by Liz Long
“Do you think Courtney was real? Or something your subconscious imagined?” He stirred his coffee, the spoon gently clinking against the ceramic mug.
“She seemed pretty confident that she was not only a “real” part of my dream, but that she’d be back as much as she could.”
“Why would she continue to haunt your dreams?”
“To make sure I was safe, for one. She heard the killer talking about witches and their power, about me.” Cooper's hands tightened on his cup and she plowed through. “She wants to make this guy pay. She agrees with your idea of killing him.”
“There’s no debate on that one, regardless of what she says,” he mumbled.
“You might want revenge, but she knows this guy is evil. She doesn’t want him going after anyone else or performing any more dark magic. He’ll keep doing whatever he wants until he reaches his goals, whatever those are.”
“Did she say anything else?”
“That’s everything she knew about him. At least, that’s as far as we got. I’m hoping to ask more questions next time and hopefully she’ll have more answers.”
“That’s it?” He raised an eyebrow.
“What, you expect her to say more?” Ruby took a large gulp of coffee to hide her face. She didn’t want to accidentally burst into nervous giggles and give anything away. Courtney would have to haunt Cooper's dreams for him to hear her opinion on them.
“She always had a lot to say.” Cooper rolled his eyes.
“Nope, I think that’s everything important.”
“Uh huh. What have you been doing since you got up?” he asked.
Ruby filled him in on the news headlines and the articles she’d read and he grimaced.
“Does the public know he’s after witches?”
She shrugged. “Not that I can tell. The media doesn’t know yet, anyways, so the public doesn’t know. The coven was surprised when we told them, but I hope Phillips and whoever else is involved can keep that quiet.”
“You don’t think it’s a good idea for people to know.”
“Most people roll their eyes at us and think we dance around under the moon with candles, but if they think we’re a reason for a psychopath? If we’re a threat to their families or friends, it could become a legitimate witch hunt.”
“That might make them less scared, though, knowing they’re safe if they don’t practice Wicca.”
“Maybe, but is that a chance you’re willing to take?”
He grimaced. “No, I guess not.”
“And if they know we can do real magic? They might come after us anyway.” She shrugged.
He sat back in his chair and rubbed his jaw, his hand against stubble like sandpaper. “It’s not like we go around broadcasting who we are or what we do, though.”
“I don’t think it matters. They’ll try to avoid any attempts on their own lives.”
“You sure don’t think much of humanity.”
“You and I both know people are capable of terrible things,” she said in a dark tone. “Anyway, if the cops can keep that topic out of the media, I think that would be a huge help. If anyone catches wind of it, maybe they can pass it off as some silly rumor rather than a theory. Let them think the killer is a total wackadoo for even believing in witches.”
“But it’s not a theory,” he pointed out. “He is killing witches.”
“You and I and other witches know that, but the fewer people who know, the better. We’re already in danger, let’s keep it to the minimum.”
“We nothing,” he replied with a glare at the kitchen table. He looked up at her, his eyes like lasers. “You’re in danger. I want you to stop thinking of everything else for a minute and focus on you. Should we get you out of town?”
“No,” she said without hesitation. “He’s not chasing me out. If he’s as powerful as we think he is, it won’t matter. He’ll find me no matter what.”
“So what’s your plan, then?”
“I haven’t gotten that far,” she admitted.
Cooper closed his eyes briefly before looking down at his coffee. “Maybe we form a plan, then. You know, in case he pops out from behind the bushes.”
“I need to have some spells ready. Maybe have vials ready to go, practice a little more to push myself.”
“You’re already pretty good.”
“I could be better. Looks like I’ll have to be; he got through my protection ward, the second best one I have, I might add, without any problem.”
“Second best?”
“The first one is on my armoire. I can barely get in it sometimes,” she said with a faint smile. “He tried but couldn’t break it, so at least there’s that.”
“Why do you have different levels of protection?”
