* * * *
Bryan Janzen glanced at his lovely daughter as she dug with relish into her dessert, a diplomat with flaky crusts and layers of sponge cake and vanilla cream. He smiled and shook his head, wondering where she put it all because she’d stayed trim and svelte with each passing year. He’d polished off half of his and then reluctantly pushed the rest away. At fifty-five, he managed to keep the weight off his lean, six-foot-two frame, but he’d spent the last twenty years working out between the gym he’d installed at the mill and the one in his second-floor workout room.
Like many of the women in town—generations of women, all descended from the original coven and the magical grande dame and matriarch herself, Angelique Blansett—Sydney had the Blansett metabolism. She might look like him, with her blond hair and brown eyes, but along with the few genes he’d managed to pass to her, she had her mother’s delicate, natural beauty and lovely figure. She looked as beautiful in jeans with her sleek hair in a ponytail as she did in the white silk suit she wore tonight.
When Sydney shoved her plate away, she grabbed the coffee pot and poured more coffee into Marta’s cup then her own. She lifted the pot in Bryan’s direction. “Dad?”
“No thanks, honey. I’ve got an early meeting.”
“On a Sunday?”
“That’s when people traditionally go to church.”
“Church?” Sydney said, her voice holding a trace of confusion. When a frown marred her smooth forehead, she cut a glance to Marta. The woman just shrugged. “Are you suddenly worried about your soul, Dad?”
Bryan laughed. “No, honey, nothing like that. Smythe-Warren came across some volumes of canon law that I believe are thirteenth century, so I’ve made an appointment to meet with Father Brennan. I’m hoping he can set up an audience with his bishop. These volumes might be priceless if they turn out to be authentic.”
Sydney lowered her gaze for a moment and began to toy with her fork. It clacked with a gentle rhythm against the china plate. “Have you bought them yet, Dad?”
“No. I have them in the library, but I’m still in the discovery phase. Smythe-Warren is giving me a week’s grace period.” Bryan reached out and stilled his daughter’s hand. “Something wrong, honey?”
“I’m not sure.” She caught her lip between her teeth. “Possibly.” She lifted her face, and her brown gaze settled on his, her eyes serious and probing. “Do you know a Nick Spencer?”
Bryan smiled. So Nick had already paid her a visit. Bryan had hoped for fast results. When he saw something, or someone, that fit his plans, he didn’t hesitate to either acquire it or push it in the right direction. In this case, though, he’d not used his gift. He’d just planted a small seed and hoped it would sprout.
“I do,” he said with a nod. “Met him a few weeks ago at a library board meeting. Nice fellow.”
“How did I not meet him? I’m on the library board too.”
“You, my darling daughter, were in Venice, searching down the elusive Marin Sonudo chronicle. Nice detective work by the way.”
Sydney scoffed. “And they said it didn’t exist.”
“You had a good hunch and ran with it.” He took his last sip of coffee, deciding to get back on track. “And I have a hunch about this Spencer fellow. He’s going to be an asset to Blansett. He’s volunteered to design shelving, pro bono I might add, for the children’s wing.”
“Really?” Sydney’s eyes flashed with interest. “I’d thought… well, he seemed…”
“So you’ve met him now?”
“He came by to give me an estimate on my own shelving. You recommended him, after all.” Sydney gave a little huff.
“I did?” Bryan lifted a brow.
He heard her foot tapping against the leg of her chair, and that fork started to bounce up and down, clink, clink, clink against the plate.
Going around in circles tired his daughter out, always had. Sydney usually liked the direct approach, but Bryan doubted she’d come right out and admit her interest in Nick Spencer. Sydney never knew what was good for her, even when it bit her in the ass.
“Dad…” That warning in her tone almost made him laugh.
“Oh, yes, you’re right. I did recommend him. He seemed completely competent, and I know you want that shelving. So he came by to see you. Good. And he seemed… what did you think?”
Sydney pressed her lips together. “He seemed a bit arrogant, I guess.” A flush crept up her neck to settle in her cheeks.
