Winds of Change

by Nova Nelson

  It all came down to this. Did we go upstairs or into the tiny, under-decorated living room?

  More importantly, which way did I want to go?

  Upstairs. Definitely upstairs. Duh. Why was I even wondering? Stupid.

  Tanner veered into the living room.

  Oh thank Gaia.

  “Let’s hear it,” he said, flopping down on his overstuffed couch, leaning back, and spreading out. He patted the cushion next to him.

  Settling in, I jumped into it. “That breeze that blew in right after the judges tasted our entry—”

  “Our award-winning entry,” he corrected with a sexy half-grin.

  “Right. That wind was, like, chock full of ghosts.”

  The upturned corner of his lips went slack as his eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. “Come again?”

  “Just brimming with them. Ghosts galore.”

  His head remained still, but his eyes darted around the room. “Are there ghosts with us right now?”

  “Nope.”

  His rigid posture relaxed. “So, where did the ghosts go?”

  “Yeah, that’s the thing. They attached themselves to the High Council. Well, all but Sebastian and Liberty.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I could tell it would take a second for it to sink in, so I gave him some space until he could ask a follow-up question. He came through with, “Why?”

  “As far as I can tell, to lecture them.”

  “Lecture them? Someone conjured lecturing spirits?”

  “I guess so.”

  “And who would do that?”

  I thought about the High Council’s less-than-stellar approval ratings, the unofficial kind, which I’d gathered from the complaints I heard from loyal customers at Medium Rare, and felt like saying, “Who wouldn’t want to conjure a bunch of spirits to lecture elected officials non-stop?” I mean, heck, if that power was readily available back in my home world, we might’ve ended up with nobler politicians.

  Or more mentally unhinged ones (if that’s even possible). Guess it’s a toss-up, really.

  “Not sure yet,” I said. “And after talking with Siobhan, I think the spirits attached to each council member might be their ancestors. At least that was the case for her.”

  “Good golem,” he breathed. “That’s something else. And you said it happened right after the competition?”

  I nodded, knowing what conclusion he was working toward because I’d already worked my way to it on the walk over.

  “You remember when Monster hawked up that hairball into the taste enhancer potion and Grim and I switched bodies?” he said.

  “And I spent an afternoon hearing Grim speak through your mouth? Yeah, that’s a scar on my psyche forever.”

  “Right. Same. Do you think someone could have tampered with the queso? Added something or replaced an ingredient that caused it to summon spirits?”

  It was possible, certainly. Why someone would do that was a whole other question. “Sure, I don’t see why not. I’m not thrilled with the idea of our entry being responsible, but the timing is suspicious.”

  He stared at the wall over my shoulder for only a few seconds, and I let him without interruption. “Okay,” he said. “So, five of the seven council members are, let’s say, cursed with the spirits of their ancestors paying them a visit. Who are the most obvious suspects? Who would want to do that?”

  I shrugged. “Most people? But Liberty and Malavic weren’t affected. Bloom already informed me that neither genies nor vampires can cross over into the astral plane, meaning neither Liberty nor Sebastian could be affected. Most people in Eastwind probably know that about genies and vampires, right?” I asked.

  “Yep.”

  “So, if anyone was targeting the High Council, they would know those two would be spared, therefore, they’re not the targets.”

  He nodded along. “But it doesn’t rule them out as the ones who did it.”

  “Right,” I said. The possibilities swam circles in my mind, and the exhaustion from the day began to fade. “Let’s say it’s the queso that did it. We know Sebastian had access to it in the tent, but did Liberty?”

  Tanner’s brows pinched together. “I don’t think so. He was sort of all over the place with the festivities. I doubt he would have taken the time to dodge into the tent and curse the queso. He was over at the dunking booth, then he headed straight to the hitching post, then I’m pretty sure he went directly to the stage for the competition. Sebastian, though. Yes. He had full access.” Tanner seemed as amped up by the process as I was, as he clutched his knee and chewed his lip, nodding slowly at our progress.

