by Nova Nelson
My eyes flickered to Tanner down the row of booths, where he joked around with James Bouquet while Hyacinth was in the restroom. “No, I think there’s some wisdom to that. Especially if things go south.”
Greta returned with the chips and queso and took our order. Landon became visibly more upbeat after a few mouthfuls of melted cheese. “I gave up on a future with Grace a long time ago. I just don’t have it in me to be the kind of man a woman wants to spend her life with. I know that. I’m too lost in my own head. I have a hard time connecting with people. I’m practical, logical. It’s like I was built to be alone.”
Perhaps because his words felt uncomfortably familiar, I said, “Don’t be an idiot.”
His attention snapped to me, and the chip he’d just dipped hovered in midair. “Huh?”
“You sound like I used to sound, and, sweet baby jackalope, it’s obnoxious. You deserve to be with someone, Landon, even if it’s not Grace. Just stop being a moron about it.”
“Thanks?” he said cautiously.
“You’re welcome. We’re going to figure out what happened to her, and if it’s something bad, we’re going to find justice. And if it was something good, then we’ll both move on and get you set up with the Eastwind equivalent of Tinder. You hear me?” He nodded, though I knew I’d lost him with the last bit. “Mark my words, Hawker, I’m not going to rest until you’re married and have your own coven’s worth of babies with the love of your life.”
“What if I don’t want kids?”
I jabbed a chip at him. “Then keep it to yourself. If you couldn’t tell, this stopped being about you a while ago.”
He laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “Fine. You win. I’ll have as many babies as you tell me to.”
A throat cleared behind me and I turned to see Tanner standing there, staring wide-eyed at Landon. In his hand was a water pitcher. He blinked quickly, then asked, “Um, refill?”
For fang’s sake, did he think I was trying to talk Landon into having kids with me?
“Oh, hi, Tanner!” I said, knowing immediately I was overdoing it.
“Sorry,” Tanner said, refilling our glasses. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Landon began to stammer, and I cut in with, “We were just talking about setting Landon up with someone … else. Not me.” I turned to Landon. “Right? Not me.”
He shook his head fiercely. “Not you.”
Tanner finished pouring the water and said, shrugging, “It could be you.” Then he walked into the kitchen.
While I felt like following him and chewing him out—about what exactly, I wasn’t sure—I made the mature decision to sit and fume quietly instead. I could feel my face heating up. Was he pretending he didn’t care if I had babies with someone else, or did he actually not care?
“Hey, Nora,” Landon said quietly.
I glared at him—a carryover from my thoughts with Tanner—and then softened when I saw the poor boy’s fear. “Yes?”
“How long before a woman knows she’s pregnant?”
The question threw me. “What?”
“How long after … you know, does it take before a woman can tell she’s pregnant?”
“Usually about a month. She misses a period and then starts to— Oh my goddess!”
Landon nodded his head slowly, frowning.
“You think Grace …?”
He shrugged. “It would make sense. Think about what we know. Fritz was able to have kids. Grace’s circle would disown her at best if they found out about her and Fritz. And if they found out she was not only carrying on with him, but pregnant …”
I leaned over the table, lowering my voice. “But I thought Eastwind didn’t have unplanned pregnancies.”
“We don’t,” he said. “It would have been planned.”
I silently followed the idea through before I said anything else.
Jane had mentioned that when two different kinds of creatures had a child, the child was one or the other, not a mix. So Grace’s baby could be either a witch or a werewolf, but not a … witchwolf? Werewitch?
I posed the next question aloud, knowing Landon, with a mind for this sort of thing, was already miles ahead of me. “You think she might be hiding somewhere waiting to see if it’s a werewolf?”
“She’s certainly smart enough to think that far ahead and plan for it.”
“And if it turns out to be a witch, then—”
“She might come back,” he finished.
“Why on earth would she want to get pregnant by Fritz, though?”
He shook his head, sighing heavily. “I couldn’t tell you. I guess I didn’t know her that well.”
