Witches of the West - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel)

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Witches of the West - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) Page 4

by S. M. Blooding


  He gripped her hand tightly and raised a dark brow. “You. Don’t you think?”

  Paige was still reeling by the time she made it back to Jackie.

  Dexx looked up from his phone, a look of surprise on his own face. “What happened to you?”

  “What happened to you?” A feeling of dread worked its way into her. What if they couldn’t get jobs there? They’d just moved, using all their savings to do so. Where would they go? What would they do? How would they come up with the money to relocate? Again.

  “Someone just leased the space out from under me. And the realtor said no one in the city would work with me.”

  Truth be told, that might not have been a bad thing. Having his business located right in the Eastwood’s territory? “Huh.”

  He nodded once, returning his attention back to his phone. “You?”

  She stared at the shaded concrete wall of the parking garage. “I don’t have a job.”

  “What?” His head whipped toward her. “What?”

  “He said he couldn’t afford to have me on his team as a Whiskey. There are no shifters, no paranormals, and no witches in his unit and he needs to keep it that way.”

  Dexx paused, his green eyes blank. “Shit.”

  “Yeah.” Paige’s phone whistled, letting her know she had a text message. Leslie. Coffee shop. Here’s the address. The next message showed where to go.

  “What are we going to do?” Dexx asked.

  Paige raised her phone. “Have coffee with Leslie.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  She really didn’t have an answer for him. “I know.” She tapped the address link and pulled up Google Maps. The phone spoke, giving Dexx directions.

  “We have kids to feed,” he said after a while.

  “I know.” Paige watched the changing metro scape. Older brick buildings faded into newer, taller buildings, then faded into warehouses. Boats—lots of boats and barges, or at least, she thought they might be barges—sat docked, waiting. So much water. She hadn’t realized what it meant to be at the mouth of a river this big. She’d seen rivers in Texas. Texas had rivers. Not those dinky little things Colorado called rivers. But nothing like this.

  Fact of the matter, she wanted to stay in Oregon. She hadn’t been there long, but it felt good. There was a completely different feel as soon as they’d crossed the state line from Idaho. It felt like she’d been welcomed back home.

  To a place she’d never been before.

  She couldn’t ignore the overwhelming peace that filled her at the thought of staying.

  Or the bone-chilling fear of not being able to care for her children.

  “You know,” she said into the quiet as the buildings grew taller again as they headed into downtown Portland. “I don’t think I ever really thanked you for staying and helping with Bobby and Leah.”

  He shook his head and shrugged.

  “Things haven’t been great between us.” And it hadn’t. They were going through the steps of a much older relationship, not going through the courtship of a new one, not like they should. No dinners out. No romantic evenings. No dates. Just kids and poopy diapers and UNO.

  “They’ll get better here,” he said brightly, though his expression was numb.

  Was it wrong of her that she felt comfort in the fact that he was just as poleaxed as she was? “If we can stay.”

  He glanced at her, his expression relaxing with relief.

  This was stupid. This was all just stupid. “I bet this was Merry.”

  “Me, too.”

  Anger rolled in like a mist, pushing the fear and numbness away. “She has to know I’m here. I set off her wards. She had to have seen that, felt it.”

  He nodded. “What do we do about it?”

  “Well…” What would she tell herself? “We can start by not overreacting.”

  He straightened in his seat, stopping at the light. “Right.”

  “There are other locations for your office, other places I can apply for work.”

  “And she can’t control the entire city.”

  “Exactly.”

  “She’s just one woman.”

  “Yeah. One powerful, rich woman who also happens to be a witch.”

  He gave her a mocking look, his lip curled up, his brow furrowed. “Right? We have a whole house full of witches.”

  “And a whole pack of shifters practically in our backyard.”

  “Exactly. So…” He let his voice trail off as Lola told him where to turn. “Siding with the shifters might not be a bad idea?”

