Which Witchery Is That? Read online

  She hadn’t been lying. I would never forget the fear slicing through me at the thunderous sound of thousands of boots marching toward the exit, or gate as Layla called it. I’d never forget that snake’s eye with the razor-sharp edges snapping threateningly as Layla and I flew toward it through the vortex.

  I’d never forget any of it.

  “I’m still having nightmares,” I admitted.

  She nodded. “Believe me when I tell you they are incensed that we stopped them. And stripping me of my devilish nature was only a small part of what I’ll endure if they ever get hold of me.” She narrowed her gaze. “Which brings me to my current problem.”

  I sat back and sipped my too-cool coffee, grimacing. I hated cold coffee. “Tell me,” I told Layla. “This happened to you because of me. I’ll always be grateful for your help. Whatever I can do to help, I’ll do.”

  “I am pleased to hear it,” Layla said, her fingers kneading the fur between Wraith’s shoulders. She looked me in the eyes, holding my gaze with an unblinking focus that made dread coil in my belly. “Because I would like to request safe harbor in your home.”

  “Uh…” My mind spun, but I had nothing. “Ah…”

  She smiled. “Don’t look so appalled, Aggy,” the formerly devilish creature teased. “I’ll sleep on your couch. I just need some protection until I figure some things out.”

  My spinning mind finally landed on a question. “What do you need protection from?”

  “Things.”

  I lowered my brows. “Things that go bump in the night?”

  “Of course,” Layla said, almost cheerfully. “What other kinds of things does one need protection from?”

  “I don’t know, crooked politicians, flesh-eating bacteria, rampant garlic breath.”

  She laughed, tugging Wraith up to kiss her soft head. I frowned as the cat purred even louder, rubbing against Layla’s delicate chin. If I’d done that, the cat would have probably bitten my nose.

  “What is this magic that you yield, devilish Layla,” I muttered under my breath. Aloud, I asked. “How long were you thinking?”

  “As long as it takes for me to come up with a solution to my little problem.”

  “Tell me about your problem.” I gave up on sipping my cold coffee and pushed it away. My stomach rumbled, and I realized Monty hadn’t been fed. Glancing at him happily curled around Layla’s dainty feet, my frown deepened.

  “I’ve already told you. The Commander wants me dead.”

  “But he’s on the demonic plane, isn’t he?”

  My heart gave a few stress-induced thumps. Please, goddess, don’t tell me the demonic army got through the vortex after all.

  “He is. But that doesn’t mean he can’t call others to do his will.”

  “This commander is sending demons after you?”

  “A few have come. But I’m not worried about those. My people can easily dispatch them.” She grimaced. “I’m more worried about being taken down by one of my own.”

  My eyebrows peaked in surprise. “Your own people are turning against you?”

  “Not all of them. I know I told you my people were all happy on earth, but that might have been a bit of an exaggeration.”

  Ha! I knew it. “Some of them resent being here?”

  “Yes. The demonic realm holds certain advantages for creatures like us.” For just a beat, there was a glint of regret in her eyes. But she quickly squelched it. “I am happier here. But that does not mean everyone is. The Commander is very good at finding a person’s weak spots and using them to get what he wants.”

  “He’s promised your people that they can come home if they dispatch you for him.”

  She nodded.

  “But how would they do that? We killed the vortex.”

  “We beat it back, yes. But it is far from dead, Aggy. It’s important for you to remember that.”

  I felt all the color leech from my face. I shook my head in denial. “No. It can’t come back. Not so soon. I’m…” I swallowed hard, realizing it would be best if I didn’t finish that sentence. “You’re saying this Commander will try to engage the Hellmouth again.”

  She shook her head. “No. Bringing it forward was a massive campaign. It will take him a while to recover from the loss. But there is another way.”

  “Another way for a lost one to return to the demonic plane?”

  She nodded. “There is a creature that can pass between the veil to other realms.”

  “What type of creature?”

  “A powerful creature, made of light and purity. I have heard this creature is here. In the human realm. If that is true, and I have every reason to believe that it is, we must make sure it can’t be used by the demons.”

