by Liz Schulte
“Sneaky. And to think he almost got away with it.”
“He shouldn’t have underestimated Deadwood’s fire chief, who’d been suspicious something was fishy but couldn’t put his finger on what, so he’d held off on wrapping up the case until they’d hired a new investigator.” She pointed down at Reid.
“Don’t forget your part in solving the case.”
Aunt Zoe shrugged. “All I did was send Reid sniffing in a certain direction.”
“Did Reid thank you personally for your help?”
“He certainly tried, but I kept him at arm’s length for a bit longer.”
“How did you manage that?”
“I kept busy working.”
“Did you take his calls?”
“A few here and there.”
“Ahhhh, you tease.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I knew I was playing with fire, but he made it hard to put the matches down.”
I understood that feeling plenty. I was a fellow fire bug when it came to a certain guy. She’d resisted the flames far longer than I had. “What made you finally give in to him? More flowers? More charm? More flirting?”
“An imp.”
“What?”
“It’d gone rogue.”
“A rogue imp?” At her nod, I cocked my head to the side. “Do you mean ‘imp’ as in some supernatural little being that helps witches with their magic?”
“That’s European folklore. The entities I’m referring to act of their own free will. This particular imp had caused enough trouble over the previous few decades that most of us locals knew better than to go near the old schoolhouse at the end of Silver Stone Road, especially during a new moon when the shadows were at their shortest.”
“You’re really serious about this imp.”
“Never mess with rogue imps, Violet. They’ll make you want to leap off the nearest cliff just to be free of them.”
I was having trouble grasping the idea that there were really imps out there in the world, let alone a big enough population of them for some to go rogue. However, after some of the shit I’d been through, I understood the appeal of cliff jumping. I pushed aside my skepticism and focused on what mattered at the moment. “What did this imp have to do with you finally giving in to Reid’s charm?”
“He showed up on my doorstep with the damned imp on his shoulder.”
I sat forward. “On his shoulder?”
“Yep. The little bugger didn’t know I could see it in the hallway mirror when I let Reid come inside to ask me about another case.”
“The mirror you made with all of those glass designs in the frame?”
She nodded. “Those are wards that make the mirror reflect beings no matter their state or realm.”
I looked over at the mirror in her workshop that had an odd frame made up of twisted pieces of some kind of metal. An old picture of me was tucked into the inside corner of the frame. “Like that one?”
“No,” Aunt Zoe glanced at the mirror. “That one has a different purpose.” I started to ask her what that was, but she stopped me. “You’re not ready for it yet.”
I wasn’t? “So, what did you do about Reid’s imp?”
“There was only one thing I could do.” …
* * *
Zoe shut the front door behind Reid, leaning back against it to catch her breath. The sight of the imp’s ghoulish grinning profile in the mirror had surprised a gasp out of her that she’d quickly masked with a few fake coughs.
“You haven’t returned my last two calls, Zo.” Reid turned and faced her, his arms crossed over his chest.
She took a good look at him, noticing the dark rings under his eyes. His face looked more haggard than rugged, and there were signs of exhaustion in his drooping shoulders and weary, labored breathing.
“I thought we’d made it past the phone games stage in our relationship,” he said.
She smiled at him while trying to remember her grandmother’s instructions for how to bag an imp. They were such quick and nimble little pests. What were the words that her grandmother had used? Zoe could remember hand gestures and finger movements to immobilize the imp, but without the words to distract the bugger long enough to capture it, she’d have to improvise.
“Sorry, Reid. I had something pressing and kept meaning to call you back.” The only thing pressing had been her need to see him again, but she’d kept her hands and head busy out in her workshop for the last few nights, working until she crashed in exhaustion on the old couch she had in the back room out there.
She sneaked a glance into the hall mirror, pretending to look beyond into the kitchen. The imp had its talons locked onto Reid’s shoulder, pushing through the cloth of his T-shirt. This extraction was going to be painful for him, especially with the limited tools she had at hand. Shit.
“Would you like a glass of lemonade?” she asked, feeling a wave of dizziness suddenly.
Another glance in the mirror showed the imp’s tail unwinding, stretching toward her, tugging at her aura. Apparently, the son of a bitch wasn’t satisfied with drawing energy from Reid alone. She couldn’t let that tail make contact or she was a cooked goose. Damn her stupidity for not securing her doorway with the right wards to protect her house. She’d gotten cocky. If she made it through this alive, she’d make sure her home was always protected.
“No,” Reid said, scrubbing his hand down his face. “I just needed to see you again.” Even his mustache seemed to droop. “I mean, I needed to ask you about another cold case.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “I’ve been so tired the last couple of nights that I can’t seem to think clearly.”
Knowing what she did about imps, that didn’t surprise her. “Reid, I’m sorry.”
He waved her off. “It’s okay. Like you said, you had something important going on.” He held out the paper toward her. “If you’d take a quick look at this and tell me what you know about the place before it caught fire.”
She tightened her fists and took several steps toward him. “No, I mean I’m sorry about this.”
