“Goblin Trinate?”
“All goblins are dangerous, but the one that shot you was the most dangerous type of all. Similar to the fae, there are many varieties of goblins. From an evolutionary standpoint, they are presumed to be cousins of the fae, actually. But only one type of goblin uses a bow and arrow like this. These goblins are organized and humanoid. You might think of them as the goblin equivalent of the mafia. They call themselves the Goblin Trinate, and—this is the important part, Grateful—they have a reputation as mercenaries.”
“You think someone hired them to kill me?”
“I don’t know. I’m simply saying it’s possible. The more likely scenario is you caught the goblin in the act of doing something else, and he felt threatened by your judgment.”
I tapped my fingers near the arrow, trying to digest everything she’d said. I’d gone to Salem to judge and sentence a maleficent supernatural being. That being had turned on me. That wasn’t surprising. It happened almost every time I patrolled my ward. But this encounter was different.
“My power faded when I tried to sentence him to the hellmouth. Nightshade just fizzled.”
Polina looked at me out the corner of her eye. “Was your blade touching goblin blood? The blood has anti-magical properties, which is why it’s poisonous to witches.”
“I don’t think so, but there was so much glass and spilled liquor. Maybe.”
“There had to be blood. Hecates like us have power over all supernatural beings.”
I tried to remember for sure, but I couldn’t. “There was something else. The goblin’s name was Tobias. I know this because his sister showed up as I was dying in the street. She congratulated him on killing me and said there would be much celebration among their kind.”
This time Polina grabbed a cookie from the tin. “That sounds premeditated,” she said nervously before stuffing it into her mouth.
“My thoughts exactly.” I rolled the base of the fletching between my fingers, the feathers revolving between us. “Maybe this is a clue. What does the symbol mean, anyway? Have they always used it? Or is this a calling card from the one who hired them? Is the symbol about me—an arrow with my name on it, so to speak?” I popped a cookie in my mouth and then another, hoping the sugar and fat would numb the anxiety snowballing within me.
“I’m not sure. Trinate means ‘group of three,’ so the symbol is apropos for their organization. It could be a coincidence, or maybe it’s a form of goddess worship. I actually wish Fang Face had stayed. Julius has been around long enough to know for sure. I’m at a loss. My ward is rural. We have massive troll problems but no goblins.”
“If they weren’t working for someone else, why might the Goblin Trinate want me dead?”
Polina leaned against the counter, toying with the ends of her wild red hair. “I’m not sure, but no scenario I can think of bodes well for you.”
“That’s comforting.” The teapot whistled. I turned the burner off and added the tea bags. “Just for kicks and giggles, what scenarios can you think of?”
“Scenario one is that the goblins are making a power play for control of your new ward. With Tabetha so recently dead, they probably thought you were an easy target. No witch means no judgment.”
I nod. “Very possible. If it’s true, it’s a good thing they believe I’m dead. What else?”
She spread her hands and shrugged. “Before you killed Tabetha, Hecate gave you permission to kill her, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, you probably weren’t the only one. If word was out that Salem’s witch was on Hecate’s hit list, maybe you were a case of mistaken identity.”
“They mistook me for Tabetha because I am now the witch of Salem.”
“Right.”
“Wouldn’t they know what she looked like?”
“Not necessarily. I’ve never seen a goblin in person. I can’t imagine they kept close company with Tabetha.”
I dug two mugs out of the cupboard and poured us both a cup of tea. “So… what’s scenario three?”
She brought the mug to her lips and took a long sip. “I think we should consider the possibility that Mother wants you dead.”
I swallowed down the wrong pipe and burst into a fit of coughing. When I’d finally managed to cough up the wayward tea, I asked, “Why?” But I knew why. I wasn’t supposed to accept Tabetha’s grimoire. I wasn’t supposed to have power over two elements.
