book or practicing her magic than dashing up mountains.
I’m sorry I said you could go. We’ll spend this evening together, okay?
Thanks. It’s awfully cold out here and I’m having trouble keeping up. See you later.
I texted back, See you tonight, and then set the phone down. I wasn’t the motherly type, but with Maddy out of town, the weekend seemed long and rather humdrum. Maybe an evening with Jenna could be fun. We could watch a movie, eat pizza, talk about boys or whatever it was young girls were talking about now.
Suddenly feeling at loose ends, I started to text Maddy to ask how the weekend was going, then stopped. I didn’t want to interrupt her weekend.
“What’s shaking, boss?” Alex entered the room, frowning as he saw the paused DVD and me staring at my phone. “What’s wrong?”
I looked up as he spoke, then shook my head. “Nothing. Just...Jenna’s coming over tonight so if you could find some movie that she might like and make a note to order pizza and...well, I can’t very well serve her booze. Soda, I guess? Also cookies.”
“Can do. You want me to pick her up after school?”
“You’re a dear. Thanks, Alex.” And with that, I cut my session short, turned off the TV and headed for the shower.
BEDLAM WAS A magical community as well as island. Located in the San Juans out in the Haro Strait off the coast of western Washington State, the island was the furthest one north. It jogged just enough to be out of the rain shadow, and received plenty of the Pacific Northwest’s famous precipitation. The magical energy that permeated the island and its inhabitants sang siren songs to storms, luring them in. In fact, Bedlam was an anomaly with regards to how much snow it received each winter—a lot—and how gusty even normal windstorms were—incredibly harsh.
The town had been founded by witches, and was home to a number of Pretcoms—members of the preternatural community. Witches and Weres, shifters and Fae, and even a few vampires made up the majority of inhabitants. But Bedlam had the charm of small town Americana meets a slightly nightmare version of the Smurfs’ enchanted village.
I had lived in this town for a long time, since the 1950s when Maddy and I formed the Moonrise Coven along with Linda Realmwood, who had been High Priestess until a tangled mess and murder had put an end to that. Linda had vanished into the Witches Protection Program, and Maddy had moved to the island and taken over the position.
Now, life felt a lot more complete. We were both establishing new milestones, and I wondered just what adventures would be coming next for me.
“LIHI? LIHI?” I was nearly out the door on my way to meet Max when I realized that I needed Lihi to run a couple of errands. Alex could have done them, but he was busy with other tasks.
A few seconds later, Lihi appeared, landing on my shoulder. Startled, I jumped.
“I win!” She laughed.
We had developed a game. The homunculus would do her best to catch me off guard, and I tried to be ready for her. I seldom won, but she found it amusing and I liked making her happy.
Lihi was about twelve inches high, as tall as a Barbie doll, and a real cutie. She had a petite figure, great gauzy bat wings and tufted ears, and a rat-like tail. She wore a bright pink halter and leather shorts, and we had been buddies for four years.
Actually, she was my indentured servant. We had signed a seven-year contract and so far, it had worked out quite well. She was funny, ate like a trucker, and in her world, the crystals I paid her in were as good as gold. In return, Lihi performed all sorts of tasks for me from the mundane to the magical. She was on the spot when I needed her, and did excellent work. Win-win all the way around. But I was careful to never overwork her. A happy homunculus was a helpful one.
“Yes, Mistress?” She settled down on my shoulder.
I grinned. “How are you feeling today?”
“Better. My stomach settled.” Lihi had eaten her weight in cherries the day before and had come down with a horrible stomach ache. But homunculi healed up fast.
“I have a task for you. If you would please sort through my magical cupboard and see what herbs I’m running low on, I’d appreciate it. Also, I need to know if I have any more knotting ropes for the wind. We’re supposed to be getting a storm front coming in tonight—heavy snow and wind—and I want to be prepared.”
She nodded, a quick, abrupt nod as was her way, and fluttered in front of me. “As you will, Mistress.” Before I could speak, she vanished.
As I cinched the belt on my coat, I thought I was pretty damned lucky. I had everything I could want, and even though I wasn’t in a relationship, I had something better: good friends.
MAX WAS WAITING at Joe’s when I arrived. He had his own coffee and had saved a table for us, but had held off on ordering for me, which I was grateful for. I hated it when men decided they knew what I wanted to eat or drink. I stopped at the counter and asked for a quad shot chocolate-chocolate peppermint mocha, and a brownie, then wended my way through the crowds.
He stood as I approached and actually walked around the table to pull my chair out for me. “Hello again.”
