Men Love Witches

by Danielle Garrett

  A few minutes later, we wandered down the street to a small café that was known for their soups and fresh baked breads. My mouth started watering as soon as I opened the door and I was glad Meryl had popped by when she did.

  We were early enough to get a seat at a table for two by the window looking out onto the street and quickly ordered iced tea and two of the daily specials. As we waited for our meals, we talked about the wedding plans and things at the inn. I regaled her with the story of the renegade toaster and she reciprocated with a story circulating around the agency involving a banshee trapped in an old theater house that had a real knack for doing the sound effects for the nightly production of Sweeney Todd.

  “If she was good at it, then why did they want her out?” I asked.

  “Some kids’ musical is coming into town next weekend, and they don’t want to give the kids nightmares,” Meryl replied with a shrug. “They’re already having problems getting up all of the fake blood from the floor.”

  I buried my face in one hand, my shoulders shaking as I laughed at the sheer absurdity of the tale.

  Our server stopped by and we ordered another round of iced teas. It felt good to be out of the inn and the shop, and I wasn’t ready to go back, even though I knew I’d kick myself later when I realized just how little I’d checked off my to-do list.

  “So, um, did Nick decide what to do yet, with the SPA job, I mean?” I asked when the server reappeared with a pitcher of tea to refill our glasses. “I haven’t had a chance to catch up with him in a little while.”

  Meryl’s smile faltered as she held up her glass. “I don’t know.”

  Our server ducked his chin and scurried off to the next table. Meryl took a sip and then set her glass aside. “I mean, I talk to him every day—we’re practically living together at this point, and even I don’t know what he’s going to do. I’ve actually considered asking you to needle it out of him for me.” She laughed softly, but her smile didn’t fully reach her eyes. “I don’t know. He’s really struggling with this whole thing. It’s almost like some kind of quarter-life crisis for him, or I guess third-life crisis, if that’s even a thing.”

  “He’ll figure it out,” I said, offering an encouraging nod. “Nick is like a cat, he always lands on his feet.”

  Meryl raised her brows and took another sip. “Not sure how a werewolf would take being called a cat, but I see your point.” She sighed and slumped back in her chair, her hand absently fiddling with the corner of a paper napkin. “I guess my concern is that he doesn’t know what he wants, and that until he figures it out, he doesn’t want to make any moves in any aspect of his life.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “He’s something of a dichotomy. He has his own place and a car and pays his bills on time. Stars, he even organizes the punch cards in his wallet in alphabetical order. On paper, he’s as stable as it gets. A total rock, right? But then there’s this other side to him, too. The wanderlust side. I mean, think about his life choices over the past five years. He went from being a journalist in Los Angeles to suddenly quitting his job, uprooting his whole life, and moving to the Pacific Northwest on a literal ghost hunt!”

  I smiled around my straw as I recalled the first time Nick and I met, out in the rosebushes under my bedroom window, in the middle of the night. I’d nearly blasted him into next week after mistaking him as some kind of prowler.

  “So, I mean, what if he’s getting restless and wants to … I don’t know, do that all over again?” Meryl asked, lines forming at the corners of her eyes as she tried to piece it all together. “What if he wakes up tomorrow and decides he doesn’t want to be here anymore, and rather than taking the SPA up on their job offer, he decides to—I don’t know, move to Big Sur and take up amateur surfing or something?”

  I couldn’t help giggling at the idea of Nick in a wet suit, his hair all grown out and wild, highlighted from hours in the sun, with a string of puka shells hung around his neck.

  “I’m serious, Holly!” Meryl exclaimed.

  I held up a hand and nodded. “I know, I know. But Meryl, come on. This is Nick we’re talking about. Have you seen him run before? He doesn’t exactly move like an athlete.”

  Meryl tried not to smile, but one broke through anyway. “He does kind of do a grandma shuffle, doesn’t he?”

  “Totally!” I said, dissolving into giggles again. “And believe me, he was worse before the whole curse thing. If anything, being a werewolf has given him the only bit of prowess he’s got!”

