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

by S. M. Blooding

Tuck shook out his hair, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Okay. So, why are we keeping…” He changed the pitch of his tone. “…Rainbow Blu?”

  That poor woman and that ridiculous name. “Because she’s a damn good detective.”

  “And what is she?”

  “A rusalka.”

  Tuck’s lips remained closed for a long moment before he spoke. “Don’t they kill people?”

  “Can you imagine anyone named Rainbow Blu killing anything?”

  He sighed. “Fine. She’s on probation, too.”

  “And her probation parameters?”

  He spread his hands, palms up. “To see if she has the maturity for the uniform.”

  “Wait. What? Uniform?”

  “The badge, then.”

  Whew. She didn’t want to tell these guys they had to wear a uniform all of a sudden, though, that idea might help Rainbow. “Okay. When my team comes back, we’ll assign cases and work our way through the pile.”

  “Good. I talked to Banes.”

  “Great.”

  Tuck gave her a look that said otherwise. “He’ll let your team assist, but they report to him.”

  Paige pushed out her lips.

  “It was either that, or you didn’t get the case at all.”

  “Of course.” It was better than she’d originally hoped anyway.

  “I also got a call from Director Lovejoy from the FBI.”

  Paige licked her lips.

  “You really do have some pull, don’t ya, kid?”

  “She was an accident. I didn’t even know we had a connection until she made it known.”

  “Whatever. She also talked to Banes and some FBI bloke is going to be assisting as well. When he comes off of personal leave.”

  Awesome. It would be good to have Jack Scott on the case with them.

  Chief Tuck looked at Paige for a long moment, his lips closed, his eyes narrowed.

  “Yes, Chief?”

  He nodded once. “I think we can really make this work.”

  She hoped so. “That’s the plan, sir.”

  He stood. “Well, carry on. Like what you did with the place, and I expect reports. Daily.”

  Crap. “You got it, Chief.”

  Leslie sidled up to Paige as Tuck walked out of the bullpen. “Who is that?”

  “My new boss.”

  Leslie’s eyes widened as did her smile. “He is smokin’ hot.”

  “You’re smokin’ married.”

  “That man’s just a menu, darlin’.” Leslie grabbed her stick and headed for the door. “He’s just a menu.”

  Paige decided to leave the new cases in her office come quitting time. Chief Tucker was right. There were a lot of cases that were unexplainable in normal circumstances.

  But to those who knew what went bump in the night? Not as much. She came up with a plan on how to handle most of them—who to assign them to, mostly. She’d also made a call to Chuck, warning him that her team was going to start doing their job and that he needed to let them.

  Of course, that had been in a message, so who knew how well that had gone over.

  Instead of heading over to the school, Paige drove past it and headed toward the Blackman’s homestead. Time to see if she could find a teacher for Leah.

  The road to the Blackman estate wasn’t well beaten. It seemed as though, maybe, cars didn’t travel down that path often. The bottom of her car ground out in one dip. Great. It’d bottom out on the way back, too.

  Bad omen?

  Maybe.

  Eventually, she slipped into a heavy tree line instead of fields. The trip seemed to take forever, but it might have had something to do with the fact she was only driving, like, five miles per hour.

  Eventually the trees broke into a wide, open space with several houses and other buildings. At least one barn and a grain silo. That was the extent of Paige’s knowledge on farm buildings.

  People worked in the fields around the homes. A girl carried a bucket, offering it to the men who worked. The women wore dresses, plain, serviceable. The men wore black pants and white shirts.

  Had Paige just driven through a time portal or something? Were the Blackmans really Puritan? Because it certainly looked that way.

  She pulled up in front of the house with the round-about in front of it, wondering if this was a good idea. Her ancestors had warned her against this, but…

  She didn’t have the luxury of overlooking a possible ally and this was one way of extending the olive branch. She put the car in park and got out.

  Derrick walked toward her from one of the fields. “Fields” might have been the wrong word. It was the size of a large lawn, but filled with lots of produce. Different kinds, she thought but wasn’t sure. She couldn’t tell the difference between carrots and cilantro when they were in ground.

  She waited for him, leaning against the passenger side door, her thumbs hooked in her pockets. Her car was made of plastic, so sitting on the hood, or even leaning against it, could dent the thing. While she wasn’t a car aficionado, Dexx was and he would notice.

  Derrick took a handkerchief from his back pocket, removed his wide-brimmed hat, and wiped the sweat from his brow.

  Paige winced. It wasn’t hot, but she wasn’t working out there. This was not the kind of life she’d chosen to live. “Derrick,” she said by way of greeting when got to within earshot.

  He raised his chin, putting his hat back on. “Did you enjoy our gifts?”

  She hadn’t had much of an opportunity to even see them. Alma had taken care of them with great efficiency. “They were lovely, thank you. The plants have all been planted and Grandma rooted them.” Magickally. As the kitchen witch, that was her gift, making things grow. “They’re really taking off.”

  He raised his eyebrows, which was a little hard to tell under the brim of his black hat. “She is a green witch, then.”

  Paige nodded. “The books and other things, admittedly, have disappeared. I can only assume that Grandma found a place for them.”

