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7

HANK

I park the rescue truck in the bay, then send out a little magic to see if any witches are in the building. Nothing buzzes at me, so I'm pretty sure we're alone. Good. I need to sneak her over to her house before those assholes come back. The last thing we need is for her to get captured by the king.

Again.

"Come on." I exit the truck and walk around to grab her hand. We’re about to head to the back of the firehouse and through the kitchen but freeze when a booming voice nearly shouts my name. "Hank!"

I recognize the deep drawl, but no way Callie would. "Hey, Captain," I say as I eye the back door before turning to face him. Should I send Callie across the yard without me? If someone is waiting out there, I'd sense them.

Except I couldn’t sense Callie, so maybe I can’t trust my senses as much as I thought.

Which makes me wonder how Sugar's been doing it. Perhaps she’ll have some of the answers we need about how to break Callie’s curse.

"Where is the crew?" he asks. "This place is empty. The firetruck is sitting in the bay. Why haven't you guys restocked it?"

After a fire, it’s the first thing we usually do—providing there were no injuries—is to fix the truck to be ready to go right back out on another call. He's right. We should be in the bay, prepping in case we get another emergency. The town only has one fire station, and two calls in one night is more than possible.

"We've had a personal emergency," I say as Callie hides partially behind me. Glancing down at her bare feet, I remember she's only wearing my coat. Damn it.

"I see that," Captain says with his eyebrows up. "It involves all of you? And Sugar?"

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry I can't say more."

He doesn't believe a word I'm saying; that much is apparent. His eyebrows are in danger of disappearing into his dark hairline. "I'll notify the on-call volunteers," he says. "I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, mostly because I don’t have a reason not to. But don’t make me regret trusting you."

"Thank you, sir," I say. Sugar had kept us out of trouble more than once over the time she'd worked with us.

"I'll reset the truck," he says as he cocks his head to look at Callie. "I'd be remiss if I didn't offer you my assistance. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Callie peeks her head over my shoulder and shakes it. "No, but thank you, sir. And thank you for giving them the time to help me."

Our shift will be over in six hours, anyway. Normally, one of us would check in during and after a fire call and bring the Captain up to speed, but obviously, none of us had thought of it, so he'd come in. "Update on your fire?" he asks.

I went into technical mode. "Structure fire on the outskirts of town, by the beach. We got it out before the entire house burned. No casualties, homeowner has been briefed."

"Good. Glad to hear there were no casualties."

Callie's hand tightens on mine. She knows I'm lying to him, but there's no way she understands why.

Captain stares at me for another second, then nods. "Go deal with whatever you need to deal with, then."

I turn and push Callie toward the door. Best to get her out of there before someone shows up looking for Will.

Reaching out to see if anyone is near, I find the yard empty, so we scurry across to Callie's house. The back door is locked, and I push a little magic into it to unlock it, but James has it locked with magic. Instead of using more magic to try to break his spell, I knock on the door.

Will peeks out and confirms it's us before opening up. "You found her," he says in relief, grabbing Callie's hand and pulling her around me into the house. "Thank goodness."

"I never really left the house area. Even my cat wanted to see what was going on," she says softly into his shoulder. I don't like how hard he's squeezing her and how easily she went into his arms.

"We've got a lot to talk about," I say as I lock the door behind me. "Captain was at the station."

James steps into the kitchen, having heard the last thing I said. "Oh, no." He slaps his hand on his forehead. "I didn't call him."

Callie steps out of Will's hug and looks at me accusingly. "He told him there were no casualties. Why aren't you guys calling the police for an arson investigation? I couldn't hear most of what you were talking about, but I heard that that woman, the queen, is dead."

"Come in here, please?" a soft female voice says from deeper inside the house. "We both have questions for one another."

I follow everyone out of the kitchen and into the living room, where we sit around a blond-wood coffee table. Sugar enters after us. "I'll go help the Captain," she says as she eyes the people in the room. "This looks a little crowded for me."

No doubt she wants to leave before Fran thought to question who she is and why she’s here.

Callie perches on the edge of the sofa between Will and James. I push back the desire to settle beside her and sit with Fran on the love seat instead.

Fran opens her mouth, but Callie holds up a hand. "As you say, we both have lots of questions, and I’m so sorry for your loss. But first, I want to know who the dead woman really was and why Hank told your Captain there were no casualties."

Damn. That’s awfully cold. I raise my eyebrows and look at James. He’s British, and sometimes he comes off as cold, so if he thinks it was harsh, then it definitely was.

He looks shocked.

Come on, Callie. Get it together.

A small sob escapes Fran, and she puts her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry."

Callie’s entire face freezes, and I see the moment she realizes how callous she sounded. "No. Don't be sorry. I'm sorry that came across so heartless.” She wraps her arms around herself, her expression far away, as if she’s looking for the right words. “I’m truly sorry for your pain and loss."

I lean forward before they get into a cycle of sorries. "Callie, we've told you. The woman was Phoebe Kranton, the Dowager Queen of all the Witches in the Eastern United States, called the Eastern Coven."