  With another giggle, Meryl covered her face with her hands. “Ugh. I swear, I used to promise myself that I’d never let a man make me go nuts or turn into one of those women who leave jewelry catalogues out in strategic locations, trying to hint at something. Yet … here I am!”

  “Well, maybe it’s not so much about the wedding as it is about the stability factor,” I suggested gently. “You’re not in a rush to get to the altar, you just want to know that Nick isn’t going to wake up one day and announce he’s leaving. So, you see him taking the job with the SPA as a huge commitment—not just to the job itself, but to you.”

  Meryl’s hands melted down her face and fell back to her lap. “I think you’re right.”

  “Listen, I know it’s hard, but give him a little more time. Isn’t his lease up soon? On the office space, I mean?”

  Nodding, Meryl reached for her spoon. “Next month.”

  “Okay. So, knowing our little mister pocket organizer, he’s not going to wait until the last minute to give the property managers an answer,” I told her. “When was his last meeting with the powers that be over at the agency?”

  “It’s been a while,” Meryl replied, staring down at her bowl of minestrone as she moved her spoon around. “They left things pretty open-ended, since he would be closing down a business and all that. The agency can always use more people, so there isn’t a chance of the opportunity disappearing. Especially not with all of the unrest that’s been going on lately.”

  Heat prickled along the base of my neck. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

  “Oh, you know, the whole mess with these vampires over in Seattle,” Meryl said, her tone agitated. “It’s like playing Whack-A-Mole and then to make matters worse, the agency has been moving resources and personnel around, which makes it feel like trying to run through a swimming pool filled with pudding!”

  I wanted to ask more questions but resisted the urge, knowing it would only make it harder to keep my little morsel of information to myself. But as we finished our meals, my anxiety climbed to new heights. Meryl paid the check—insisting it was her treat as she’d invited me—and as we waited for the server to make change, she gestured at my hand. “So, is this wedding jitters … or something else going on?”

  “Hmm?”

  She pointed at my hand. I followed her gesture and realized my fingers were tap-dancing along the edge of the table without my active permission. Frowning, I swiped my hand back and placed it in my lap before meeting Meryl’s stare. She raised one eyebrow. “All good?”

  Glancing around, it appeared we were mostly alone. The lunch rush had died down and the nearest patrons were two tables away, a pair of professional-looking women who were engrossed in serious conversation over their soup-and-salad combos.

  “Holly?” Meryl said, her voice growing concerned.

  Turning back around in my seat, I leaned in a little closer. “Can we talk off the record? As in, what I tell you can’t go back to headquarters.”

  Meryl blinked, clearly surprised by the sudden shift in tone. “I—I guess that would depend on what it is,” she replied. “If someone is in immediate danger, I couldn’t keep that to myself.”

  As far as I knew, no one was in immediate danger, but then, I didn’t know the full details of Lacey’s plans. Licking my lips, I considered my options. Bringing my eyes back to meet Meryl’s, I dropped my voice a hair lower. “Can you come by the manor tonight? After dark?”

  That should giv
e me enough time to convince Lacey to bring Meryl in on her plans. Well, either that or kill me. At least then someone would find my body.

  Chapter Twelve

  As it turned out, I wasn’t the only one who thought we needed some help from the outside. When I got home from work that evening, the vampires were seated around the dining room table, glaring at Nick who was seated at the end of the table nearest the door to the kitchen. He glanced up at my arrival and offered an unsteady smile. “Hey, Holls.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, lifting my purse strap from over my head.

  Lacey answered for him. “I’ve hired him to help find the stone.”

  “Yes, who better to find a vampire treasure than a werewolf mongrel?” Aretha muttered.

  Lacey’s expression pinched as she whirled back toward the table. I didn’t have to see her face to know the look she was likely throwing at Lady Powers. And having been on the receiving end of it a time or two, I hesitated a moment before taking a slow step closer to the group.

  “There are two days until the full moon,” Lacey snarled, “which means his senses are heightened.”

