A tingle washed over me, similar to the one I felt when witches were near, but it wasn’t a signature I recognized. Looking around, I didn’t see anyone who might have set my witchy senses tingling, although I saw some green sparkles outside the window. I couldn’t tell whether I was still so drained that I couldn’t pinpoint the magic, or if this was something new like the trolls, that I’d never seen before because I wasn’t sensitive enough.
The Lung dragon might have said that the changes in me were neither good nor bad, but I worried just the same. The changes might give me access to more power — and power, for me, surely led to the Dark Side, hate or no.
Brooding wasn’t going to change anything, though. There was work to be done, and lunch rush was about to hit. I called Ximena from the kitchen to help take orders. She had calmed down immensely, and her sweet smiles soon led to an overflowing tip jar. The smell of warm snickerdoodles filling the air might have helped, too.
When the crowd thinned out again, I left Ximena to watch the front while I went back to finish up the kitchen clean-up. She’d done all the baking; the least I could do was wash the pans, not that stacking them in the industrial dishwasher was that hard.
I stopped by Kendall’s office afterward. If anyone asked, I was looking for the names of other contractors to call about the painting job once we got our deposit back with the aid of the bank. And I did that — getting the coffee shop painted was still a task I was responsible for and was going to follow through on. However, I also pulled out the employment records, taking quick snapshots with my phone so I had everyone’s home address, not just Ximena’s. Everybody had been on edge lately, and it would make my life easier if I calmed down my coworkers.
The voice in my head that told me it was selfish, underhanded, and unethical to do this, even if I was going to help others with the information? I ignored it.
The later the afternoon got, the slower the clock seemed to crawl. It was worse than the last day of school, waiting for the bell to ring for summer, worse than when Dad and I went to meet Mom at the airport and found out her flight had been delayed for an hour and a half, worse than sitting through a graduation speech where the commencement speaker had dropped his notes and lost his place — twice. I wanted my treat, and I wanted it now.
Even Rich showing up didn’t help. Usually, that meant the end of the shift was near. But no, he’d decided he was going to earn brownie points by putting in some extra time reorganizing our inventory and ordering system. Because of course he did, even if it meant no one else would be able to make heads or tails of the paperwork. Or maybe especially. That control streak was getting wider by the day, and it rubbed me the wrong way.
Rich returned from the back room with the schedule clipboard in his hands. “You need to give Ximena fewer shifts so Freddy can get some daytime experience.”
Need to? “No, I don’t. Besides, you hired him to work close.”
“He needs experience doing all the shifts if I’m going to promote him to assistant manager.”
That was my last nerve. “If Kendall tells me that she has decided to give the manager position to you, then you can start giving me orders and worrying about who you’re going to promote to replace yourself. And you can worry about who you’re going to find to replace me, too, because I will quit before I will work for a jerk who thinks he can order me around even though we have the same job.”
“I didn’t give you an order.”
“Yes, you did. And you need to stop.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
I raised my eyebrows at him wordlessly, but he didn’t seem to get that I had used the exact same wording, that I had done the exact same thing, he had. Misogynist, or merely clueless? Either way, it was time to enlighten him.
“I didn’t do anything that you didn’t already do.” He started to open his mouth, but I pointed at him and kept talking. “Now stop screwing up the inventory system because if Ximena or I can’t find what we need when we need it, I will make sure that Kendall knows you’re responsible. You’re not in charge, you’re not going to be in charge, and you need to get over yourself.”
I was so close to losing control that I was grateful for my magic being at low ebb. The coffee pots might be running a little hot in response to my temper — I could smell burned coffee — but there weren’t any sparks.
“Yet.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not in charge yet, and you’d better watch yourself when I am. After all, you haven’t done anything on your task.”
That wasn’t true, and Kendall knew it. No point in telling Rich, though, especially since I still had to find a replacement. “You’re not going to be in charge,” I repeated. I glanced at the clock. “But since you’re here early, I’m going to go ahead and take off. I was in early, and I have some contractors I need to talk to.”
He went white around the mouth and his eyes narrowed, but I turned and walked off. Sure, he was angry, but his anger was nothing compared to what I expected when Haris and I took out the ghost later.
As for the manager’s position? I wouldn’t use magic to get it — that would be cheating. But I would get it. And then he could decide whether he could work with me or if he wanted to leave. No hexes, no retaliation. If he wanted to walk, he could. But if he stayed, he was damned well going to listen and take orders instead of giving them.
I left with the folder of possibilities sticking ostentatiously out of the top of my purse. I wasn’t ditching work; I was being responsible.
It was a nice story, even if I hadn’t had any intention of visiting potential contractors. However, I’d declared my intention to be manager. To claim power. It wasn’t magical power, but it was power nonetheless. At least my mom would be happy.
Chapter 19
I needed a break before I headed over to Maggie’s and the parking garage near her little spite house. I headed down Avery Street toward Boston Common. I could find a nice bench to sit and peruse the information in the folder I’d taken from work, as well as do the due diligence that Kendall seemed to skip to see whether the companies were reputable. And as long as I had my phone out, I could check out the addresses of my coworkers and decide on my next target after today.
