“Where is Clinton Dickskin?” I asked the troll, taking the sort of tone I used when interrogating, punishing actually, souls in hell.
Both women flinched. Alberta whimpered, then seemed to get control of herself.
“Clinton is missing? When did he go missing?”
Fae. They couldn’t lie, but they could dance around the truth like nobody’s business. One of the reasons I avoided them like the plague.
“Did you put Clinton’s blood into Lucien’s hotel room?” Cassie took over. Again I imagined her questioning witnesses in the courtroom, setting her ex’s pants on fire. This needed to wrap up and soon so I could get her back home and into bed.
“No, I didn’t put Clinton’s blood into Lucien’s hotel room,” Alberta squeaked.
“Were you there when someone else put Clinton’s blood into Lucien’s hotel room?”
“No.”
“Do you know who put Clinton’s blood into Lucien’s hotel room?”
“No. I wasn’t there. I don’t know who did that. Check with Dallas, or someone in his pack. I was there last night outside the tavern when Lucien and Clinton fought. When they all scattered, I picked up the coin Lucien dropped.” She shot the demon a nervous glance. “It wasn’t stealing. When you lose something, it’s fair game.”
I didn’t care. The damned thing didn’t seem to be working, and it wasn’t like I was in a hurry to return to hell any time in the near future. I was more curious how it had gotten out of my pocket without my removing it.
“So you went back inside to have a drink with Lucien and John, then left them to head to your hidey-hole?” Cassie asked, her eyes narrowing.
The troll squirmed. “No. I had it in my pocket for a while.”
“Where did you go directly after the fight at the tavern?”
She glared. “I’m not telling you. That’s private. It’s none of your business.”
“I can make you tell me, Alberta, but I’d prefer not to. Where did you go directly after the fight at the tavern?”
I glanced at Cassie in surprise. Had she just threatened to go all law-and-order on the troll? Was she finally taking her place as head witch of this town? If that was the case, then I was definitely staying. Cassie in bed with me was incredible. Cassie as a witch, partnering with me, sharing energy in spells, was just as incredible. Seeing her like this—confident, skilled, taking charge… It made me realize I wanted more than a partnership with this witch, I wanted an eternity.
Alberta didn’t find Cassie’s threat as erotically compelling as I did. The troll puffed up her chest and glared back at the witch. “That’s illegal. You can’t do that to me. The sheriff would need to arrest me, and I’d get a lawyer—a lawyer that isn’t you. And there’s no cause to arrest me.”
“Technically you’re right. Our law enforcement is modeled on a human system, and since Grandma’s death, there hasn’t been any deviation from that system.” Cassie took a step forward, her foot crossing the threshold. “Until now. You can tell me or I can make you tell me. Those are your options, and afterward if you want to go complain to the sheriff, you can. But remember that living in Accident is a privilege, Alberta. It’s a privilege that can easily be revoked if I find there’s been a murder and you’ve not cooperated with the investigation.”
The expression on the troll’s face said everything. Cassie had done it. She’d just taken her place as the witch that ran things in this town. There was no backing down for her now.
Or for me.
“I’m not involved in a murder.” The troll’s voice was a panicked whisper. “Don’t kick me out, Cassie. Don’t. I’m not involved in any murder. I picked up the coin, then I joined my lover for a while. I don’t want to name who that is because there are complications—complications that can get them seriously hurt or even killed. Please don’t force me to tell you who I was with. And please don’t kick me out of the town.”
Cassie’s expression momentarily softened. “I don’t want to kick you out Alberta. And I don’t want to get your lover strung up for cheating on his or her wife with you. There was a lot of blood in that hotel room. We’re worried about Clinton. He might be a total ass, but he’s still a resident of this town and we need to make sure he’s okay.”
The troll began to cry. Huge watery tears soaked her face and the front of her shirt. It was like watching a river pour down someone’s face. Cassie dug in her pockets for a Kleenex, handing it over to Alberta. It didn’t help much. With a few gulps, the troll got control of herself, wiping her face with the sodden, shredded tissue.
