Hemlocked and Loaded

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Hemlocked and Loaded Page 12

by Annabel Chase


  “Thank you,” I replied. “I’m still getting used to wearing it.”

  Pomona held up a naked finger. “My fingers are like fat sausages thanks to water retention, so my ring is safely in a warded drawer so the boys can’t get to it. The last thing I need is to rush one of them to the healer for swallowing a diamond.”

  “Our boys are very oral,” Sean added.

  Pomona seemed to notice the tears in her husband’s eyes for the first time. “Are you okay, Sean? Dear gods. Did they find out who did it? Is that why Emma’s here?”

  “Unfortunately not,” he said, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “Emma came to ask me about the letter. She knew I took it from Seamus’s house.”

  Pomona closed her eyes for a moment, realizing the enormity of the situation. “I made him write it. He didn’t want to.” She rushed to her husband’s side. “You’re not here to arrest him, are you? I know how it must look, but, I swear, he’s innocent.”

  “I believe you,” I replied. Based on everything I’d seen and heard, I had no doubt Sean wasn’t the killer. “I only needed to clear up a misunderstanding.”

  “But you’re no closer to finding the murderer, are you?” Sean asked, his disappointment evident.

  “Not yet, but we will, Sean,” I said soothingly. “It may take a little time, but we’ll get there in the end. We always do.”

  After much persuasion, I finally convinced Daniel to agree to dinner with Begonia and Demetrius. Although I knew Demetrius wasn’t his favorite paranormal, Dem and Begonia were serious now and I wanted the four of us to be able to go out together.

  Due to the special occasion, Demetrius suggested the Secret Garden. It was one of the more upscale restaurants in town, so it seemed an appropriate choice.

  “Emma tells me Spelled Ink is coming along nicely,” Daniel said.

  We sat at a square table overlooking the courtyard garden. It was an ideal spot to paranormal watch as well as admire the vibrant plants and flowers.

  Begonia could barely contain her excitement. “Other than your wedding, I haven’t been this enthusiastic about anything in ages.”

  Demetrius clutched his heart in mock agony. “Ouch.”

  She looked horrified. “I didn’t mean to suggest…”

  He chuckled. “I’m teasing you, my love. You don’t need to stroke my ego.”

  “That’s right,” Daniel said. “Demetrius does it often enough by himself.”

  I kicked Daniel under the table and he stifled a groan.

  Demetrius took Daniel’s barb in stride. “The food is amazing here. I’ve never been disappointed.”

  “Maybe they could cater your wedding,” Begonia suggested.

  “That’s part of the problem,” I said. “We want to hire everywhere in town, but it’s only one wedding.”

  “What about having the reception at the Mayor’s Mansion?” Demetrius said. “Paranormals used to hold events there, although Mayor Knightsbridge had clamped down on it in recent years. Now that she’s gone, it might be time to revisit the idea.”

  The Mayor’s Mansion was a gorgeous building and I knew Lucy would respond favorably. “That’s a great idea, Dem. We’ll have to think about it.”

  “Do you know anything about your parents’ wedding?” Begonia asked. “Any customs or traditions?” She leaned forward, her eyes glittering. “Do the letters say whether your biological parents were married? It would be wonderful if you could incorporate something from both.”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “I haven’t read the letters yet.”

  Begonia flew back against her chair. “What do you mean you haven’t read them yet?”

  Daniel placed a comforting hand over mine. “She’s taking her time.”

  Begonia seemed to grasp the situation. “That’s understandable. I’m sure it’s quite scary.”

  “If you want an impartial third party to read them first,” Demetrius said, “I’m happy to oblige. I can prepare you for the contents.”

  “Thanks, Dem. That’s sweet of you, but I just need Daniel next to me and a cup of tea. Then I’ll be ready.”

  “That can be arranged,” Daniel said. “You only need to say the word.”

  “I know.” I speared a piece of asparagus and shoved it into my mouth. I didn’t want to have to defend myself.

  “Your fear is natural, Emma,” Demetrius said. “Everyone fears change to one degree or another. It’s whether we push through the fear and don’t let it dictate our behavior that matters.”

