Ain't Love a Witch? (Witchless in Seattle Mysteries Book 6)

by Dakota Cassidy

  “Bel!” Stevie scolded as she scooped him back out of her purse. “It’s not Winnie’s fault. Please don’t treat her that way.”

  Winnie shook her dark head, her hair falling in cascades of shiny ebony down her back as she dropped a kiss on a very petulant Bel’s head. “It’s fine, Stevie. I get it. BY isn’t a favorite among many for various reasons. She’s still on my crap list for booting you. I’ll never get why she did that.”

  “Speaking of Baba, won’t she like, behead you for being here with me?”

  I hated the tentative nature of Stevie’s voice. I wasn’t fond of the fact that this Baba Yaga had taken away not just her home, but her friends. It was more power than any one woman should wield. Leader of all witches or not.

  Yet, Winnie rolled her eyes and sighed. “What Baba Whoha doesn’t know won’t kill her. In fact, nothing will kill her. Ask her many foes. Look,” Winnie said, leaning on the kitchen island. “I’m tired of hiding our friendship. I have other human friends. I don’t see why you can’t be one of them. It’s not like I’m sharing coven secrets. So she’ll just have to adjust. Now, sit with me, tell me about this baby business.”

  “Tea?” Stevie asked as Winnie took a seat at the kitchen island on one of the stools. “And nice cover story, by the way. Wow, you’re much quicker than I am. You totally caught me off guard, but you sure can spin a tale.”

  Winnie winked a long lash. “I did do time, if you’ll recall. I learned more than just how to make slippers out of Kotex pads and duct-tape.”

  Ah, yes. I remembered the story Stevie told me about Winnie’s time in prison for blowing up her current husband’s warehouse. Certainly a testament to love conquers all. She now lives quite happily in Paris, Texas, with her husband, daughter, and son.

  “Oh, malutka, I like this woman! She is resourceful. Meow!”

  “Mind your manners, Russian,” Stevie teased as she grabbed teabags to make them some tea.

  Winnie cocked an eyebrow at Stevie. “Why didn’t you just text me and tell me I had another baby, Stevie? You know I’d cover for you.”

  Stevie paused, filling the kettle for a moment, and shrugged. “I guess I just didn’t want to involve you in anything that might get you into trouble with Baba. Who knew you’d show up here after all this time? I mean, I haven’t seen you in a year and then poof—you’re here. If I ever make up big fat lies about you again, I promise I’ll give you the head’s up.”

  Winnie grinned, cupping her chin. “Please do. I at least want to be let in on the fun. It’s mysterious and sort of sexy. Rather like your Spy Guy, huh?”

  My ear perked up. Had Stephania discussed me with Winnie?

  Stevie chuckled as she set the kettle on the stove and turned on the gas. “Yes, just like my man of mystery.”

  Her words left me chuffed. Stevie found me sexy and mysterious, eh? I shook my head to clear my thoughts so as not to dwell and focused on Stephania’s friend. I felt the need to introduce myself even though Winnie couldn’t hear me.

  “Do say hello for me, Stevie, would you?”

  “Win says hello, by the way.”

  Winnie smiled flirtatiously and fanned herself, looking up at the ceiling. “By all means, say hello back. Although, I still think it’s so kooky you can hear him after losing your powers. Sorry, Win! No disrespect intended.”

  Stevie set two mugs out and pulled up a stool across from Winnie. “Tell me about it. It’s so frustrating to have some of my old life back, yet the rest still escapes me. Except for tonight. Holy cow dung, let me tell you what happened tonight.”

  As Stevie relayed our latest adventure and told Winnie about the baby and his circumstances, Winnie nodded and listened intently, while Arkady all but drooled like some slobbering basset hound as we sat on our favorite bench.

  “Knock it off, old man. You look an utter sod,” I teased.

  “Ah, but she is beautiful, yes? Like our malutka? One must appreciate such beauty and drink it all up whenever one can. Are all witches this beautiful, Zero?”

  I didn’t have the answer to that, but I did have to agree with him. Our malutka was quite beautiful.

  “Anyway,” Stevie said as the kettle pealed a whistle. “That’s what’s happened so far.”

  Winnie’s face went soft in sympathy. “This poor baby. What will you do if you can’t figure out what’s happened to his mother?”

