“I would! Yes, to celebrate. I’m getting married—shhh,” she said, putting her finger to her lips. She blushed. “You know, we wondered what happened to you after you left Dallas. If I’d known that all this time I could’ve driven to a bakery less than two hours away and picked up specialty cakes you’d made, I would’ve come every week. But it’s better this way. Even more special and magical that I found you right after I’ve gotten engaged. Do you believe in fate, Tammy Jo?”
“Sometimes.” I smiled. “If I do something right, it was all my doing. If something goes wrong, that’s fate’s fault,” I said with a wink.
She laughed, a deep throaty laugh that was completely unexpected. She covered her mouth as if embarrassed at having made noise. “You’re wonderful,” she said, reaching out to squeeze my arm again, and she actually did. “I knew you would be. I don’t have many friends. Not close ones. Would you mind if I wanted to become your close friend?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.
My brows shot up. I hadn’t had someone ask me outright to be their friend since kindergarten. I made friends all the time but not by any kind of design or proclamation. One minute you were having a chat with someone and the next they were sitting at your kitchen table telling you about their sick dog or their nephew in the army.
Since I’d already decided I liked the whispering doe-eyed Evangeline Rhodes, I said, “Well, a person can never have enough friends.”
“So true,” she said. Then her fingers dipped into her leather handbag with the gold buckles and emerged with a card. Her name was printed in fancy navy blue script with her telephone number underneath. There was no mention of a job, like most people would have on a business card. I glanced at her. She looked about twenty-five. Maybe she was in school. Either taking her time at it or in something like law school, which takes longer. Only she didn’t strike me as a doctor or lawyer. She was too shy and sweet for that, I thought.
“What do you do, Vangie?” I asked, trying out the nickname.
She smiled. “I inherit things,” she said, and tried to wink her left eye, but her right also closed halfway so it was a lopsided blink.
I grinned. “Now that’s a job I’d like to have. What do you inherit?”
“Money,” she said. “And magic. We’ve got that in common. I’m a witch, like you.”
Not like me, I bet. A lot of my spells went crazily wrong, which wasn’t typical for most witches. “Is that right? So that’s what you’ve come to see Bryn about? Some magical goings-on that have to do with the witches’ chapter in Dallas or something? You’re a friend of his, too?”
“No, not really. Or at all. I’ve talked to him a few times. He’s very . . . impressive. So much so that it makes me flustered.” She shrugged. “But this time I’ve got an important reason to talk to him. He made a promise to protect me. I need him to honor it.”
“Wait, what?” I asked. “You say he promised to protect you?”
She nodded with a smile. “I’d like you to be more than a witness at the wedding ceremony. How would you feel about being my maid of honor?”
My jaw fell open.
“You know what?” she asked, a little crease forming between her brows.
“No . . . what?” I asked, nearly struck speechless.
She fished into her designer purse again. “I didn’t expect to give you this yet, but I want to. I’m not going to wait until we’ve known each other longer. Why should I?” she asked defiantly, and thrust a white box with an orange satin ribbon around it toward me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
She looked unsure for a moment but then took a deep breath and exhaled. “Don’t open it until I’m gone. It’s just a little token of my friendship. I like giving people presents.”
“What a coincidence. I like getting them,” I murmured. “But back to what you were saying about Bryn.”
“I’ll let him tell you. I’m glad I came to see you first. I knew we’d be friends. A lot of people want to use me for my money. It’s not the same as friendship. I’ve come to understand that.” Her soulful eyes looked so sad. I closed my mouth on the questions that tried to spring from my tongue. “My family says it’s my fault. Sometimes I try too hard and need too much. It puts people off. But I won’t smother you. I promise. I won’t take up much of your time. I won’t be able to. I’ll be newly married and that will keep me busy. Along with my magic.”
“Listen, if you need protection from something, coming here and being my friend might be the last thing you should do. Lately lots of people have tried to kill me,” I said.
