Champagne, Misfits, and Other Shady Magic (Dowser 7)
Page 11
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “Gran mentioned that you … had … some …” Then I faltered. Because though Gran had informed me of the sudden deaths — as head of the Convocation, she’d been officially notified in writing by someone within the Fairchild coven — I actually didn’t know whether they’d been accidental or not.
“Wisteria!” Gran called out from a high bistro table in the far corner of the seating area. “Declan. Please join me.”
Wisteria smiled, politely nodding toward my grandmother over her shoulder. Then she glanced back at me, concerned. “Jade …”
“No worries,” I said. I smiled, though apparently there were more mysteries to unravel, and I really didn’t have the patience for puzzles. “I’m on shift.” I turned to Declan. “I’ll get you a couple of cupcakes. Maybe two Clarity in a Cup? Apple spice cake with honey buttercream. Wisteria’s favorite.”
“Who could say no to that?” He grinned, cracking his hard exterior. “But I’m happy to stand in line.”
“Ah, but my grandmother won’t be happy if you do.”
Wisteria laughed.
Declan eyed her. A surprised but delighted curl of his lips softened all the stony edges of his face.
I turned away to help Todd get through the line that had formed while I’d been chatting — and, if I was completely honest, while I’d been attempting to avoid the confrontation I was certain was brewing between Gran and Scarlett. With Gran suddenly occupied, I found myself hoping that if I fussed about, ferrying cupcakes and hot drinks to and fro, maybe my mother would get tired of waiting.
But unfortunately for me, I got my short attention span from my father.
“You clearly added this extra arm,” Scarlett said, jabbing her finger at a crumpled piece of paper smoothed out on my workstation between her and Gran. “Even after I threw away the entire thing. Even after we’d agreed Jade shouldn’t use runes at all. I didn’t even want her at an anchor point in the first place.”
Ah, lovely. I paused where I’d stopped in the swing doors between the kitchen and storefront, still holding one of them open — and contemplating retreating before anyone noticed me.
Gran, dressed in charcoal wool pants and a loosely buttoned lightweight blue cardigan, wore her long hair braided down her back. Not a hair out of place, as always. I hadn’t even noticed when she’d broken off talking to Wisteria and Declan, let alone when she’d slipped past me and into the kitchen.
Scarlett was a bright beacon next to her mother, not a hint of gray in her hair. Both of them were petite, beautiful women. But they wielded their powerful magic very differently.
Kandy had pretty much crammed her stool and herself into the far back corner of the kitchen, practically hiding behind the dishwasher. When she glanced over at me, I saw that her green shapeshifter magic ringed her eyes.
Doubly lovely. My mother and grandmother were terrifying a werewolf.
“You may be a proficient witch, Scarlett,” Gran said stiffly. “But you are no expert in using runes as anchors.”
Scarlett straightened her shoulders. A soft smile spread across her face, deceptively sweet and completely deadly. “Well, Pearl, your expertise has tied Jade too tightly to the magical grid.”
“It’s done nothing of the sort,” Gran snapped.
I let go of the swing door but didn’t step forward swiftly enough. It hit the heel of my sneaker as it closed, drawing Scarlett’s and Gran’s attention to me. Both of their eyes were alive with the blue of their witch magic, a power display that combined with Kandy’s anxiety, so that the magic threading through the room was suddenly on the edge of stifling. Or at least it would have been two years earlier. Now, the magic of my necklace simply shifted to compensate.
I tried a smile, falling into the role of peacemaker even though my mother and grandmother rarely needed me to intercede. They kept their issues with each other hidden under icy layers of silence.
Scarlett’s smile was tempered by my own. But Gran didn’t bother, simply waving me forward impatiently as if I was the one invading their space, not the other way around.
“We were just discussing the grid, Jade,” Scarlett said. “To figure out how to fix it.”
