Shadow Web Page 5

  “So, we call this woman, and enthuse about how happy our friends in Terameth Lake are with the products, and say they recommended we try them?” I was beginning to get the picture.

  “That about sums it up. And when you are talking to Sheryl, drop a few hints about how you wish you could make some extra money. Also, and I don’t know why—they wouldn’t tell me—but the Court Magika recommends that you also mention about how tired you are. I suppose the oils are supposed to give you a burst of energy.”

  “Okay, let me jot this down.” Ari pulled out a pen and notebook.

  Rowan leaned back in the rocker. “It’s amazing what people will find to make money on. Any witch worth her salt knows that making her own oils is more powerful than buying them. Or if you need to buy something, support your local magic shop. The gods know, they can use the business, especially in today’s economy.”

  Daya cleared her throat. “If we’re done with the subject, can I ask for some advice?”

  “Of course,” Rowan said. “What’s the matter?”

  Daya, who struck me as bland except for her talent with the element of fire, blushed. “It’s about my boyfriend. He’s having trouble with… When we are in bed he can’t seem to…”

  “Get it up?” Nerium said.

  “Don’t be mean,” Yolen said.

  “I wasn’t,” Nerium said. “If he’s having trouble in bed, then he’s having trouble getting his wood hard. It happens to a lot of men. There’s nothing mean about it.”

  “Yes, that’s what I meant,” Daya said, blushing even harder. “The thing is, he’s been to the doctor and there’s no reason he should be having problems getting… An erection. And psychologically, there doesn’t seem to be any block. He doesn’t even wake up with one so it’s not a psychological problem. I’m thinking that somebody put a curse on him.”

  “Does he have any ex-girlfriends who are pissed at him?” Rowan asked.

  Daya stared at the ground. “Maybe. Or maybe…she’s mad at me. You see, I kind of stole him from his old girlfriend. They were having problems and…she isn’t right for him at all. I didn’t use any magic to attract him away. They would have broken up sooner or later.”

  Rowan let out a deep sigh. “Never get involved with someone before they officially break up with their ex. It’s never going to end well. How long ago did you get together?”

  “Three months. I haven’t talked about it much because… Well… I knew you’d scold me. She found out a week after I first slept with him. They broke up and he moved in with me.”

  I stared at Daya, feeling churlish. “Going to give you a little bit of advice, honey,” I said. “My ex cheated on me and it hurt like hell. Even though they were just dating, the fact is you stepped in and humiliated her. You owe her an apology. I don’t care if they were wrong for each other. Unless they’re polyamorous, you don’t fuck around on the side.”

  Rowan motioned for me to be quiet, and then turned to Daya. “Stand in the center of the room. Don’t be alarmed by what I’m about to do.”

  My grandmother walked over to her and placed one hand on Daya’s lower stomach, the other on the curve of her ass. Daya’s face was bright red by that point.

  “Just what I thought,” Rowan said. “The curse isn’t on your boyfriend, it’s on you. It’s a very common spell used by dust witches. Is your boyfriend’s ex witchblood?”

  Daya rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I don’t know what she specializes in.”

  “Most likely, she’s a dust witch. They fight dirty. The spell that I suspect she placed on you will cause any man who even looks at you with the least bit of arousal to lose his erection whenever you’re near. It’s not only your boyfriend who can’t get it up around you. It’s going to be any man you try to sleep with.”

  Daya clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh my gods, what do I do?”

  “It’s not an easy spell to break. I’ll have to consult my magical journals. I’ll call you tomorrow after I’ve done some research. Meanwhile, I suggest that you consider yourself lucky. Dust witches aren’t afraid to use death magic. And it sounds like she may be fairly powerful. What’s her name?”

  “Blythe Drayden. She lives on the edge of town in a little cottage on Wendover Street.”

  Rowan took down the information. “All right. Don’t do anything else to piss her off until we find a cure for this. You could end up in danger.” She smoothly turned back to Ari and me. “So, can you get on this tomorrow?”

