Alec kept his focus on the computer screen. “Not quite yet.”
“If it’s much longer, I’ll be ready for bed.”
He cut a glance at me. “Then perhaps a movie isn’t a wise choice anyway.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a patient lady.”
“I’m in the midst of an important chapter and I’d rather not lose my focus.”
My jaw tightened. “I think you already have.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I exhaled. “It means that lately you seem to prefer to live in whatever world you’ve constructed for yourself. Am I even in it?”
“Very much. I told you I based my main character on someone very much like you.”
I spread my arms wide. “How about you spend time with the original and not the duplicate version of me? I’m much more interesting than the two-dimensional one.”
“I can assure you that my characters are well-rounded and believable.”
I bristled with irritation. “You’re missing the point.”
He offered a sad smile. “On the contrary. I think I should go now. It’s late and I don’t believe your mood will improve quickly enough to salvage the evening.”
“Oh, sure. It’s my fault the evening needs to be salvaged.” I crossed my arms. “Go chuckle over your fury book and I’ll talk to you when I turn in my interview. On time.”
The vampire didn’t argue. Wordlessly, he kissed me on the forehead and vacated the cottage. I dropped onto the couch in a huff.
Trouble in paradise, eh? Raoul emerged from the kitchen with a chicken drumstick and settled on the cushion beside me.
“Not trouble. Just a minor squabble. Happens to the best of couples.”
He’s not wrong about your scattershot approach to responsibility.
My shoulders tensed. “I don’t need another nagging voice in my head right now, thanks.” Instead of a Greek chorus, I had Greek critics.
It’s not a bad thing to recognize your flaws and try to improve them, is it?
“Not necessarily, but I don’t appreciate the way he did it. I’ve barely seen him lately except at work, so the last thing I need is for him to pick a fight with me.” He’d also made excuses to avoid attending couples therapy because of the demands of his new book and I got the sinking feeling that he was reconstructing the walls that I thought I’d broken down.
Methinks you need an accountability coach and it just so happens that I know the perfect someone to help you.
I looked sideways at my raccoon familiar. “First, if that someone is you, forget it. You can’t even hold yourself accountable not to eat food from my trashcan. Second, I would never hire anyone who uses the word ‘methinks.’”
Raoul gnawed on the meat. You need a voice of reason. Someone to tell you to put down that slice of pepperoni for breakfast and get dressed so you can get to work on time.
“It sounds like you want to be my boss. Sorry, friend. I fly solo.”
Semi-boss and no, you don’t. You work for your boyfriend and your psychotic aunt. You have goals you want to accomplish, but you’re too lazy to commit to them. I can help with that.
“And you really think you’re the one who can hold my feet to the fire?”
The raccoon shrugged his furry shoulders. Let’s face it. Marley can’t be relied on to do it. The kid has a soft spot when it comes to you.
“Well, I am her mother.”
He wrestled a hunk of meat off the bone and chewed. You don’t want to fight with Alec, right? And you don’t want to piss off Bentley by doing a worse job than he would. I don’t see what you have to lose.
“I don’t see either, but I’m sure it’ll become apparent soon enough.”
We can prioritize your goals. If you want to focus on health goals first, we can do that. Or personal relationships—that’s the one I’d suggest because you’re a mess on that front.
My mouth dropped open. “How am I a mess?”
He pointed his drumstick at the front door through which Alec had just fled.
I grunted my despair. “Fine, I’ll let you act as my accountability coach and see how it goes. A test run only.”
Awesome, so my first suggestion is to brush your teeth.
“It isn’t bedtime yet.”
I know, but your breath smells like rancid tomatoes. I think that’s the real reason your boyfriend left early. He just didn’t want to upset you.
“I think you’ll find he managed to upset me anyway.”
Oh, and I would lay off the dry shampoo. Your hair doesn’t seem compatible with it.
I looked at him askance. “Is that even possible? I thought it was for all hair types.”
Raoul pulled a face. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.
I touched my scalp. Dry shampoo had been a game changer, or so I’d thought.
And while we’re on the subject, your makeup doesn’t complement your skin tone.
“Now you’re a Mary Kay consultant?” I zeroed in on the bone in his claws. “Where did that drumstick even come from? We haven’t had chicken in a week.”
He climbed off the couch with the bone clenched between his teeth. I can see my work here is done for tonight. Toodles.
I continued to stew on the sofa for another long minute before climbing the steps to go to bed. In the immortal words of that narcissistic Southern debutante, tomorrow was another day.
I woke up bright and early, determined to start the morning off right. After Marley left for school, I worked on my list of tasks for the day with Raoul watching over my shoulder and offering suggestions.
Work on improving posture, he added.
I didn’t even spare him a glance. I kept my focus on the list and wrote—research recipes for roasted raccoon.
You realize we’re a delicacy in some place, he said.
“Keep annoying me and you’ll be one here too.” I tucked the list into my handbag so I could add to it throughout the day. I put on my sneakers and ran around the cottage five times. A cramp in my side brought my run to an abrupt halt. I decided to stretch my calves before attempting squats.