A group of college-age people had taken over a chunk of grass to start a game of Ultimate Frisbee. Beyond them, some mothers with children fairly close in age to my twins lounged on the grass, watching their kids bounce around and ask when they were going to get ice cream. Solid thwocks came from the direction of the tennis court; on a day like this, with the light breeze and clear skies, there were probably people lined up waiting their turn. A peaceful summer day without any of the rage that had been so prevalent last week.
I meandered over to sit under a tree, since that seemed easier than finding an unoccupied bench. Cooler, too, without the sun on my head. Black hair concentrated the heat. Finding a comfortable spot between the bare spots and the tree roots wasn’t easy, but it beat staying at work and arguing with Rich.
I had just opened the folder when the same tingling that had touched me earlier crept up my arms and back. Looking around, I didn’t see anything obvious, so I returned my attention to the papers in front of me. The first one had a note that the owner returned calls at 2 a.m. The second one didn’t have any sort of voice mail and didn’t return calls at all. The third one —
Green sparkles at the edge of my vision caught my attention, interrupting me. I looked over, but it vanished. I turned back to the papers and heard a high-pitched tinkling. Just great. Peter Pan’s friend was haunting me now.
The third company didn’t have any notes from Kendall about why she hadn’t chosen it, so I did a search for reviews and news on my phone. Nothing. As far as the great and powerful gods of the Internet (or, you know, servers and bots) knew, this company didn’t even exist. I wondered where Kendall had heard of them.
There was no fourth company. Or, to be accurate, the fourth company was the one Kendall was try
ing to get our deposit back from.
I leaned my head back against the tree and told myself any sparkles I saw up above were merely sunlight through the leaves. I could and would ignore anything else while I took stock of my next step. I’d have to find more contractors, which wouldn’t be hard, and sift through them to find someone reputable who had time to fit us in, which might be hard.
Later. I would do the search later, when I wasn’t feeling so run-down about anything to do with work. But what was the alternative — just give up and let Rich run the shop? I might not be ambitious, but I had enough pride to at least try.
Sighing, I opened my scanner app and let it OCR the recent pictures I’d taken of the employment files, then add the information to my address book. Time to see where my coworkers lived.
As I’d suspected, Ximena’s apartment backed up on a parking garage. I pinned that location, then looked at Rich’s address. He lived closer to the coffee shop than I did, and there was no way he was currently being affected by one of the garage ghosts. He was just being an asshole.
Kendall lived in a neighborhood where people had their own garages and drove to the T to get to work. I didn’t have to worry about her.
The map app couldn’t pinpoint Freddy’s address, which worried me. He might have a good reason to lie on his job application. Maybe he was homeless, maybe he was a runaway — although he looked a little old for that — maybe the app just didn’t recognize it, which wasn’t unheard of in Boston. Still, I would keep an eye on him. If I noticed anything else that was screwy or didn’t add up, I might have to tell Kendall.
Another tinkling from overhead. I ignored it. I couldn’t see anything, all I heard was tinkling — if it wanted me to see it, it would show itself.
The only reason I wasn’t worried was that I felt no aura of menace, none of the rage and anger and hatred that I knew magical creatures could convey. Just presence — which was fading.
Okay, then. Just assume it was another side effect of whatever change the ghost had made in me. Carole had said the Boston area was rife with magical types. This was just one more, and I was sure there would be others. I’d have to have a talk with her after she got back to Boston, though, just to make sure there weren’t going to be unwelcome surprises.
For now, I’d just head to the dry cleaner to pick up Maggie’s dress. Watching the kids play made me wish mine were here with me, though I could just see Matt flipping out about that idea, given his overreaction to them going to school the other day.
Matt. Yeesh. I didn’t know what was up with his hot and cold attitude toward me, and now wasn’t the time for me to spend digging into it. I thought we’d settled the “let’s be friends” question years ago, but now he was bringing it back up, and — no, I wasn’t going to ruin this lovely afternoon by worrying about what my ex was thinking. No, no, no, and no.
Instead, I would focus on the sun, and the sweet lassitude that came with the warmth, and the freedom from hate … and on seeing Haris later.
The ward around Maggie’s house went all the way to the edge of her property line. One moment, I was walking down the sidewalk, shoulders bowed against the onslaught of vengeful anger from the ghost, and the next, there wasn’t even a hint that the ghost had ever been there. I stopped and blinked, just as if I’d been in a dark room and someone had turned on floodlights. Surprising that anyone walked past her house rather than lingering on her doorstep, basking in the peace.
Maggie’s cats sat on the porch step again. They had new charms on their collars, pretty little clay things with spiral designs — their personal wards, no doubt. I bent to pet Bast and felt a slight resistance when my hand was a couple inches above her back.
“Other magic can’t touch them,” Maggie said.
I hadn’t heard the door open. “Not even neutral magic?”