“You know why. It’s because you took Tabetha’s grimoire,” Polina confirmed. “The question is why she would be so indirect about it. Why doesn’t she just smite you from the earth?”
Without any explanation for not being smote, I had no choice but to shove three more cookies into my mouth and shrug.
Polina sighed. “If she wanted you dead, you’d be dead. Which means that particular scenario probably is not true.”
I’d raised my mug to wash down the cookies when Rick appeared beside Polina. He lifted the arrow between his fingers, staring at the symbol.
“Do you recognize that, Rick?”
“No,” he said. “But it seems familiar to me, like I used to, a long time ago.”
“I had the same reaction.”
“It is said that her symbol is stamped upon the hearts of her progeny,” Polina said.
Rick returned the arrow to the counter. “You are lucky to be alive.”
I furrowed my brow, curious about something. “Polina, you said that Poe found Hildegard and Hildegard found you and that’s how you knew to help me, but Poe couldn’t have made it to Vermont in his condition. How did it happen?”
She sighed. “I was already on my way to you, although I had no idea it was you. I saw your death in my mirror.”
“You have one too?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Who do you think made yours?”
“Rick told me I conjured it in a past life.”
Polina chuckled, holding her stomach. “Conjured it from where? Only a metal witch could make such a thing. I told you we were friends before. It was a gift.”
“And you have one too?”
“I have several. A smaller one I keep with me at all times and a more powerful one at my home, too big to move. It works the same way.”
I scratched behind my ear, the dried blood in my hair flaking under my fingertips. I desperately needed a shower. “Polina…” I said, distracted by the way the light broke through the window and illuminated Rick’s muscled physique. I was still hungry, and today had been a breakthrough. I turned back to her so I could concentrate. “Did you see the goblin in your mirror? Is that why you came?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize it was you. Your human status confused me.”
Crap. I was right about the mirror. Something was off with Rick and me beyond his memory. It might’ve been my need for blood, but I had a sinking feeling in my gut it could be more.
Polina rubbed her hands together. “You know, Grateful, there’s only one way to find out for sure why the goblins tried to kill you today.”
I squinted one eye and scowled. “You’re not suggesting…”
“We go over and confront Mother. Not directly, of course.” Polina coiled her hair around one finger.
“We can’t ask her. Mother hates questions.”
“No. We don’t ask. We tell. And we see how she responds. I’ll go with you for support. If both of us are there, we can play it off as concern over a possible goblin coup rather than her presumed murderous tendencies.”
I crinkled my nose. “I don’t like this. Facing the goddess was not on my to-do list today.”
Polina laughed so hard she snorted. “Mine either. In fact, I’ve got to get home and check on my ward. Tonight? At midnight? We can go over from your attic.”
I nodded. “I can’t thank you enough. For everything.”
“I owe you.” She winked. “See you tonight.”
I gave her a quick hug. She reached into her bag for a pinch of gold dust and sprinkled it over
her head. Her body twisted and disappeared into the faucet.
“Her method of travel disturbs me,” Rick said from beside me. He frowned at the kitchen sink and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I’m not crazy about it either.” I fidgeted as an awkward silence descended between us. “Thank you for your blood. You saved my life.”
“What sort of man would I be if I did not help a woman in distress? I don’t remember you, or this time, but I know who I am.”
Okay. That didn’t bolster my hope of continuing where we left off. It sounded like he would have done it for anyone, not just me. I bit my lip, disappointed I’d misread his signals. “Rick, about what happened earlier…” He blushed crimson and I changed my angle. “Would you like to go on a real date?” I blew out a deep breath. “You don’t remember me but, maybe, you could get to know me.”
The corner of Rick’s mouth lifted and the twinkle returned to his gray eyes. “I would enjoy that, ever much, Grateful.”
“Still Grateful, huh?”
“What else would I call you?”
“Before, you used to call me, mi cielo.”
“My sky.” He laughed. “My grandmother used to call me that. I must have loved you very much.”