“I hate Clinton. I hate him. But I’m not a murderer. I’m not,” she insisted with a warble in her voice. “I’m telling you right now that I didn’t kill him. I can’t lie. I’m a fae and I can’t lie. I didn’t kill Clinton.”
“Okay, okay. I believe you,” Cassie patted her on the shoulder. “So after you left your lover? Then what? Tell me what happened?”
Alberta swallowed hard. “After we parted, I went to take my treasure to my special place. And crossing the deadfall, I snagged my bracelet and dropped the coin. I went to my special place and realized that I’d lost the coin. Then I came straight back to my bridge here, and didn’t leave for the rest of the night.”
I was sure she was telling the truth, but something about the way she’d worded it bothered me. Was this really what had happened. Did Alberta have nothing to do with Clinton? Had she just picked up the fallen coin, gone to rock the sheets with whoever she was banging, then gone to stash the coin in her secret place?
Cassie eyed the troll. “So you didn’t see Clinton Dickskin again after the fight outside the tavern was over?”
“Last time I saw Clinton Dickskin, he was alive. He was bloody and had the crap beaten out of him, but he was alive. If he’s dead, then I had nothing to do with it,” Alberta proclaimed.
Which wasn’t exactly what Cassie had asked. She thanked the troll for her cooperation and we headed back to her car.
“She knows what happened to Clinton.” I mused. “He was alive when she last saw him, but maybe someone killed him after that—someone who was also responsible for dumping a bucket of the werewolf’s blood on the floor of my hotel room.”
Cassie nodded. “I agree. I could pry the information out of her, but I really don’t want to burn that bridge right now, and I’m not sure what sort of magical toll it would take on me to ferret answers out of a reluctant fae.”
“With my help? Not much of a toll at all.” I halted her, taking her arms in my hands. “Cassie, your magic calls to me. It begs me to share myself with you. This is the bond between a witch and a demon. This is why covens over the centuries have summoned demons. This is why a bonding, a partnership with a demon is so valuable—for both of us.”
She reached out to put her hands on my waist. “It’s not just the magical toll, Lucien. I don’t want to do that to Alberta. I don’t want to start off throwing my witch-weight around like that. I don’t want people in this town to be afraid of me, like I’m some powerful dictator with a demon to back me up. Yes, I’ll use force if absolutely necessary. But that needs to be a last result, not my first action. Does that make sense?”
No, but if that’s the way she wanted to run her town, then I wasn’t going to argue. Things were different in hell, but I wasn’t in hell. And I was more interested in supporting Cassie and being her partner in all ways then arguing with her about the proper use of forceful magic.
I kissed her lightly, giving her bottom lip a quick nip with my teeth as I pulled away. “Okay, sweetheart. Just know that I’m here and ready to go whenever you need me. Like a demon battery.”
“Hopefully one of those go-all-night batteries.” She smacked my ass and headed to the driver’s side of the car. “But that’s later—after we find Clinton Dickskin.”
I was suddenly very motivated to find Clinton Dickskin.
“So Alberta saw Clinton after the fight, and he was alive,” I commented as we drove away from the troll’
s bridge. “Am I reading that right? Troll speak?”
“You’re reading that right.” Cassie turned the car away from town and back toward the forest. “She’s got a forbidden lover she can’t, or won’t, name—one that she saw after the fight and before she went to hide my coin with her other treasures. By her timeline, she would have had to have seen Clinton while she was with her ‘lover’, while she was over at the deadfall, or afterward when she was home the rest of the night.”
“Let’s consider the first one,” I said. “Clinton is her secret lover. She gets carried away and seriously injures him. Hides him in a panic while he’s still clinging to life, then frames me for it with a bucket of blood.”
“She didn’t have anything to do with or knowledge about the bucket of blood,” Cassie corrected me. “Fae can’t lie, and even if she could, I believe Alberta on that one. Besides, as rough as trolls can get in the sack, and I do not know that from personal experience, werewolves are hardy. She wouldn’t have almost killed Clinton banging him, especially the night before the full moon when the wolves are at their strongest.”