  “Guess we have our first suspect. I just wish we could narrow down the time frame for when it was tampered with. I mean, I tasted the queso myself yesterday morning, but since I already see ghosts, it wouldn’t be anything out of the usual for me. And I might be impervious to it since my ancestors aren’t from Eastwind. Maybe they can’t cross worlds.”

  “Maybe,” he said, but there was a slight friction to the word. He sighed. “I guess I should just come clean.”

  I swallowed, holding my tongue, and he closed his eyes and continued. “I snuck some of the queso.” Cracking open a single eyelid, he added. “Just a little. I’m sorry, Nora! It smelled so good.”

  I decided not to point out how he and Grim had shown similar limits to their self-control. Instead, I asked, “And?”

  That didn’t seem to be the question he was expecting, and he opened both his eyes then, squinting at me. “And what?”

  “And what’d you think?”

  He nodded reverently and replied, hardly more than a whisper. “It was incredible.”

  I decided to forgive the transgression because, honestly, I’d suspected he would give it a try. Heck, I would’ve if I were him. “Darn right it was. When did you sneak a taste?”

  “You’re not mad?”

  I waved him off. “I’d only be mad if you said you didn’t like it.”

  “Yesterday morning before I left for errands. I snuck into the freezer, grabbed a spoonful and reheated it magically. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I knew I shouldn’t and that you still had work to do on it before it’d be ready, but I just had to.”

  While I doubted it was just one, I didn’t press him for the truth; it didn’t matter. “Okay, if it was the queso, then that means whatever was added or whatever enchantment was cast on it had to happen sometime between when you snuck that taste yesterday and when the judges ate it. Who do we know had access to it during that time?”

  “Count Malavic,” he said.

  “Who’s already a suspect.”

  “And I guess Anton had access, but—”

  We met each other’s eyes and at the same time said, “Nah.”

  “He wouldn’t do anything to hurt Medium Rare,” I said with some certainty.

  “And he’s too good of friends with Octavia Pantagruel on the Council. I think they grew up in neighboring caves. Doesn’t make any sense for him to do something like that that would affect his friend.”

  I considered the next statement thoroughly before I posed it, knowing Tanner wouldn’t go for it and it might bring up some issues I didn’t want to address at present. But it was necessary all the same. “When we went to drop off the queso, I noticed that Franco’s Pizza hadn’t come by yet. The space underneath their sign was empty. That means whoever dropped it off might’ve had access to ours. If they really wanted to win—”

  “No way,” said Tanner firmly. “Donovan wouldn’t do that just to beat us.”

  “Um, first of all, I never specifically said it was Donovan. Could have been Trinity or anyone, really.”

  “But I know you hate Donovan, so that’s where you were going.”

  “I don’t hate him,” I snapped.

  He backtracked. “Okay, maybe hate is too strong of a word, but you and him have never liked each other. That’s pretty obvious. Does it make my life difficult? Yes. Am I willing to deal with
it because you’re my girlfriend and he’s my best friend? Yep. But I’m not willing to believe he would do something like this that might put my livelihood in jeopardy. If word gets out that the owners of Medium Rare tamper with people’s food, we’re done, Nora. Creamy, delicious, award-winning queso or not.”

  I already knew this. After all, I’d been in the industry longer than he had, and I knew what happened to restaurants when rumors started swirling about the safety of their food. Even if the rumors were completely unfounded, they were always harder to correct than they were to get started, and damage control could become impossible in a matter of hours, thanks to social media.

  While Eastwind didn’t have social media, it still had a powerful social network called “owls and busybodies” that worked almost as quickly as the internet.

  “Okay,” I said. “I won’t let my personal feelings bias me.”

  Don’t worry, I was totally going to. Because Tanner didn’t quite understand the extent of the personal feelings, so, sure as shifter, I was going to pin Donovan down on this topic until I was confident he hadn’t done something stupid.

