“I’ll take my car then. You won’t have to worry about getting me home by my bedtime. But you’re the one with the database, right?”
When Dane stared at him blankly, Sean explained. He had a patient way of doing it, something he must have picked up teaching.
“John mentioned I wasn’t in the database, I assume of Order members.”
“Witches aren’t usually in the Order.”
“But it would make sense they would have their own lists of other groups. And I doubt this would be a list you could access anywhere, so you must have a copy.”
Dane turned and stepped outside. All true. It was almost annoying for Sean to be so good at figuring shit out.
“I haven’t looked at it yet,” he said.
Sean snorted.
“Of course you haven’t. See you there.”
Dane sped. He got there first, checked in on the kitchen section, the coffee prep, and the workers, and was even able to duck down to the Lair before Sean arrived. Dane wasn’t expecting him to let himself down, though, and started when Sean appeared at the bottom of the stairs, grabbing the nearest thing to him—a bottle of rye.
“Shit, Sean. I could’ve killed you,” said Dane, dumping the bottle back on the shelf. “You shut the frickin’ door?”
“Of course I did. Let’s see this list.”
Dane rummaged around for the correct data device and plugged it into the tablet, trying to ignore Sean as the man moved to stand right next to him. When their shoulders brushed he shoved into Sean.
“Could you not do that?”
“What the hell? Not touch you? I thought I’d be the one to get weird after sex.”
“It didn’t mean anything.” Dane opened the list of witch-affiliated organizations. “There’s no point in getting close.”
“You stayed the night.”
“It didn’t mean anything.”
“You made me breakfast.”
“It didn’t mean anything, asshole.” Dane shoved the tablet at Sean and grabbed the rye again, throwing himself in the one chair and unscrewing the top. “There. Have a look.”
“Huh,” said Sean as Dane drank. “There’s a lot of witch groups but only one with members in Bleu Falls. The Guild of Green Growers.”
“They’re the plant-specialists. Some of the most boring witches around. Well, unless they get started with poisons or cacti or whatever their current kink is. Speaking of, there was one a while back who tied up her prey with vines. By prey I mean people. She did some unspeakable things to them.”
“I can imagine,” said Sean, but his mind sounded distant. “I couldn’t locate their address online, but it’s right here. The Cauldwells, all the way across town. Want to drop by and figure out why they’re mixed up in this?”
“Then you’ll get out of here?” asked Dane, glaring at the flicker of disappointment that passed over Sean’s face. He wasn’t going to get sucked into a relationship. Not with this guy.
“Then I’ll get out of here,” said Sean, though he didn’t sound happy. “I’ll drive.”
Dane was fine with letting him do that. Gave him the ability to drink a little more before leaving, prepare himself to meet witches. Sean watched him suspiciously as he collected up the weapons he wanted and turned down a knife. Dane shrugged and selected a machete. Maybe they’d have a spelled flowerpot he’d need to hack up.
Sean said nothing on the drive over, either, and Dane wasn’t sure whether to take that as a good sign or not. The Cauldwell home was down a long dirt driveway and looked exactly like Dane was expecting: a squashed old cottage, part wood and part stone, wildly overgrown everywhere but the path up to the door. Chimes tinkled in the wind and by the time he and Sean had gotten out, a figure was standing in the doorway.
“Hey,” said Sean, approaching the woman unafraid. She looked to be about early twenties, white with green and brown hair, somewhat messy. She wore clothes stitched with floral patterns, your typical looking witch.
“Can I help you?” she asked. She tilted her head up as they climbed the steps to the porch, unafraid. Her eyes took in Sean first and apparently thought him not much of a threat, but when she glanced at Dane her eyes narrowed. He grinned.
“I’m the local Decrypter. Just moved in, thought I’d introduce myself. Dane Sanders.”
He held out his hand, but predictably she didn’t take it.
“We’re legal. In a Guild, and we don’t need an inspection,” she said.
“We know,” said Sean. “We’re not here for that. You’re a Cauldwell, right?”
“Hazel,” she said, then eyed Dane again before pulling the door open. “Come in, sit down. Mother will expect you to be quick.”
She led them into the first room, cluttered with old chairs and an assortment of nature in various stages of live-to-dead. There were plants over everything, feathers, rocks, bones, crystals…Dane watched Sean’s expression as he took in the room.
“What did I tell you? Witches keep shit around.”
Moments later Hazel’s mother entered, Hazel behind her. The older Cauldwell was dressed nearly identically to her daughter, although she was shorter and there was grey as well as green in her hair. She moved to a chair across from Sean but addressed Dane.
“Adonia Cauldwell. What do you want? I don’t present creds to any old Decrypter wandering around. We don’t answer to you or your Order.”
“The Order didn’t ask me to come,” said Dane.
Adonia gave him a disgusted look and stood.
“Then you can get out,” she said.
Dane glanced at Sean, who was blinking at the hostility, when the door opened. Two men entered, both Cauldwells in appearance, one in his nineties at least and leaning on the other. Dane would bet anything the other was Hazel’s brother, and his hair had the green in it, too. No wonder these people didn’t have a listed address.