I glanced down at the floor. “You did. Just as I loved you.” My voice came out hardly a whisper. I’d shared stories with Rick before, tried to explain how things were between us, but this was the most receptive he’d ever been.
His shadow passed over me, and I looked up to find him close enough to touch. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow as he searched my face. “It’s been overwhelming.”
“I understand.”
He licked his lips. “But I haven’t been fair to you. You need more of me than you’ve let on before today.”
“I didn’t want to pressure you.”
“I am not a man to shirk my responsibilities.”
“I want to be more to you than a responsibility,” I said under my breath.
He rested his hands on my shoulders, sending a wave of anticipatory heat through me. My body hungered for him. Rick inhaled slowly, nostrils flaring. He felt it too. This thing between us was alive and utterly undeniable. His mind may not know me, but his body did.
“I want to try. I want to learn who you are. If I am what you say I am, I want to work to get my memories back. I want to be what you need me to be.”
“How could you not be?” I asked, cupping his face. The draw between us was powerful, like two magnets only held apart by force of will. I leaned in, intending to kiss him and was surprised when he pushed me away.
“Grateful, let’s do this the right way. We’ve been through too much to ruin something that hasn’t had a chance to start.”
I cleared my throat and forced myself to take a step back. “I, er, sure.” I looked at my watch awkwardly. “F—” I halted my curse at the look on Rick’s face. In 1698, proper women did not curse like sailors. “I’m late for work.”
Rushing from the kitchen, I gathered Nightshade from the bedroom. I was about to exit through the front door when he called to me.
“When is our date?” Rick asked.
I smiled. “Tomorrow. Noon. I’ll take you on a picnic.” I left, remembering my first date with Rick, a picnic on Monk’s Hill that had ended in lovemaking. I hoped tomorrow would end in precisely the same way.
Chapter 6
Wine O’Clock
Twelve hours later, I shouldered my front door open, finished working the hospital shift from hell. I didn’t close the door behind me. The stench in my house was stifling, and I needed the fresh air. My entire place reeked of roses, Tabetha’s roses. The witch was exacting her revenge by way of a vine of red blooms eternally coiling around my banister. I’d succeeded in containing the roses to the stairwell, but no matter what spells I tried from either of my magical grimoires, I could not keep the flowers from growing or blooming.
I tossed my keys toward the kitchen island from the foyer. They didn’t make it. With a clang, they hit the wood floor. No way was I bending down to pick them up. I hit the couch. Face first. In my scrubs. And started blubbering like a kid who dropped their ice cream cone.
With my head buried in a floral pillow, I heard rather than saw Poe fly down the stairwell and land on the sofa arm.
“Who died?” he asked sarcastically.
Asshole. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “My father.”
Poe gasped in disbelief. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Dad is fine. But it serves you right for being so sarcastic about my emotional breakdown. What if it was serious?”
“But it’s not, is it?” He rolled his black eyes. “That was not funny! I’ve grown quite fond of your dear old dad. We live in dangerous times. You shouldn’t joke about such things.”
“Bite me.” I buried my face in the pillow again.
“What has your undies in a bunch?”
I sat up and rested my feet on the coffee table. “Not only do I have to face my mother tonight, a woman who happens to be a vengeful goddess responsible for at least one witch’s death, but I have not slept or eaten a decent meal in over twenty-four hours. On top of that quagmire, I was written up today and threatened with dismissal for being late. You know why I was late? Because I was poisoned by a goblin and almost bled to death. A girl has to take a shower after that, Poe.”
“You could be fired?” Poe fluffed his feathers in alarm.
“Yes, and if I am, I can’t take care of you in the manner you’ve grown accustomed. Sure, the house is paid for, but there is the problem of food and heat. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if I’d married Rick as planned. He had quite the nest egg. But as that plan is on permanent hiatus, I need this job. Only, I can’t take a night off because Rick can’t shift or do magic to defend the ward.” I ran out of breath near the end of my tirade and had to take a long and noisy inhale. Once oxygen was accounted for, I banged my head against the arm of the sofa.