  “We have a suspect with opportunity,” Tanner said, “but we don’t have any with motive.”

  “We know of a vague motive. The majority of people in Eastwind don’t like the High Council and wouldn’t mind subjecting them to a long, inescapable lecture.”

  “Doesn’t seem like enough.” Then he added, “Ah, right. You probably don’t know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Necromancy with the intent of causing pain and suffering is a level two offense.”

  “I know it’s illegal—Ruby bothered herself enough to give me the heads up on that when I first got here—but what’s a level two offense?”

  “It means you can go to Ironhelm Penitentiary for anywhere from three years to life.”

  “Three years to life?! Who thought that was a reasonable range? For anything?”

  He shrugged. “Probably some long-dead witch with a chip on his shoulder. That’s who made most of the laws in Eastwind. Not that any judge actually enforces the maximum sentence, but it’s possible. Anyway, I don’t think anyone would risk it over something minor like the Council taking too long to approve the budget or lowering the minimum age for purchasing wands. It would have to be something more specific.”

  “Or,” I began, a theory slowly forming in my mind, “it could have been completely accidental.”

  “Are you saying you might’ve done it?”

  “Me? No, no, no. Or, well, no, I guess I might’ve accidentally done it, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t. I mean, sure, the Fifth Wind magic does point to me, but I’ve made queso a thousand times, and none of the ingredients lend themselves to witchcraft.” I went over the list again. “Maybe cilantro, but, nah.”

  “The only other person who plays around with death is Ruby,” Tanner said. “She wasn’t anywhere near it, which means unless she’s a lot more powerful—and more bent on chaos—than I suspect she is, we can rule her out.”

  I tapped a finger to my lips, a new theory blooming. “Wait one second. Maybe that’s it.”

  Tanner cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrows, and graciously gave me the space to think before speaking.

  “Ted,” I said finally. “What about Ted? He sent that shockwave of dread through the restaurant yesterday. What if it tainted the queso?”

  He appeared impressed with the theory as he stuck out his bottom lip, nodding. “Interesting. I could see that.”

  “And it was after you snuck a taste, so it still holds.”

  “That means we have Count Malavic and Ted as suspects.”

  I refrained from mentioning Donovan. “Yeah.”

  “It’s a good start.” He slapped his thighs and rocked forward to stand in front of me. “Guess there’s nothing to do but track them down and see if we can’t settle this.”

  I stared up at him. “But what about the surprise?”

  He tilted his head forward, giving me a really, Nora? look. “You know as well as I do that once you start down this path, you have a one-track mind until it’s finished. So, let’s finish it. You can get the surprise when you’re done.”

  I winced. I hated to disappoint the guy, but he was one hundred percent correct. It was hard for me to focus on more than one project at a time, especially when it came to something mysterious. I probably could have put it to the back of my mind when we first arrived at his house, but now that we’d run through the possible suspects, all I wanted to do was talk with Ted and Sebastian.

  I pushed to my feet. “Sorry,” I said.

  Tanner laughed softly and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. “We have all the time in the world together, Nora. It’s just one surprise of many.” He stepped back, his hands on my shoulders as he stared into my eyes. “Now let’s hit Sheehan’s before everyone gets too sloppy.”

  Chapter Nine

  I knew the minute Sheehan’s Pub came into view that it was both the best and worst place to interview suspects.

  It was the best because there was no way they weren’t there. Malavic and Ted could be found there on a slow night, and Donovan had already made his intentions with Eva clear.

  But it was the worst place because, based on the crowd pouring out the front door, there wasn’t any chance for a private conversation, assuming we could wedge ourselves through the throngs and into the place to begin with.

  I found myself wishing Grim was with us. His death-omen vibe had a way of clearing space through a crowd. But once we approached, Tanner took the lead, and everyone was more than happy to take a half-step to the side to let Eastwind’s favorite witch through.