Before he or the imp had a chance to see her intention, she swung upward with a strong uppercut, planting her fist right into his glass jaw.
Reid’s eyes rolled up and he dropped like a heavyweight loser. Before the imp had time to detach its talons, Zoe performed the hand gestures in the order her grandmother had taught her over Reid’s shoulder, ignoring her throbbing hand. Then grabbing the only thing she had at hand, she pulled off her soft leather boot and made the tap, slide, slide, tap on the toe as her grandmother had taught her and with her finger drew the four elemental shapes on the sole of it. Holding the boot upside down over Reid’s shoulder, she spoke the two Latin words she was ninety percent sure would do the trapping trick and closed the top of the boot, securing the top together and rolling the leather down in a makeshift seal just to be safe.
Had she caught it? She poked the boot. It felt like a regular old empty boot. She held it up in front of the hall mirror. Her pulse galloped as a talon pressed against the leather, scraping down and around, trying to poke its way out. She tightened her grip on the top, the leather thankfully holding.
She looked down at Reid; the color of the mark on his jaw matched the red, sore knuckles of her right hand. His chest moved up and down, reassuring her that he’d live. However, if she didn’t do something to get rid of this rogue imp, she might not.
First, she needed a better container.
She headed out to her workshop, a potential solution forming in her mind. Once there, she dug the velvet bag her grandmother had given her so long ago out of the old trunk from her mother’s attic. She dumped out the trinkets, wards, and notes her grandmother had kept in the bag. On the side, wards were stitched with silver dipped thread. To be safe, she performed the same hand trick on the bag and then stuffed the boot into the bag, double knotting the draw strings. That should hold it for sure, but just to be safe, she opened the door to her glass furnace and tossed the bag into
its cold belly, locking the door shut.
Her hands shook as she wiped her brow. She fell back onto her stool, her body buzzing with adrenaline. That had been close. Had that little son of a bitch gotten loose in her house, catching it would have been nearly impossible.
She glanced over at the glass window on her furnace, half expecting to see its ghoulish face on the other side.
Nothing was there.
Damn, she could use a drink right about—Reid!
She leapt up and limp-raced back to the house with her one stockinged foot. He was sitting up when she skidded into the dining room, tenderly rubbing his jaw where she’d hit him.
He frowned up at her. “Did you punch me?”
“Only a little bit.” She rubbed her sore knuckles.
His brows pinched together. “What in the hell is wrong with you, woman?”
She almost lied, but then decided that the truth might save them from doing something stupid, like taking this flirting business to the next level in her bedroom. He’d want nothing to do with her when he learned what she was.
“You had a rogue imp on your shoulder, and I had to act fast to save us both, so I knocked you out and captured it before it could escape.”
Waves of confusion and disbelief rippled across his face. “A what?”
She grabbed the paper he’d been trying to hand her before she’d put him down for the count and scanned it. Ah ha! That explained it. She looked up at him. “When did you go to this old schoolhouse?”
“A few days ago.”
She nodded, holding the paper out for him to take back. “You picked up the imp there. It’s the whole reason they had to shut that school down back at the turn of the century. A group of us tried to have it razed years ago, but it’s registered as a historic building, so the council wouldn’t let anyone destroy it.”
“Have it razed?” His deep voice sounded crackly with bewilderment.
“I warned the Chief not to investigate that case since the building hadn’t burned to the ground. That place was not safe for anyone.”
Reid pushed to his feet, steadying himself with the help of the coat rack behind him. “Yeah, he told me to leave it alone, but I wanted to clear out the cases from the last year, so I went to the school and did a walk through.”
“That must be when the imp latched onto you.”
“Latched?”
“He had his talons buried into your shoulder.” She skimmed her fingers over his T-shirt along where its talons had been dug in. He winced in response.
“What the hell?” He tugged his T-shirt over his head, grimacing down at his bared skin. Angry purplish-red marks marred his smooth shoulder. His eyes were wide when he looked at her. “What are you, Zo? Some kind of witch?”
“No. Our family has no witches in its ancestry.” She didn’t feel like explaining what they did have in their lineage. She could tell already that he was having trouble getting past the imp on his shoulder bit.
His stare burned into her. “How could you see it?”
She pointed at the hall mirror. “That mirror has special wards etched into the frame that make it reflect all beings as their true selves no matter the cloak they’re wearing.”
He walked over to the mirror, staring into it for several breaths. Then he looked at her in the mirror. “What did you do with the imp after you knocked me out?”
“I stuffed it in my boot and threw it in my glass furnace.” She left out the part involving her grandmother’s ward-lined velvet bag. It wasn’t a need-to-know detail for him. He was struggling enough swallowing the rest of her tale.
He turned, his gaze sliding down to her stockinged foot, then back up. “You knocked me out.”
“It was for your own good, trust me. Imp extraction can be extremely painful. Plus, I needed the element of surprise to catch it. Those buggers are tricky little shits if they see you coming.” When he kept staring at her, she started feeling fidgety. “How about I get you that glass of lemonade now?”
