York smirked.
Sigmund grunted and looked at Walden. “I’m totally fine if you arrest me.”
“And keep you from watching Petey draining the lizard? Not a chance,” said Walden as he walked away, still laughing.
Sigmund glanced at York. “Why don’t you run home, shower, and change before we meet at Howlers? If you don’t, Curt will make nonstop jokes about you being a were-shark and smelling like fish.”
Petey nodded. “Yep. Warrick will have a field day with that. And with York being fool enough to put his face on the end of my fist. I’m starting to think the other twin got all the brains in the womb. This one got…well, I don’t know what he got.”
York shook his head, looking slightly tired. “Petey, thanks for lending Virginia your van for tonight. I know she was worried about getting that food out to the high school.”
Sigmund didn’t like hearing that Virginia was going to be anywhere near the high school, because that meant she’d be near Darrell. “Why is she taking food out there?”
Petey gave Ernest the stink eye before answering. “Because she’s catering the school dance again. She caters all of them. And because that guy, you know, Hedgewitch Cove’s version of you, is sweet on her. He’s always asking her to do things that’ll leave them spending time together. You know, like you should be asking her to do.”
“Darrell is not Hedgewitch Cove’s version of me,” snapped Sigmund, resenting the implication.
Petey grinned. “Funny, you’re the one who said Darrell. Not me. I said that guy. And he is so their version of you. He’s your age. He’s the same size as you. He’s a high school principal. And he’s sweet on Virginia. Except he’s braver than you, or smarter, since he thinks of reasons and ways to spend time with her. You just think up ways to watch her from afar and then hightail it in the other direction if she dares to look your direction.”
York tried but failed to hide his laugh. “That isn’t creepy at all, Bails. Not at all.”
Ernest stared at him, mouth agape. “You do that?”
Sigmund grunted.
Petey nodded. “He does.”
Ernest studied Sigmund. “Yankees are curious creatures.” He nodded to Petey. “Drinks at Howlers?”
“Sure thing, but I’ll be having sweet tea,” said Petey.
“Still swearin’ off the hooch?” asked Ernest.
Sigmund merely sighed.
Chapter Eight
Sigmund nursed his stout beer as he stood off to the side of the pool table at Howlers. The bar, mostly filled with shifters, was a town staple. A favorite watering hole for the locals. The Bloody Mary was its primary rival, and just so happened to be located next door. The two businesses shared a parking lot and were directly across the street from the funeral home.
Once, Sigmund had been on his way to the marina early in the morning, only to see a body lying in the grass in front of the funeral home. Turned out to be a vampire who’d had a little too much of a twist in his Bloody Mary.
No one really batted an eye over the event. It wasn’t until later that he’d learned it occurred several times a year—especially during football season. The better the team did, the wilder the tailgating got. Apparently, the funeral home director had accidently put a vampire in a body bag the first time it happened. You’d think that would teach the vampires.
It didn’t.
“You’re up, Bails,” said York as he stepped back from taking his turn at pool. As suspected, he had a shiner where Petey had punched him. So far, he’d told four different stories regarding how he’d come to get the black eye to locals who asked. None of the stories were the truth.
Sigmund wasn’t into the game of pool so much as he was into glaring holes in the back of Darrell’s head. The man had decided to join them after all. He’d shown after appetizers were ordered and had immediately become the life of the party.
Of course.
Why wouldn’t the jerk also be an extrovert as well as good-looking (for a guy)? He never seemed to be at a loss for words. He didn’t seem to have any issue expressing what he wanted.
And the man didn’t have control issues.
He was just about perfect.
The thought made Sigmund gag.
He wasn’t exactly sure what Darrell was, supernatural-wise. He’d heard Louis mention Darrell coming from a long line of witches but wasn’t sure if that was true or not. When Sigmund had been grabbing a cup of coffee at Elixir’s a few months back, he’d overheard Daisy Galison (who happened to be the dispatcher for the sheriff’s department) talking with her friends and she’d mentioned that Darrell was a shifter. She’d hadn’t elaborated beyond that. Sigmund didn’t know what the man was; all he did know was the guy got under his skin and made his kraken side edgy.