“Don’t stand there staring, Percival,” snapped Adonia. She gestured sharply with a hand.
“Want me to see your…visitors…out?” asked Percival, the younger man, but his mother scowled.
“No, I want you to get Uther to bed.” She turned back to Dane and Sean as the old man grumbled about wanting a walk. “And what are you two still doing sitting there?”
“I’m so sorry,” said Sean, taking over the talking. “This is my fault. I’m Professor Sean Sanderson, from the college. I—well, it’s a long story—Bethany Becker, the young woman who died in a car crash recently, was one of my students. Because of everything involving her death, I was asked to check into some things with her business and your name came up…”
“And you’re with a Decrypter why?” asked Hazel.
“He was doing research in my business. Crypt Coffee? Heard of it?” asked Dane, hoping he was making them uncomfortable. “I saw he was trying to find you and offered to help.”
Adonia frowned, but nodded toward Sean.
“What do you need from us, professor?”
“Her sales went up recently, and I wanted to make sure…it was all normal. I thought you might know something about it, being in the same business, and she’d written your name down in a way that suggested you were rivals. If her next of kin need to be worrying about something illegal…”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” said Adonia. “And I wouldn’t turn your back on the Decrypter. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, professor.”
Dane was intrigued now, but she was pointing to the door, and to his disappointment Sean was going along with it. He had no choice but to follow him out.
Chapter 13
Sean would have smiled had the situation been different. Dane hadn’t even cared to come here, now he seemed reluctant to leave. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glared, and took his sweet time approaching the car.
“What?” asked Sean.
Dane leaned against the passenger door, scowling.
“Something’s going on there.”
“Now you’re suspiciou
s?” Sean shook his head.
“You’re not?”
“I—”
Sean trailed off at the sight of Hazel walking toward them, mouth pulled taut. She approached him, glancing once at Dane but clearly preferring the bulk of the car to be between them.
“Professor?” she asked, and continued without giving him a chance to speak. “Whatever this…Decrypter tells you, we’re completely legal.”
“Really,” said Dane, almost sneering at her. Sean was irritated at how rude he was behaving. “Going to tell you now, your wiles won’t work on him—I already claimed him.”
“What the hell.” Sean wanted to smack him. “Nobody needs to know about that. You were just insisting it didn’t mean anything.”
“And it doesn’t. For me. You, on the other hand…”
“Dane, if you’re saying it means you have a hold over me, it clearly means something to you, doesn’t it? Just nothing good.”
Dane opened his mouth to respond to that but Hazel spoke first.
“You’re disgusting,” she said. “Why would I try to seduce someone as old as he is? No offense, professor.”
Sean stared at her. Dane laughed, and her eyes darted over to him, narrowed.
“I’m saying you have terrible taste, Decrypter. Which is frankly unsurprising, but another thing to witness altogether. I’m not here to use my wiles or whatever else your filthy mind is thinking, so you can shut the hell up and let me talk.”
Dane glared at her but apparently wanted to hear what it was she had to say more than he wanted to mess with her, which was somewhat of a relief, as Sean was interested in why she’d followed him, too. That and he really wanted to forget the mention of his age.
“I’m listening,” he said.
Hazel turned back to him.
“You’re here with a Decrypter, so I’m guessing you’re not as ignorant about everything as you were playing up. But assuming you do still care about your student, look—we didn’t do anything to her. And don’t take this the wrong way, but it was her fault.”
“Right,” said Dane. “And the reason why she thought you were calling and threatening her?”
“I’ll admit to that—but I wouldn’t do it again in front of my mother, so forget I mentioned it.” Hazel was still talking to Sean, not bothering to look at Dane.
“So you called Bethany,” he said.
She breathed out hard.
“Yes. And I might have given her the impression that something very unfortunate would happen to her if she kept fooling around with her enhanced herbs.”
“Fucking witches,” muttered Dane.
“I was doing her a favor,” said Hazel, stance stiffer now. “Something very unfortunate would happen if she kept up like that. She knew the herbs were different in the magic well. She saw how it changed her products. We all know she’d get a visit from one of your cleaners, and then she’d be screwed. They’re not so kind as we are.”
“The Order is ten times more humane than whatever you’re thinking,” said Dane.
“That’s why they killed her?” asked Hazel.
Dane gaped, but Sean was intrigued. Hazel didn’t know. If Hazel didn’t know, it couldn’t have been the witches.
“So you were warning her,” he said.
She nodded.
“I understand you think my methods were bad, but I didn’t want her to die. We were going about this the right way, but it was taking too long.” Hazel shrugged. “So I called her up a few times. Tried to scare her. She shouldn’t have been working with magic anyway. It was so far above her level of comprehension…”
Dane leaned hard against the car now.
“Wait,” he said, “what do you mean you were going about it the right way?”
Hazel shot him a scathing look.
“You already know we were filing the paperwork. First thing my mother did when we found out. Paperwork to the Guild, they file with the Order. You know how it works. Paperwork, fees, and waiting for the bureaucracy to get over its shit and spit out a decision. We were waiting to see if we were supposed to handle it, or a Guild specialist was to come in, or the Order itself was going to take over.”