  She jabbed a finger in the air, pointing at Nick. He shrank back in his seat. “It’s not just his sense of smell and hearing that will be sharpened,” Lacey continued. “Werewolves and vampires are longtime enemies. Normally, the only time a werewolf has a shot at taking out a vampire is near the full moon, or if their pack is large enough. There are some gathered here who might remember the stories of the famed vampire hunts of old. Werewolves could track us through the woods, as easily as a hound chasing a fox. Why is that?”

  She took a beat, but when no one answered, she pressed on, her tone growing strained. “Shifters can’t. Wolves can. They have an innate sense, a protection, that allows them to sense vampires, just as easily as we can sense their kind.”

  All eyes snapped back to Nick.

  “Is that true?” Aretha asked him.

  Nick swallowed. “I—uh—I guess I’ve never really tried. But having met Lacey first as a human, and then interacting with her after the curse … there was something different.”

  “And you’ve felt that with other vampires?” Nathaniel asked.

  Nick nodded. “I couldn’t really describe it, but yes, there’s some kind of intuition, I guess you could say.”

  “What does this have to do with the stone?” Julian, Aretha’s dutiful—and usually silent—assistant, asked.

  Lacey walked around the table and stopped at Nick’s side. “The stone contains Lilith’s essence. Vampire essence. Nick should be able to sniff it out. Not literally, perhaps, but if he gets close enough, he should be able to locate it.”

  Nick’s usual color drained from his cheeks and I wondered how Lacey had convinced him to get involved. Had she called him up and explained her plan in advance of the meeting? Or had she simply invited him over and dumped it on him right then and there, in front of everyone?

  From the look on Nick’s face, I was guessing the latter.

  I dropped my purse onto the back of the couch and stepped into the dining room. “If you ask me—”

  “No one did,” Aretha snapped, her dark eyes flashing.

  Taking a resolute breath, I folded my arms across my chest. “Well, it’s my house, so I’m going to say my piece anyway,” I told the vampire.

  Matthias, seated on one side of Nick, stifled a smile as he looked down at his folded hands atop the table.

  “If Nick is willing to help, you should take him up on it,” I continued. “If you all claim to be innocent and say the stone must be found, then why stand in the way of a second search effort?”

  “Precisely,” Lacey said, her tone crisp. “In fact, I think perhaps we should start the search in your suite, Lady Powers.”

  Aretha’s jaw clamped shut as her pupils grew to blot out the deep brown of her irises. She wasn’t in full blood-rage mode, but she was teetering on the brink.

  Just peachy.

  Magic crackled along my fingertips. I wouldn’t have a chance against the entire conclave, but I knew I could count on Lacey, Matthias, and Jupiter to have my back at the very least. That and Meryl. Which reminded me—

  “Fine by me!” Aretha declared, already surging to her feet. “But when you uncover nothing, I think I shall take my leave of this place. Your actions will catch up with all of us, and I need to return home to prepare my people for the consequences.”

  Lacey pinned her with a fierce stare, but Matthias stood and touched her arm before she could fire off another round of threats. Her eyes sparked as the ice blue turned to a thin ring around her own expanding pupils. “Nick?” she said, not dropping her gaze to look at him.

  Nick climbed to his feet, everything about the motion uncertain and awkward. I halfway expected to hear his knees start knocking together. “La—Lacey, can I—”

  “Come on,” Lacey said, cutting him off. “You’ll know what to do.”

  I followed the pair from the dining room, ignoring the way the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at turning my back on the rest of the vamps. For everything I’d told Harmony about the vampires being harmless, I was starting to wonder. She’d left work to go have dinner with Anastasia before packing up and coming back to the manor. I figured I had a couple of hours to decide whether I should text her and warn her to stay put in the Seattle Haven another night or two.

  “Where is Adam?” I asked Lacey. “And Evangeline?”

  “They went to pick up dinner,” she answered as we started up the stairs.

  Nick glanced back at me, his expression wary. “There’s something else I need to tell you,” I said, then paused to glance over my shoulder to make sure we weren’t being followed.