  I cleared my throat. “No, but Sunday will work. The Witches Guild dumped a daunting task on me and now, with my computer on the fritz, I don’t know what to do.”

  “All right, get together Sunday and start forging a plan. Try to be discreet.” Rowan motioned to Nerium. “Why don’t you hand out the cookies while Yolen pours the wine. “

  As we toasted the full moon with our cakes (in this case, cookies) and wine, all I could think about was the fact that this was the busiest vacation I’d had in ages.

  I tossed and turned all night. By the time I woke up, I felt like I hadn’t slept at all. Xi and Klaus were curled on the bottom of the bed and I leaned down to give them a quick snuggle. Thank gods I didn’t have to go into work. I thought about trying for more sleep, and although I felt achy from the restless night, my body didn’t want to stay in a prone position. I glanced at the clock. It was nine-fifteen and I was usually up by seven.

  I pushed my way out of bed and stared at the exercise bike I’d bought a couple months ago. I kept it in my bedroom as a reminder, although I hadn’t managed to build up the habit yet, and I decided a little ride might perk me up. I pulled on a pair of pajama shorts and then a sports bra—exercising without one was out of the question—and flipped on the TV. I’d also decided that I liked watching television when I was in bed, and bought a smart TV that I had affixed to the wall, since Klaus kept trying to walk atop it when it was on the dresser. I flipped on Netflix and turned to The Great British Baking Show. Twenty minutes later, I had finished watching the bakers try to make mille-feuille and my joints felt looser. Xi and Klaus acted as though they thought I had lost my mind, but I felt better, and I was ready for a shower.

  As I lathered up, scrubbing with a pumpkin spice–scented bath wash, I planned out my day. I had to figure out something for the Witches Guild, which was meeting at nine p.m., and then I needed to run a search on Majikoil. I also wanted to try out a recipe I’d found for chocolate thumbprints, and I needed to make sure I had enough placements and napkins for everybody who was coming.

  As I walked back into my bedroom, stark nekkid, I tallied up the number of guests I was expecting for Thanksgiving. I stopped cold, frozen by fear. There was somebody sitting on my bed. I started to scream, but then I blinked and looked again and there was nobody there. Xi and Klaus were sprawled out on the bed, unperturbed, and they gave me a sleepy look. Xi arched her back, and meowed her I’m hungry mew before jumping off the bed and heading for the door.

  What the hell? Esmara, are you around? I projected a frantic call to my guardian—my great-aunt Esmara, who, like all my maternal great-aunts who had passed, had joined the other Ladies who watched over the members of my mother’s line. But Esmara was nowhere to be found. Or she didn’t feel like answering—which was also quite possible.

  I peeked in my closet, then even under the bed. Nothing. I reached out but couldn’t pick up on any other energies in the room.

  “Maybe I’m more tired than I thought,” I muttered. I decided the hallucination was due to not enough sleep and too much to do.

  I turned to my closet, and chose a full-circle black skirt, along with a vivid cobalt V-neck sweater. A wide stretchy black belt complemented the retro look, and I smiled at my reflection. I cleaned up rather sexy at that! I paired the outfit with chunky-heeled Mary Janes, and then brushed my hair back and held it with a satin headband, and put on my makeup. Staring in the mirror, I looked ready to meet the day, even if I didn’t feel like it.

  As I headed downstairs
, I kept an eye out for anything amiss, but everything seemed perfectly normal. The cats were impatiently waiting by their food dishes, and I doled out their breakfast, then flipped on the espresso machine. While it heated up, I studied the contents of the refrigerator, trying to decide what I wanted for breakfast. There wasn’t much that I wasn’t already planning on using for Thanksgiving, so I finally popped a frozen personal-size pepperoni pizza into the toaster oven while I made myself a triple mocha.

