Wishful Wisteria (Wisteria Witches Mysteries - Daybreak Book 3)

by Angela Pepper

  “Yes,” he said, holding very still, except for his eyes, which were narrowing. “I thought you should know, since you talk about her all the time.”

  “I talk about the show all the time. She’s just the actress who plays one of the characters we all love to hate.”

  “People hate her?”

  “The character, not the actress. She’s lovely, I’m sure.”

  He frowned. “You’re not upset?”

  “I’m a little upset I missed dinner, thanks to your inability to keep your hands off me.” That wasn’t exactly how things had happened, but it felt right to blame him, since, between the two of us, he was the sexy, irresistible vampire.

  “I thought maybe you knew and hadn’t said anything,” he said. “Like with Persephone.”

  “Honestly, I did not know.”

  “Then why wouldn’t you let me talk about her?”

  I looked down for a pebble to kick. We were inside Bentley’s place, where there were no pebbles.

  “I dunno,” I lied.

  “You told me to never let you wriggle out of telling the truth when you’re talking to me.”

  “Oh. Right.” I looked up into his eyes.

  His gaze was so intense, I actually felt sorry for any future suspects he’d be interrogating.

  “What’s the issue?” He leaned in toward me. “I had one thing left unspoken for far too long, and I believe I’m not the only one.”

  “Fine,” I said, then I coughed out the words one at a time. “You’re. My. First. Boyfriend.”

  “And?”

  I laughed. “And that’s it.”

  “That’s it?”

  I shrugged. “You’re older than me, so it’s not that weird. But you were married. And you probably had a whole bunch of girlfriends before you got married, too. And what have I got?”

  “You’ve got me.”

  “But it’s not fair. You’re way better at this than I am. You’ve had infinitely more relationship experience than me. All I’ve got is one blurry night that led to Zoey.” Technically a lie. The night had been drunken, but not blurry.

  “You mean you haven’t...” He trailed off as he pulled back from me.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no. I haven’t.” I patted my chest. “All I’ve got is some odds and ends from various ghosts, plus this stupid lingering heartbreak over Chet Moore moving away, because part of my stupid heart, or brain, or soul, or whatever thinks he and I were in love.”

  He looked at me for a long moment, then said, “There’s nothing stupid about heartbreak, or, Zara, about your heart, or brain, or soul, or whatever. Love is love. There are no training requirements.”

  I blinked up at him. “Look at you, with all the right words. You must have been a poet in another lifetime.”

  He gazed back at me, unwavering. “I have plenty of words, if someone is ready to listen.”

  “I’m more of an action person than a listening person.”

  He reached for my hands and held them in his, against his chest. “And I love that about you.”

  “Cool.” My hands felt small inside his, like flower buds.

  He suddenly pulled me toward him, into his arms. “I’m not going to say it,” he said, breathing into my hair then inhaling deeply.

  I giggled nervously. “What?” My voice pitched way up. I sounded like a teenaged girl.

  “If I say it, you’ll lose interest,” he murmured near my ear. “You don’t like things that are too easy.”

  “You are so weird. I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” I lied, for the third time. So much for my bond to never lie to him. My last honesty oath had worn off completely.

  He still had his arms around me, and the heat between our bodies was rising.

  His voice deep and husky, he asked, “What time does bowling start?”

  “We have to leave soon, or we’ll be late.”

  “Then I guess we’re going to be late,” he said, and he pulled me tighter. I softened into his embrace.

  He swept my hair back, and his breath was hot on my neck.

  Chapter 41

  I was in for a surprise when we got to Shady Lanes Bowling and Ales.

  Archer Caine was there, selecting rental shoes. And he’d brought a date.

  “Zara, I believe you know Carrot Greyson,” he said.

  The orange-haired young woman with the buggy eyes grinned at me the way a mouse might grin at a cat from behind sturdy glass. She had changed clothes since I’d seen her at the library that day. She no longer wore the paint-flecked smock and overalls with the kerchief over her hair. She looked chic and modernly edgy, in a tight-fitting black wrap dress that showed off her colorful tattoos.