  Lacey stopped at the top of the stairs and gave me an impatient look. “What is it?”

  “Well … um … I know you didn’t want to involve the SPA, but—”

  Lacey’s eyes pressed closed. “Tell me you didn’t.”

  “I didn’t call Bramble!” I swore. “But I had lunch with Meryl—”

  Nick’s eyes widened and I cringed. He wouldn’t want her mixed up in this mess. He worried about her enough as it was, with her work at the agency.

  “She’s going to stop by tonight. I didn’t tell her anything about the stone or your plans.” I climbed the last few steps and lowered my voice. “But Lacey, this is seriously getting out of hand. It feels like they’re about to mutiny, and then what? You can’t keep them here forever, and what if whoever took the stone managed to smuggle it out of the manor already?”

  Lacey’s eyes narrowed. “How could they do that? You’ve had wards set.”

  “Right, I have, but we don’t know when the stone went missing. Someone could have passed it off before we even knew it was missing!”

  Nick held up a hand. “Okay, hold on. I’m willing to be your were-bloodhound, but I need to know what’s going on. Why do those vampires down there look like they want to turn me into a kebob? And what is this stone I’m supposed to be looking for? What does it do?”

  Lacey huffed a string of curses under her breath as she hooked both of us by the elbow and dragged us—quite effortlessly—into the hallway. She gave Nick the quick and dirty details of the stone’s origins and its powers. The more she talked, the higher Nick’s eyebrows climbed. When she finished, his gaze zipped to mine. “Holly, this is—”

  “Insane? Yeah, I know.” I shot Lacey a dark look.

  The vampire was unfazed by our frustration, too concerned with her own. “Come on!” she snapped, jerking us down the hall. “This one is Aretha’s room.”

  We’d already searched all of the rooms once before, and while none of us had Nick’s werewolf senses, we’d done a thorough job. I couldn’t imagine where she thought someone might have stashed the stone. Lacey shoved Nick into the room. “Anything?”

  Nick craned around. “I just got here,” he growled. “The whole room feels vampy.”

  Lacey dragged her fingers through h
er pin-straight platinum locks. I wasn’t sure if any of the potion samples rolling around the bottom of my purse would work on vampires, especially a bornling, but I was almost willing to risk slipping her a vial of antianxiety draught.

  Slowly, Nick started to move. He took one shuffling step forward, toward the bed, then backed up and pivoted toward the dresser. Aretha wasn’t a messy houseguest. Either she’d never unpacked, or she was anticipating an early checkout and repacked her belongings into the two suitcases placed at the end of her bed. I supposed Adam and I could kiss any chance of a glowing five-star review goodbye from any of the guests.

  Why couldn’t they have held this little shindig at a Howard Johnson?

  “Tell me about the guests,” Nick said as he gingerly reached for the crystal knob on the armoire. “You think it was Aretha? What would she want with the stone?”

  “She’s the most angry about the whole situation,” Lacey explained. “When I first revealed the stone and outlined my plan to give it to the Haven Council she looked ready to spit fire.”

  Nodding, Nick pulled open the armoire doors. The shelves contained the spare blankets and towels Adam and I had stocked for the guests, but nothing that belonged to Aretha. “What about the others? Any of them have motive?” he said, closing the doors again.

  I looked to Lacey. Her lips were pursed.

  “I am a private investigator,” Nick reminded her before turning to inspect the neatly made bed. “I might be more help if I had all the information.”

  Lacey’s face fell. “So, you’re not getting anything?”

  “Not yet. But I don’t really know what it is I’m supposed to feel.” He frowned as he dropped to his knees to peer underneath the bed. He lifted the frilly white bed skirt and then paused to retrieve his cell phone from his pocket. He flicked on the flashlight function and directed the beam under the bed. “Is Aretha here with someone?” he asked.

  “Her assistant, Julian,” I supplied. “He’s also her alibi for the time we think the stone went missing. They said they were out at a bar.”