  “What makes you think it’s a fear of change?” Daniel asked.

  “Because whatever information is included in those letters threatens to change Emma’s perception of her mother,” Demetrius explained. “It might even change her understanding of her adoptive parents. What if the letters say that her biological mother wanted a relationship with her, but the adoptive parents refused? That type of knowledge would color Emma’s view of the Harts forever.”

  My gut twisted. “I hadn’t even considered that possibility. I’ve been more concerned about the reason my mother gave me up.”

  Demetrius appeared contrite. “I’m terribly sorry, Emma. I wasn’t trying to put negative ideas into your head.”

  “No worries, Dem,” I replied. “And you’re right about my fear of change. I do think it’s interfering with my ability to move forward. That’s why the letters are sitting there unopened.”

  “I bet Gareth reads them when you’re not home,” Daniel said.

  My jaw unhinged. “He would never!”

  Daniel laughed. “I’m kidding. Of course he wouldn’t. Gareth is the most trustworthy vampire I know, even when he was alive…or at least not dead undead.”

  The server stopped by the table to inquire about our meals.

  “My compliments to the chef,” Demetrius said. “I haven’t had borscht this good in…” He stroked his chin, thinking. “Let’s just say before I came to Spellbound.”

  “Geena will be pleased to hear it,” the server said. “I know she took ages getting the recipe right. She’s a real perfectionist.”

  “I hate to ask, but do you think she’d share the recipe?” Demetrius asked. “I’d love to make it at home sometime.”

  Begonia’s eyes lit up. “That’s a terrific idea.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” The server retreated to the kitchen with the plates that had been scraped clean.

  “So I have an idea for Daniel’s bachelor party if anyone’s interested,” I announced.

  “Does it involve a succubus and pompoms?” Demetrius asked.

  Begonia elbowed him gently. “That sounds very specific.”

  Daniel grinned encouragingly. “Let’s hear it then.”

  “How about a magician?” I asked.

  No one responded.

  “A magician can do all sorts of tricks,” I continued. “Olaf’s a master illusionist. He’d be great entertainment.”

  Daniel and Demetrius exchanged frowns.

  “Do you want to address this one or shall I do it?” Demetrius asked him.

  Daniel cleared his throat. “Emma, darling, as much as I love that you’re thinking about my bachelor party and clearly thinking about how to help some magician realize his dreams, I’m not sure magic tricks make sense when entertaining a group of magic users.”

  “You’re an angel,” I said. “You don’t perform magic. And Demetrius is a vampire.”

  “Yes, but we won’t be the only two there,” Daniel said. “And magic or no magic, I do have enviable skills.”

  “But Olaf makes things appear magical without actually using magic,” I protested. “That’s a real skill.”

  Daniel straightened. “Are you suggesting that flying is not a real skill?”

  “Not at all,” I replied. It’s just not one that I enjoy. “Except you have wings. It’s kind of obvious why you can soar majestically through the air.”

  Daniel cocked an eyebrow. “Majestically, huh?”

  “I’ll tell you
what, Emma,” Demetrius said. “I’m going to help out with Daniel’s party. I’ll see how I can incorporate some of Olaf’s…magic.”

  Daniel appeared shocked. “You are? Why would you do that?” I understood his surprise. Daniel and Demetrius weren’t exactly the best of friends.

  Demetrius shrugged. “What kind of vampire would I be if I didn’t step in to organize an incredible all-nighter?”

  My eyebrows shot up. “An all-nighter? Is that necessary?”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Not necessary,” Demetrius said with a wink. “But very, very fun.”

  I spotted the chef as she emerged from the kitchen and headed straight to our table. She was a slight woman of average height—her most noticeable quality was the huge smile plastered across her face.

  “Hi, I’m Geena,” she said. “Monique said you asked about my borscht recipe.”

  Demetrius grinned and I caught a glimpse of his impressive fangs. “It’s honestly the best thing I’ve tasted in decades.” He stopped and brushed a finger lightly against Begonia’s cheek. “Present company excepted.”