Marta gave him a sidelong glance, and they both smiled.
“He seems good at what he does,” Bryan said. “I suppose self-confidence combined with youth can often come off as arrogance. But he is willing to help the children of the town, so he can’t be all bad, can he?”
“No, I suppose not,” Sydney said quietly.
“Good-looking fellow,” Marta said as she lifted the coffee cup to her lips.
Sydney’s head snapped toward her. “You’ve met him too?”
“Oh ja. He came by to drop off some designs several days ago. I thought him very personable, charming, and quite… dreamy.” Marta sighed.
“Charming? Dreamy?” Sydney pulled her hair back from her face. “Seriously? He’s annoying, egotistical, pompous, and a big old smarty pants with an enormously fat and swelled head.” She shook her head violently. “I didn’t like him at all.”
Bryan burst out laughing and then rallied enough to try to give his daughter a sympathetic smile, the operative word being “try.”
“Well, we certainly can’t have that. Someone more of a smarty pants than you? Can you imagine, Marta?”
Marta joined him in laughter while Sydney pushed to her feet.
“Har har. Very funny. Just for that, I’m sending you his bill, Dad. You like him so much, you can pay for his services. And believe me, he ain’t cheap.”
“Didn’t think he would be,” Bryan said, trying to hold his laughter inside, an impossible feat because it spilled over again until he and Marta were practically on the floor. Marta was still laughing as she headed for the kitchen.
Sydney hollered for her dog, and Glimmer came sliding through the doorway to the butler’s pantry. After his daughter scooped the pup up, she turned back to him.
“Do you trust Randall Smythe-Warren?”
Bryan shrugged and stood. “I suppose as much as I do any book dealer. He found some of your codices and books, even a few of the ancient scrolls. Those dealers are all out to make a buck, but aren’t we all?”
“Not all of us.” Sydney rolled her eyes. “And please don’t remind me of life before Pieter.”
“It’s in the past, Syd. Time to let go. We’re white witches now. No more black-hat magic for us.”
Sydney lifted one silk-covered shoulder in an elegant shrug as they walked toward the foyer. “Don’t you ever just want to give it all away? Live the life of a millworker?”
“Heaven forbid,” Bryan said with a laugh. “No, I don’t want to live the life of a millworker. I may have been born into a lot of money, darling daughter, but I’ve worked hard to be sure I deserved it, and I’ve spread the wealth as best I can. You can teach any grade you want, Syd, but at the end of the day, that paycheck means nothing. You’re a very wealthy woman, and someday, you can do whatever you wish with the fortune you’re handed. Maybe even fund a school of your own.”
Sydney gave him a dubious look. “The money…sometimes makes me uncomfortable.”
“As uncomfortable as that $1000 suit you’re wearing?”
“That isn’t funny, Dad.”
“No, probably not.”
“Besides”—she ran her hand over her skirt—“it didn’t cost $1000. It’s one of Grey’s designs.”
“It’s beautiful, and you look beautiful in it, but I’m pointing out that it’s a bit hypocritical to condemn me for spending money on things I want when you have no compunction about doing the same. Or taking gifts from me.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to sound…ungratefu
l.”
“I know, Syd. I just hope you’ll come to see the value in our fortune as I have. I don’t like to dwell on where it came from, but I do try to use it to the best of my abilities to help us, our friends, our community. Why do you think I’ve been donating to the school library for years? Why do you think I want that new wing built?”
“I understand, Dad. I do. But what if someone takes advantage of that generosity or simply takes advantage of the fortune?”
“What do you mean?”
“When Nick Spencer came to the shop today, he… well, he told me that I’d been ripped off on several of my books. Books that I thought were worth thousands, he believed to be worth hundreds.”
“That doesn’t seem possible,” Bryan said. “Why would he suspect something like that? Is he a warlock? Did you feel magic around him?”