She escaped to the kitchen.
He followed, taking the glass from her and setting it on the counter before she had a chance to make it over to the fridge. He placed his hands on the counter on each side of her, locking her inside his arms.
“Zo, whatever you did, I feel better already.”
Very aware that his bared chest was only a touch away, she shrugged his words off, as if capturing rogue imps were as easy as picking daisies. “It was just an imp.” She cleared her throat. “Um, I think you left your shirt in the other room.”
“You saved me.” He leaned closer, his eyes focusing on her mouth. “Now let me save you.”
“I don’t need any kind of saving. I’m doing pretty well here on my—”
His lips silenced hers, his kiss making her head spin. She tried her damnedest not to kiss him back, but then his hands slid along her sides, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her against him. The feelings she’d done her best to suppress for weeks and weeks rose up, spilling out all over. With a sigh of defeat, she sank into him, letting go of her control.
“Zo,” he breathed against her neck, his fingers hesitating on their climb up her ribcage. “Put me out of my misery, please.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. Zoe took his hand and led him toward the stairs. But he saw the couch in the living room and tugged her toward it, bypassing the steps. As she pulled her shirt off over her head, he shucked his jeans and then helped her out of hers. Weeks of pent up lust had her ready to burst, her body alive for the first time in years, sparking with anticipation.
She pushed him down on the couch, pausing to get an eyeful of all he had to offer.
“Come here, Zo.” He held his hand out toward her.
She took it, and they finished what had started between them at that first fire.
* * *
… “And that was my first mistake,” she told me, shaking her head. “Unfortunately, I didn’t learn from it at all.”
I laughed. “How many more of those sort of mistakes did you make?”
“I lost count. After a while, Reid brought a duffle with him at the start of each week, going home on the weekends to do his laundry and bring fresh clothes for the next week.”
“Whatever happened to that imp?”
“In the middle of the night, while Reid was catching some sleep, I went out and fired up my glass furnace. When the flames turned whitish green for a few seconds, I knew the imp was no longer a problem for the living.”
“Did Reid ask more about it?”
“Here and there, but mostly he didn’t seem to care about that part of my life. His main focus was in the bedroom, and for the next couple of months I was perfectly fine with that.”
“You think he was in it only for the sex?”
“No, he showed signs that he cared for me, especially one night when we were up in our favorite spot, you know, up in the hills where you and I met him that night?”
The night I’d wished for a UFO to beam me up, because anal probing seemed preferable to witnessing that very personal scene between Aunt Zoe and Reid. “Up that winding dirt road, right?”
“Right. That night, after we’d shared a bottle of Gamay, I gave him a necklace I’d made for him with several protection charms, asking him to wear it under his shirts so I didn’t have to worry about him as much.” Her smile had a hint of wickedness. “He made sure there under the stars that I understood how much he appreciated my thoughtfulness.”
Ah, so that had been why he’d wanted Zoe to meet him up there on that uncomfortable night. Unfortunately, she’d dragged me along, and his romantic reunion had turned into an awkward disaster after Aunt Zoe had refused to forgive and forget his past mistakes.
“If things were going so well, what went wrong between you two that split you up?” I asked.
“His ex-wife for one.”
“Was he still in love with her?”
“No, but she was threatening to take him back to court for more child support sin
ce he’d landed a good job with the county and had some extra income from his firefighting job.” She sighed. “That woman sniffed around and found out we were dating and then things really got ugly. She was hell bent on making his life as miserable as possible, and doing a damned fine job of it. But that wasn’t what came between us in the end.” …
* * *
The full moon graced the surrounding pines in silver light. Zoe stared into the flames; the small fire Reid had built crackled and popped in the dark, still world, its black tail of smoke weaving toward the heavens. Every now and then a cool fall breeze started the trees whispering, spreading rumors throughout the forest. Overhead, a plane blinked across the sky, the only sign of civilization up here miles deep in the Black Hills back country.
“What do you know about the Haskell’s old barn?” Reid asked as he sat next to her on an old blanket, one knee drawn up and acting as an arm rest.
“You mean the one that burned down last week?”
He nodded, sipping from his glass of wine without taking his eyes off the flames.
“It’s been dilapidated since I was a kid. We used to sneak up into the loft when I was a teenager and smoke a little weed, do some necking in the musty hay.”
Reid smiled over at her. “You made out up there?”
She shrugged. “Once or twice. I kept my clothes on though. That hay was too itchy for me.”
“You ever see anything peculiar in that old barn?”
“Besides the time Pete Hutchner dropped his pants in front of me?”
His chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Yes, besides that time. I mean was there any of that kooky stuff that your grandmother taught you about?”
Kooky? She sobered at his choice of adjectives. She’d held back on sharing too much of her family heritage, afraid he’d think she was, well, kooky. Turned out he thought it anyway. She wondered how he’d feel if she told him the truth about her family history and what she knew about the unseen world around them.
“No, Reid. It was just a spooky old barn. The only things living in there were rats and barn swallows.”