“Hello again yourself.” I sat down. “Thank you. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long.”
“Not at all. You look good enough to eat.” His gaze slinked over my body, then he caught himself and rubbed his forehead. “I did it again, didn’t I?”
“Dude...” I shook my head.
I wanted to tell him to can the sleazy lines, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was just awkward. Just because a person had money didn’t
mean they were adept at the social graces. I slid into the the opposite chair and, setting down my drink, slipped off my coat. As I took a long sip of the mocha, I glanced outside. It had been snowing hard all day.
“Sorry...I know...that was cheesy.”
“Looks like our storm came in after all.” I wasn’t sure what to say. The only thing that we had in common so far was that we were both business owners. “You realize that if this hits as hard as it’s supposed to, we’re probably going to be closing up shop for a few days.”
“Could the weathermen be wrong?”
“Not ours. Not from our local station. They’re weather witches and they tend to be extraordinarily tuned into the center of the coming storms. I know one of them—Alicia Jones—and she gets migraines when big systems are pulling in. She’s been laid out for three days now since they first noticed the front forming. It’s going to be a bear.”
Max regarded me quietly for a moment, then said, “I suppose I’d better plan accordingly, then.” He played with the pound cake on his plate for a moment. “Okay, twice now I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth. I know that we got off to a bad start and it’s my fault. Can we just clear the air and start again?”
He sounded so earnest that I couldn’t help but yield. I let out a long breath and sat back, relaxing.
“All right. Let’s start over.” I reached out. “Hi, I’m Sandy Clauson, welcome to Bedlam.”
Max took my hand and shook it gently. “Max Davenport. It’s nice to meet you and thank you for agreeing to have coffee with me.”
He smiled and, once again, the room seemed to brighten. He really did have a gorgeous set of teeth and when he smiled, he looked positively endearing. Today he was wearing jeans and a knit sweater. Without the three-piece suit, he looked much more comfortable.
“So tell me, why did you decide to open a clothing shop?”
He shrugged. “I know a number of shifters who have unique needs. Sure we can find clothes to fit, but when we change shape, our clothes don’t change with us. We have to continually take them on and off and the fabric goes through a lot of wear and tear. If we have to shift quickly, it’s difficult to shed them in time so unless the releases—zippers, buttons, etc.—are easily accessible and well made, the outfit can rip if we can’t shed it in time.”
I had never really thought about the mechanics before. While I was friends with a number of Weres, I hadn’t thought much about the process involved.
“That makes sense. So you design the outfits?”
Max shook his head. “No. But I hire a couple of Weres who are good at fashion design. They create the designs, then send them to the factory. This isn’t my first go around. I own six boutiques around the nation. This is the seventh. And we also sell through an online outlet. I decided to move to Bedlam when I came visiting last year to scout out locations for the shop. I fell in love with the town and...” He paused, staring down into his coffee cup. “Ever since my wife died, I have nothing left to tie me to San Diego. I have a lifetime of memories to leave behind.”
The words came out raw, the pain behind them all too real. I pressed my lips together, thinking about all the people I had lost over the years. When you lived for centuries, the numbers added up all too quickly.
Finally, I cleared my throat and said, “What was her name? What was she like?”
He let out slow breath. “Do you really want to know?”
I nodded. “Tell me.”
“Gracie. She was a witch. I thought the morning sun rose and set by her whims. She was good to everybody, and kind. But she was no pushover. Gracie was killed in a car crash. We went up to Lake Tahoe for a vacation. The second morning, I had a headache so decided to sleep in. Gracie went out for an early morning drive. Some idiot who couldn’t keep from playing hotshot rounded the curve too quickly. Gracie swerved to avoid him and the car plunged off the road, over the guard railing.”
“Oh no.” I instantly envisioned her lying there in the midst of crumpled metal, bleeding out. Another second, and I realized I had tuned into Max’s memory somehow. I gently disengaged before he realized somebody was mucking around in his thoughts.
“I felt her die, we were so attuned. I woke out of my sleep in a cold sweat, seeing her there, half-in, half-out of the burning car. By the time the first responders got there, she was gone. There wasn’t much left to bury.” The look on his face was bleak. “That was a year ago mid-June. A year and a half now, I guess.”
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured.
He poured another vial of cream into his coffee. “I blamed myself for a long time. If I had gone with her, maybe we would have taken a different route. Maybe I could have saved her. Maybe if I had just gotten up early, we could have gone out for a walk instead. But...one of the Aunties visited me—she had known Gracie. She told me “Maybes are like ghosts—they’re just memories of what might have been. You have to live for what is, not what’s gone.” That’s when I decided to leave San Francisco for a fresh start.”