“It’s easier to block everything than to try to create a filter. Although someone who’s good at computer programming could probably make a nice Bayesian ward,” she added thoughtfully.
“Not me,” I said.
I knew my limits — a simple app that hooked into social media APIs, like Bitter, not a problem. Programming a ward from scratch, and then finding examples of enough different types of magic to train it? Although … it would, of necessity, only permit magic from people or creatures who were friendly enough to me to agree to help. And I did know a handful of magical people, as well as several witches. Something to think about.
Something of my thoughts must have crossed my face because Maggie just hmmmed and said, “You’re prompt returning the dress. You did clean it?”
“Just picked it up from the dry cleaner on my way over.”
“I suppose you’d better come in, then.” She held the door open for me, but her brow was creased. “And I’ll put some water on for tea.”
“You don’t already have it brewed?” In all the time I’d known her, Maggie always had the tea ready when I arrived, whether I told her I was coming or not. She said it was an advantage of having the Sight.
“No.”
We danced around each other in the narrow space before she turned and headed for the kitchen, leaving me to close the door behind myself. I waited to see whether the cats were coming first before shutting it. I brushed past the chairs and table, then hung the garment bag on the same hook in the closet that I’d taken it from the previous week.
I called around the corner, “Do you need some help in the kitchen?”
“I’ve got it. Make yourself comfortable — I’ll be out in a few.”
Without the tray sitting on it, the end table clearly displayed its Ouroboros motif, surrounding a globe centered on Europe. Waves and clouds decorated different portions of the world serpent, and small circles dotted the area outside the serpent’s orbit — circles marked with spirals like the cats’ wards. I rubbed my finger along one of the spirals.
“It works like a labyrinth,” Maggie said from behind me. “It doesn’t have to be closed off because it confuses the ill-wisher.”
“But doesn’t it pull all the negative energy to the center?”
“You’d think so, but it works.”
“Ever pragmatic, Maggie.” I sat down to get out of her way.
She set the tray down but remained standing, staring at me still with the frown on her face.
“What, do I have two heads?”
“Don’t joke about it.” She finally sat but didn’t reach for the pot to pour. “I’ve never worried about what the other witches think about you, not just because I’ve known you so long, but also because I could See you. I might not approve of revenge, but you didn’t have a malicious bone in your body.”
“Didn’t?” A chill crept over my skin. How much had the ghost’s touch changed me?
“You still might not. I can’t tell.”
“Everyone has an off day.”
She shook her head. “That’s like saying it’s okay if I wake up and can’t see with my eyes one day. But it’s more like I woke up and couldn’t see a person standing right in front of me, even though I could see everything else around me.”
“So — what? I don’t exist?”
In answer, she finally poured a cup of tea and passed it to me. I took it with a murmured “thanks.”
“As my china isn’t lying in pieces on the floor, you obviously exist,” she said drily. “And the cats’ wards noticed you.”
“But?”
“But I can’t see your actions or intentions. I will have to judge you on your past actions.” She sounded put out at me.
“Like an ordinary person, you mean? How disappointing.”
She laughed ruefully and poured herself a cup of tea. “I’m a little old to learn how to do that, don’t you think?”
“Ha! You’re not old.”
“I suppose I’ll have to learn.” She took a sip of her tea. “I heard the other witches visited you at work earlier this week.”
“It felt like villagers with torches and pitchforks.” I
picked up a cookie from the tray, but I didn’t bite into it yet. “They wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say.”
“Witches do tend to stubbornness.” The faint smile on her face said that she was including herself in this description.
“I might have figured out how to banish a ghost,” I said. “The one in my neighborhood has been dealt with — and yes, I know that’s just going to make the other witches even more suspicious. Your neighborhood’s up next. At least they shouldn’t have any problem with that.”
“How many others are there?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. If the other witches talked to me rather than threatening me, I might know where there are others. Meanwhile, I’m thinking about wards and wishing I had enough magic to turn 95 and 93 into one. No way I’ve got enough for 495.”
Her mouth hung open. “That … is audacious. A patron might manage it; a witch, never.”
I believed her. Just warding the coffee shop had wiped me out. “I know. Like I said, wishful thinking. Like building a wall to keep out rising sea levels. Or sea-related patrons,” I added darkly, remembering the sensation of drowning.
“I see,” she said chillily. Too late, I remembered the waves engraved on the table.
“Not a wall, then. One of those Bayesian filters. These women’s ghosts smell like the seashore — all salt and decay. If we could cut them off from that, we’d be fine.”
“Again with the ‘we.’” Her voice hadn’t warmed much, even though I had already told her I didn’t know how to do that level of work.
“Fine. I’m not expecting you to help, although this would be a hell of a lot easier if all the other witches would at least stop attacking me.” I set the cup down. “Thank you again for the loan of the dress. I’ll see myself out.”
Her inability to watch me with her Sight had created an opening between us that I had just deepened to a rift. I hoped I could repair it later. After I fixed the city.
Maybe eliminating the ghost here would at least be a rope bridge across the divide? We’d have to see.
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