  “I might have to fake your death, and a will that says I get to keep him, because he goes nowhere without me,” Stevie replied, and I saw by the glint of determination in her eyes, she meant it.

  I won’t tell you I hadn’t given thought to what could happen to Hardy should he become an orphan. I will tell you, nothing would please me more than to see this child grow healthy and strong under Stevie’s guidance, if the only alternative were to have him adopted, but I feared that likely couldn’t be with Stephania. Not if Von Krause ever found out about this house and who had once owned it.

  He’d come looking, and he’d know. I have no doubt he’d know Hardy was his flesh and blood.

  Winnie dunked her teabag in the freshly poured, steaming water and spoke with very obvious caution, judging by the thoughtful look on her face. “Oh, sweetie. You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you?”

  Stevie shrugged, avoiding Winnie’s searching eyes by looking into the contents of her tea. “It’s too soon to tell. We’ve only been on one date so far and he drools. I’m still thinking it over.”

  Winnie reached out a hand and squeezed Stevie’s. “Aw, honey. You’re treading in dangerous water…”

  She looked down at their hands. “Maybe so. But how can I help but fall in love? Who wouldn’t fall in love with that face?” She pointed to the baby monitor’s camera, where they could see Hardy curled up, sound asleep with the stuffed toys Stevie had bought him. “Right now, I’m just taking care of him until we find out what happened to his mother. I’m only trying to do what’s right so he won’t end up in the system.”

  Winnie cupped Stevie’s chin and nodded with a warm smile. “And you’re the best person ever for doing it. I’m not judging, Stevie. Surely you know that. I spent time in prison, for goodness sake. Who am I to judge? I’m just keeping you present.”

  Stevie reached over and patted Winnie’s hand. “I know. And you’re right. Win’s been tiptoeing around the same thing, haven’t you, Spy Guy?”

  Yes. And thankfully, I didn’t have to be the one to tell her she was walking a fine line. “I think your friend is smart and wise.”

  Stevie laughed, taking a sip of her tea. “So, how’s everything back in Paris?”

  As Winnie relayed stories from Stevie’s old hometown about her friends, and they laughed and chatted, I felt the warm glow of Stevie’s happiness emanate from her very pores, and this pleased me no end. She might not be allowed back in Paris, but I was thrilled to bits a piece of Paris had given the middle finger to Baba Yaga and come to see Stevie anyway.

  As Winnie finished her tea, she looked over the rim of her cup at Stephania and asked, “So, are you happy, honey? I mean really happy, living here, being a medium? Solving these crazy crimes that seem to keep popping up right under your nose?”

  I held my breath at the question. I always wondered, given the chance, if Stevie would go back to Texas. Not that a choice like that would ever make me leave her side, but even though I can’t enjoy the physical things her world has to offer, I do enjoy the beauty of our home and Ebenezer Falls.

  I’d miss Officer Nelson, Chester, and even Sandwich.

  “I am. I really am. Bel and I have managed to create a new life here, and it’s pretty great. I have Win and Arkady and our assorted pets. I love helping people from the afterlife, even if it is via Win and Arkady, and I love this house. Of course, I’d have none of it if not for Win, but yeah. I’m happy. Life is good. I might not have my powers, but I’m managing to make my way anyhow. I guess I’m living in spite of Adam Westfield and Baba Yaga.”

  Every time I heard the name A
dam Westfield, the vengeful warlock who’d literally slapped Winnie so hard, he’d stolen her powers, I wanted to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until his eyes burst from his head.

  Gruesome? Maybe. Yet, I won’t apologize for my wish to see this scum obliterated. Especially since he’d once come after me and nearly annihilated my soul. Apparently, when a ghost loses his soul, it truly is lights out—forever.

  However, as unlikely as it seems, he’s the one who showed me possession of a body for a length of time is indeed possible—because he’d done it right before our very eyes.

  Winnie used a thumb to wipe a tear from her eye. “I’m so glad, Stevie. You really picked up the pieces like a champ. You landed on your feet, but I guess I didn’t doubt you would. I can’t bear that we have to use all these covert avenues to communicate and that I can’t just pop in whenever I want to see you. But I’m happy that you’re fulfilled. I just wish I could help more with Westfield. I wish I had a spell or something—anything—that would lift this ban on your powers.”