  I thought about that, a sense of dread blossoming in my chest. “Okay. How do you propose we do that?”

  “That is the task I need you to help me accomplish. We need to kill the White Mare. It is the only way I will remain safe.”

  Vertigo ripped my balance out from under me. Nausea bloomed in my belly. “The White Mare?” I thought of the beautiful creature who’d helped Gren and me during the war against the Hellmouth. The stunning animal whose eyes glowed with pure green light. The gorgeous creature who’d found my little haven and had, recently, been visiting me, watching me from afar to determine if it was safe to approach.

  A creature of pure magic with a purer soul.

  My heart broke a little at the realization that, by helping one friend stay alive, I’d have to endanger another friend who I’d hoped to coax into my life.

  There was a tearing sound in my mind that I was pretty sure was the sound of my heart ripping in two.

  4

  A Bargain Not so Easily Made

  “Are you sure this is safe?” I asked the princess. My home was built on consecrated ground, having once been a church. Layla wouldn’t have been able to enter it as a lost princess. What I didn’t know, was if she still had enough devil to turn her to ash if she came through my door.

  “I think so,” she responded, looking a tad bit worried. “I no longer have my devilish side, so it should be okay.”

  I thought about it for a beat and then said, “Hold on a minute.” Hurrying inside the house, I grabbed the bottle of holy water I’d begun keeping in my pantry after the Hellmouth episode. Returning to Layla, I dipped my finger into the water. “Give me your palm.”

  Layla extended her hand, palm up, and I wiped the water across it.

  Nothing happened.

  No smoke, no flame, no pain-filled shrieking.

  “I think you’re good,” I told her with a smile.

  Layla expelled a long breath, visibly relaxing. “Thanks, Aggy.”

  Inside my kitchen, the former devilish miss looked around with interest, rubbing her fingers along the granite countertops and peeking into the pantry, which I’d left open after returning the holy water. “Pretty,” she said, a touch of surprise in her voice.

  I didn’t respond to the surprise. She’d been royalty in her prior life. I had never been and never would be royalty. She no doubt thought of me as a peasant. “We’re going to have to get creative on sleeping arrangements,” I told her. “I only have one bedroom.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “I can sleep on the floor.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I have a couch. Or we could put a blow-up mattress in the shop area, but that’s filled with sawdust right now, and Tish gets here early to start pounding and sawing. You’d probably be more comfortable in the sanctuary.”

  “The sanctuary?”

  “My living room. I’m afraid it gets light really early. There are a lot of windows. Hopefully, you’re not a late sleeper.” I smiled to lighten the mood, but she didn’t return the smile.

  “I don’t sleep much these days. Anything will be fine.”

  I nodded. “We’ll work it out. Are you hungry?” My cell phone rang. Since it was a normal ringtone rather than some strange and annoying ditty having to do with mothers,
I knew it wasn’t Mavis. A quick glance told me it was the next best thing. I answered. “Hey, Sis. How’s it going?”

  “Hey,” Bev said, her tone quiet and serious. She was probably at work. “You’re scheduled to meet with the coven tonight at seven.”

  “Oh, good. You’re coming too, I hope?”

  “Yep. Trish, mom, and I will be there, along with the rest of our coven. Our visiting witch doesn’t take to non-witches very well. You’ll need us to step in if she tries to browbeat you.”

  “This is the witch from Chicago?”

  “Yes. We were lucky she was visiting the area right now. She knows a lot about curses. Willy knows her pretty well, but I’ve never met her, so I don’t know if she’ll be willing to help us.” She frowned. “Dell lost some of her coven members recently. Tragically. So I’m a little surprised she even agreed to come.”

  “What happened to her coven?”

  “Willy was vague. But, I gather something went wrong on a high-level spell. Several of them died.”

  I grimaced. “That’s horrible.”

  “Yeah,” Bev agreed.

  “Wanda should be there, too. That way, if we come up with something, we can try it right away.”

  “That’s not going to work. Our visitor would have a fit.”