For a moment, she looked as hard and determined as a drill sergeant. “I will be your friend! You’re an inspiration.”
“An inspiration?” I said, surprised.
“Sure! The way you stood up for yourself and your town. I’ve admired you ever since I read about your exploits in WitchWeek. I’m trying to be more confident, you see. So now when I want to try something, like driving here to meet with Bryn Lyons who’s made me tongue-tied my entire adult life, I think: What would Tammy Jo do?”
Probably end up kissing him even when I wasn’t supposed to, I thought. “Oh boy,” I said, slapping a hand against my cheek. “I’m so flattered. I really am. But trying to think what I’d do and doing that could spell disaster. I’ve got good intentions and all, but I make a lot of mistakes.”
“Not about the important things. I can tell,” she said.
Mercutio padded to my side and looked up at her.
“Hello,” she said, crouching to touch Merc’s head. The fact that he let her was a really good sign. She smiled and glanced at me. “He’s beautiful. Where did you find him?”
“He found me,” I said. “Came down the river on a raft. Like Huck Finn.”
“Marvelous.” She ran her fingers through his fur. “I don’t have a companion at the moment. Mine died,” she said in a grief-stricken voice. “Everyone leaves me.”
“Sorry,” I said. Merc yowled sympathetically. “So who is it that you need protection from? It wouldn’t by chance be from a skeleton guy, would it?”
She cocked her head, giving Mercutio a last pat. “Skeleton guy? No, not that I know of. My enemies are flesh and blood, and plenty of it. I need directions to Bryn Lyons’s office. After I talk to him, he can fill you in since you’re just his magical apprentice for now.”
“I’m not his apprentice,” I said. “We’re magically bound together and he does have more experience, but—never mind. Bryn’s not in his office this time of morning,” I said, glancing at the horizon, where the sun had just shouldered its way up.
“I want to get the lay of the land. I’m staying one town over in Dyson, since there were no rooms available here.”
I grimaced. WAM, the World Association of Magic, had sent its leadership to take over Duvall a few weeks earlier. Bryn and I had stopped them, but the fallout had been a flood of biblical proportions. Duvall was still recovering and rebuilding.
“It will be exciting to tour Duvall,” she said. “We’ve heard so much about this place recently.”
I gave her directions, thinking I wanted to talk to Bryn before she did.
“Thank you,” she said, walking to a silver Bentley. “You have my card. Please call me anytime! And I’ll see you later,” she said with a hesitant smile. She opened the driver’s-side door and, with a wave, disappeared inside.
“Well, there’s something you don’t see every day,” I said. “Somebody who’s nice and rich and magical and not trying to kill us. Or at least not trying to kill us yet. But she’s kind of odd, huh?”
Merc meowed his agreement as her car pulled away. I slipped the ribbon off and opened the box. Inside was a rose-gold charm bracelet with a white-and-rose-gold cake charm that had tiny gems for decoration.
“Oh my gosh. Look at that,” I said, lifting it up to examine it. “Isn’t that the sweetest thing? You know what this means?” I asked. “I’m gonna have to drive to Dyson to get hazelnuts. Nobody in town car
ries them, and I need them if I’m going to make the chocolate Chambord dessert . . . although I guess I should ask Bryn about her first, before I start making her cakes.” I fastened the bracelet around my wrist, just trying it on for size. “What did you think of her?”
He gave me a satisfied purr.
“Yeah, I liked her, too, but she could turn out to be an assassin.” We’d been betrayed too many times to not be suspicious of a pretty-faced spellcaster.
He yowled.
“No, I don’t think so either. But here’s someone who thinks I’m a brilliant pastry chef and an inspiration to other women. And she passes out gifts to people she’s just met. Doesn’t that seem a little far-fetched to you?” I thrust out a hand. “No, don’t answer that. Let’s just hear what Bryn has to say.”
Merc meowed.