  He frowned. “Aren’t you the matriarch?”

  “I’ve been a little busy trying to get set up in town.”

  “Oh.” Surprise furrowed his face. “What did you work out?”

  She didn’t want to tell him, but she had no reason to hide it from him, either. “I’m captain of the Red Star Division of the Troutdale Police Department. I’ll be overseeing cases involving the paranormal community.”

  He lowered his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes. “Oh, well, that will be very handy.”

  He didn’t seem pleased. “I’ll be handling each case as they should be handled. Justly.”

  He smiled tightly at her, his eyes narrowed. “That is what I meant. There are too many cases that go unsolved. That is all I meant.”

  His non-verbals said he spoke the truth. Well, didn’t she feel like an ass. “Good. I just have to make sure you don’t think anyone here will get preferential treatment or anything.”

  “Why?” He tipped his head to the side, his smile loosening up a little. “Because we’re family?”

  Ugh. That. She didn’t want to get to know her brothers. It wasn’t that she thought they were necessarily bad people. She just didn’t want to get to know them. She didn’t know why. “Yeah. And you’re fellow witches.”

  “Who you don’t know.”

  “Right.” There was that. “But we will be getting to know one another.”

  “So you’re staying.”

  When they’d moved to Oregon, they’d had no intention of moving again. Moving sucked. The uncertainty, the packing—which was the easy part—the moving, the driving, the settling into a new place? She hated it. Hated every part of it.

  However, they hadn’t realized just how hard it would be to stay. The Blackmans, though, had.

  “Yes,” she said with a smile. “We are.”

  Derrick bowed his head. “Didn’t realize just how formidable Merry was, did you?”

  “Honestly?” And she needed to be honest and mor
al and true with these guys. “No. I just thought, okay, yeah. Scary, but far away and the kind of shit she does only works in Hollywood.”

  “Well, Hollywood and here.” Derrick licked his lips and stepped back, gesturing with his hand. “Come. Mother would love to speak with you, I’m sure, and your other brothers would like to meet you.”

  Probably about as much as she wanted to meet them, which meant, not at all. She bit down on her tongue—literally—and walked where he directed. “When was the last time anyone drove a car on your driveway?”

  “We park our cars elsewhere and either walk or ride a horse in.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You’re serious?”

  “We believe in keeping the pollutants off of our land.”

  “Well—” Whoops. “—next time, post a sign to warn people from ‘polluting your lands.’”

  He grinned. “Next time, we will have someone waiting for you to bring you and your family in.”

  Whoa. Her and her family? That was a rather high-handed invitation. “Let’s talk first.”

  “Of course.” He walked up the steps of the house she’d parked in front of and opened the remarkably quiet screen door.

  Paige stared at it in wonder on her way in. Old, rickety screen door, not a sound. Interesting.

  The wards of the threshold fluttered around her. It felt like walking through a slight mist. Where had their wards been around their lands? She hadn’t felt a thing.

  She stepped into a large sitting room with lots of old, but comfortable looking chairs. No sofas or loveseats. So, designed so no one would sit next to one another? That was creepy. Right?

  “Please sit.”

  Paige tried her best to push away her nervousness, but failed. She didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to talk to these witches, didn’t want them teaching her daughter.

  Why? Because she’d been informed they had sided with Merry? Because her ancestors—whom she’d just met—said they were bad people?

  Because they’d kidnapped her sister, her niece, and her daughter?

  Probably.

  She needed to see if she could put the bad blood to rest because, like it or not, the Blackmans were almost literally in her backyard.

  She looked around, trying to see what she could learn of this family. No family photos. Nothing really personal, even. This was the place where they met with outsiders.

  Was that something she’d have to do, too?

  No. Outsiders wouldn’t be welcome in her home without an invitation. She couldn’t afford to risk it.

  Which reminded her. There were people she needed to check in with. Roxxie, for one. She’d barely said boo to the angel after accepting her protection at the school. And Balnore, whom she hadn’t spoken to since saving her family from the Blackmans in Texas.

  Only a few months ago, but it seemed like forever ago.

  Last she’d heard, he’d been here, in Portland, watching something. That had been all the information she’d gleaned from him.

  But she was here and she was pretty sure he probably knew about it.

  Maybe he was busy.

  With what? That thought bothered her. She’d been so focused on shapeshifters and treaties that she wasn’t paying any attention to the demon population. What was Sven doing? What were the demons doing?

  She’d had to back off because of Bobby.

  But…she couldn’t overlook the fact that her job was to oversee the demons and their workings.

  No. Her job was to protect her family. Her gift was summoning demons. She’d decided to watch over them and keep an eye on their workings. That didn’t mean she had to.

  “Paige,” a female voice said.

  Paige turned. Eldora Blackman stood in the doorway leading from the back of the house. She wore a black dress, less form-fitting than her business suit had been, but still less Amish than the other women Paige had seen outside. Creepy? Or…cool?

  She was edging closer to creepy.

  Paige met the matriarch in the middle, extending her hand. “Eldora.”

  “It is a pleasure to see you again.” She tucked her skirt to her and sat. “Please, sit.”