"Right, I get that." She leans back and tucks her hair behind her ear before crossing her arms. "But why did you lie to the chief? She was still a person, right? Or do things work differently with the magical?"

"Captain is a human," James explains. "He can't know."

"Who will investigate?" Callie looks outraged. "Who will seek justice? You said it was a magical fire, intentional. Who prosecutes?"

"It should be the king," Will says. "But since he's the most likely culprit, there won’t be an investigation."

The older woman leans over, her head in her hands. “She always knew it would end like this. I tried to tell her there was another way. That our lives could end peacefully. I was wrong.”

The dowager queen’s death can’t go unnoticed. She deserves a proper funeral, and the people who ove her deserve to attend. Traditionally, the king will have to perform the ritual to allow her spirit to settle peacefully. It is the way of our people. We could do it, but we wouldn’t be able to do it as her station deserves.

"We have to notify him," I murmur. It's the last thing any of us want to do. “Even though we know he’s the one that killed her. He’ll be forced to respond appropriately to uphold decorum. He loves decorum.”

"I’ll do it," James says. "Callie, may I have a piece of paper?"

Callie jumps up and gets a notebook and pen out of the small desk in the corner. "Here," she says as she hands it to James.

"I don't know what to say," James whispers as he stares down at the paper.

James’s past is a mystery to me, even after all these years of working with him. I trust him without knowing anything about his past.

Mine is mundane, to an extent. But I was raised in the castle and knew the rules. When the king died, and Will’s parents were forced to move to the human world, there wasn’t much holding my family to the new king. They left to be with Will’s family. His parents were and are my parent’s best friends.

My time living in the castle and learning about magic at the hands of my treasurer father taught me a lot. One of the things was how to properly address the king.

Leaning over, I take the paper from his hands. I don't know what his connection is to the king or Council, but he acts weird when we talk about it.

I scrawl out a short note and hand it back.

To His Royal Highness, Robert Kranton the First,

We regret to inform you that Her Royal Highness, Phoebe Kranton, Dowager Queen of the Eastern Coven, has perished in a house fire. Her body awaits your transportation for a royal funeral as befits her station.

In sorrow,

The Blackwood Falls Firefighters

James reads it then turns it so Callie and Will can see.

"Looks good to me," Will says.

Callie shrugs. "I think it sounds snotty."

"They are snotty," I remind her.

She smirks. "Oh, yeah."

Fran lifts her head and stares at it. “They don’t even deserve that.” Then she leans back on the couch, her face pale.

I can’t even imagine what she must be feeling. Phoebe’s disguise had been supreme. I’d never been sure the woman I’d always seen around town was the dowager queen. The king died when I was a kid, and as soon as his son took the throne, Phoebe disappeared.

The rumors were vicious. But they all agreed on one point. King Robert wanted his mother dead. She had some information about the location of his sister, who was the rightful heir to the throne.

He finally succeeded today.

An image came to mind from my childhood. Glimpsing Queen Phoebe around the castle was rare. She was known to be a recluse. I understand why, now. I remember her beauty. She wore her sunflower blonde hair in a thick braid that rested on her shoulder. I couldn’t remember her face, but the image of the shining braid stuck out in my memory. It was so pretty, I’d wanted to touch it, but of course I couldn’t. I’d just bowed as she walked by.

In recent years, rumors still surrounded Phoebe in the town. Nobody knew for sure she was the dowager, but everyone suspected. Fran was said to be her daughter, but nobody believed that.

James rolls the paper into a scroll and does a complicated finger wiggle. The scroll floats above his hand and then catches on fire, burning into ash, which then disappears. The message will burn in reverse in the castle, at whatever place they have designated for emergency messages. Tears roll down Fran's face as she sees it disappear.

"That's it?" Callie asks, her face gentle as she looks at Fran.

"Not quite," Will says. He too glances at Fran, and then his next words come out gentler. "James, do you know why she looked that way?"

"She?" I ask. "She who?" I have no idea which she he’s talking about.

"The dowager queen. When we got to her bedroom, it was burned to a crisp." James’s gaze is on Fran, too. I look over and see her tears have increased, and her hand flew over her mouth again.

"Phoebe was in a burned chair, looking younger than I've ever seen her. Her body was in pristine condition. Not a single burned spot." James pursed his lips and sucked in a deep breath. "She was definitely dead. Of that, I'm sure," he finished in a whisper.

"I know." Fran met his gaze. "She was."

James nodded. "I don't know what spell she had on herself to make her body do that, but she looked beautiful."

Fran sucked in a shaky breath. "She used an aging spell whenever she went in public to help hide her. A sort of glamour." Fran let out a forlorn chuckle. "My Pheebs was a bit vain, always had been. Since she couldn't show off her considerable beauty, she wanted to make sure she'd be beautiful when she died." Fran shakes her head. "She always knew it could happen at any time. That's why we moved frequently and hid the house well. We'd been at this house for a little over two years. We knew, at some point, Robert would catch up to her and remove her influence from the world." She stops to compose herself after a few more sobs escape. "He finally succeeded as you turned up. It's an unlikely coincidence if you ask me." Her gaze swung up to Callie, whose eyes widened like a deer in headlights.