I walked to my car, a Ford Focus that had seen better days. After storms and floods, car chases and monster attacks, there were dents and scrapes that made it look years older than it was. I wanted to replace it but couldn’t afford to. Also, I wasn’t sure my hard-driving exploits were behind me. It seemed like a good idea to have a car that I didn’t worry about messing up.
5
AT THE GATE to Bryn’s mansion, I pushed the security console button and Steve, night security, acknowledged the ring.
“It’s Mercutio and me,” I said.
“Morning,” Steve said.
“Did he go to sleep when he got home?” I asked as the gates slid open.
“No, he’s in the pool.”
I smiled. Bryn swam most mornings. I liked watching more than I should have.
I parked on the paved circular drive and let us in through the unlocked front door. Merc and I went down the hallway of fancy paintings to the door that led to the saltwater pool. The courtyard’s paved with mosaic tiles and bordered by four large columns. After the state-of-the-art kitchen and the skylight in his bedroom, the pool’s my favorite thing about Bryn’s house.
“Hey,” I said when he surfaced. His black hair gleamed in the morning light.
He emerged from the pool, gorgeous as a siren. Bryn’s so good-looking it’s hard to put a finger on his best feature, but his smile’s definitely high on the list. And the fact that he always smiles when he sees me makes it doubly hard to resist.
“Hello again,” he said.
“Hello again yourself. What can you tell me about Evangeline Rhodes?”
“Evangeline Rhodes,” he said with a slight roll of his eyes. He grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his hair. “What makes you ask about her?”
“We met. We’re kind of friends.”
“Since when?”
“Since about seven thirty a.m. when she said my Black Chambord dessert was the best thing she’s ever tasted and that she’s been on a mission to meet me ever since I left Lampis. And since she asked to be my close friend. It’s hard to say no to friendship. Who am I? The Grinch?”
“You’re allowed to be selective when it comes to friends. You have reason to be cautious.”
“Yeah, but Vangie’s not too sure of herself. I know how that feels. I was shy when I was little. And though I kick butt in the kitchen and can hold my own in a gunfight, I’m not exactly the poster girl for spell-casting competency, so I guess I think she and I have a little bit in common. Plus, she seemed so sure that I was just the kind of friend she needed. I thought she might be right.”
“Tamara Josephine Trask, defender of the weak and champion of lost causes.”
“Well, who am I gonna defend? The strong? They can take care of themselves, and as for lost causes, there’s no such thing.”
He smiled, catching a lock of my hair and rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger absently. “That attitude is what gets you into trouble.” He curled the hair around his finger and tugged me forward with it. “And what makes you irresistible.”
I put out a hand, my palm against his chest to prevent myself from colliding with his body. A really good way to forget about everything was to start kissing Bryn. “So what about her?”
“She comes from a prominent and wealthy family. Her father was a wizard with a special talent for intelligence-gathering. He cast spells that allowed him to eavesdrop from great distances. WAM wanted to recruit him, but his temperament was wrong for fieldwork. He was too nervous. He restricted his data-gathering to the secrets of subjects who wouldn’t kill him. Businessmen mostly. Magical insider trading made him rich.
“Vangie’s mother drowned in a boating accident. Her father remarried about three years ago, and her stepmother and stepbrother moved in. The stepmother, Oatha Theroux, comes from a line of water witches. She’s not particularly powerful in terms of magic, but I don’t think he was interested in her for her spell-casting.”
“She’s pretty?”
“She’s voluptuous.”
“Ah.”
“They were pretty passionate about each other,” Bryn said, wrapping the towel around his waist.
“They were? They got divorced?”
“No, he died.”
“Oh!”
“He died of a heart attack while his wife and stepson were out of town. There’d been trouble between him and Oatha the week before he died, and Evangeline claimed her father threatened to divorce Oatha. Evangeline accused the wife of killing him.”
“Did someone investigate?”
“The police and coroner didn’t find evidence of foul play, and Evangeline wasn’t the most reliable source.”
“How come?”