  My gaze went to the prowling cat on her upper chest, then to her cleavage, and down over her angular but well-proportioned hips and legs, then back up to her eyes.

  “Girl, you clean up good,” I said, blushing over the ogling I’d just given her. I’d eyeballed her like Ribbons eyed my grocery bags. Not that I was entirely to blame. It was the rune mage’s fault for having so many pretty tattoos and artwork begging to be looked at.

  Archer slung one arm around Carrot’s shoulders. “Zara, Carrot and I are officially dating.”

  “That’s great news!” I yanked her away from Archer and gave the young woman a hug. All the hugs with Persephone earlier had put me into a hugging mood. Life was too short to not hug people whenever and wherever you could.

  “I was going to tell you today, but I really got into my mural. Literally.”

  “And it’s a gorgeous mural!” I squeezed tighter. “Since you’re here, does this mean you’re joining our bowling team?”

  “If you’ll have me,” she squeaked in my ear, like a squeaky toy.

  I released her from the hug.

  When she pulled away, she said, “I used to be on the Incredibowls, but I don’t work at City Hall anymore, so someone else took my spot.”

  “Their loss is our gain,” I said.

  I turned to Archer, who was staring at me in shock, and I punched him playfully on the arm. “Look at you! Narrowing your options down to just one lady.” My gaze flitted between the two of them. “You are exclusive, right? Or is that rude to ask? I don’t know. I’ve had a lot of firsts lately. The father of my daughter is dating someone. That’s a first. I’m just so happy. I don’t even know what to do with my hands. Can I hug you again? I feel like we’re family now. All of us.”

  Carrot held out her skinny, tattooed arms tentatively.

  I really didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I hugged her again, lifting her right off the ground.

  I wasn’t normally so grabby and huggy, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was thrilled that my daughter’s father had narrowed down his dating field to just one woman. Plus, I liked Carrot. Granted, she did have terrible taste in men, having dated two murderers—two that we knew of, or three, if Archer’s self-defense actions were counted as homicides—but I sincerely hoped her luck had turned around.

  I released her, and we got down to the business of bowling.

  Carrot had also brought along a friend she worked with at her tattoo studio, so we had a total of six people on our team. We would need a total of eight bowlers to qualify as an official league team, with at least seven of those members showing up in order for the evening’s score to count toward a running average. With fewer than seven, we were still welcome to play, but strongly encouraged to rustle up more players for the following Friday.

  We were assigned to the lane next to my aunt and her coworkers. Everyone on our team and on the Incredibowls were getting along and laughing together right from the first gutter ball—thrown by me. After I had warmed up, I introduced Persephone to my aunt as my half-sister. Zinnia pretended to be surprised by the news.

  My aunt’s City Hall team, The Incredibowls, were formidable bowlers. My own newly formed team, which didn’t even have a name yet, didn’t stand a chance against the crew from the Wisteria P
ermits Department.

  During the break after our first game, both teams shared a table, and ordered several platters of deep-fried foods and beer.

  After a whole lot of hinting, the group agreed to do a thorough round of official introductions—the supernatural kind.

  Zinnia cast a bubble of privacy around our table. This had a nice side effect of helping us hear each other more clearly over the clattering balls and pins.

  We started the round.

  Carrot Greyson went first. “Hi, everyone. As some of you already know, I’ve recently discovered that I am a Rune Mage.” She gave her date, Archer, a look that was sweeter than a jar full of red jelly beans. “My handsome genie boyfriend has been helping me explore my powers.”

  Archer cried out, “Spoiler alert!” When the group didn’t immediately laugh at his joke, he turned to Carrot. “Did I say that right? It is called spoiler alert, isn’t it?” The genie had been out of touch with the regular world for the past sixteen years, so he had good reason to be uncertain about popular culture.

  Carrot patted him on his shoulder. “You said it right. They just haven’t gotten to know you like I have, and they’re all scared of your genie powers.”