You’re doing that exercise wrong. Raoul ambled over to examine my movements. You need to keep your knees from going too far over your toes.
“How do you know anything about squats?”
You should see what gets thrown away. Do you know how many exercise pamphlets I’ve seen over the years?
He continued to stare at me and I stopped squatting. “What now?”
Nothing.
My brow lifted. “That judgy expression says otherwise.”
Your clothes are a little tight, especially to work out in. Your body needs to breathe. If you’re not losing weight, think about buying bigger. Although if you did that exercise right…My leg swung out and he ducked before I could make contact. Don’t kill the messenger!
“Then stop delivering unwanted messages. I need to shower so I can get to the beach on time today in case there’s a sighting of the tepid.”
Tepen.
“You say potato. I say French fries.” I jogged into the house and the raccoon followed. “Are you planning to accompany me to the beach or just hassle me until I leave the cottage?”
I think it might be worth escorting you there to make sure you don’t get distracted along the way.
“Distracted by what? A passing squirrel?”
Or a latte that you decide you desperately need. Or a favorite song comes on when you get there and you don’t leave the car until it’s over.
I frowned. “Those are solid points. Maybe you should come with me.”
I’ll wait here. Make sure you use actual shampoo this time. You don’t want to scare off the tepen.
“Don’t eat me out of house and home while I’m getting ready,” I called over my shoulder as I hurried up the stairs.
I showered as quickly as I could, but I was vaguely aware of Raoul humming the Jeopardy theme song thanks to our telepathic connection.
<
br /> “Showers are supposed to be my relaxation time,” I said, once I was dressed and back downstairs. “I don’t need a timer.”
If you took shorter showers, you’d have more time to spend on other tasks plus you’d conserve water. It’s a win-win.
I was already beginning to regret my decision to let him play coach. I hustled to the car and Raoul made himself comfortable in the passenger seat.
“Don’t interfere in any way,” I said, as I sped to Balefire Beach. I was unwilling to be chastised by Winston York for a second time.
Maybe he’ll be fascinated by me and want to feature me on one of his programs.
I cut him a quick glance. “Is that the animal equivalent of me wanting to be discovered on America’s Got Talent?”
Discovered for what?
I shrugged. “Pure awesomeness?” I parked the car and we bolted for the beach. When I reached the line of sand, I kicked off my shoes. The threat of grains of sand stuck in my shoes for weeks afterward exceeded the threat of York’s steely-eyed reprimand. In the distance, I saw the monster hunter in his trademark white outfit. As I drew closer, I realized that he was swaying. How odd. It wasn’t as though a stiff breeze could blow him down, not with that Santa-style stomach.
I ran faster and was rewarded with another stitch in my side. Okay, I was definitely incorporating more exercise into my routine.
“Mr. York, are you all right?” I called.
Looks like he had one Bloody Mary too many, Raoul said.
Winston’s body seized and I watched in horror as he slumped to the ground. I rushed forward to see a weird-looking tail disappear into the nearby brush.
The tepen.
My knees hit the sand and I kneeled beside the fallen hunter. “Mr. York?” I shook his shoulders but there was no response. It was then that I noticed his skin and lips were tinged with blue. I checked for breathing and a pulse.
Nothing.
I pushed on his chest. Three compressions.
That’s not how you perform CPR.
“Now’s not the time, Raoul,” I huffed. I bent down to pinch his nose and breathe air into his mouth. I hadn’t performed CPR since high school gym class, so it wouldn’t surprise me to learn I was doing it wrong. Be that as it may, this was my only shot at saving his life so I was doing whatever I could.
Save your bad breath for Alec. He’s gone.
I rested on my heels and pulled out my phone to call for a healer, not that there seemed to be any hope of reviving him. Still, I was relieved when I heard Cephas’s voice on the other end. I told the druid what I saw and the steps I took to help. Cephas told me to sit tight and that he was on the way.
As I waited, I noticed Winston’s camera set up on a nearby boulder and tossed it into my bag. The last thing Winston would want is for his footage to get stolen and uploaded to the internet by some unscrupulous opportunist.
Robbing graves? Isn’t that what you did back in New Jersey?
I gaped at my raccoon familiar. “I repossessed cars.”
Close enough.
I held Winston’s clammy hand and waited for help to arrive. Cephas swooped onto the beach on the back of a pegasus and his feet slid to the sand.
“That’s some ride,” I said.
“More efficient in an emergency.” His glowing hands set to work on the hunter’s body and I knew within seconds that there was nothing more to be done.
“And this is how you found him?” Cephas asked.
“He was standing when I parked but he started to sway and, by the time I got here, he was on the sand and the tepen had disappeared into the brush.”
The druid’s head jerked to look at me. “You saw the tepen?”
“The back end of it,” I said.
“The stinger?”
“Looks like a rattle, right?” I shuddered.
Cephas observed Winston’s unmoving body. “That explains the blue. The tepen must’ve stung him when he got too close. Its stinger is poisonous.”
“I can’t believe this. His white whale is what killed him. What are the odds?”
“The tepen isn’t a white whale,” Cephas said. “It’s…”
“No, I know what it is. I was making a reference to a book. Moby Dick.”