I shrugged. “She just said she was with her lover, not what they were doing. What if she was out at another bar with this lover, and Clinton happened to be there all beat up?”
“Then she would have used the bar as an alibi and not risk exposing her ‘lover’,” Cassie countered. “If she took the risk to mention the lover, then she was probably alone with him or her and that’s her only alibi.”
“Okay. Scenario two, she saw Clinton at the deadfall.” I ticked the number off on my fingers. “She was dropping off her treasure, and there he was.”
“Doing what? What would Clinton be doing out there?” Cassie snorted. “It was the night before the full moon. He’d be either fighting, hunting, or screwing.”
“Hunting?” I suggested. “Tracking a deer and he runs across Alberta?”
“Maybe she was on her way, ran into Clinton, then got freaked out that he’d know where she stashed her treasures?”
“And killed him rather than have him reveal her secrets?” I nodded. “She claims she didn’t have anything to do with the blood at my hotel room, but maybe she killed Clinton, freaked out and told her lover, and this lover covered it all up for her?”
Cassie laughed. “First off, although I’m positive that trolls can kill, and that under the right circumstances, Alberta could kill, I don’t think she’d whack Clinton over that. Especially because Clinton wouldn’t give a crap about her treasure stuff. Alberta doesn’t even register on his radar. Besides if he saw her hidey hole, she’d just move her stuff elsewhere, not attack him. And as I said before, Clinton is a werewolf one night away from the monthly event that makes shifters pretty close to unbeatable. Alberta is young for a troll. There’s a slim chance she could have prevailed, but she would have been sporting a whole lot of cuts and bruises.”
I nodded. “Maybe she had help. Her and her lover were out at the deadfall or wherever her secret stash is. They run across Clinton. Kill him, or almost kill him. Leave him in the woods and the lover covers it up.”
Cassie bit her lip, a frown creasing her forehead. With a deft twist of the wheel, she turned the car down a side road. “I still don’t think Alberta would kill or even whack Clinton over his knowing where her hidey-hole is.”
“But his knowing who her lover is…?” I shot Cassie a knowing glance.
“I can’t see Clinton giving two shits about a married guy cheating on his spouse with Alberta, but maybe in a panic…” She shook her head. “None of these sounds right to me, but I’m concerned enough that Clinton may be lying in the woods bleeding out a few hundred yards from that deadfall that I’m going to head back and check things out more thoroughly. Got any more theories, hellboy?”
“I have all the theories,” I told her. “Scenario three, or is it four, is where Alberta sees Clinton going out to her treasure spot, they hook up, and he spends the night with her. He’s right now at her hidey hole in a sex coma, waiting for Alberta to come back with bacon and eggs for round two.”
Cassie burst out laughing. “Okay, that’s one that I actually like.”
I waved a finger, making an additional point. “Alberta wouldn’t mention where Clinton is because her other forbidden lover might get jealous. I’ll bet he turns up in a few hours minus his pants, a shit-eating grin on his face.”
She chuckled. “Except none of that explains Clinton’s blood in your bedroom. He doesn’t roll like that sexually, and Alberta denied having anything to do with that. Besides, Clinton isn’t exactly Alberta’s type. Although I’m the first to admit shifters have a certain sort of appeal.”
I let out a growl at that statement.
“Not as much appeal as demons,” she added with a grin.
Good. “So you think Clinton may be out in the woods somewhere?”
“Possibly.” She glanced over at me. “That offer you made? The one about helping me with a spell? Think I’d like to take you up on that.”
“A spell to get the truth out of Alberta?” I asked.
“No, a spell to see where she’s been.”
I nodded. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”
“She only said she saw him alive. That could have been after someone drained a gallon of blood out of him,” Cassie said. “It fits the timeline better if she stumbled across him while returning from her treasure spot.”