  Stevie rested her chin in her hand. “You know, Winnie, I don’t know if I want them back anymore, to be really frank. I’ve had blips, like tonight. So I guess they’re not entirely gone-gone, but thinking about living for an indefinite period of time, losing human people I love along the way, kind of hurts. So I’m almost okay with it.”

  Winnie hopped off her stool and smoothed the wrinkles of her sundress with her hands. “Well, I’m still not. So even if you don’t ever use them again, you should have what you were born with, and if I can figure out a way to make that happen, I will. If you choose not to turn people into toads, that’s your prerogative.”

  Stevie took leave of her stool, too, with a chuckle. “I never turned anyone into a toad. Not intentionally. Well, there was that one time I turned a guy into a goat, but he’s happy now on a farm somewhere…”

  Winnie giggled, grabbing Stevie’s hand and pulling her into another hug. “I miss you, kiddo. I’m glad we had some time together. I’ll try and do it again sometime soon. Also, I’ll never walk into your parlor again without closing my eyes first—because talk about a make-out sesh.”

  Stevie gave her a warm hug back, walking her toward the front door. “I’m pretty surprised by that, to be honest. I never thought Melba would be Dana’s type or vice versa. But Dana deserves happiness after last summer’s tragedy. If it’s with the man on the moon, I’m okay with it.”

  Winnie dropped a quick kiss on Stevie’s cheek. “I love you, Stevie Cartwright. Stay safe.” With that, she snapped her fingers and, in a puff of purple smoke, she was gone.

  As Stevie made her way back to the kitchen and gathered their teacups to put in the sink, she sighed, and it sounded like it held deep longing.

  “Are you sad, Dove?”

  She lifted her shoulders and sighed again. “Maybe a little. But I meant what I said. I love my life here, Win. I truly do. I wouldn’t trade it. But I’d like to visit my friends and not be treated like some outcast. I just wish when I left Paris, it had been of my own volition. Not because I’ve been branded a stinky human.”

  “Oh, my little Vienna sausage, you are not stinky. You are perfect, and funny, and smart, and it is their loss if they do not wish for you to be in their pack of witches. It is because they dropped you like potato that we have you now. You listen. Arkady Bagrov knows.”

  She leaned back against the counter and looked upward. “You know what, Russian? I’d hug you right now if I could. I’d hug you hard.”

  Arkady—strong, bullish, alpha Arkady—blushed, his cheeks going a bright red.

  “And I would hug you back. So, what say you get some beauty sleeps and we start fresh in the morning. The little one will wake and you must be at your best for him, da?”

  Clearly deciding that was the best route to take, Stevie gave a quick nod of her head, scooping up a snoring Belfry from the counter and turning off the lights to the kitchen before she headed to the stairs.

  “Good night, Dove. The sweetest of dreams.”

  “Night, Win. You, too.”

  “Malutka?”

  “Russian?”

  “One question before you rest your pretty head.”

  “What’s that, Arkady?”

  “Did you really turn man into goat?”

  She stopped on the first step of the staircase and looked up at the ceiling with a sinister grin. “I did. Oh yes, I did, and I’d do it again. He was a dreadful, horrible weakling of a warlock. I have boundaries, buddy. Don’t cross ’em,” she warned.

  Arkady recoiled and hissed, his face ashen. I believe he’s still struggling with the idea our Stevie once had the kind of powers one only sees on the telly and in movies.

  “Is he good and freaked out, Win?” she called from the long hallway, her voice full of her special brand of sass.

  I smirked because I couldn’t help myself. “I do believe he is, Dove.”

  The echo of her giddy laughter swirled down the hall and into the stairwell, making Arkady cringe.

  Which made me laugh, too—almost until I couldn’t stand erect.

  Chapter 9

  “Morning, Liza!” Stevie chirped, striding through the back of the shop past the reading table with Whiskey hot on her heels to hand her favorite employee a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

  In order to protect the baby, we’d taken the back door to the shop for fear someone might be watching after last night’s attack—which we were still trying to understand. Where had he come from and why?