“In your defense, when it comes to women’s reasons for wanting a baby, we don’t know ourselves that well, either. It’s more instinct. Either you have it, or you don’t.”
“Which one are you?” he asked.
I laughed dryly. “Take a guess. You’re not the only one who lacks warmth. You’re a witch of winter, I’m a witch of the night. Darkness doesn’t necessarily mesh well with child rearing.”
Greta brought out my burger and Landon’s club salad. As he tossed a few tomatoes Hera’s way, I said, “How can we validate our theory? Where would someone go if she wanted to know for sure she was pregnant?”
“I’m not exactly an expert in that sort of thing,” he conceded. “But probably the Pixie Mixie. I’m sure Kayleigh and Stella have some sort of test for it there.”
“Guess we know what we’re doing tomorrow afternoon, then,” I said.
“Don’t you get a lunch break?” he asked.
“Theoretically, I get one right before the lunch rush, but—”
“And aren’t you theoretically the owner of this place so you could theoretically take a lunch break for something really important?”
Pushy pushy.
I was so proud of him. “Look who suddenly doesn’t have time for my unicorn swirls.”
“I never have time for it,” he said, stabbing at his salad. “I’ll take an early lunch and meet you at the Pixie Mixie at eleven fifteen. No excuses.”
Chapter Fourteen
When I arrived at the Pixie Mixie on my lunch break the following day, Landon was already there. Hera wasn’t with him, which made sense after the close call toward the end of dinner the night before when a piece of ham dropped from his salad and she’d gobbled it up. Just like he’d said, the taste of meat triggered something in her, and when she started stalking one of the Tomlinson kids, Landon immediately kicked her out of the diner.
Grim had refused to come with me, too, for his usual reason of laziness. And that was fine, since it was a short trip on my lunch break and I wasn’t in any danger visiting Stella and Kayleigh Lytefoot at their apothecary.
“Glad you made it,” Landon said.
“Yeah, well, asking Tanner to watch my tables wasn’t the most fun conversation I’ve had this week, but I’m here, so let’s do this. I told him I’d be back in a half hour.”
“But it’s a fifteen minute walk each way,” said Landon.
“Right. I lied.” I nodded toward the shop. “Let’s get on with it.”
As we stepped inside, Landon whispered, “Will you take the lead since this is about, um, you know?”
“Girly stuff?” I teased. “Sure, no problem.”
“Nora! Landon!” Kayleigh called, emerging from between two long wooden shelves. The pixie held a bottle of bright pink liquid in her hand as she fluttered up to greet us. “Can I help you find anything? Stella just created a fantastic new batch of Concentration Potions, and I thought of you immediately.” She addressed Landon. “Nothing too strong, just enough to keep the mind from wandering and get you into flow state faster and make it last longer.”
“Great,” he said awkwardly, “I’ll have to check it out next time.”
“Oh,” she said, opening her eyes wide and looking back and forth between us. “You’re clearly here on a mission. What can I help you with today?”
> I took the lead as promised. “Do you carry anything along the lines of a pregnancy test?”
Kayleigh’s mouth fell open the slightest bit and she fluttered a few inches back from us. “Um, well, yes. And let me assure you,” she said, lowering her voice so the man browsing love potions two aisles over wouldn’t overhear, “that I hold the confidentiality of my customers in the highest regard.” She nodded, and, in a show of great effort, forced her lips into a pleasant smile.
“Um. Thanks,” I said.
“I’ve lived a long time, and matters of the heart can sometimes become, um,”—her eyes flickered to Landon—“messy. But that doesn’t mean we should ignore what our hearts tell us.”
What was with the diatribe?
Landon burst in suddenly with, “Oh, no! It’s not for— We’re not—”
“Oh, hellhounds, no,” I said, catching on suddenly. “No, it’s not for me. And it’s definitely not for us.”
Landon shook his head fiercely like he was trying to air dry his blond hair.
Kayleigh laughed, and her relief was obvious. “Oh, okay. Well, that’s probably for the best.”