“The one on my armoire requires a bit more on all fronts—concentration, herbs, blood. I don’t really want to cut my hand every time I leave my apartment.”
Cooper stuck his bottom lip out in thought and nodded. “Yeah, that seems fair.”
Trying not to stare at his mouth, she took a much too big gulp of coffee and burned the hell out of her mouth. She remembered something he’d said at the coven meeting last night.
“Why didn’t you tell me Courtney’s Book of Shadows is missing?” Her tone came out sharper than she’d intended and he grimaced as though he’d hoped she wouldn’t remember.
“I didn’t want you to worry. Kinda hoped I’d overlooked it, honestly. I searched her apartment and car, thought maybe she’d even left it over here.”
“No way. You know us both better than that.” A witch’s Book of Shadows was no college textbook; it was more like a diary, passed down from the previous generations. Ruby had never met any witch who allowed their book in the open where humans could see it.
Ruby’s own mother had passed along their Book of Shadows to her when she was twenty-five. Ruby had of course used it plenty of times in her life, learning magic from her mother and their ancestors, but it became hers when her mother remarried. Ruby’s father died from cirrhosis; two years later, her mother met a wealthy, normal businessman. Because of his aversion to magic, she denounced the craft and all that went with it, including Ruby and their Book of Shadows. The stepfather had written a rather large check to Ruby as compensation, though her mother had forced it on her as a weak apology. Ruby hadn’t spoken to her mother in three years and had no intention to break the silence.
A knock on the door startled them from the conversation and they looked at each other with blank stares.
“Expecting company?” Cooper asked.
“I haven’t even called the landlord yet.” Ruby made a mental note to fix that to get her locks changed. She got up and went to her door, peeked through the peephole to find a good-looking African-American guy in a police uniform. She unlocked and opened the door.
“Can I help you?” she asked, looking up at what must’ve been six and a half feet of him.
“I’m Officer Marshall. I live on the basement floor of this building. Detective Phillips asked me to stop by and check on you,” he said, his voice a rich baritone. He held up his badge so she could see his proof of identity.
“Oh, right. Please, come in. Would you like some coffee?”
He followed her inside, shutting the door behind him. “If you don’t mind. Black, please.”
Cooper, who could hear the conversation from the kitchen, already had the officer’s cup ready when they sat down. The policeman asked a few questions about the night’s incidents and Ruby told him everything she’d told the detective.
Officer Ben Marshall took very detailed notes and although it was upside down to Ruby’s eyes, she clearly caught the word “armoire” in the mix. Her hand fluttered to the chain around her neck again; she couldn’t stop them from looking at it as it was technically a possible clue, but the whole idea made her nervous.
“I don’t think you’ll need to go down to the station,” Marshall told her. “I’ll take all of this back to Detective Phillips an
d save you a trip down there.”
“Thank you,” Ruby said, relief clear in her voice.
“Can I see the armoire?”
Ruby grimaced but nodded. They stood up and went into her bedroom; she pointed out the piece to Marshall and explained the small scratch. He took a photo with his phone and slipped his notebook and phone back into his jacket pocket.
“Since he didn’t break in, I don’t need to see the inside. But you told Phillips it was your grandmother’s jewelry in there? Do you know the value of it?”
“Um, okay, I should be honest since I’d hate to get killed by this guy because I didn’t tell you the truth.” Ruby took the necklace off, unlocking the armoire. “But you might find the contents a little strange.”
She opened the small doors and stepped back so they could all see the inside. Her modest altar came into full view. Her Book of Shadows sat in the center on top of a painted-on pentacle. The herbs, crystals, candles and cauldron she used sat to the left. A neat line of empty vials and containers stood on the right, waiting to be filled with potions. A tiny silver bell stood in the back corner. Her athame, a small sheathed dagger with a delicately jeweled handle, completed the questionable-looking picture. Ruby looked at Officer Marshall, whose face didn’t change or register any surprise.