“So Alberta came across a terribly injured Clinton in the woods and just walked away?” I shook my head. “Wow, and they call us demons.”
“You’re right. I can’t see her doing that.” Cassie frowned in thought. “I can’t see her just leaving him lying there, but in all honestly, trolls don’t think of physical injury the same way that humans, or even werewolves do. Her idea of medical care would have been…interesting.”
I reached out to rest my hand on her thigh. “I’ve gotta say, this has got to be the most fun I’ve had since the French revolution. Bring it on Cassie. What’s our next step here? How are you going to do this spell?”
“Some rocks. You. And…” She winked and held up her hand. “This.”
“A hair?”
“A troll hair to be exact. Alberta’s troll hair.”
“You stole a hair. You stood there in her doorway and…what, plucked it out of her head? Off her sweater? What?”
“I’m not revealing my hair-stealing secrets to you,” she teased. “Anyway, we’re going to go back to the deadfall. I’m going to cast a spell with your help. And we’re going to trace that troll’s steps. Maybe we’ll find a cave full of treasure. Maybe we’ll find an injured werewolf. Maybe we’ll find nothing.”
I nodded. “I’ve got a feeling in my leathery wings we’re going to find something.”
“So do I, hellboy.” She nodded. “So do I.”
Chapter 16
Cassandra
The moment I’d announced I was going to do a spell, I’d felt this electric charge. Something about crossing this line energized me. And it seemed to have done the same to Lucien. It was as if I’d been talking dirty, or promising him sexual favors. He’d sucked in a breath, and barely been able to keep his eyes from me as I drove to the deadfall. As soon as we got out of my car, he’d come around the side and walked close to me, heat radiating off his body. I swear I could feel his wings, feel the intensity of his demonic energy. It stirred my blood, made me want to screw him in the back seat of my car. But I had a spell to do and a werewolf, alive or dead, to find, and something about that was just as sexually charged as the idea of fucking Lucien in my car.
I’d come woefully unprepared for this. Bronwyn and Ophelia carried spell components with them all the time. I obviously didn’t. But unlike my sisters, I could work my shit on the fly. It would be difficult. It would take more energy. But it could be done. And with this demon next to me, charging me up and making me feel breathless and aware, I felt as if I could rule the world.
“I’m so going to fuck you after th
is,” he breathed as I gathered some stones and sticks and arranged them in the appropriate fashion.
“Are you like this with all the witches, or just me?” I teased. Sorta teased. I’ll admit this sort of fascination and attention was heady, but I’d been burned before. It would suck if he just got it on with any witch he came across, much like Marcus had got it on with any female, or male, he’d come across.
He hesitated. “There’s an undeniable attraction between demons and witches. It’s been going on since time began. Every demon’s dream is to be summoned into a coven, to gather those witches to his side and experience the joy that happens every time they cast a spell, every time they offer their bodies to him or her. There’s something electric about a witch that every demon longs to experience.”
My heart fell a few feet. “And there’s seven of us in this town. We’re like a buffet here.”
He grabbed my arm and pulled me over, gathering me into his arms. “You’re more than some damned buffet, Cassie. I knew the moment I met you that there was something special between us—something once-in-a-lifetime between us. You’re more than just a witch. You’re more than a coven of witches. You’re someone to walk by my side, to share the joy of hell with.”
Hell? Wasn’t sure I wanted to think about what he might mean about that one. “So you’d consider an exclusive physical and emotional relationship?” Because after Marcus, there’s no way I could deal with sharing anyone I cared about. Next time there would be more than pants set on fire here.
Lucien grinned then kissed me. When he finally let me up for air, he placed his forehead against mine. “Do your magic witch. Let me soak it all in. Let me savor every moment of it all. And tonight, when we’re alone, I’ll return the favor.”
I pulled away, flustered. I’d had some really damned good sex with Marcus, but nothing like this—nothing like the sense of connection, or worshipful admiration that I got from this demon.
Brimstone and Broomsticks: Accidental Witches Book 1 Page 14