“It’s absolutely for the best,” I said. “We’re here because we’re wondering if you might have recently sold a pregnancy test to Grace Merryweather.”
Kayleigh frowned. “Like I said, I maintain the confidentiality of my customers and their purchases.”
“She’s missing,” Landon said, keeping his voice low despite the note of urgency in it. “She’s been gone a week. We suspect she might have been pregnant and something happened to her because of it. But we need to know if that’s a possibility if we’re going to find what happened to her.”
“Oh, no,” Kayleigh said, falling a few inches in the air. “Grace is missing? How come I haven’t heard about it?”
“The Coven is trying to keep it quiet,” Landon explained.
“That’s suspicious,” she said, a crease appearing between her brows.
“We agree,” I said. “And we want to get to the bottom of it if we stand any chance of finding her and bringing her back safely.” I didn’t add that the more likely outcome at this stage in the game was that we would only find a body and have to seek posthumous justice on her behalf.
But Kayleigh’s expression made it clear she already understood that part. “I’m truly sorry, but I can’t tell you whether or not she came by ten or so days ago and bought the Little Witch Pregnancy Stick. That would violate the confidentiality.”
Message received.
I glanced at Landon, but his expression was unreadable. Man, was he even better at disguising his emotions than I was?
Kayleigh’s information would be bittersweet for him, of course. On the one hand, it meant Grace might have run away and was safe somewhere in Eastwind or beyond, waiting out her pregnancy to discover if the baby would make her a pariah or if the Coven would welcome her back, pretending they didn’t suspect the father of being anything but a fellow witch.
And on the other hand, Landon’s first love was likely pregnant with another man’s baby.
“Thanks,” I said.
Kayleigh nodded, and I placed a hand on Landon’s back, guiding him out of the Pixie Mixie. Once we were back in the cool, autumn air, I gave comforting him my best shot. “She’s probably okay, you know. If she’s pregnant, that means she did it on purpose. There’s a chance she’s currently the happiest she’s ever been.”
He heaved a sigh and nodded. “You’re right. If that’s the case, then I should be happy.”
I should be happy were words I was all too familiar with.
What do we do when we know we should be happier than we feel, when the things we’ve hoped for come to pass but they don’t affect us the way we’d expected? I didn’t have an answer yet, so I certainly wasn’t going to tell Landon what he should or shouldn’t think. The best I could do for my friend was to help him manage the disappointment.
“Think you could take the afternoon off?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I’m sure I could. They didn’t notice that Grace was missing for a week. They wouldn’t know if I took a few hours off. Why?”
“Because we just got in a massive batch of praline ice cream at Medium Rare. I haven’t figured out what exactly I’m going to do with it yet, but I bet it would taste pretty good on a piece of warm apple pie. Especially if that pie is on the house.”
A small smile turned the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I think I could afford to do a little emotional eating.”
“Afford to?” I said. “Landon, I don’t think you can afford not to at this point.” I threw an arm around his shoulder and steered him back toward the Outskirts. I couldn’t make things right with Grace, but I could push sugar and carbs on him to take the edge off the sting, so by Gaia, that’s what I would do!
We rounded the corner, and as the diner came into sight, I was just opening my mouth to ask what time it was (I was curious how annoyed Tanner would be by my lateness), when Lot Flufferbum rushed by me, almost clipping me as he passed.
I shot daggers at the back of his head as he sprinted down the road, away from Medium Rare but further into the Outskirts. Why was he running? Was something chasing him? I looked back over my shoulder, but I couldn’t find any clear predator, only a small herd of harmless Eastwinders, each looking concerned, not vicious, as they hurried in the same direction as Lance.
“What’s going on?” Landon asked. “I’ve seen people sprint away from the Outskirts, but never into it.”
“Yeah, something’s up.”
I searched the faces of the passersby for someone I could ask to get a straightforward answer. From the other side of me, coming from the direction of Medium Rare, I heard an authoritative voice shouting orders for people to move aside. I would recognize that voice anywhere. I hurried after him as he breezed by me, and jogged next to him once I caught up. “Stu, what is it?”