“It doesn’t need fixing,” Gran said. “It worked perfectly last night, alerting Jade and Kandy to the issue with Mory, and allowing Burgundy time to clean up.”
I strolled forward, not thinking before I spoke. “Sure. As long as it didn’t cause the issue in the first place.”
Gran looked at me as though I’d just stabbed her in the heart. A curl of a smirk flitted across Scarlett’s face.
The magic pooling between them intensified.
Kandy muttered uncomfortably, crossing her arms so that her hands were tight around her cuffs.
“Witch magic would not have affected a necromancer,” Gran said frostily, crossing her own arms. “Whatever happened to Mory was of her own doing.”
“The grid contains more than witch magic.” Scarlett was beaming sunnily, yet she still managed to clip her words. “As I cautioned against in the first place.”
“Jade is powerful —”
“Jade is too powerful for this casting.” Scarlett jabbed her finger at the piece of paper again. From my new vantage point, I could see it was the same paper that I’d copied the runes off the night before. Kandy must have given it to my mother. “And far, far too powerful for this extra leg …” — she traced the swirl at the top of the final rune that I’d used to close the circle — “… which you added. Behind my back.”
“Behind your back,” Gran scoffed. “Since when are you interested in anything having to do with the coven?”
“I am interested, and always have been, in anything having to do with Jade.”
Gran laughed, but she wasn’t amused. “Again, since when?”
Blue magic sparked underneath Scarlett’s hand, briefly reflecting against the stainless steel of the freestanding counter. She wasn’t smiling anymore. “Shall we discuss that now, Pearl? In front of Jade?”
Tension flitted across my grandmother’s face as she flicked her gaze to me.
“What’s going on?” I whispered.
Neither of them answered me.
I looked toward Kandy. She shrugged her shoulders, but as if she’d been expecting the confrontation, rather than being confused by it.
“Jade.” Scarlett chose her words carefully. “Your gran has always had very specific guidelines for you to follow. We disagreed.”
“And I suppose you’re going to claim you could have raised your daughter by yourself.” Gran uncrossed her arms, clenching her fists at her sides instead. “At sixteen? With no husband?”
Scarlett glanced at me. Her gaze was soft. “I would have liked to have been more involved.”
“You were as involved as you chose to be. Jade isn’t an idiot. She can remember as clearly as I do.”
“Does she?” Scarlett whispered. “Does she remember the arguments, the tears?”
“You were a child yourself.”
“And Jade was the powerful daughter you always thought you should have had.”
Gran sneered. “Being jealous of your own daughter is awfully petty, Scarlett.”
My mother abruptly stepped into Gran’s space, making me realize for the first time that she was actually about an inch taller than her mother. “You won’t frighten me off this time, Pearl. Or bully me so much that I have to get away from you just so I can breathe.”
Gran scoffed.
My mother stepped back, angling her shoulder to include me in the conversation but not looking at me. “And you won’t continue to use Jade to further expand your power base.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Scarlett glanced over at me. “I’m sorry, Jade. I should have taken my concerns to you directly. I’ve been too worried about playing nice.”
“You always wanted everyone to like you, Scarlett,” Gran said haughtily. “Jade gets that weakness from you.”
S
carlett turned back toward her mother. “That’s enough!”
Magic flashed between her and Gran.
Pearl stumbled back.
My jaw dropped and stayed down.
“Control yourself, child,” Gran said.
Scarlett stalked toward her. “Make me, mother of mine.”
Gran glared at her. Despite her gray hair, she and my mother were practically twins in all ways except their magic. But in that moment, I wondered whether Scarlett had simply been politely hiding her strength. Maybe for too many years.
“You will recast the grid tonight.” My mother put on a smooth, practiced tone. “You will have another witch stand in for Jade.”
“I will not.”
“Then I will, Pearl.”
“You think the witches will gather at your behest?”
Scarlett laughed. “Yes, Pearl. I believe they would. Because they all felt Jade’s magic in the grid last night. Just as you did. That power thrilled you. Emboldened you. But the rest of us aren’t looking to build a weapon.”