“None at all, but he was very matter-of-fact about the value, just tossed it out like a comment on the weather. I don’t see any way he could benefit from what I thought in one way or another.” Sydney caught at her lip with her teeth. “And another thing…”
Bryan waited while his daughter gathered her thoughts.
“My push didn’t work on him.”
Bryan shook his head. “That’s not possible. Your push works on anyone, anyone except those who can push back. Did he push you back?”
“I felt nothing like that. I felt…”
Bryan watched with interest as the pulse in Sydney’s neck kick-started and then began to knock against her pale skin with a vengeance. Color flooded her face, and the crystal in the chandelier began to sing. The heat shimmered between them as, for one moment, her emotions jumped beyond her control.
“How did you feel?” Bryan asked, holding in his smile as best he could. Despite Sydney’s protests, the meeting between her and Spencer couldn’t have gone better. Helena-Marie had been right. This was the man for his independent and strong-willed daughter.
“I felt jumpy… hot… nervous.” She ran her hand over Glimmer’s fur, and a tiny crackle sparked from her finger. Glimmer cuddled into her neck. “Different. Nothing like me. I’m not sure I liked it at all.” She shuddered. “I just don’t like it when I don’t feel like me.”
“I know, sweetheart. But it doesn’t sound…all that bad. Just different.”
“It was definitely that.” She leaned forward and gave him a warm kiss on the cheek. “Night, Dad. No early morning church meetings for me, but I’m hoping to catch a few tourists up bright and early. I’ve got a whole pallet of crystal balls to unload. They always do well this time of year, and we’ve got the harvest festival coming up. You know, the witchiest time of the year.” She snapped her fingers and sparks flew around her hand like tiny fireworks, popping and flashing.
“October is definitely a great month.”
So why did he suddenly feel so unsettled? If he were a superstitious man, he’d swear someone had walked over his grave, but warlocks and witches didn’t worry much about superstitions, and they certainly didn’t worry about graves, at least not their own. Those of others though…
He ruffled Glimmer’s fur and then peered into his daughter’s eyes, though he wasn’t sure exactly what he was searching for. Sydney’s gaze sparked with confusion.
“What’s the matter, Dad?”
“Nothing, at least nothing I’m aware of. Something just feels a bit…off I guess, though I’m not sure why.”
“Like something’s disrupted the Force?” Sydney asked with a laugh.
“Yeah, kind of like that. You’re being careful, right? You have the wards around the shop, have protected your classroom, your house is—”
“I’ve done all of that. In fact, I just strengthened everything when I moved the books to the shop. What are you worried about specifically?”
“I don’t know,” Bryan admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed. “Guess I’m just an old guy worried about the most precious thing in his life.” He scrubbed at Glimmer’s head. “And the second most precious.”
I hope that’s all it is.
“Are you fishing for compliments, Dad? That’s really quite pitiful, but if you need to hear it, you’ve still got enough charm and good looks to land any lady in this town, or this state.”
“Always nice to know I’ve still got it,” he joked.
Sydney didn’t laugh, and she didn’t smile. She stared at him, her brown eyes serious, studying him. “I wish I knew what was troubling you, but if has something to do with me, don’t worry. We’ll be fine. If there’s something you want to tell me though…” She offered a tentative, questioning smile.
Bryan pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Nope. Nothing. Get on out of here.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead and then, after she gave him another moment to change his mind and come clean, his daughter glided out the door like a graceful swan.
He would have come clean had he known what had suddenly disrupted his peace and clouded his mind. He kept no secrets from Sydney. Well, except one. That one he’d kept from most everyone, but it had happened years before, and he wasn’t going to revisit those dark times. He’d shoved those memories deep and planned to never let them see the light of day.
He locked up and set the alarm, and as he headed back to the library, he chuckled to himself. He did have another secret from his daughter, but it was just a small, necessary one, at least for now.
He’d steered Nick Spencer in his daughter’s direction because he knew Nick would be perfect for her. Now she just had to figure that out on her own. Until then, Bryan would accept any invoice Nick saw fit to give him. Sydney’s happiness was worth any price he had to pay.