  I frowned, unhappy with the idea of another delay in helping the teen.

  Bev sighed. “I know you’re anxious, Aggy. But this is the way it has to be done. Members of the Chicago coven can be prickly. We can’t rush Dell.”

  “Is it possible she’ll just be able to point us to a spell, and we can cast it ourselves?”

  There was a slight hesitation, during which I was pretty sure Bev was thinking I was clueless. I tried not to bristle about that. I already knew I was clueless about witchery.

  “Trust me?” Bev asked.

  I did. Sighing, I said, “Of course.”

  “Good. We’ll pick you up at six-thirty. Wear your leathers.”

  My eyes popped wide as my sister hung up. My leathers? Those were supposed to be only for battles. Were we going to war with the witches? My stomach roiled at the thought. But a beat later, I squared my shoulders. If we needed to fight for Wanda’s future, I’d happily do it.

  “Is everything okay?” Layla asked from behind me.

  I swung around and realized I’d walked away as I answered my phone. Habit. I was becoming cocooned in my little world of mayhem and magic and didn’t even realize anymore when I brought up my defenses.

  I gave Layla a smile. “It’s all good. Just some business I need to take care of tonight.” I set my phone down on the counter. “I’m starving. How about you?”

  Layla dragged her gaze away from my phone. “I am hungry. But you don’t need to feed me. I don’t want to make myself a burden.”

  I didn’t ask her how she was going to feed herself because I didn’t want to be insulting. But she’d kind of put herself into my hands. And, though I wasn’t nearly as good a cook as my mom, I did not let people in my home go hungry.

  “Woof!”

  I looked down into the bright brown gaze of my dog. Poor thing probably thought he was going to die of starvation. “Sorry, buddy. Let’s get that little belly filled up.”

  Layla watched in fascination as I pulled out the container of Monty’s kibble and poured some into the bowl that Aunty Bev had gotten him the previous Christmas. The inside bottom of the bowl said, “If you’re seeing this, my owner didn’t feed me enough.”

  I grinned every time I filled the bowl. It was so Monty.

  “You feed the little furry one?”

  I scooped a tablespoon of soft food into the bowl and mixed it into the dry. “He depends on me to feed him.” It was a good thing, too. If I left it up to him, he’d just be a belly with feet. His legs were already short enough.

  “He cannot hunt for rodents and birds?”

  “Well, yeah, he could. He does actually.”

  She cocked her head at Monty. He cocked his head at her.

  “He is long of body but short of leg.” She frowned. “I see that he could not catch a larger creature.”

  Feeling an inexplicable need to defend my dog, I said, “You’d be surprised how fast he is. Besides, dachshunds were bred to fetch rodents from holes in the ground. He loves to dig up moles in the backyard. It drives the gnome crazy,” I admitted with a grin. Though Niele was decidedly not a mole, he kind of lived like one and seemed to have an affinity for the ugly things. I went along with my greenskeeper’s firm request not to let Monty hunt them, mostly because I’d always been anti-critter-murder of any kind. I didn’t even kill spiders in the house. Though I didn’t lose any sleep if Monty ate them.

  Layla nodded. “Gnomes believe the mole is their spirit animal.”

  “You know a lot about gnomes.”

  She shrugged, reminding me of Wanda, my teenaged magical historian. “I know of all the magical breeds. As royalty, it is my duty to protect my people. That means I need to understand any potential rivals.”

  That made sense. I moved past her to the fridge and pulled out some eggs, cheese, butter, and bread. “Now you have to tell me why the gnome walks around with his stick and berries out.”

  “Stick and berries?”

  I washed my hands, glancing at her over my shoulder. I lifted my brows. “Ah. Yes. The stick and berries.” She grinned. “It is in the gnomenclature.”

  The gnomenclature, according to Niele, was the guiding document for gnomish people. From his description, I figured it was a cross between a society guide like Miss Manners and a Constitution. I was really glad it wasn’t the custom for humans to run around with our sticks, berries, or cantaloupes hanging out.