  As I waited for it to bake, something drew me to the back porch, which spanned the entire back of the house. It was screened in, so during the summer I could throw outdoor parties without the mosquitoes divebombing us. I stepped out into the brisk morning air. There was a shimmer from the far end of my property, down by the Mystic Wood.

  Frowning, I decided to check it out. I descended the porch steps and cautiously made my way across the lawn. Chunky heels were far easier than stilettos, but the ground was saturated and I still had to be cautious to avoid the muddy parts. It occurred to me that I might want to run a sidewalk down through the lawn for easy access. Or at least a path made of pavers.

  I reached the border of the wood and immediately knew what had caught my attention. There, standing near the trailhead, was Rebecca. The imp had tried to kill me when I was a child, but in the past few months, we seemed to have reached an understanding. Rebecca looked like a golden-haired little girl, though if you stared into her eyes, anybody with any psychic sense could tell her looks were a glamour.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I asked. I still didn’t like her or trust her, but had found her to be useful, so I reined in my inclination to be snide. She had developed a taste for Killian’s barbecued baby-back ribs, and a slab of them went a long way in securing her cooperation.

  “I had a feeling you might be looking for me,” she said, her gaze fluttering around.

  That was a new one. Rebecca was usually focused on how she could help herself. She wasn’t what you’d call altruistic. But then again, imps were minor demons. That was standard behavior for them.

  I glanced over my shoulder. My pizza would be done soon. “I’m not sure. There have been a lot of odd things going on lately. Do you have any sense of something that’s moved into the Wood? Like the Whatcom Devil?”

  She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, but there’s something near that feels new and odd.”

  “Tell you what, if I need you, I’ll tie a blue ribbon on that huckleberry right there.” I pointed to the bush to the left of the trailhead. “Then I’ll come out here that night. So check the bush daily, if you could.” I paused, not knowing what was possessing me, and asked, “Do you like turkey?”

  She thought for a moment. “You mean the big birds your kind eats every year around this time?”

  “Yeah, those are turkeys.”

  “Not really—they’re kind of dry.”

  “All right. I’ll see you later. My breakfast is waiting.” Relieved she hadn’t said yes—I had been two shakes short of inviting her to Thanksgiving—I returned to the house. But when I glanced over my shoulder, she was standing there near the trailhead, watching.

  Chapter Six

  Given my laptop cord had melted, I packed up my laptop along with my tablet and a notebook, and headed downtown. I’d drop the computer off to be checked out, and then I’d hit the Garrison Library for research.

  I found a parking space right in front of Byte Your Tongue. Despite the cheesy name, they were a good repair place for tech. Even better, they were open for business, and I was first in line. Hoping my lucky streak held, I handed over my laptop, told them the problem, and showed them the melted power cord.

  The tech stared at the cord, then tapped away at his keyboard. “Okay, right. I think I found your problem. The cords on this model number were recalled last year. Didn’t you get a notice via email?”

  I grimaced, shrugging. “I have no idea. I don’t read half the email I get. So, is it just the cord or did the meltdown affect my computer, too?”

  “I’ll have to run a diagnostic on it. If you can leave me your password, I’ll get to this as soon as I can. Next week, we’re going to be missing several staff members—”

  “Next week? I need it before then! Do you offer a rush fee?” I asked.

  He glanced at a clipboard on his desk. “Yes, but there are two computers ahead of you if you opt for the rush job.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You’re number 14,” he said. “And no guarantee that we can get to it until the second week of December.”

  “If I pay the rush fee?”

  He tapped away at the keys. “Then we should be able to get to it on Monday.”

  “Put me down for the rush job. How much extra is it?”

  “A hundred,” he said. “If you could write down your password here.” He printed out a paper and pushed it across to the counter to me. I wrote down my password, then tucked the receipt in my wallet and headed out into the blustery morning.

  As I snugged my coat tighter, my phone jangled and I glanced at the incoming text. good morning, love. how are you doing?