“So you think this guy was trying to get your book?” he asked.
Ruby nodded. “Assuming you don’t think we’re crazy, practicing witches are very particular about where they keep their spell book. And if you believe it, some witches are known to sense and track down magic. I think he got in past my protection spell at the front door and sniffed down my altar, so to speak.”
“And he couldn’t get to it because he’d need a key? Why didn’t he break the lock?”
“That would be the even bigger protection spell I put on the armoire. Only I can open it, that I’m sure of.” She shot a nervous glance to Cooper, who gave her a shrug.
“I see.” Officer Marshall’s face remained calm and he stepped back without further questioning.
“You don’t need a photo or anything?”
He shook his head. “No, I think we’ll leave this out of the reports. Thank you for showing me, but since I’d rather not have anyone think you’re nuts, I’ll pretend I only saw the scratch.”
“That’s it?” she asked in surprise. “You’re not going to tell me I’m insane or ask to flip through spells or anything?”
He chuckled as he stepped away, motioned that he would be leaving. Ruby locked the armoire back up and they followed him out to her front door.
“Ms. Jackson, what you believe in is none of my business. If this is your religion, I’m not one to go around making fun of it. I heard rumors of the killer going after witches, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s one more serial killer with a messed up agenda. I’m going to do my best to keep you safe and if you think you can make a protection spell to help us out, who am I to say you’re crazy? I’ll take all the help I can get.”
Ruby and Cooper breathed a sigh of relief. She beamed at him, felt a weight lift off her shoulders. “Thank you. That means more than you know. Your objectivity makes you a great cop.”
Marshall kept a straight face, but she could tell he was pleased. He cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m headed to the station to finish the report. I’ll make sure the landlord changes your lock. Here’s my number; don’t hesitate to call me or come downstairs to find me.”
With a sharp nod to them, Officer Marshall turned on his heel and headed down the hallway. Ruby shut the door and turned to Cooper.
“Well that’s a relief,” he said first. She nodded in agreement and he asked, “Now that that’s taken care of, what did you want to do for the rest of the day?”
“Thought I might reinforce my own personal magic bubble.”
“I could sit with you, give you some extra oomph. I think we’d make good magic together.”
Ruby bit back a grin at his suggestive tone, not sure if he was messing with her. His serious tone might say one thing, but the sparkle in his eyes reminded her of earlier years, of flirting and shared glances and missed moments.
“That might be possible,” she said.
“I could use a boost on mine too, so everyone wins.” He looked down at the floor before speaking again. “Courtney’s landlord gave me a call, wanted to know when he could get the apartment cleared out. I thought I’d sort through it tomorrow. There might be some stuff you still own or want to keep. Do you want to maybe help me out?”
“Absolutely. There’s a good chance I’ll get most of my sweaters back.”
“Stole half your closet, huh? She’d just take the hard-earned cash right out of my wallet. She called it a “sister fee” but I knew it was usually for groceries. Like I’d stop her.” He smiled at a memory. “She’d always spend a little of it on my favorite beer and leave it in the fridge for me to find.”
“That does explain why she always had so many snack cakes,” Ruby said with a grin.
CHAPTER TWELVE
That Monday, Ruby spent the entire day with Cooper at Courtney’s apartment. She had planned to go back to work, but Miranda insisted she help Cooper with the apartment and not to worry. Ruby had never been so grateful that Miranda was her boss.
They separated and boxed up everything - all of Courtney’s clothes and most of the furniture would be donated. Ruby kept almost all of the personal things such as books and movies, her laptop and photo albums. Cooper only wanted a necklace that their mother had given Courtney before the car accident.
They didn’t talk much. Ruby had lots of memories here since she’d lived with Courtney for years before Michael. She tried her hardest to keep firmly focused on cleaning so as not to fall apart. She and Cooper had never spent this much time alone; Courtney was always with them and her absence that day was painfully obvious.