  “We chose to ‘side with them’ before we even left Texas. Hell, we chose that before we left Colorado, if we’re being honest.”

  “Yeah? So? What’s the hold-up?”

  She took in a deep breath, looking for the coffee shop on the right-hand side like Lola directed. “I don’t want to be owned.”

  “Yeah.” Dexx quirked his lips and pulled into a parking garage. “Yeah.”

  She tipped her head at him. “I am a horrible girlfriend.”

  “I’m not going to say otherwise.” He smiled at her as he turned sharply to continue to go down. “Why this time?”

  “I haven’t once asked how you’re handling all this.” She turned the navigation off as Lola went batshit crazy, telling them to turn around and make U-turns to get back onto the road. “How are you doing with the pack? How are you doing with your shift?”

  “Because you don’t want me to kill you or the kids?”

  “Mostly, yeah. How are you fitting in with the pack?”

  He finally found a parking place. It was a tight fit for his long, wide car, though. He put it in reverse and tried again. “Not really well.”

  “Uh-oh.” Not what she was hoping to hear. For whatever reason, she’d thought that it would just be like getting on a bike or breathing for him, getting into the pack. He’d been bitten, chosen by the animal spirits.

  “Yeah.” He sighed and looked out his window to see where he was in the lines of the parking spot. “My animal spirit likes to dominate.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” He turned off Jackie and rolled up the window, his expression frank. “Chuck thinks I’m becoming an alpha.”

  “I didn’t realize that’s something you’d just—I don’t know. I thought you either were one or you weren’t.”

  “It’s way more complicated than that.”

  “So, are you talking to your animal spirit now?” She rolled up her window and stepped out of the car.

  “Oh, yeah.” Dexx closed the car door behind him and headed up the ramp. “She’s a real peach.”

  “So, she’s a she.” Paige followed him, looking for the elevator. She hated parking garages, but at least the car would be cooler when they got back to it.

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Cool.” If she was being honest with herself, she kinda missed her conversations with Cawli, her animal spirit. She didn’t understand why he’d gone quiet.

  “You’re not upset?”

  Paige didn’t even understand the question. “Why would I be?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I will admit I don’t always understand women.”

  “I’m not all women.”

  “No. No, you’re not.”

  Paige gestured to the sign that pointed to the elevators. “So, does she have a name?”

  He bit his bottom lip, frowning at her for a moment. “Did Cawli give you a hard time about a name?”

  “Yes.” Her animal spirit had been downright ridiculous on the whole name thing. “It took me forever to drag it out of him.”

  “Yeah. She’s the same way. So, I named her Dottie.”

  “Dottie the Saber-Toothed Cat.” Paige chuckled. “I like it.”

  He got into the elevator and pushed the button to go up. “It’s a name I’ve always liked.”

  “Where’d you get it from?”

  “Headstones.”

  “How romantic.”

  He
grinned at her, his eyes drooping with sadness. “I love going to cemeteries and reading the headstones. I like collecting their names and seeing when they lived. I make up stories about their lives.”

  “Wow.” Paige looked at him, seeing him in a new light. “I never pictured that of you.”

  He ducked his head, an embarrassed smile on his face. “Yeah, well, I don’t tell everyone.”

  “I have no idea why.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  She threw back her head and laughed, her first real laugh in a long time. “So, why Dottie?”

  “Well, that name was popular during the world wars. I always pictured each of them to be real firecrackers, you know? Ball busters.”

  Paige stepped out of the elevator. “I could see that. So, how is Dottie besides dominating?”

  He tipped his head to the side, his eyes wide. “Mostly just dominating and very opinionated.”

  “Interesting.”

  “How’s Cawli? You haven’t talked about him in a long time.” He stopped at the ticket machine and punched in some information. Probably the parking space.

  “Quiet.”

  “Oh?” He glanced at her.

  “Yeah.” Paige headed for the exit, looking forward to some real air again. “I’m a little worried.” And by a little, she meant a lot. Maybe something was wrong? Maybe he’d decided she wasn’t worthy and was going to leave her? With the door to Hell still residing inside her soul.