  “Thank you so much. That’s a huge compliment,” Geena said. “I take great pride in my recipes.”

  “As you should,” Demetrius said.

  Geena fixed her attention on me. “I understand you’ve got your work cut out for you with my ex.”

  I blinked. “Your ex?”

  “Tomlin, my ex-boyfriend,” she said. “Someone told me you’re representing him in a trespassing case.”

  I suddenly realized why her name sounded familiar. “Yes, I am. It’s all a big misunderstanding, though. He was just scavenging for vegetables for a stew.”

  Geena burst into laughter. “Tomlin? Cooking a stew?”

  “That’s right,” I said. “Now I understand why he didn’t know how to make anything. With a cook like you in the house, it would’ve been a wasted effort.”

  She folded her arms and gave a crisp nod. “The kitchen was my domain. Tomlin just got in the way. He didn’t know parsley from oregano. It was too distracting to have him there, constantly asking questions.”

  Her attitude reminded me of my grandmother. I wasn’t allowed near the kitchen when she was cooking. Too much of a hindrance in her eyes, whereas I would have loved to have helped.

  “He knows how to cook now,” I said. “He’s been working hard to teach himself. It seems like he took your…departure hard and has been trying to find productive ways to work through his grief. Apparently learning to cook has been a helpful distraction.”

  Geena’s expression mellowed. “So he’s managed to climb out of his funk?” Her voice softened. “Good for him.”

  “Was he in a funk when you were still together?” I asked quietly. I didn’t want the nearby patrons to overhear us, but I was eager to get more information about my client. Maybe Geena could tell me something useful for Tomlin’s defense.

  “Not in the beginning,” she said. “It happened gradually. He wouldn’t want to do chores around the house. He seemed perpetually irritated by me. He said I made him feel like he couldn’t do anything right. And maybe I was a little hard on him, but our temperaments are so different. It never would’ve worked out between us in the long run.”

  “And then you met someone else?” I asked.

  She chewed her lip. “He’s the sous chef here. We’ve known each other for years, but he knew I was in a relationship with Tomlin so he never expressed his feelings.”

  “Until he did,” I said.

  “I’d been upset over Tomlin’s refusal to step up,” Geena said. “I was fed up with pushing for change and hitting a brick wall. Lamar said Tomlin was a fool not to put in the work. That I was worth every ounce of effort.” Her cheeks grew flushed. “I felt guilty for falling out of love with Tomlin, but Lamar and I truly are right for each other.”

  Begonia sighed happily. “I love a happy ending.”

  “Not such a happy ending for Tomlin,” Daniel murmured.

  “Tomlin’s moving on,” I said. “He worked out his dispute with Seamus before he died. He’s learning to cook and take care of himself.” I wiped my mouth with the napkin and set it on the table. “He’s excited about the future for the first time in a while.”

  “I’m glad for him,” Geena said. “I hope he meets someone special. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

  Under the table, Daniel’s hand grasped my knee and butterflies invaded my stomach. “I wholeheartedly agree,” he said.

  “If you promise not to share the recipe,” Geena began, “I’ll give it to you right now.”

  Demetrius’s fangs protruded and he held up his wrist. “I’m happy to make a blood oath.”

  Geena waved him off. “No, no. Health and safety will be all over me in a heartbeat. Your word is good enough.”

  Demetrius retracted his fangs. “Then I give you my word.”

  Chapter 14

  “Do you think it’s weird that I asked Daniel to have a magician at his bachelor party?” I asked. “He didn’t seem very excited about it.”

  “Don’t ask me. I think most of what you do is weird,” Gareth replied.

  “Says the vampire ghost watching me shave my legs.” I was seated on the edge of the bathtub in underpants and a T-shirt, running a razor down my legs.

  He shrugged. “You know those legs don’t interest me, nice as they are.”

  I carried on shaving. “I think it would be a boost to Olaf’s ego if he could show off his skills. Maybe he’ll climb out of his drug-addled stupor.”

  Gareth groaned. “Since when is Olaf on Emma’s Oversized List of Sympathetic Creatures?”