  I hurried back to my car and slid inside before answering. i left my computer with byte your tongue. the firemen were at my place yesterday. I sent the text and was about to compose another when the phone rang.

  “What the hell happened? What do you mean the firemen were at your house?” Killian’s voice blared through the speaker.

  “My computer cord melted down and I wasn’t sure if there was a spark or something in the walls. So I called the fire department and they checked it out. Everything’s okay,” I added. “My house isn’t going to burn down.”

  “Scare a guy to death, why don’t you?” Killian said. He paused, then added, “So, what happened? Why did the cord melt down?”

  “Turns out my laptop cord was recalled last year and I never got the notice. The cords are defective and several have melted down and caused fires.” I frowned. “So I’m out my computer until at least Monday—the techs are checking it out for damage. Which means all the research I downloaded is being held hostage till then. I’m about to head to the library.”

  “Can’t you tell the Witches Guild to put a sock in it until next week?” Killian sounded grumpy, but I knew it was because he was worried.

  “I could, but I’d rather see if I can finish this and check it off my to-do list.” I paused, then said, “Somehow, social events seem more stressful than hunting down ghosts. I’m questioning my sanity at offering to host Thanksgiving. Is it always like this? When I was with Ellison, we went to his parents’ house, where I would be picked apart by his mother.”

  “Love, calm down. One—I will be closing the office, except for emergencies, for four days next week. I’ll help you every day. We can host together. Good practice for when we do get married,” he said, a grin in his voice. “Second, you know that Teran is going to be over there, probably taking charge of the whole shebang.”

  “True. Very true. She’ll help me learn. I can cook, but I’ve never roasted a turkey before and I’ve never coordinated such a large meal. Ellison and I called in caterers when we held dinner parties. He thought it made him look more refined.” I stared at the phone and made a sudden decision. “You know, you’re right. I’m going to tell the Witches Guild they’ll have to wait or assign someone else. I had no control over this.”

  “I’m proud of you. Stand up for yourself!” Killian paused, then added, “I have to go—my next appointment is here. Time for a very adorable kitten to be spayed.”

  I blew a kiss in the phone and we agreed that I’d drop by after my Witches Guild meeting that night. “I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

  Killian was the best vet in the town, and people knew it. But he made sure not to headhunt clients from the other vets, because the more competent animal care clinics there were, the better.

  I thought about the library, then nixed the idea. Since this was technically my vacation, I was going to do at
least one thing I wanted to do. And that was to get the Yule tree set up. Which meant that I needed to wade through the attic for my parents’ decorations. Last year, I hadn’t been ready to use them—too many memories. But this year, it felt like time. I wanted to renew that connection to my mother and father. I had bought a tree and some decorations when I first moved back, but this year, I wanted everything to feel pulled together, not just the chaos of a whirlwind shopping spree.

  I glanced at the overcast sky. The rain was still holding off and it was a brisk fifty-five degrees, so I decided to take a walk in the park by the marina.

  I had come to love the piers that overlooked the marina. There was one in particular that I liked to walk out on and sit at the end to watch the bay. During fishing season, the old men would come out to fish, but on days like today, the seats along the walkways were usually empty.

  I parked in the lot near the park and turned off the ignition, threw my keys in my purse, and headed across the grass to the edge of the bay. There was a small area that was enclosed by a water net, so children and adults could swim in there during the summer, but at this time of year it was far too dangerous. The water was too cold, and the waves too rough. Sometimes scuba divers went out during the late autumn to practice, but today nobody seemed willing to brave the waters.

  I sat down on the bench at the end of the wooden walkway, grateful that the rain had evaporated off of it. It was still cold, but I wouldn’t get my skirt wet. I leaned back, thrusting my hands in my pockets, and crossing my legs as I stared out over the water. I thought about how frantic I had felt when I talked to Killian, and decided to ask myself what I really wanted from the holidays. What was I looking for?