And worth any price I have to pay to keep her safe.
Bryan frowned. Where had that thought come from?
* * * *
“So…how was your day?”
Janine gave Nick a little smirk, her lips tilting up on one side, her blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint that belonged more appropriately on someone of the elven species. On a witch it was downright scary, and oh, that look was so familiar. All the women in his family had it—or had. They’d lost their sister Natalie earlier in the year, the queen of the Spencer smirk and Nick’s twin. Even after six months, he missed Nat every single moment of every single day.
Nick glanced around Poisons and Potions to be sure no one was listening. It was packed, but he shouldn’t have been surprised since it was Saturday night. “You could have told me Sydney was a woman.”
“I could have,” his older sister and partner said, nodding like a sage who had just made a profound proclamation. Her short, spiked hair bounced with the movement of her head, the streaks of midnight blue among the blond strands glimmering in the low light of the bar. She lifted the apothecary mug holding her beer to her lips and smiled then took a long pull on the mug, downing most of her craft beer in one swallow. She gave a contented sigh as she put the mug down. “But it was so much more fun this way.”
“She doesn’t like me,” Nick groused.
“No way!” Janine said. “How is that possible? There can’t possibly be a woman on this earth who doesn’t like you. Never. I mean, you’re like every woman’s dream—”
“Shut up, Janine.”
“So stop whining like a little girl. It’s a good commission, Nick. Man up and get over yourself. Do you know who her father is?”
“Yeah, Bryan Janzen. I’m working with him on the library board.”
“He practically owns this town, and if you get in good with the Janzens, our company will be nothing but successful.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nick took a swallow of his own beer, but it tasted bitter. He hadn’t been right since he left Mystic Tides. That woman had done something to him, and it hadn’t been that little push she kept shoving his way. That he was used to because, along with that smirk, it was a trait tailored to perfection by the Spencer women. It just didn’t work on him.
“In case you’ve forgotten, we came to Blansett for some succ
ess.”
“Success we had,” Nick said. “It was the everything else we were missing.”
Janine put her hand over Nick’s. It felt warm and soft, and when her fingers wrapped around his, he felt his heart do that cracking thing, where the shell softened and his heart began to beat too hard and emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He pulled away, blinking rapidly, and glanced up into Janine’s teary eyes.
“We’re going to find it, Nick. We’re going to find that ‘everything else,’ and some day we’ll be able to think about Nat without…” Janine swallowed hard. “Without feeling like this.”
Their mother had called them Nick-Nat, always a set, as if thoughts of one automatically included the other, and Nick felt like half a person without his twin. Janine hadn’t been the same since the accident either, though she’d found her method of coping by throwing herself into work and her kids. Even then, memories attacked without warning. Getting out of Massachusetts had been a good decision. He thought of Nat only every other moment here, instead of every moment.
“Enough sad-sack crap.” Nick lifted a finger, and the server came over. “Two burgers with the works, two large onion rings, and two more of these.” He held up his mug.
“This life has to work,” Nick said seriously. “I mean that. We are going to give her everything we possibly can, and we’re going to be happy, damn it.”
Janine nodded. “She’s starting to smile again. She loves the house. She seems to enjoy her cousins.” Who wouldn’t enjoy Janine’s two rambunctious nine-year-olds? They swept through each day like happy hurricanes, dragging everyone along with them. “She even likes the babysitter. That’s a coup in itself.”
“Yeah, gotta believe you on that. And she manages to deal with Kenny and Keith too.”
“Well, Becky keeps them in line by making their toys disappear if they don’t behave, and Tawny is no slouch in the push department.”
“I wish she wouldn’t do that,” Nick said. “There has to be some trust with family members.”
“Muggles, what are you gonna do? I should have chosen my ex more carefully. My boys are hopeless, no magic and impossibly dense too. Sometimes they don’t even know the magic is flying around. Serves them right when their toys disappear.”
Mystic Tides Page 11