After movers came to take out everything, they cleaned from top to bottom, leaving no evidence of Courtney in the place. It was late when they finished; covered in grime, they put the last box in Ruby’s car and locked the apartment door behind them. Neither of them talked much on the way back to Ruby’s, but she knew she needed a break from the tension and said as much to Cooper.
“You’re right,” he said, almost sounding relieved. “Tell you what - we’ll get this stuff upstairs and I’ll pick up Chinese food and beer while you shower, since you described yourself earlier as being “covered in gross.” We’ll put in a movie and fall asleep from food comas.”
Ruby laughed. “Perfect.”
Half an hour later, they were in their sweats on Ruby’s couch, blissfully chowing down on eggrolls and lo mein. At one point, Ruby’s chopsticks failed her and rice went flying. She and Cooper cleaned it up, sharing a laugh while doing so, and Ruby realized she’d never been this comfortable with a guy, not even when living with Michael. He had such a rigorous routine, wanted to look his best at all times, even keeping his apartment spotless with everything in its place - in case anyone dropped in, she supposed - that she’d wanted to live up to his expectations. While Michael had never seen her in so much as a ratty t-shirt, Cooper and Courtney had both seen her at her best and worst, in more ways than one.
After putting away the leftovers, Ruby padded back into the living room where Cooper had sprawled out across the couch, leaving nowhere to sit but the chair. When she went past him to take a seat, however, he caught her by the wrist, his thumb and forefinger rubbing every so slightly on her skin. The rest of Ruby’s skin instantly craved his warm touch.
“Maybe we could lie here on the couch? I promise no funny business. I’ll probably fall asleep twenty minutes into the movie, anyway,” he said with a small smile.
Heart in her throat, Ruby nodded, lying down with her back to him. She prayed he couldn’t hear her racing heartbeat. He laid an arm over her, cradling her and she felt him breathe in her shampoo. Her breath caught in her throat and wordlessly she hit “play” on the remote.
�
��Thank you for everything today,” Cooper whispered. His breath tickled the hair by her ear and she bit her lip to prevent a sigh from escaping her.
“Of course,” she said. “I would never have let you do that alone.”
He squeezed her tight to him, brushed his lips against her ear in thanks before relaxing, arm still draped over her. They fell silent and watched the first half of the action movie Cooper had put in. True to his word, Cooper fell asleep somewhere after that and Ruby lay there, content to snooze in his arms. Her eyelids drooped a little and when she opened her eyes again, Courtney stood in front her her, hand on her hip and a grin that could’ve covered a small state.
“Ruby and Cooper, sittin’ in a tree,” she sang. Ruby shot her a dirty look as she continued, “k-i-s-s-i-n-g!”
“Stop it,” Ruby whispered. “What are you doing here?”
“Why, is it awkward?” Courtney smiled the grin of a little sister who’d caught her big brother doing something naughty. She plopped down in the reading chair by Ruby’s head, giggled at the blush on her best friend’s cheeks.
“You are such a prude,” Courtney scolded. “Thank god you aren’t naked or you might actually die of embarrassment.”
Careful not to wake Cooper, Ruby shifted his arm around her, positioned herself to sit up and look at Courtney. Her hair sat neatly on her shoulders; no shimmering appeared and for a moment, Ruby could’ve sworn Courtney was as real as the chair she sat in.
“So I was thinking,” Courtney said, her tone turning serious, “you should check with Cooper about some friends of his. Look into his old pals.”
“What makes you say that?”
She shrugged. “Seems the longer I’m hanging around, the more that’s coming back to me. Last time I saw you I could only think about my murder and fuck, that hurt. But now I remember that I got a note sometime before…ya know. Maybe two or three months ago.”
“From whom?”
Courtney shot her an annoyed look; she didn’t like to be interrupted. “The note mentioned my brother. Said that I should get Coop to come back and return the money or they’d make him pay. Guess someone took care of that, huh?”