Sigmund set his beer on a side table and headed toward the cue ball. He bent next to the Brunswick-Balke-Collender pool table. The oak table was substantial to say the least and had polished nickel plates wrapped around the edges of the base and iron pockets. Louis had once mentioned it was a northern version, whatever that meant. Louis had whispered the detail as if worried the locals would hear and decide they couldn’t possibly play pool at a table named after the northerners.
He probably wasn’t wrong.
Sigmund lined up his shot on the gray slate. Just as he was about to take his turn, Darrell coughed loudly, causing Sigmund to scratch.
York laughed.
A low growl sounded from Sigmund and was directed at Darrell.
Luc approached with a fresh drink in his hand. He looked at the table. “You do know you’re supposed to hit the white ball, right? Not the felt on the table.”
Sigmund grunted but said nothing as he watched Darrell and Curt get into a lively debate on the best babyproofing techniques. The two had become chummy over the last few months.
“Did you get the books I dropped off for you the other day?” asked Darrell.
Curt nodded. “I did. Missi threw them at me—hormones—but I did get them. I had no idea there were so many things to expect the first year. I bookmarked all the milestones.”
Darrell flashed a thousand-watt smile. “For a while, I was focused on early childhood education. Found my stride with high school kids, though. Virginia mentioned you’ve been getting ready for the baby’s arrival by reading up on things. Figured the books might come in handy.”
Curt thumbed in Sigmund’s direction. “He was a high school principal too, before he moved down here.”
Darrell met his gaze. “Oh really? Huh. Did they let you go after the whole losing-control-and-killing-two-people thing? Louis mentioned it once in passing.”
Sigmund’s kraken side stirred deep within him, wanting him to grant it permission to make Darrell its third victim. The idea had merit. So much so that for a long pregnant moment, Sigmund considered letting it do so.
Luc touched Sigmund’s shoulder and leaned close. “Exhale. Is he worth the loss of control?”
“Yes,” whispered Sigmund, earning him a snort from the devil.
“Sig didn’t lose his job. He quit,” said Curt quickly, rising to Sigmund’s defense. “I told you already, the guys Sig killed were Collective members, and they weren’t in town for the Cranberry Festival. They were there to hunt a close friend of ours. The school board tried talking Sig into letting them hire a temporary person, but he refused.”
“I see,” said Darrell, his tone indicating he had little to no respect for Sigmund’s life choices.
Sigmund made a move to go at the man, but York and Louis stepped in his path quickly, as if the twins had come to know him well enough to foresee an issue.
Luc merely propped an elbow on a high table and grinned. He looked almost eager for a brawl to break out.
“It was too at least eight and a half feet long,” said Petey loudly from the other side of the bar. He was sitting on the end barstool with a drink in front of him. It was nonalcoholic, and the bartender had put a number of pink umbrellas in it.
Petey liked them.
York glanced at Sigmund. “Ever wish we could tranq him?”
“Yes,” said Luc and Sigmund at the same time.
Darrell’s gaze was on Petey. It narrowed, and for the faintest of seconds, Sigmund could have sworn something close to hate filled the man’s gaze.
That was absurd.
Everyone liked Petey.
Sure, he got into a few dustups with Ernest every now and again and didn’t see eye to eye with the man who owned the iron factory, but the people of the town liked him. Not to mention, he was pretty harmless.
The small hint of dislike left Darrell’s eyes, and he turned his attention to Sigmund. He picked up the block of chalk and began to rub it on the end of his pool stick. He then glanced at York, the edges of his lips drawing upward. “York, your sister’s birthday is coming up soon. Any idea what she might like?”
York lifted a dark brow. “I have no idea what that woman likes. Louis is better served to answer that. He’s nearly as uptight as Virginia.”
