Instead, he’d followed the coven’s casual dress code, with pinstripe pants and wingtip shoes.
That only seemed to fool tourists who sneaked glances his way and whispered “witch” to each other.
The old crone witches didn’t glance—they stared. One wrinkled the nose of her ferret-like face, which perched neckless onto her plump body. Did she possess the Sight, giving her the ability to see his true form? Most witches couldn’t see through fae glamour. It took a talented hedge witch accustomed to the ways of fae or a learned seer or a rare witch born with the Sight. Hedge witches posed no threat, desiring mutualistic dealings with faeries, but a seer or sibyl could be dangerous. If advanced enough to reach the level the coven termed “empowered,” they could inflict serious physical damage or even death to fae. Not to him, as a king with stronger magic, but Thayne didn’t want to engage in a fight. That would expose his true identity and end his chances of obtaining Esmeralda’s black amber.
Prickly heat from his failed first attempt crawled along his skin. Had it thinned his glamour mask?
The ferret-faced old witch smirked in his direction and shook her head so hard, strands of salt and pepper hair escaped her bun.
Only twenty feet to the door, Thayne darted outside. Not slowing his pace, he inhaled a lungful of bracing winter air. Anger somewhat assuaged, he slunk into the red sedan of his sentry’s transformed shape.
“Get us out of here,” Thayne said, his voice strained. He rested against the seat and drew cooling frost through his body until icicles pointed from his fingertips.
White Eagle navigated through the crowded lot and turned onto the road. “My King, did you get the talisman?”
Thayne grunted, “No,” without offering an explanation. The vision of Esmeralda obliterated his thoughts. Her downturned face, the flash of anger and resentful tears when she picked up the bills, made him wonder why the pendant meant so much to her. Why didn’t she meet his gaze? She’d looked into his eyes at other times so intently that she tore at his concentration. In those moments, his glamour had slipped, enough that she flinched, probably from a glimpse of his true appearance with Arctic lights coloring his black irises.
Thayne clenched a fist, jagged icicle nails torturing his flesh and forcing thoughts of Esmeralda away. This morning Raclaw had made a strong second attempt to gain the gem with no regard for the girl’s safety. That fierceness of purpose came easy to Raclaw, following the Autumn Court’s ethics, which honored death above life. While Thayne and his court didn’t uphold such barbarism, he should’ve pressed Esmeralda harder at the market, stepped closer and used his magic to bend her will. He could easily overpower her. Why didn’t he? He’d lost his resolve and retreated. Something his father never did. Thayne chastised himself for his weakness, the icy nails drawing points of blood.
***
Late afternoon found Thayne back at the market with renewed will and another, more cunning approach to gain the black amber. A half hour before closing, he strolled into the hall. Luckily, the ferret-faced seer was nowhere to be found.
Before he reached Esmeralda’s booth, Thayne heard the socialite coordinator’s cloying voice, and he hid behind a support post.
“Don’t worry. It was a good first time for you. Folks got to meet you. They’ll come around.”
“I hope so,” Esmeralda replied. “I’m going to expand my product lines and include some charmed items as well.” Her tone lifted with a hopefulness that lightened Thayne’s apprehension after witnessing the dark look on her face earlier.
“That’s the way to reel ‘em in.” A familiar male voice rang out.
Thayne peered around the post, and every muscle in his body tensed.
The sheriff’s deputy who he’d seen at Esmeralda’s door yesterday morning stood grinning at her like he wanted to protect her from everyone except himself. Tall and authoritative in his tan uniform with gold embellishments, he commanded her attention. Had her enthusiasm resulted from this man’s appearance?
“I agree, Deputy Garrett. It sounds perfect.” The coordinator rotated one foot on her stiletto heel and laughed toward Esmeralda. “And just in time for the post-Thanksgiving rush. We’ll be packed with tourists next Saturday. Just make sure the magic you include is mild enough for them to handle.”