“Special delivery!” I looked toward the open door to see Logan staring openmouthed at my headbanging. The Valentine burger I’d ordered on the way home was in a brown paper bag in his hands.
“Why do you look like someone just died?” he asked.
“It was her father,” Poe said without hesitation.
All the blood drained from Logan’s face, and he dropped the bag.
“Poe is being an asshole. My father is alive and well. I’m upset because I almost got fired today.”
“And she almost died last night,” Poe added.
I waved my hand in the air. “That too. Near death, bloody battle, blah, blah, blah. You’ve heard it all before.” I stood and retrieved my dinner from the floor. “Thanks for bringing this. You have no idea the fucking day I’ve had.”
“Geesh, language, Grateful. There are ravens who act like children in the room.” Logan shot Poe an angry glance. “Now, tell Uncle Logan what happened.”
I kicked the door closed behind him. “Okay. Come in. Sit down. I gotta eat, and we are definitely going to need wine for this.”
* * * * *
Two bottles later, Logan stared across the table at me in speechless pity. “What are you going to do?” he asked in a stage whisper, as if Hecate was in the next room. “What if it is the goddess? How do you defend yourself against a goddess?”
“I don’t know.” I rested my cheek on the table. The wood was blissfully cool, and I contemplated taking a nap, despite the awkward position. “What if it’s not her and I have a group of deadly goblins after me for their own reasons? Let me tell you, the asshat with the bow and arrow was very hard to kill. I don’t know, maybe I was just weak from lack of Rick, but it was like my magic fizzled in his presence. I’ve never had that happen.”
“If it was goblin magic and not the absence of Tall, Dark, and Brooding, maybe Soleil can shed some light on the subject for you. She’s been around for a while.”
I laughed once, then again, and then the laughs kept coming un
til I sounded like a machine gun. “Shed some light,” I said, resting my forehead on my fists. “You said a celestial fae who bleeds sunlight could ‘shed some light’ on the subject.”
Logan looked at me with a straight face. “You are slaphappy.”
I was about to agree when there was a knock at the door. With a groan, I lifted my head and pushed off the table to drag my aching limbs to the door. Polina stood under my porch light in a fitted blue gown that reminded me of Cinderella’s. Her red hair was tied up in a neat chignon. She even held a magic wand with a gigantic crystal on the end in her right hand.
“You look like a princess,” I said.
“You look like someone died.” She scanned my dirty scrubs.
I frowned and opened the door wider. “No one died. Just a terrible day and not getting any better.”
“You’ll have to invite me in. Your protective ward is making me itch even from here.”
“Polina, I invite you into my home,” I said, relieved the spells I kept on the house were working as planned, even in my weakened state.
She smiled and stepped over the threshold. “That’s better.”
The large leather satchel hanging from her shoulder looked weighted down, like she had something heavy inside. “Did you bring a bowling ball to sacrifice?” I chuckled, feeling quite witty.
Polina didn’t laugh. In fact, she seemed distracted. I followed her line of sight directly to Logan, whose expression could also be described as distracted. “Oh, sorry, I’m being rude,” I said. “Polina, this is my good friend Logan. Logan, this is Polina. She’s a metal witch who has been helping me.”
No one moved a muscle. I glanced between them, wondering what I’d missed. Both looked positively pallid.
“Do you two know each other or something?” I asked.
Polina cleared her throat and shook her head. A blush stained her cheeks on either side of a slight smile. “No. Um, Logan, it’s very nice to meet you.” She took a step and extended her hand.
Logan wrapped his fingers around hers and pumped her arm dumbly before giving his own head a shake. He thumped his noggin a few times with the heel of his hand. “Sorry. You do seem familiar to me. Do you ever come into Valentine’s?”
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