  “He’s always using saws and clippers,” I said, grimacing. “I worry he’ll sever the wrong stick.”

  Layla barked out a laugh. “That does seem like it would be a problem.”

  Five minutes later, I settled plates of eggs and toast onto the table, and we tucked in. Monty was under the table, one fat paw occasionally tapping my calf in case I’d forgotten he was there.

  I hadn’t. But I was loathe to let Layla know that, in addition to feeding him twice a day, I also fed the dog from my plate.

  She’d think I’d lost my mind.

  The front door slammed, and Trish called out. “Hello?”

  Layla jumped to her feet, one hand suddenly gripping a knife with a curved blade and etchings along its handle.

  Eyeing her with alarm, I called out, “In the kitchen.” I shook my head at Layla and motioned for her to sit. “Trish is my contractor, and she’s on my council.”

  Layla didn’t sit, but she dropped the hand with the knife to her side.

  I gave her a warning look. “No violence,” I said. “That’s non-negotiable.”

  She gave me a slight nod but still didn’t sit.

  Trish breezed into the kitchen and slid to a stop, her vivid green eyes narrowing. “Hello?”

  Okay, it was true I’d never been one for excessive socializing, but I was pretty sure the greeting wasn’t supposed to end in a question mark. “Trish, you’ll never believe who this is.”

  “Princess Layla?” the pretty fairy responded with a frown.

  I stared at her, my mouth slack with shock. “Seriously? Do you have the place bugged or something?”

  She grinned. “No. It’s her aura. It’s very distinctive.” She frowned. “But it has changed a little.”

  “Changed how?” Layla demanded.

  “The color is different. It’s bluer than before. I’d guess that’s from your newly updated humanity.”

  I continued to stare at the fairy. She was really blowing my mind. “You don’t even look surprised.”

  “I saw her after you came out of the vortex, remember?”

  Ah. That made sense. The damage that had stripped Layla’s devilish nature had happened in the vortex. I’d been half dead at the time so I hadn’t seen the change myself. “Oh. Okay.” I smiled at Trish. “You’re ev
en earlier than usual today.”

  “We have that…” She glanced at Layla. “…thing tonight. I was hoping to finish the trim work today. Next week, I’m starting on your half bath.”

  We’d made an executive decision to finish the shop and the small customer bathroom before we started on my master bedroom suite. Still, the idea of the shop being done was exciting. One task nearly finished, three to go.

  “That’s good news,” I told her enthusiastically.

  She winked at me then looked down at the bakery box she was holding. “Oh. I almost forgot. Mavis asked me to bring these. I go right by Tilly’s on my way here.”

  “Tilly’s?” I asked, frowning.

  “That new bakery Mavis told you about.”

  “I remember the giant chocolate chip cookies.” I closed my eyes, groaning with pleasure. “Those cookies were better than sex…” I stopped, throwing Layla an embarrassed glance. Yes, she was a princess. And, yes, she was an adult. I thought. But she was young and I didn’t want to corrupt her. “Sectional sofas,” I finished awkwardly.

  Trish snorted. “That’s quite a statement coming from you. I know how much you love sectional sofas.”

  I glowered at her, taking the box away and peering inside. The sweet scent of a dozen muffins in a variety of delectable flavors wafted up to me, making my eyes cross with pleasure. “Yum.”

  “Dibs on the chocolate cream filled with sprinkles,” Trish said.

  “Is there lemon?”

  “Lemon cream. They have little pieces of candied lemon on the top.”

  I groaned again, briefly considering hiding the muffins behind the vegetables in the pantry so nobody would find them.

  “Muffins?” Layla said, looking over my shoulder at the delicious pastries.

  I turned with the box, lifting the lid and holding it out to her. “Would you like one?”

  Layla’s face bloomed with happiness. She grabbed the chocolate one, and I turned to look at Trish. Her lips were pressed together, but she didn’t say anything. “Next time, I’ll get two,” she muttered under her breath.

  I fought a grin, offering the box to her again. “The chocolate chip muffins look delicious.”