Sean looked over at Dane. For whatever reason, despite the variety of organizations, he’d somewhat assumed they weren’t a quagmire of positions and procedures. It was almost funny, these secret sects operating in much the same way any other political structure did. Magic he found hard to grasp. This system, though? Sean navigated this every day as a professor. He could practically feel the irritation rolling off of Hazel as she explained.
“Look, I get to the Order newsletter eventually,” said Dane, obviously interpreting Sean’s expression as one of accusation. “On the shitter, usually.”
“So you didn’t know these people were going through official channels?” asked Sean. He wasn’t surprised, but damn Dane had been blaming them and everything. “Great, Dane.”
Dane winced.
“Shut up. I’m not a dog.”
“About as smart as one,” said Hazel. “You came out here to accuse us of something and you didn’t even bother to look into the situation?”
“Brittany said you were threatening her.”
“Bethany,” said Sean.
Dane scowled.
“Whatever.”
“See, this is typical of Decrypters, professor,” said Hazel. “The whole Order, actually. Because they’re the biggest association, because they claim to have noble roots, whatever the hell that means, they can do anything they want. They don’t have to look into anything because they arbitrarily decide who’s guilty, and if a Decrypter goes ahead and makes a mistake, they cover for the person.”
“I’m not going to let him go after you if you didn’t do anything,” said Sean.
Both Hazel and Dane rolled their eyes.
“Fuck off, professor,” said Dane.
“We don’t need your protection,” said Hazel. “We’re doing things legally, and you can bet your already-claimed ass we can defend ourselves.” Sean opened his mouth, but she continued. “All you need to know is this: my mother filed the paperwork the moment we knew what Bethany was into. It’s all legal, you can go back to your little love den and confirm it with whoever you want.”
“But you did threaten her,” said Dane.
“And I won’t admit it again after this. If you’re here to pin it on us, you’re scum. Bethany was the only person doing anything wrong. She cut into our profits, too, and she was threatening to blow the cover on magic. Your issue is with her—we figure it’s why the Order didn’t want to wait to process the paperwork, just took care of it themselves.”
“The Order doesn’t—”
Sean interrupted him, suspecting objecting to this would lead to a fight.
“Bethany was the problem, you didn’t murder her—is that all you want us to know?”
Hazel took a few steps back.
“Even if he is good in bed, he’ll stab you in the back. Take care, professor.”
She turned and walked off back to the house, and Sean yanked open the car door. He got in, slammed it shut, and sat staring at the wheel. Dane got in a few moments later and grunted.
“Witches,” he said. “Annoying fucking witches, getting their fingers into everything. I think you’re onto something, professor.”
“It’s Sean.” He started the car, turned it around. “The least you can do is use my name if you’re going to announce to whoever you want we’re fucking.”
“Fucked,” said Dane. “That we fucked.”
“Because that was a one-time-only thing.”
“You’re catching on.”
“You’re not.” Sean felt suddenly very, very tired. And tomorrow was Monday. He held back a groan at the thought of that, his normal classes, catch-up on shit he hadn’t gotten done. He wanted a sabbatical. But he wasn’t due for one for years yet.
“You’re going to have to use a little more than sarcasm on me to get me in your bed again.”
>
“Great. All right. We’re done talking, we’re done fucking, I’ll drop you back off at Crypt Coffee, and we can go our separate ways. You burn up the ghosts, I’ll go get my coffee at the Campus Jo like I used to, and with luck we’ll never bump into each other again.”
“Nice try,” said Dane. “You know too much.”
“Is that a threat?” asked Sean. Dane was beginning to really piss him off.
“No.”
“I don’t trust that. Can you not flip-flop on things?”
Sean pulled into Crypt Coffee and was tempted to just dump Dane at the door and drive off. Did he really need someone like this asshole in his life? Sure, he enjoyed the rush from dealing with the ghost and looking into the murder, and he’d more than enjoyed Dane spending the night, but it all was an outrageous amount of danger. And if he was honest with himself, Hazel had touched on that little nagging doubt in his mind—if Dane was the kind of man who could turn him in to get his mind wiped, what else was the man capable of doing?
“I don’t flip-flop, asshole,” said Dane.
Sean parked. He shut off the car and began counting on his fingers.
“You try to make me go away on that Friday only to tell me what’s going on later. You don’t think we should do anything about Bethany’s death, then you insist we burn down her house. You don’t think it’s murder, then you think it’s witches. You’re not into sex then you’re into it again, and even with all your posturing now I think you’ll just change your mind agai—”
Dane got out and slammed the car door shut on his words, but Sean was through with not discussing things to conclusion. He stalked after Dane, into Crypt Coffee and down the stairs, then down into the Lair. Dane seemed to be trying to ignore Sean, replacing his additional weapons to their usual places, keeping his back on Sean, who crossed his arms and watched him.
He had good shoulders, a nice ass. Sean appraised Dane without shame, caring less now than he had even a week ago. If Dane was going to turn his back, Sean was going to appreciate the view. Dane could be the one to get angry.
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