Kandy straightened suddenly, catching all our attention. Her gaze was fiercely glued to Gran. “The grid is simply a detection system.”
Scarlett nodded. “That was the plan.”
“We needed thirteen witches in their prime,” Gran said. But in her tone, even I could hear that she was suddenly scrambling to cobble together a justification. “Jade is more than capable —”
“Much, much more than capable.” Scarlett smiled at me. “But not necessary for a simple detection system. ‘Overkill’ is an apt expression. But even simply ‘off-balancing.’ Just ask Kandy what she scented this morning.”
Gran jutted her chin out, but she didn’t respond.
Kandy shifted, looking thoughtful. But she also remained silent.
“We’re in agreement, then.” Scarlett offered her mother another blistering smile. “You will gather the witches. Or I will.”
She turned away without waiting for Gran’s reply, sauntering over to me.
I realized in that moment that I’d been standing immobile, staring at Gran and Scarlett. Shocked to silence. All this magic I channeled, all this strength at my disposal — and still, I would apparently unravel in response to even a hint of familial conflict.
Scarlett touched my shoulder lightly. “Simply reversing the casting will likely be enough, but your grandmother and I will consult on the particulars through the day.”
I nodded, even though I wasn’t completely sure what I was agreeing to. Or if I was taking sides … assuming sides had to be taken.
Scarlett glanced back at her mother.
Gran’s face hardened. Her magic churned around her clenched fists in miniature blue whirlwinds, suddenly reminding me of her fierce anger when I had first opened the portal. Her vehemence.
It seemed that she didn’t have any issues with using the power I’d had to uncover for myself. Power that had been carefully mitigated, and therefore easily downplayed, through baking and trinket making. At Gran’s suggestion.
“I understand Wisteria and Declan are in the bakery?” Scarlett asked lightly. “Certainly you shouldn’t let the opportunity to cement your relationship with the new head of the Fairchild coven languish, Pearl? Especially since the reconstructionist no longer jumps at your command.”
“Wisteria Fairchild is entirely mindful of where her loyalties lie, Scarlett.”
My mother laughed quietly. “I dare say she is.” Then she patted my arm. “Kandy says you made some Love in a Cup.”
“And Charm,” I said, speaking by rote. “Same strawberry buttercream.” The taste of both had been inspired by my mother’s magic.
“I know, darling.”
Scarlett exited through the swing doors. And as she went, I found myself suddenly wondering whether her last words had been a stealthy but overt statement — insinuating that I modeled my idea of what love tasted like after her, and not my grandmother.
I looked over to Gran, who was glaring after her daughter.
“You don’t agree?” I said quietly. “That my magic has off-balanced the grid.”
“I don’t,” Gran snapped. She crossed over to the workstation, carefully folding the piece of paper still there.
I glanced over at Kandy. “The itchy feet.”
The green-haired werewolf nodded, but she kept her gaze on Gran.
“A side effect I’m sure we can sort out,” Gran said offishly.
“The runes weren’t enough of an anchor,” I said.
Gran stiffened. But she tucked the piece of paper in her pocket without looking at me.
“Magic was flowing into the anchor point. But not out.”
“How did you compensate?”
Kandy closed the space between us, leaning against the counter. Deceptively casual, her hooded gaze was pinned to Gran. “I already mentioned that, Pearl.”
Gran looked at Kandy witheringly. “What you observed might not be the same thing that Jade felt, werewolf.”
I didn’t like my grandmother’s tone. I didn’t like her calling Kandy ‘werewolf’ as though it were derogatory.
“It seems like we have a problem, Gran,” I said, deliberately settling my own tone. “What did Scarlett mean … about building a weapon?”
“I had you remove your knife and necklace, didn’t I?” Gran said. Not really answering my question.
“Jade and the artifacts are one,” Kandy said darkly.