Garrett chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many calls we get from out-of-town shoppers about how to deal with something magical they picked up here at the market.”
“Not a problem.” Esmeralda smiled. “It’s easy enough to pick out the tourists and steer them toward the less potent items.”
The deputy leaned closer over the table examining a candle. “This color is the exact beautiful blue of your eyes.”
Thayne bounded from behind the post and collided with the coordinator on her way from the booth. He caught her elbow and steadied her balance. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful.”
“No. My mistake.” She shivered slightly under his touch, and her twinkling eyes locked on his. Common reactions from Thayne’s dealings with mortal females. He avoided contact with them, but this time he’d reacted without proper caution.
He pulled his arm away and took a step back, attempting to dampen the attraction elicited by his strong fae magic. Unlike the seer, this witch’s powers bent under his.
“You must be here to help Esme pack up.” As if unable to look away, her gaze followed him. “I noticed you helped her unload. She’s a lucky girl.”
“I can lend a hand,” the deputy offered with a grin toward Esmeralda.
Thayne strode into the booth, causing the coordinator to spin like a top on her spiked heels. “I know how everything fits into her car. It will be easier for me.”
Esmeralda smirked. “I’m capable without either of you.” Thayne didn’t know how to take her reaction. At least she didn’t encourage the deputy, but Thayne needed her dependence on his own help to gain the black amber.
He moved behind her display and lifted crates for her to fill.
“I’ll go get a hand truck,” the deputy announced and left the booth.
Disregarding Thayne’s helpful gesture, Esmeralda turned away, positioned her own crate, and packed jars.
He cleared his throat and leaned toward her. “I’m sorry for how I behaved before. I should’ve explained.”
“Explained what?” She shot him a caustic look. “That you expect to buy anything you want? And if you can’t, you act like a spoiled child? At least Deputy Garrett behaves like a man.”
The stab and unfavorable comparison caught Thayne off guard. He’d spent the entire afternoon plotting and rehearsing his plan to obtain the witch’s amber. Of all the imagined potential obstacles, competing and losing against a rival for her attention wasn’t one he’d considered. He leaned against the table beside her and spoke in a calm tone. “I guess it did seem that way, but that’s not the case.”
She quirked a single brow and snapped, “Really?”
He shook his head in response to her but also in disbelief of his dilemma. How could he get her to listen?
From across the hall, the deputy tipped his hat to passersby as he wheeled an upright cart toward Esmeralda’s booth. His presence would squelch Thayne’s chance to get her to accept his apology.
Frost, in the shape of fern fronds, wound along the back of his neck. He had to think of something fast. “I’d like to apologize by taking you to dinner. Would you please join me?”
Esmeralda froze, hovering over her crate. When Garrett rolled in with the handcart, she seemed thankful for the distraction. She spoke to the deputy with a false-sounding animated tone. “Great. Using that might get me out of here that much quicker.”
Thayne grimaced and moved toward the back of the booth.
Garrett lifted her filled crate onto the bottom platform. When he took hold of a second, he waited until Esmeralda glanced his way and said, “I saw on the sheriff’s log that the incident you witnessed was reported by the high priest.”
“
Oh?” She whirled to face him, her hand curling a pack of brochures. “Good to know.”
Her tense reaction piqued Thayne’s curiosity. He picked up an accordion file and moved closer to store business cards and leaflets.
“The sheriff asked me to check on you.”
Her brows shot up. “Really? Why?”
“Probably to make sure you’re safe. He didn’t say.” Into an empty crate, the deputy loaded an assortment of jars and candles within reach and stacked those on top of the previous load.
“Wait,” Esmeralda yelped and grabbed the crate from his hands. “I need to have them arranged a certain way. Candles and jars are different heights and don’t stack safely.”
He looked at her as if he’d been wounded and replaced crates onto the table. Thayne understood the man’s reaction but chose to display no empathy for his rival. When the deputy emptied the hand truck, he said to her, “You pack, and I’ll load.”