“She has a history of mental illness. She’d already been hospitalized twice for nervous breakdowns. Her bouts of paranoia didn’t encourage authorities to take her seriously. And when she appealed to the local coven, she arrived disheveled and dressed in her great-grandmother’s moth-eaten clothes. She was hysterical.”
“What happened?”
“She was hospitalized again. Several of us did speak to the stepmother, though, and warned her that if anything happened to Evangeline, we would investigate with the kind of intensity that wouldn’t allow anything to be overlooked. Evangeline turned eighteen in the hospital and signed herself out. A lot of people offered to house her, but she bought a condo and disappeared into herself, living like a recluse most of the time. The stepmother and stepbrother still have contact with her through the money and the magic. Evangeline uses her father’s library, but Oatha won’t let her remove anything from the house. And Oatha insists on seeing Vangie frequently, claiming it’s for Vangie’s own protection. Evangeline has a tendency to spend lavishly on friends she’s just met, and several people have taken advantage of her.”
I moved my charm-bracelet-clad wrist behind me.
“Evangeline also has a bad temper and questionable judgment. She once tried to mow a former friend down with her Bentley. The woman ended up with a broken pelvis. Expensive lawyers convinced the judge that Evangeline had diminished capacity, so rather than jail she spent two years in a mental institution.”
“Two years,” I said with a gasp.
“Still want to be her friend?”
“Hmm,” I said, cocking my head. “What did the former friend do to make Vangie mow her down?”
Bryn raised his eyebrows. “Is there any argument that should be settled by hit-and-run with a Bentley?”
I pressed my lips together thoughtfully, watching steam rise from the pool. “Well . . .”
“Tamara,” Bryn said, shaking his head.
“All right, so maybe she’s a couple of Hershey’s miniatures shy of a full bag. That doesn’t mean she couldn’t use a friend. And she claims she has a right to your friendship and protection.”
“What?”
“She said you made a promise to protect her.”
Bryn tipped his head back, staring at the sky, then looked back at me. “I promised to help her look after her assets. I’ve given her legal advice. And several of us vowed to help if there was cause to believe her stepmother and stepbrother were trying to hurt her. But the
y have control of the house and the bulk of the estate. There’s no reason for them to target Evangeline. You need to understand that she has a history of paranoid delusions.”
“Oh, wow. And around here, we’ll never know if she’s crazy or if she’s right that someone’s after her, since a lot of the time, magical people come to town with murder on their minds.”
Bryn smiled. “You have a point.”
“I tried to warn her that my life’s crazy, but she wasn’t having it. And when she’s nervous she looks just like a baby deer. You can’t expect me to shoot Bambi down. And what if she really needs help?”
“I’ll look into it. But you need to remember her bouts of instability. She can be dangerous.”
“How does that make her different from any witch or wizard I’ve ever met?” I said with a sigh.
He pulled me in for a hug and kissed the side of my head. “Just be careful.”
“I’ll give it a whirl.”
“If I don’t hear from her in the next couple of hours, I’ll call her and set up a meeting.”
“Sounds good. Until then, I’ll be in the kitchen making everybody breakfast.”
“You need sleep. The staff and I can fend for ourselves today. I sent Jenson back to bed. He’s got a cold.”
I waved off this plan. “Mr. Jenson needs me to make him breakfast if he’s sick.”
“You’re not here to wait on the staff. The staff is here to take care of you and me.”
“That’s sure overstating things, don’t you think? It’s not my John Hancock on anybody’s paycheck.”
“Tamara,” he said.
“I’m cooking the breakfast. About the only way you can stop me is if you kick me out of your house. Maybe not even then. I’d probably just ring the bell and leave a package at the gate.”
Bryn smiled. “Thank you for making breakfast.”
“Welcome.”
6
AFTER BREAKFAST, I went home and hit the road. I delivered fresh bread, three apple pies, and two pumpkin pies to Jammers and three classic cheesecakes, one chocolate cheesecake, and two tiramisu desserts to De Marco’s Italian restaurant.
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