  Carmella had kindly offered to take Hardy back to her and Enzo’s after her dentist appointment, thus allowing Stevie to handle Madam Zoltar business later this morning. We’d taken an Uber, driven by one of Stevie’s favorite local college students, Aiden Benson. He’d often carted Stevie around during her last stint without a car.

  Liza, a lovely redhead, and Madam Zoltar’s granddaughter (who, by the way, had come a long way in her fashion choices since we’d met her one year ago), grinned when Stevie entered.

  She planted her hands on her hips and asked, “What the heck do you have there, lady?”

  “Oh, this little thing?” Stevie asked, looking down at a smiling Hardy in his car seat with shining eyes full of pride. “It’s a new purse. You like?”

  Liza chuckled, accepting her coffee with a grateful smile. “So who is this little guy?” she asked.

  Stevie set his carrier on the counter alongside the basket of healing crystals and grinned. “This is my cousin Winnie’s little boy, Hardy, and he’s the sweetest baby ever. I’m babysitting while she’s on a romantic getaway with her husband in Rome. Unfortunately, I won’t have a sitter for another hour or so. So I figured I’d come in and do some paperwork while I wait for Carmella to come get him.”

  Liza reached into the carrier and ran a finger down Hardy’s cheek. “Oh, Stevie… He’s just precious. Who’s so handsome, huh?” she cooed.

  Stevie smiled fondly, unbuckling Hardy from his seat and handing him his favorite blanket, which he accepted with the kind of zeal he accepted everything, if it came from Stevie.

  “He is precious, isn’t he?”

  Liza nodded approvingly with a dreamy-eyed gaze at Hardy. “Kind of makes you think about having one of your own, doesn’t it?”

  But Stevie flapped a hand at her and shook her head. “I’d have to have a prospect for a relationship before I considered that, don’t you think?”

  Liza frowned as she rearranged the essential oils one of the local shopkeepers had asked Stevie to display. “Well, not in this day and age, no. But what about you and Forrest? I thought you guys had a thing?”

  It was all I could do not to scoff out loud. Forrest was a touchy subject for us. It isn’t that I don’t think Forrest is all manner of gentleman. I do. I’m positive he’s an upstanding bloke. I just don’t believe he’s the bloke for Stevie, and there have been times when I admit I was crass enough to allude to as much.

  He doesn’t give the kind of freedom a woman lik
e my Stephania needs. And yes, before you think it, I do realize I’ve had my own hesitations about her running off to pursue a killer in the past.

  But my hesitations are merely for her physical safety. I don’t like it one bit that she’s gone head to head with killers, and she goes after them like a dog with a bone—almost to her detriment. Not at all, and I freely admit such. But that’s not all Forrest doesn’t approve of. I’m most certain he thinks Stevie’s quite kooky for declaring she talks to dead people. In fact, I’m quite certain a good deal of Ebenezer Falls thinks she’s touched in the head.

  I think the point is, her beliefs harm no one. How can she spend the rest of her life with a man if he doesn’t believe in what is essentially the core of her being? How could she ever confess to him she was once a witch without fear of reproach?

  Now of course, you all think I’m a jealous sod, and that may well be true at this point in our relationship. But I felt this way about Forrest long before I fell for…er, long before I came to care so deeply for our friendship.

  Stevie sighed, leaning an elbow on the counter. “We never really had a thing-thing. I like Forrest. You know I love Chester, but Forrest is a traditionalist, and I’m a little unconventional for someone like that, don’t you think?” Stevie asked, rubbing her chin on the top of Hardy’s soft head.

  See? Even my dove knows I speak the truth. And better, she knows her heart.

  Liza bounced her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “I get it. He’s a nice, dependable guy for sure, but sometimes, nice isn’t enough. A little mystery is always sexy—keeps you on your toes. Maybe someone rough around the edges with a good moral compass is more your cup of tea?”

  “Exactly!” Stevie said with a smile as she reached for her Madam Zoltar turban on the shelf and placed it on her head before taking Hardy from his carrier. “I can’t be what Forrest needs in a girlfriend. That’s all I can tell you. We parted on decent enough terms, and anyway, I hear he’s dating the yoga teacher. And he doesn’t seem to mind at all that Chester and I have lunch at least once or twice a week. So, no harm, no foul, all’s well that ends well and so on.”