She shook her head. “There are no lids on these crates. Stacking could crack the glass. Thank you for offering to help, but I can do it myself.”
“Okay, then.” He blew out a slow breath. “If you see anything alarming, especially around your home, and need me to check it out, just call…anytime. You’ve got my number.”
Thayne struggled to conceal a smirk.
“Thank you, but Thayne will be around this evening during dinner.” She moved closer to Thayne, and his breath lurched. Were her words just a ploy she used to get rid of the deputy?
Garrett waved and left.
“What was that about?” Thayne asked.
“Nothing,” she retorted and flung a wad of paper into an open trash bag. Head down, she rearranged the packed jars. If he could only see her eyes, he might be able to read more emotions than the frustration her gestures screamed.
“If you’ll bring your car around, I’ll load.”
She nodded and picked up her purse. “Thanks.”
He took hold of a filled crate and paused as she wrapped a hand around her talisman, eyes closed, breathing deeply. She relied on the black amber. Was it right for him to take it from her? “You seem upset. Do you want to tell—”
Her eyes flashed open, blue irises rimmed in vivid green. “No. I don’t.” She snatched keys from her purse and marched out.
He followed at a distance, watching her strong stride, wondering what troubled this beautiful young woman.
When they made their last trip to her trunk, she faced him. “Thanks for helping.”
“My offer for dinner’s still good, if you’d like to go.”
She surveyed him with those beautiful, dangerous eyes, and he tightened his chest to keep frost from coating his skin.
Thayne tensed and blurted out the thought that’d plagued him for several minutes. “Or was what you told that deputy just a way to get rid of him?”
She looked away. “It was. At the time. And that makes me feel bad to use you. I’d like to go with you to dinner.”
Thayne blurted, “Great. Where would you like to go? The steakhouse?”
“No. Some place simple where I can relax. It’s been a hard day.”
“Mama’s Pizzeria?”
She nodded. “Things at the market didn’t get better after you left. I spent my afternoon looking at my ledger. Didn’t break even for the cost of materials and booth rental.”
“Not fun. Let’s both go to your house, then I’ll drive from there. I don’t want you going home in the dark after what happened this morning with the bats.”
“Good idea.” She shivered. “I’ll wait here until you’re behind me. I’m still concerned about possible damage to the car.”
Thayne hurried to White Eagle, who waited in the back of the lot, and hopped in. “We’re taking the lady out to dinner. Follow her home, keeping close, and watch for Raclaw.”
“Yes, my King.” White Eagle revved his engine. “Have you revealed your identity to her?”
“Not my plan.”
“Then may I suggest you take a turn at driving now, so you appear to be in control with our guest.”
“Good idea.” Thayne handled the steering wheel and shift lever, positioning his feet on the pedals.
White Eagle relinquished control over his actions to Thayne, who fumbled with the rhythm between shifter and clutch but managed to pull up behind Esmeralda’s Airflow.
She wove swiftly around other vendors’ cars, while Thayne white-knuckled the wheel along the obstacle course. On the road he shifted more smoothly and relaxed back into the seat. “It’s been a while. I’m rusty.”
“Better you than my fenders.” The sentry laughed over the hum of his engine.
Thayne scanned the roadsides. Well before the gloaming hour, he didn’t expect major strikes from the Autumn Court, which preferred the shroud of darkness. Although she’d been attacked at sunset and sunrise, proving Raclaw’s desperation. And even in bright daylight, the threat of single autumn fae could present some danger from those capable of shapeshifting into badgers or bobcats.
A few turns later, Thayne shifted smoothly as he pulled into Esmeralda’s driveway behind her car.
He helped unload her market wares. Each time he approached the cabin, the holly berries nodded and jingled their hellos. Inside, a familiar sensation swept over him with the herbal scents, strong with lavender, the layout of the interior, and colors of the furnishings. But something stronger triggered his distant memory. Vibrations of Grammy Flora remained in the cabin. He remembered her cinnamon rolls and smiled. At least fifty years ago, he was among the fae children she tempted with that special treat. Freshly baked and presented on a tray, it was blissful sweet unmatched by the best of the Winter Court’ pastries. Grammy would peek around the corner and giggle at him and his intoxicated friends. Thayne smiled to himself. Happy times from long ago, before his father saddled him with leadership training.