  I chimed in helpfully, “Plus, you look exactly like the man they know as Chet Moore.”

  “No, I don’t,” Archer said. “I changed my hair. People hardly ever mistake me for that other guy now.” He made air quotes. “My cousin, Chet.”

  His hair, indeed, had changed. It was now bleached a platinum blonde, and spiked. He looked like the singer from some alternative band that hit its peak a decade earlier. He still looked a lot like Chet to me, except for the key difference that Archer always looked pleased with himself and happy to be wherever he was.

  People chattered about Archer’s hair a moment, assuring him it was a good look for a man his age, then we all laughed, because technically he was so much older than any of us.

  Bentley went next. “Theodore Dean Bentley,” he said with a curt nod. “Creature of the grave.” He shot me a private-joke look, then added, “Vampire.”

  Heads bobbed. Most, if not all, of them already knew.

  I pointed at him. “And, what he didn’t tell you, is that he’s the former husband of Larissa Lang, the actress,” I said proudly.

  The others made surprised, excited sounds. They hadn’t know about that.

  I pointed at myself. “Hi, everyone. I’m Zara Riddle, as you probably know. I’m just a novice witch, and a librarian, and the proud single mom of a straight-A student.”

  My aunt cut in, “She’s more than just a novice.”

  “Thank you.” I felt my cheeks burning as I leaned back on the vinyl-upholstered stackable chair and let the others go.

  Carrot introduced her friend from the tattoo studio, and then it was Persephone’s turn. My sister’s turn.

  “I’m Zara’s half-sister,” she said. “Perse—”

  I interrupted, “I thought we were dropping the half? And just saying sister?”

  She bulged her eyes at me in a bratty way and restarted. “I’m Zara’s sister, Persephone Diamante Rose.”

  I squealed. “We have the same middle name?”

  “Yes. We can talk about it later,” she said, and she resumed the introduction. We would talk about our middle name and namesake relative another time.

  The Incredibowls were next. They were:

  Zinnia Riddle, witch, and Head of Wisteria Permits Department Division of Special Buildings.

  Margaret Mills, witch, and recent divorcee, with a new secret boyfriend whom the others hadn’t met yet.

  Dawna Jones, cartomancer, designer purse collector, and owner of an unspecified number of cats.

  Gavin Gorman, gnome, fashionable dresser, Dawna’s boyfriend as of that moment, and resident of the Candy Factory, where my friend Frank also resided.

  Karl Kormac, sprite, and manager of the Permits Department.

  Liza Gilbert, a self-proclaimed Red Shirt with no magical powers.

  Xavier Batista, also a self-proclaimed Red Shirt, but with unknown magical powers that “hadn’t yet manifested.”

  When they were done, Archer Caine pointed out something I’d missed in all the excitement. “That’s only seven people in the Incredibowls,” he said. “You’re not an official league team unless you have eight. Who’s missing?”

  A gloom fell over the group, and the City Hall gang exchanged furtive glances.

  Dawna spoke for the group, “We lost two people earlier this year.”

  I locked gazes with Zinnia, whose eyes were glistening. I knew about the tragedy that had happened at their workplace.

  Karl said, “We still have a few months to find a replacement member, and I’m confident in my team’s ability to complete a task, once they set their minds to it.”

  Everyone grew very quiet.

  I looked over at Carrot, who was dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

  The night had taken a bad turn. Someone had to turn the ship around, and fast.

  I pushed my chair back and said, “This evening deserves a toast.”

  The others agreed. Everyone refilled their beer glasses from the pitchers.

  “To new friends,” I said. “And to the old ones, too. To all the souls we have loved and lost, who have brought us all together, and bound us in ways we’ll never know.”

  “Cheers,” they all said, and we clinked our glasses.

  Chapter 42

  By the time the manager of Shady Lanes Bowling and Ales finally decided to kick us out, it was well past closing time.

  The woman crossed her arms and said gruffly, “Folks, you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

  Karl Kormac got to his feet with a loud groan, then yawned just as noisily. The yawn was contagious, and radiated out from Patient Zero in an impressive, almost magical ripple of yawns big and small.