Cephas frowned as he examined the body. “Now isn’t the time for a literature discussion, Ember.”
“What do we do about the tepen?” I asked. “We can’t leave a dangerous creature wandering around town.”
“It won’t wander,” he said. “It’ll protect its nest and then…”
I groaned, “I know. I know. It’ll return to the sea where it dies like a single mother after her daughter graduates.” Poor adult tepen.
He squinted at me. “That wasn’t the analogy I was going to make.”
“What do we do about the tepen?”
“I’ll alert animal control once I remove the body from the beach.”
My jaw unhinged. “You can’t do that. Animal control isn’t equipped to deal with something like this. The tepen is a rare creature on the verge of extinction.”
He gave me a pointed look. “Do you have any better suggestions?”
“No, but I’ll call Sheriff Nash because he might.” He’d also need to inform York’s wife.
I hoisted my bag over my shoulder and headed back toward the parking lot with the phone pressed to my ear and Raoul ambling beside me. It was a good thing I didn’t write my article last night because today it would have required an entirely new ending.
Chapter Four
I entered into the office with York’s camera tucked safely in my bag and the first thing I noticed was the mess on Bentley’s desk. It was covered in worn-looking folders and sheets of paper were scattered across the desk, spilling over onto the floor next to his feet.
“Is this a Marie Kondo thing?” The elf was usually fastidious about the appearance of his desk. Not as anal as Alec, of course, but much neater than I was.
Bentley lifted his head in surprise, as though he hadn’t heard me come in. “Oh, hey.”
“I’ve never seen you this engrossed. Is it porn?” I hurried over to look before he could tidy up.
Bentley threw his hands across the desk in a vain effort to block my view. “It isn’t porn. I’m a happily married man.”
“Plenty of happily married men and women enjoy porn,” I said. “Maybe you could write an article about it. Do your own research.”
The elf tried to move the folders away from me, which only made me want to see them more.
“Show me what you’re working on,” I said.
“No.”
We stared at each other for a moment like two cowboys with itchy trigger fingers. Without warning, I leaped across the desk and grabbed the top folder. Bentley was stronger than he looked and gripped the folder so that I couldn’t open it.
“Show me!”
“It’s not your business,” he ground out.
I was still sprawled across Bentley’s desk when I heard the door open and close.
“Is there a problem?”
I froze at the sound of Alec’s smooth voice. I released the folder and slowly slid off the desk.
I cleared my throat. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I suppose Bentley is as well. You seemed like you were about to throttle him.”
“I have bad news,” I said. “Winston York is dead.”
Alec balked. “Dead?”
“You might have led with that,” Bentley complained. “What happened?”
“The tepen happened. You’ll be happy to know that I absconded with the goods though.” I wiggled the bag on my desk. “I have his footage.”
“Can we backtrack to the dead part?” Bentley asked.
“He was standing one minute and dead on the sand the next. I caught a glimpse of the tepen as it slithered away with its creepy, poisonous tail.”
“Incredible,” Alec said. “We need to move on our story before the vultures descend. Now would be an excellent ti
me to interview his widow.”
I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Now, as in this moment in time?”
“That is the commonly accepted definition of now, yes.”
I hesitated. “She only just found out her husband died. In fact, the sheriff is probably there now. Shouldn’t we wait?”
“It’s a whole new story now, Ember,” Bentley interjected. “You need to pounce while it’s fresh.”
His comment conjured an image of the tepen pouncing on Winston York. Not a great parallel.
“Can I at least wait until tomorrow?” I asked.
Alec looked at me. “Are you certain this isn’t an attempt to push off work until the last minute?”
“No, I’m certain this is my attempt to show some humanity.” As a widow, I knew what Winston’s wife was probably feeling right now. A reporter on my doorstep would’ve been greeted with a kick in the crotch.
“Very well then. I have work to do, but let me know how you progress.” He strode to his office and I turned to the elf.
“Hey, Bentley, you’re a geek. Can you help me with Winston’s camera? I want to see if there’s footage I can reference in my article.”
Bentley begrudgingly vacated his chair to assist me. The moment he was clear of his desk, I dove across it and snatched the folder. My stomach clenched when I noticed the name printed on the tab.
Nash.
Bentley didn’t try to stop me this time. Instead, he folded his arms and observed me with an expectant expression. “Now you know why I was hiding it from you.”
I opened the folder to see which Nash’s information was enclosed. “Who is this?”
“The sheriff’s father. When Alec assigned you the article on Winston, I decided to look into cold cases and try to find an interesting story of my own. I think this one qualifies.”
I knew that Granger’s father had been murdered when he was younger and that the killer had never been caught. In fact, it was the reason he became a sheriff.
“Are you sure you want to be poking around in here? It’s the sheriff’s father, Bentley.”
“If there’s a story here, don’t you think he’d want to know?”
I studied the photo of his father. It was clear where Granger and Wyatt got their handsome looks. I closed the folder and placed it back on the elf’s desk.
Magic & Monsters (Starry Hollow Witches Book 12) Page 3