“She’s not uptight,” said Darrell. “And this is going to be her twenty-sixth birthday, right?”
“Twenty-seventh,” said Luc. “She’s almost two full years younger than the twins. They just had their birthdays back in December.”
Sigmund hadn’t known her age, or that her birthday was approaching.
The fact that Darrell did felt a lot like someone had rammed a knife in his gut. The very man who set his teeth on edge knew more about Sigmund’s mate than he did. That didn’t bode well for Sigmund in the least.
Darrell stopped chalking his pool stick and got ready for his turn. The man’s dark brown hair hung partially in his eyes as he lined up a shot.
York plunked money down on the edge of the table. “Ten says he can’t make this shot.”
Luc was quick to pull out cash as well. “You’re on.”
“Sig?” asked York. “Want in on the action?”
Sigmund shook his head, his gaze returning to Darrell. The man wore a pair of dress slacks and a tailored dress shirt. Basically, he was wearing the type of clothes Sigmund used to wear when he was still a principal. Dress casual.
Next to Darrell, Sigmund looked like he’d rolled out of bed after a hard weekend of partying and showed up for guys’ night. He didn’t look put together. Not with the faded jeans and a marina T-shirt. He was comfortable, yes. Fashionable? No.
And Darrell knew Virginia’s birthday.
She talked to him.
Shared things with him.
The more Sigmund thought on it, the more his kraken wanted to surface. He entertained letting it.
Darrell took the shot and sunk a ball in the corner pocket like it was nothing.
Sigmund grunted.
Darrell checked the time, and then handed his pool stick off to Luc. “Well, gentlemen, it’s been fun, but I need to head out. I’m meeting Virginia later tonight. She’s catering the school dance again. I love that woman’s food.”
“That all you love about her?” asked Luc, his gaze wandering to Sigmund.
A cocky grin spread over Darrell’s face. “There’s a lot to like about her. And I’m not about to miss out on any time with her.”
York lined up for his shot. “Unlike some.”
Sigmund watched as Darrell headed out of the bar. He then stared at his friends. “Curt, you don’t have to be so friendly with the man.”
Curt shrugged. “What? He’s a nice guy. Reminds me of you.”
Luc snorted and did his best to hide the noise behind a rather fake cough.
York laughed as he took his turn. “Bails doesn’t like him because the guy is kind-of-sort-of dating my sister.”
Curt grinned. “Sig, you interested in Virginia?”
Sigmund’s throat went dry, and he found himself chugging the rest of his beer, already knowing he wasn’t driving tonight. The inn wasn’t that far from the bar so he’d opted to walk over.
Curt laughed. “Smooth. In no way does it look like you’re avoiding the question.”
The kraken stirred more in Sigmund, growing restless, almost slamming against his insides. It wasn’t so much a feeling of a loss of control, but rather the kraken wanting him to sync up with its wants and needs.
As he concentrated on it, a tickle of concern began to form deep in the pit of his stomach.
The kraken was warning him. It wanted to go somewhere.
He stiffened as he realized it wanted to seek out open water.
It wanted to hunt.
His jaw set, he exhaled slowly. “I’m going to check in with Petey, and then maybe head back to the inn.”
York watched him with a knowing expression. “If one was smart, and wanted to spend time with my sister tonight before Darrell does, he’d hurry toward Runes. She’ll be loading food in the van she borrowed from Petey. Bet she could use a big strong helper. Or, one could be stupid and let Darrell help her.”
Sigmund wasted no time as he hurried for the door.
Chapter Nine
Virginia held a large box filled with foil trays of food that she’d spent the greater part of the last two days making. Everything from stuffed mushrooms to crawfish cakes were in the box. More goodies were already loaded up in preparation of her heading out to the high school.
Darrell was supposed to meet her there to let her in so she could put the food in the walk-in refrigerators. All of it was for the upcoming dance—another one. It seemed like the school had endless celebrations and dances. It, like the town, loved a good get-together.