  “Have you talked to Chuck?”

  “No.” It still felt—why was she keeping those thoughts inside her own head? She was talking to her best damned friend on the planet. “It feels weird talking to him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…I don’t know. Because I owe him so damned much? Because he’s an alpha and it irritates me?”

  “Yeah. That. I have that every time I’m in the same room with another alpha.”

  “So, it’s not just me.”

  “No. It’s irrational, right? And weird?”

  “Really weird. I wanted to claw out Faith’s eyes the other day and all she did was hand me a glass of water. What the hell?”

  Dexx grinned. “Oh, good. I thought I was going insane.”

  Paige chuckled, relief unwinding the growing knot in her gut. “Me, too.”

  “You know what?” Dexx stopped, taking her arms in his hands.

  She looked up into his face, the bright blue sky high overhead. “Let’s keep talking.”

  “No matter how weird things get.”

  It amazed her how in sync they were even when they weren’t on the best of relationship terms. “We’re better when we’re together. Not just in the same room.”

  “Yeah.”

  Mushy, mushy. A small voice in the back of her mind made a yuck face. She laughed at herself. “Okay. If we’re done, I need caffeine to think up a new plan.”

  He hugged her to him. “Did you see the coffee shop?”

  “Nope.” She rested her head against his chest and just reveled in the warmth of his arms.

  Bad day.

  Good hug.

  Better day.

  She pulled away. “I’m kinda surprised I haven’t received a thousand texts from Leslie yet.”

  The coffee shop was right around the corner. Not Starbucks, though it did look franchised. It lacked the small-town flare.

  Leslie sat at a table, her purse on one empty chair, her feet in another, and watched her tablet, her earbuds plugged in.

  Paige didn’t interrupt her. She went to the counter instead and ordered her drink, Dexx following. With her iced black coffee in hand, she went to Leslie’s table and moved her sister’s purse. “Hey.”

  Leslie sat up and pulled out her earbuds, her expression sour. “Hey.”

  Paige frowned at Leslie’s tablet. She hadn’t even known Leslie had one. She was a little jealous. “Whatcha watchin’?”

  “Good Witch.” Leslie clawed her fingers. “I want to rip that simpering look off her face.”

  “Why are you watching it?”

  “I needed something happy.”

  “And happy made you homicidal?” Paige sat. “Only a Whiskey.”

  Dexx raised his eyebrows, his lips pushed out as he claimed his own chair. “I’m not saying a thing.”

  Leslie sat up, removing her feet from the chair. “It’s so fake. The happiness is so fake. And the magick? Don’t even get me started on that.”

  Paige had spent a few hours of her own watching the first few episodes on Netflix. She agreed.

  “Who sends a teenaged girl to school with valerian root tea to take a test?”

  Sleeping tea. Yeah. That had been one of Paige’s hang-ups, too.

  “In a ceramic mug?”

  “Not going to make it past the first episode, are you?”

  “No.” Leslie slumped back in her chair. “Maybe. Yes. Probably. It is a happy show.”

  Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re silly.”

  Leslie stuck out her tongue, continuing her sulk.

  “What has you in such a bad mood?”

  “Well.” Leslie snapped her front teeth. “I was rejected for a loan. Three times. And, because it gets better, no one will lease me any space. I talked to four realtors.”

  “You have good credit.”

  “I do. I have amazing credit. Well, except for that stupid Kohls card. Kohls.” She said the last word like a curse. “I love that store. And hate that store. But really, really love it.”

  Paige chuckled, rubbing her cheek as a stray hair irritated it. “So, why did they say no? I didn’t think they could if your credit’s good.”

  “Oh, they can and they did.”

  “Which store fronts were you looking at?”

  “A few here in Portland. Just in different neighborhoods.” Leslie shrugged deeply. “I don’t get it.”