  We all got to our feet and then, suddenly aware of the mess we’d made across two big tables, pushed around the empty glasses and chip bag wrappers fruitlessly.

  The manager barked again for us to get out. “I’m serious! The rental on those shoes has expired. Now get your butts out the door. You have ten minutes, or you’ll be polishing the pins and balls.”

  “She’s not joking,” the young City Hall charmer named Xavier said gravely. “She really will make us polish the pins and balls.”

  We got moving. Our whole group did the Shoe Dance, laughing and grabbing onto each other for balance as we half-walked, half-hopped to the shoe rental counter.

  Outside, the temperature was pleasant in spite of the light drizzle that hastened our goodbyes.

  Our numbers dwindled to four: me, Bentley, Persephone, Zinnia.

  I checked my phone messages.

  There was a full report from my daughter about her Friday night activities.

  I said to Persephone, “Looks like our mutual parent is currently at my house, teaching my impressionable daughter—your impressionable niece—how to win at gambling.”

  Persephone’s big brown eyes twinkled. “If you’re going to gamble anyway, it’s better to win.” She looked proud of her father, which made me feel proud of him.

  I asked my sister, “Do you want to come back to the house and freak him out? He doesn’t know that I know about you.”

  She twisted her bangs around one finger. “It’s getting late. I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

  “You can meet Zoey,” I said. “You should meet your niece.”

  She dropped her hand and smiled. “I would like that.”

  Zinnia chimed in, “You’ll love her.”

  Bentley added, “She’s a remarkable young woman.”

  I waved both hands excitedly. “Hang on, everyone. I’m getting a psychic premonition.” I held my fingers to my temples like a cheesy stage performer. “I predict that when Zoey meets Persephone, she’s going be christened... Aunty P.”

  “Yes,” Zinnia said. “I agree. You’ll be Aunty P.”

&nb
sp; Persephone said, “Some people call me Sephie.”

  Three of us tilted our heads and looked at Persephone in the light of this news. She didn’t look like a Sephie to me, but perhaps the nickname would grow on me as I got to know her.

  Bentley said, “I haven’t heard anyone at work call you that.”

  “It’s mostly people who knew me as a kid,” she said.

  “I’ll keep calling you Rose,” Bentley said.

  We all nodded as we stood in the drizzle of the Shady Lanes parking lot. I felt the world changing, and time passing.

  Zinnia broke the quiet. “We ought to leave for your house now, unless you would prefer to stand in the rain a bit longer.”

  “No, no. I’ve had enough drizzle,” I said, laughing. “Let’s all go back to my place.”

  I loved that Zinnia assumed she was also invited back to my place. A few months earlier, I would have had to insist that we wanted her to join in, and assure her she was a welcome part of the family. I might have had to beg and cajole, even. My relationship with my aunt had grown. All the relationships in my life had expanded wonderfully.

  Bentley wrapped his arm around my waist, then gently steered me toward the car. “Enough with the rain,” he said.

  I felt some resistance to leave my sister, even for the brief time it would take us to drive in separate cars to my house.

  I pulled away from Bentley. “Persephone, you should drive with me so we can plan what to say to Rhys! He’s going to be so surprised.” I asked Bentley, “Would you drive her car so it’s at the house?”

  “Your wish is my command,” he said gallantly.

  * * *

  While Persephone and I drove to car to the house, we planned how to prank our mutual parent.

  Both of us cackled over our delicious plan. Persephone cackled almost as well as a witch, which was a compliment I paid her, and a compliment she didn’t quite know how to take.

  We got to the house, and found my father and his granddaughter in the dining room, playing poker and placing bets with stacks of chips. Not poker chips. Stacks of actual fried potato slices.

  Zoey already knew about Persephone, thanks to me giving her a heads-up earlier that day.

  “Rhys, Zoey, this is Bentley’s partner from work,” I said. “Her name is Petunia Roth.”