With Esmeralda’s market supplies put away, he walked her to White Eagle and opened the passenger door for her.
When he took his seat, she smoothed the skirt of her cotton dress and said, “I feel strange going out for pizza dressed in these old-style clothes.”
“Around here with artists, tourists, and witches, it doesn’t matter how we’re dressed. All are welcome.” That was one thing about the locale surrounding Bentbone Thayne especially liked, because it gave him more freedom to explore than other towns. Freedom for fae had been why both Winter and Summer courts maintained regional headquarters there for millennia.
“You seem familiar with the area. Where do you live?” she asked that question again.
No avoiding it, he framed his words carefully. Faeries weren’t capable of outright lying, but could hide information with clever semantics. “I live in the woods on the outer edge of the coven.” Question answered, he redirected the conversation away from him. “What was that all about with the deputy? Something seemed to bother you.”
“Um. It’s complicated.” She hesitated. “I witnessed a potential crime, but after reporting it, I don’t know who to trust. He pressed too hard and made me suspicious.”
“Are you frightened?”
“Yes, a little.” Her hand fluttered with a dismissive gesture. “Anyway, you must have a good job to afford this car. What do you do?”
Thayne swallowed. A harder question. However, he didn’t want to pursue what might be scaring her, much as he wanted to know so he could help her. She didn’t seem comfortable discussing the incident. Not surprising considering the heinous nature of the crime. He’d have his scouts dig up information from the sheriff’s office and double up protection on her home. For now, he needed to take charge of the conversation in order to keep his identity secret. “I run a family business out of my home. It does well.” A reasonable answer that still kept to the truth, since many of his faeries, disguised by glamours, worked in the town of Bentbone and paid a share of their wages to the Court. All the winter fae paid something, whether in mortals' money, goods, or services. “You seem new to being a
hedge witch, What’ve you worked at before?”
She explained how her college training in botany had led to a bioresearch position, things beyond Thayne’s knowledge of the human world. An active listener, he encouraged her to talk and feel safe. He sank comfortably into his seat, in control of the conversation and capable of creating the illusion of driving.
He parked along the street around the corner from the pizza place and scurried around White Eagle’s grill to open Esmeralda’s door.
She talked about how she intended to conduct research here on plants her grandmother had established. After eyeing the surrounding walkers, she leaned close and whispered, “I’m super excited to study the holly bushes. Did you know the berries talk?”
“I’ve heard that. A fascinating topic.” The oddity of her excitement over something so commonplace made him smile. He opened the restaurant’s door and caught the attention of the hostess, one of his own winter fae, Marzanna.
Zesty in nature, she used a vivacious glamour with flowing dark hair and curvaceous figure which further suited her people-friendly job. She waved, snatched two menus, and swung toward them while dropping bits of chit-chat to those she passed. At the hostess stand, her face lit and she suppressed a curtsy. “Welcome back. I have a nice corner booth. Will that be good?”
“Yes.” Thayne nodded, and Marzanna wove deftly between tables covered in red and white checkered cloths.
Thayne guided Esmeralda with a slight touch of his hand on the small of her back. He couldn’t resist a brief moment of contact, a mere taste of her essence, so quick no mortal could register. He didn’t dare allow himself to fully touch her, in case she had some level of Sight. Maintaining his identity was essential for him to control this meeting and get her witch’s amber. The brush of his hand along that graceful curve, even through the bulky cardigan she wore over her dress, elicited the most delicious icy hot sensation that zipped across his skin. Exactly as he’d hoped to find from what he’d sensed in her eyes and from the power in her witch’s amber.
Coon Hollow Coven Tales 1-3 Page 74