Any chance to eat was one worth taking.
Darrell had asked her to help with the food preparations. Virginia didn’t mind. She enjoyed spending time around Darrell. Though she wasn’t exactly sure if they were dating or not. At times it felt like they were, but other times it just felt as if they were friends who simply enjoyed one another’s company.
At first, she’d been reluctant to accept Darrell’s invites for dinner or going to a show. Part of Virginia had hoped, deep down, that Sigmund might ask her out. Her siblings were quick to point out she and Sigmund seemed interested in one another, but she didn’t see it. Yes, she had a serious interest in him, but the man hardly made eye contact with her, let alone spoke to her.
It was evident he didn’t feel the same way for her that she did for him.
Which was fine.
Everyone was entitled to their own feelings.
It just happened her feelings kept making Sigmund the center of their focus.
“I really need to let go of the idea anything will ever happen with that man,” she said, shaking her head.
The night air had a slight chill to it, but Hedgewitch Cove was still a good deal warmer than most places in the country during the same time of year, so she wasn’t about to complain.
She was pretty sure she wouldn’t survive living up north. For one, she couldn’t drive in snow to save her life. For another, she tended to be cold when the temperature fell below eighty degrees. It was why she had on a pair of leggings with knee-high boots and an oversize sweater that wasn’t sure if it wanted to be a dress or not.
If Missi saw her, she’d say she was overdressed to be working after hours and running errands. Then again, her younger sister often forgot to wear shoes when she left the house, basically lived off granola, and rode a pedal bike everywhere she could to reduce her carbon footprint, so it wasn’t as if Virginia was about to take fashion advice from the woman.
A slight breeze came in off the water, and Virginia shivered as she went for the enormous eyesore of a van parked in front of the restaurant. The Volkswagen van was covered in painted flowers, peace signs, and mentions of love. It was about as far from a vehicle she’d have selected to drive as one could get. The van was a loaner so she could shuttle out the food.
The van’s owner, Captain Petey, was eccentric, a bit off his rocker, but had a heart of gold. He also had a long history with her grandmother, Marie-Claire Caillat. From what Virginia had
been able to gather, the two had been romantically linked long ago, but dark magic, curses, and who knows what else had come between them.
Petey, who also happened to be a very close friend of Sigmund’s, had been back in Hedgewitch Cove for the greater part of six months, and in that time, he and Mémé had successfully managed to avoid one another, which was very hard to do in a small Southern town.
Virginia ought to know. She’d been doing the same thing with the man who’d held her interest since he’d come to town over a year ago.
It was hard to believe Sigmund had been in town as long as he had. She could still remember the day they’d first met in Luc’s inn. Still remember how green his eyes had looked behind his dark frames and how disheveled, yet handsome he’d looked while his entire world had been coming down around him.
The man had only managed to get better looking since he’d come to be something of a permanent fixture around town. He was now tanned seemingly all year round, and his hair had gotten even blonder and longer.
The man didn’t need any help in the attractive department.
She made it to the van and loaded in the box, putting it on top of another. The van was nearly packed full of food for the upcoming event. Petey had been a lifesaver, offering up Sunshine the moment he’d heard her SUV was in the shop, getting serviced.
What she’d failed to mention was the service it was getting was actually a direct result of a curse she had on her. Its emphasis seemed to have shifted directly to Virginia in the last month.
The night Mémé had picked to cast her spell had seen a number of other magics in town rise at the same moment. Four different ones, to be exact. They’d blended to create the perfect storm of chaos, infecting each of her grandchildren as well as their destined mates. A few close friends of her grandchildren had also been included in the spell. They too were doing their best to get through each day without a piano falling on their heads.
It would have been funny, had a piano not actually nearly fallen on her brother Louis’s head only last month.
The curse also would have been bearable if it didn’t have Virginia’s life turned upside-down. The curse had gone from minor—creating travel nightmares for her and causing little hiccups in her day—to serious at the drop of a dime.
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