There wasn’t much to say after that. I had no clue of where to go from there. But the conversation had done one thing for me: it had turned Max Davenport from a caricature to a real person for me. And I also realized his faux pas had been rooted in uncertainty over how to react.
After a few minutes, he leaned over and tapped my hand as I absently stared out the window at the falling snow. “So, tell me about you. I know you’re not married—divorced? Perpetual bachelorette?”
Startled, I laughed. “Oh, no. Not married—but I was. He discovered his inner gay man a few years ago and we parted ways. We managed to stay friends, although it took me awhile to get over finding one of our waiters wearing my bathrobe in my bedroom. But that’s long done. As for relationships since then? I tend to keep it light. I’ve never been the picket-fence type of woman.”
“Do you have kids?”
Laughing again, I shook my head. “Not really. Well, I’m taking care of a friend’s daughter while my friend’s on a world tour. Jenna is thirteen and attends Neverfall. In fact, she’s on a hike today.” I glanced out the window, suddenly worried. The wind and snow were blowing something fierce. “I hope to hell they’re back by now. The storm came in faster than they expected.”
“I’m sure she’ll be all right. The teachers must have the situation under control.” He paused, then, with a note of curiosity, asked, “What about relationships? Are you seeing anybody?”
I shook my head. “I was, briefly, but we work together better as friends. Right now, I’m running solo.” I motioned to the waitress. “More coffee, please, and will you bring me a ham sandwich? I’m feeling a bit peckish.”
Max seconded my order, and asked for two brownies. “You can’t forget dessert.”
Laughing, I pointed to the remains of my cookie. “What do you think that was?”
“An appetizer?”
Taken off guard again by his good-natured grin, I slumped back against my chair, deciding to ditch the wariness. Max seemed a good sort, and I was actually enjoying his company. He was also easy on the eyes, but that wasn’t the be-all and end-all for me.
We launched into a discussion of Bedlam and I ended up offering to show him around town by the time our sandwiches arrived. I was about to launch into the history of the town when my phone rang.
I glanced at the Caller ID. Alex. He knew I was busy and wouldn’t interrupt without good reason, so I motioned to Max. “Excuse me, I should probably take this.” I moved off to one side to take the call.
“What’s up?”
“I’m so glad you picked up.” Alex sounded frantic. “It’s about Jenna.”
I stiffened. “What’s wrong?”
“She got separated from her class,” he interrupted. “Sandy, she’s lost up on Paulson’s Peak, in the storm. You need to come home, now.”
Chapter 3
MAX INSISTED ON accompanying me back to the house and I didn’t try to dissuade him. He rode with me, and
I drove since he didn’t know where I lived. When he grabbed hold of the dashboard I realized that he hadn’t ever ridden with me before. I also realized I might be giving him a flashback and slowed down.
“Don’t worry. I have a spell on the car that will keep us from running into anybody or thing.”
“Uh...huh.” He didn’t sound too sure.
As we rounded the last bend, I spun into the driveway, slammed on the brakes, and was out the door in under a minute. The snow was deep but I was used to tromping around in it, and I didn’t wait for Max, just bounded toward the door. Alex must have been waiting because he opened it for me. He glanced beyond me and seemed to be surprised to see Max, but wisely said nothing, just held the door for the weretiger as he entered.
“What happened? Tell me everything.” I tugged off my coat and tossed it to the side.
“I just got back from shopping when the phone rang. It was the school. They said that the storm was so bad that the teacher didn’t realize Jenna had fallen behind until they reached the bus. That’s when he saw that she wasn’t with the group.”
“How the hell could he not know she wasn’t with them? Didn’t he keep track of where the kids? Didn’t he have an aide with him to watch their backs?” Both livid and frantic, I pushed aside the papers on the desk and set up my tablet. I pulled up my maps program and typed in Paulson’s Peak, watching as it brought up a schematic of it.
“I don’t know. They’ve tried calling her cell phone over and over, but no answer. There’s reception up there, but it’s spotty because of both the geography and the storm.”
I pulled out my phone and put in a call to her, but it just forwarded me to voice mail. Neither did the Friend-Finder app show where she was. The locator kept spinning and finally spitted out “No location possible.”
“Damn it. Either she has no reception, or her phone ran out of juice. I’ve got to head up there. Did the teacher say where they were?”