  Paige chose a chair close to the older woman.

  “Tea? Coffee?”

  “I’m fine.” She really just wanted to get this over with and get out. Shit! Barn would be at their house. Crap. One more thing she needed to deal with. Fuck. “I just wanted to stop by.”

  “See how close we were, our operation?”

  Paige chuckled. “Yes. I’ll be blunt.” Because she wasn’t really great at being tactful. “You were, and still are, an ally to the Eastwoods.”

  Eldora pinched her lips closed.

  “And you’re in our backyard.”

  “I see your point.” Her tone ended on a high note as if there was a slight question. “We must maintain appearances.”

  “You mean, you must back the winning horse and until you figure out who that is, you’re not really going to pick a side.”

  Eldora closed her eyes for a long moment, her lips closed primly.

  “I get it. I understand. Don’t think I don’t.”

  Opening her eyes, Eldora tipped her head to the side. “What is your plan?”

  Plan? Like she had one of those. “Work with the local community. Try to get it back on its feet.”

  “And when Merry moves to strike?”

  “Then, we strike back.”

  “Shouldn’t you make the first move?”

  And have that on her conscience? No, thank you. “We did that by moving here.”

  “And by breaking the treaty.”

  Paige chuckled, the tension loosening a little, though, why when things were getting more stressful, she didn’t know. “Merry broke that treaty over and over again over the years, and yet, no one did a thing. You know why?”

  Eldora sighed. “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

  “Because everyone lives in fear of that woman.”

  “You are too young to understand—”

  Blessed Mother, Paige hated that phrase.

  “—the sacrifices we’ve had to make.”

  “To bow down to that woman? To let a bully run ram shod right over you?”

  Eldora met Paige’s gaze. “Yes. Those are the sacrifices we chose to make.”

  “Well.” That made a lot of things simpler in her mind. They would not help protect her daughter against the Eastwoods. They weren’t good allies. They would fold as soon as things got tough. So, nope. As far as she was concerned, she was done there.

  Eldora narrowed her gaze. “Your daughter. You came here because of your daughter.”

  That old bird seemed to catch on to the fact that Paige had already made up her mind, so Paige wasn’t going to play. “Originally, yes.”

  “She requires instruction on how to use her gift.”

  A gift Eldora had seen the night she’d kidnapped Leah. “Yes.”

  “And you’re struggling to do so because you, yourself, need instruction on how to utilize your own Blackman magick.”

  Paige was just looking for an opening to close the conversation and leave. “I’ll figure it out.”

  Eldora raised her chin, lowering her gaze for a moment. “Do you even know what this magick is?”

  Yes. She’d read Lovejoy’s files. But Lovejoy wasn’t a witch and Paige wanted confirmation.

  “Death magick.”

  Confirmed.

  “The black ooze, as I’m sure you’ve called it. All initiates do. That’s death.”

  So, her witch hands were death reaching out to demons? That didn’t even make sense.

  Except…with those hands, she’d been able to open a gate to Hell, the underworld, where the dead went, supposedly. And Leah was able to open a portal to the other side and pull souls of dead people—which, how did that work with reincarnation? Was that proof that it didn’t happen? Were there souls she wouldn’t be able to pull through?

  So many questions.


  Completely wrong time to ask them.

  “It’s not evil, if that’s what you’re asking yourself.”

  It wasn’t.

  “You can use it to give life, actually. That’s how our fields are so green and plentiful.”

  Give life? Now, that might be interesting to learn. But…in order to give life, they’d have to take it from somewhere.

  “Death magick, our magick, should never be confused for Merry’s blood magick.”

  How was it that there were three primary witch families, and two of them were dark?

  Eldora’s lips loosened minutely in a small smile as she watched Paige’s expression.

  What was she reading that she liked? Did she think Paige was changing her mind, relenting?

  Because she wasn’t.

  “Merry’s magick destroys living matter—vegetation—for miles around her kill sites.”

  Really. That wasn’t something they’d discovered yet. With that information, she would be able to find Merry’s kill sites.

  Blood magick did that?

  Eldora’s face lit into a real smile. “That’s what happened after she bled the life from my daughter, Shelia. You can thank us for that.”

  The level of pride the woman felt. For sacrificing her own daughter to a tyrant?

  It didn’t matter what Eldora could teach her. It didn’t matter that Paige somehow had the ability to give life, which might come in handy. She was preparing to send her team into some dangerous situations.

  But at what cost? You couldn’t just pull life out of nowhere. And her magick was death, which meant she’d have to bring someone else closer to death to give another person life. No.

  “I can have Derrick teach you. He seems to have taken a shining to his little sister.”

  That didn’t sound creepy at all, but with all of her feelings aside, it would be a good idea for her to at least know how her magick worked. “I’ll set up a space for us to work.”

  Eldora winced in her smile as she ducked her head. “Instruction will only occur here.”

  There it was. The trap door. Paige smiled at the older woman and held her gaze. “No.”

  “Do you want to learn or not.”

  “I’d rather discover it on my own.”

  “You will remain weaker for it.”

  “Really?” Paige stood. “I’ve been doing all right so far.”