  I spotted Sebastian Malavic. Despite the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd, he’d managed to claim his usual spot at the bar. He lounged casually on the stool, his forearms propped against the corner of the counter as he cradled his wine glass in one hand and chatted smoothly with Fiona Sheehan while she dried beer steins by hand. “There he is,” I said, pointing across the noisy room. As soon as I did, his head swiveled around like he’d heard me, and he feigned shock animatedly, pointing at himself and mouthing, “Me?”

  “Cool,” said Tanner. “Let’s start with him first.”

  I slid around, facing him and holding a flat palm against his chest. “Let me do it. You go have a drink and enjoy yourself.”

  He stooped over so I could hear him better. “You don’t want my help?” He looked hurt, so I quickly lied and said, “I just feel bad about ruining the surprise. I want you to at least enjoy yourself tonight. Look around! All your friends are here.”

  “You shouldn’t feel bad,” he said, but his mood was already brightening. “But, yeah, I think I saw Liberty on the way in, and, gah, I just love that guy. I’m gonna go say hello.” He was full-on grinning by the time he finished, so I smiled back, snuck a quick kiss, and then made for Sebastian.

  “Still with the Culpepper boy then?” said Malavic as soon as I squeezed in next to him.

  “Yes, I’m still with him. You saw us together this morning.”

  He swilled his wine lazily as his eyes remained locked onto mine. “Ah, indeed, but with the two of you making such a quick exit from the festival, I assumed something had happened. Naturally, I guessed a break-up, despite the fact that I would have put money on you two lasting a whole three weeks longer before the gross incompatibility sent the relationship down in a brilliant streak of flames.”

  “Thank you for your concern,” I said dryly, “but Tanner and I are just fine.”

  His eyes shot open, making the thin ring of orange around his pupils stand out. “Just fine? Not great?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Oh, I do. I wonder if you know what you mean, though.” He sipped his wine.

  For fang’s sake, I couldn’t stand this vampire jerk. The arrogance alone made me want to punch a wall.

  “I didn’t come here to talk about my relationship,
” I said.

  “Thank damnation for that.”

  I swallowed down the rage and pushed through. “I need to talk to you about the cook-off.”

  “Ah! Yes!” he said, and someone who wasn’t privy to his games might have mistaken his tone as genuine excitement. “Congratulations on that, by the way. Who would have thought melted cheese and pressed corn would be crowned the best new dish in Eastwind? Oh, that’s right, anyone. Anyone could have guessed that. I admit I was excited when I first heard a necromancer had entered Eastwind. I thought, hey, maybe someone will resurrect the cuisine in this town! And I must say, Nora, you’ve given it a good shot. I even suspect you have more tricks up your sleeve that you know this town’s palate isn’t yet ready for.” He chuckled. “Well, don’t hold your breath.”

  “Says the man drinking red wine at a pub. Such refined tastes,” I said bitterly.

  The corners of his thin, pale lips turned up. “It’s a shame you’re wasting your time with that Culpepper boy. I feel like you and I could have some fun.” He set down his glass and rotated his body fully toward me. “Just so you know, the wine I get here is exorbitantly priced because it’s imported from Havanoi, a realm branching off from Avalon. I have a case shipped here once a month so that I can enjoy the simple company of the locals without sacrificing the integrity of my refined tastes. Would you like to try a glass? I’m happy to have Fiona pour you one. My treat, of course, since I already paid for it.”

  Hellhound yes, I wanted to try it! I wanted to try it more than I wanted just about anything in that moment. I missed the taste of expensive wine, the excitement of experimenting with a new color on a familiar canvas.

  But if you think I was about to accept anything from Count Malavic, you haven’t been paying attention. “No thanks. I’m not here to drink. I’m here to talk to you about the queso.”

  He rolled his eyes and his head along with it as he spun back toward the bar. “Fiona, dear,” he said, waving her down. When she glanced his direction, he lifted up his glass, pointing at it. She smiled and nodded.