  “Since I met him,” I said. “He’s a very nice wizard who feels out of place in this world. You of all paranormals should understand that.”

  “You don’t have to appoint yourself the personal liaison to happiness,” Gareth said.

  “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing,” I snapped. “I didn’t hear you groaning when I accepted responsibility for Magpie. And he doesn’t even like me.” I didn’t mention the trust I was researching. I thought it might depress Gareth to contemplate Magpie’s fate without me.

  “That’s different,” Gareth sputtered. “He’s a magnificent creature and deserves every advantage in life.”

  “Magnificent is one word for him,” I muttered.

  Gareth took a sudden interest in the floor tiles. “I do wonder if maybe your inclination to be sympathetic is what’s at the heart of your relationship with the Winged Wonder.”

  I burst out laughing. “You think I fell in love with Daniel because I felt sorry for him? That’s ridiculous.”

  “Let’s be honest. He’s a bit of an Eeyore, isn’t he?” Gareth said.

  “He went through a downbeat phase,” I admitted, “but he’s in a much better place now. Volunteering and making amends for past actions have made an enormous difference to his outlook on life.”

  “And you,” Gareth added. “You can’t omit the most important factor.”

  “Do you have any thoughts about the reception?” I asked. “We could try to have it at Swan Lake, but that would be a huge undertaking because of the food.”

  “You liked Markos’s new place, didn’t you?” Gareth asked. “The one with the maze.”

  “Tiki Bar,” I said. “Yes, it’s very nice.” I smiled at him. “You just want an excuse to admire Markos in a suit.”

  “I don’t need an excuse,” Gareth objected. “I’m a ghost, remember? I can stalk him to my heart’s content.”

  “That’s not something I would advertise.”

  “Speaking of advertising, it would give the Tiki Bar a big boost, hosting a high-profile event. Markos would love you for it.” He hesitated. “Then again, he already loved you so…”

  “Stop it. He does not love me. And I think the Tiki Bar is a great idea. I’ll make an appointment for Daniel and I to go over there and check out the catering menu.” I nicked the skin near my ankle and blood trickled o
ut. “I hate when I do that.”

  “Don’t feel like you have to follow through with it,” Gareth said.

  “Go through with what?” I glanced down at my partially shaved legs. “I’ll look silly with stubble on half my legs.”

  He waved me off. “By the devil, no. Shaving those legs is an absolute necessity. I’m surprised you haven’t been mistaken for a shifter. I’m talking about the wedding.”

  I stopped shaving and peered up at him. “Wait, what? Why would I not go through with the wedding?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “All sorts of reasons. Maybe you tell me I’m right and that you’re only with him out of pity. You woke up one day and realized you didn’t like the way he slurped his tea. You decide you can’t possibly abide another fifty years of it.”

  I rinsed off the blood and resumed sliding the razor down my leg. “Daniel doesn’t slurp his tea.”

  “You’re missing the point. I only mean to say that if you decide to do a runner, I’ll have Sigmund ready and waiting. I should be able to manage a car by then. I’ve been practicing when you’re asleep.”

  “That…worries me,” I said. “Please don’t drive my car.”

  “It might come in handy at some point,” Gareth said. “Besides, your car is so different from the jalopies here. Quinty did an excellent job adapting it.”

  “And, in case you’ve forgotten, Daniel was the one who had Sigmund pulled from Swan Lake and asked Quinty to adapt it for Spellbound,” I said. “He’s always been thoughtful and sweet, since the moment I met him.”

  Gareth grumbled to himself, unable to drum up a decent argument. “Just bear it in mind. If you want to go, I’ll help you.”

  I laughed. “And where would I go? The other side of town? This is Spellbound, remember?”

  He crossed his arms and gave me a petulant look. “I’m your best friend. I care about your well-being.”

  I finished the last patch of skin and rinsed off my legs. “I appreciate the sentiment, but you know perfectly well that Daniel and I love each other. If two beings were ever destined to be together, it was us. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. This wedding will happen and I couldn’t be happier about it.”

 

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