“No time, Ms. Ashcroft,” he said. There was a glob of cherry pie filling still on his mustache that, under normal circumstances, he would have carefully dabbed off with a cloth napkin. He must have been summoned in a hurry. Made sense, considering he was leaving in a hurry.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Not sure yet. Got to go.” He picked up the pace, and I slowed down, watching the flock of Eastwinders migrate after him.
Then another familiar face hustled by from the same direction as the deputy. “Tanner,” I called.
Unlike Stu, Tanner slowed his progress and allowed me to catch up. “What’s going on?” I asked. Where is everyone going?”
His face was red, and his hazel eyes were clouded with worry. “Stu just got word. Out by the Scandrick compound. An anonymous tip just came in. They found a body.”
Chapter Fifteen
For a moment, my heart stopped. “Whose body?” I asked.
“Not sure. But word sure spread fast. I’d better go, Stu might …” Tanner paused. “I could maybe help.”
“I know about the new job, Tanner. Just go. If nothing else, Manchester will need help with crowd control.”
Tanner set his jaw, nodded, and then hustled off after the crowd.
I turned to search for Landon, but I didn’t need to look far. He was right behind me, his face ashen, the color drained from his cheeks.
“It might not be her,” I said.
He snarled and shook his head. “No, it’s her. It has to be her.”
“Why don’t you stay here and I’ll go check it out for myself?”
He glared at me. “Are you kidding? Stay here? No. You don’t get to ditch me. I’m coming with you.”
Despite my overwhelming desire to protect Landon from the possibly grisly sight, he was an adult, and my friend, and I couldn’t make his decisions for him. “Fine, let’s go.”
I don’t know if the Outskirts had ever seen such an eclectic mix of people in it at one time. Maybe the success of Medium Rare had desensitized people to the potential danger of venturing into the outer
reaches of Eastwind that bordered the Deadwoods. So much so, even, that a possible homicide didn’t rattle them enough to stay away.
The gate of the Scandrick compound was cracked open, likely an oversight as so many of its inhabitants poured out to see the body for themselves. Werewolves, witches, elves, leprechauns, fairies, and the like huddled shoulder-to-shoulder, trying to sneak a peek of the horror.
It was unfortunate that something more uplifting couldn’t bring everyone together. Even the Lunasa Festival was skipped by those living in the compound. But here everyone was, united in their desire to gawk.
I grabbed Landon’s hand so I didn’t lose him and pushed my way to the front of the crowd. I was surprised how easy it was to do. People stepped aside when they saw who was nudging them to get by, and I didn’t miss it when their eyes fell down to the place where my hand grasped Landon’s.
It was irrelevant, though. Everything felt irrelevant outside of seeing the body and, hopefully, knowing that it wasn’t Grace’s.
I did feel a little guilty about that, because if it wasn’t hers, that meant it was someone else’s, and no matter who it was, there would be folks in this town grieving the death. But selfishly, I hoped that Landon didn’t have to be among those folks.
“Space,” Tanner ordered, sounding more authoritative than I knew he could. He clutched his wand by his side as an orange glimmering banner of light stretched out to block those in the front of the group from getting any closer. “Give him some space!”
I pushed to the front of the crowd. “We need by,” I said.
Tanner didn’t ask any questions, simply nodded and flicked his wrist, causing a small opening in the glowing orange banner that allowed Landon and me to pass through.
Stu Manchester kneeled with his back to us ten yards off, and part of me didn’t want to see what his bulky body was obscuring from my view.
I swallowed hard and came around to stand next to him. But my mind couldn’t take in what I was seeing. “What happened here?” I asked.
His head swiveled toward me and he stood, propping his fists on his hips. “Looks like whoever was here is no longer here.” He pointed to the ground where the grass had been depressed in a long trail leading into the Deadwoods. “Something or someone must have dragged the body off in the time between it being reported and when we got here.”