“It should have worked,” Gran said in a huff.
“What should have worked?”
“I won’t have my words picked apart by you and your mother, Jade.” And with that pronouncement, Gran swept through the kitchen and out into the storefront.
Kandy looked at me. “Her words picked apart? Or her intentions?”
“Scarlett and Gran aren’t ever going to see eye-to-eye,” I said, somewhat lamely. Not addressing any of the things that Kandy or my mother had implied.
Kandy eyed me for a moment. Then she grinned easily. “Are you going to bake the rest of the chocolate-blackberry batter or not?”
I laughed. “Have you been rifling through my fridges?”
“Would you expect anything less?”
Shaking my head, I rounded the workstation and pulled out the mixing bowl with the aforementioned batter. I would let it come to room temperature as I made another round of chocolate-blackberry buttercream for Sass in a Cup and Flirt in a Cup — two of four seasonal cupcakes originally designed to match my werewolf BFF’s magic. So they were, of course, her favorites.
Kandy slid her stool to the edge of the steel counter, placing her chin in her hands and contentedly watching me bake.
Unfortunately, the peace that baking normally provided me was disturbed by my apparent need to run Gran and Scarlett’s heated conversation over and over in my head.
“I thought they were going to start throwing magic,” I murmured.
Kandy grunted. “Not in front of you. Not deliberately, at least.”
Silence fell between us. Then Kandy spoke quietly. “Had Pearl told you that Scarlett abandoned you?”
I shifted my shoulders uncomfortably. “She never used that word.”
“No. She wouldn’t.”
I handed Kandy the beater so she could lick off the buttercream. My best friend let the subject drop. And I made no effort to revive it.
6
I had just slipped the final tray filled with Harmony in a Cup — sweet cherry buttercream swirled on an airy white cake — onto the display shelf when magic bloomed underneath my feet.
“Well, that’s wonderful timing,” I muttered to myself, smiling at a customer who was pointing out the tray of Sex in a Cup — a cinnamon-laced cocoa cake with dark-chocolate buttercream — rather enthusiastically to her companion. By the way her friend kept glancing up at the prettily chalked menu over my head, then down at the offerings on display, I gathered it was her first visit to Cake in a Cup.
Tima wasn’t on shift for another thirty minutes, and t
he storefront was devoid of Adepts, who had all wandered off to attend to their own errands and sightseeing. Though Wisteria had talked of her tourist activities being focused around finding the perfect lunch spot.
The magic underneath my feet was tickling me. Then without warning, it cranked right over into itching. Jesus, zombies couldn’t walk in the day, could they? I swore inwardly. I was going to have to abandon Todd right before the post-lunch rush.
I stepped past the cash register, whispering to the espresso wizard doing his thing at his machine. “Be right back.”
He nodded, then glanced over at the customer waiting on the other side of the coffee counter. The willowy, impeccably dressed brunette turned his head coyly, pretending to not notice Todd’s regard.
Right. Everything appeared to be under control.
I hustled back to the kitchen, waving to a few regular customers.
“Quad nonfat no-whip mocha,” Todd said with great satisfaction. “May I recommend an Ecstasy in a Cup to go with it? The double chocolate cake will compliment the mocha but not overwhelm it. And the lemon buttercream is just an added bonus. On the house.”
See?
I wasn’t the only one who wooed with tasty baked goods.
I ditched my apron, grabbed my satchel from the office, and hightailed it out the alley door. I texted Kandy as my itchy feet forced me onto, then east along West Fourth Avenue. Quickly zigzagging through the dense foot traffic, I passed my bank, then my yoga studio, and jogged across Yew against the light.
The magic underneath my feet intensified as I traversed the block, heading slightly downhill so that I could see the perpetually long line of customers at Sophie’s Cosmic Cafe on the corner of Arbutus. Closer in, I motored past Connie’s Cookhouse, wishing I were dropping in for one of their lunch specials.