  “Merry Eastwood.” Paige jutted her jaw to the side and shook her head, irritation blooming in her chest. “She’s making good on her threat.”

  “But Dexx has his space.”

  “No,” Dexx said, popping his lips. “I don’t.”

  Leslie stared at him incredulously. “What?”

  He raised his eyebrows, his lips flat as he shook his head.

  “What happened?”

  “Space was leased out from under me. And,” he sat up, pointing a finger to the ceiling, “no realtors in the city will work with me.”

  Leslie narrowed her eyes. “I thought you had a down payment.”

  “I did.” He tapped the table. “And they’re giving me my money back, minus a few fees.”

  “That’s crap.” Leslie looked at Paige, her eyes pinched. “But you got your job. Right?”

  Paige shook her head. “Captain doesn’t want any witches or paranormals on his team. Wants to keep it clean.”

  “But Henry got you that job.”

  “And, apparently, Captain Banes had been telling him no this entire time.”

  Leslie blinked, her lips rounded. “No.”

  “Yeah.”

  Leslie’s eyes widened as the full reality of the moment hit her. “Shit.”

  Paige expelled a breath. All three of them? The only one with a job right now was Tru, and he couldn’t carry them all. “Yeah.”

  They all three sat slumped at the table.

  Leslie looked at Paige. “What do we do?”

  Hell if she knew. She opened her mouth to speak, hoping something amazing would come out.

  Something hit her. Hard.

  Leslie sat up straight, staring out the window.

  Paige shifted to witch vision.

  A blunt arrow of red energy poised in front of Paige’s chest, a long ribbon of it winding through the window and down the street.

  Paige extended her inky witch hands to touch it.

  The red energy backed up and reformed into a hand, one finger raised. It moved from side to side, then crooked, beckoning her to follow before retreating.

  Paige switched
her witch vision off and looked at her sister.

  Leslie’s face shot with alarm as she stared at Paige. “What the—”

  So, she’d seen it, too. “Magick.”

  “Yeah.” Leslie shot to her feet, grabbing her purse and her coffee.

  Paige followed suit and led the way out the door. She didn’t know what was going on, but she wasn’t about to play blind either.

  Paige followed the energy trail to the mouth of an alley two blocks down.

  Police blocked it off. Two cop cars were parked at the entrance, blue and red lights flashing. One of the officers dug in the trunk to retrieve the police tape.

  People milled around just on the other side of the cop cars, craning their necks to see what had happened. Tourists in “I love Portland” shirts. People in business suits. People in jeans and jackets.

  Leslie stopped next to Paige. “Can you get in there?”

  Paige shook her head, running her tongue along her molars. The red energy ribbon dispersed. Why had she been led there?

  “Hey.” Leslie headed toward the building, and pointed. “What’s that?”

  Dexx frowned at them. “What are you seeing?”

  Sometimes, Paige forgot he wasn’t magickal. “Something brought us here.” She followed Leslie and turned her witch vision back on. “Red energy.”

  The physical world slipped into something a bit more ethereal. In the past three months, Paige had been working on her magick, trying to gain control of it. She was a lot more powerful than she’d ever been, and the power scared her a little.

  With that practice came the ability to see the real world through witch vision. Not shifter vision. She could see the auras, but she was still firmly in just witch vision, so Dottie, Dexx’s animal spirit, wasn’t roused. The saber-toothed cat’s head remained with Dexx’s, a bit bigger, tuffs of green energy wisping away.

  She saw the auras of everyone else as well. Leslie’s spring green and magenta aura flared with careful precision as she reached out a green hand.

  Inside the alley, however, there were no outlines of brick. No garbage dumpsters. She couldn’t even smell the latent reek of refuse, like she should have.

  White—like magick bleach—coated everything up to about the third story windows. It looked like a giant ink splat.

  Leslie knelt on the sidewalk where a splat of the white bleach magick lay just outside the alley. “What is this?” she asked quietly.

 

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