Ireturned home with an antique hammered copper cuff that Coco had given me. She wouldn’t let me leave without it. She said it wouldn’t give me the protection my necklace had, but it should keep whoever was screwing with me out of my head. One could hope.
“Anyone need anything?” I asked the bar in general, as I stepped behind the counter, hip checking Owen out of my way.
“Could I have an oolong tea?” Hepsiba, an old crone, was in her usual spot near the window.
“Sure. Coming right up.” I extracted leaves from a glass container and began preparing the tea. I offered almost as many tea varieties as I did alcohol. Wicches loved their teas. Waiting for it to steep, I realized my hand was resting below my collar bone, right where my mother’s pendant used to lay. Copper cuff or not, I worried I might not live long enough to pay off this bar. Or Coco. Or, you know, see next week.
After delivering the tea, I carried a tray of empty glasses and mugs into the kitchen. Owen followed me in, carrying more. “So, what’s been happening with you?” His piercings glittered in the bright overhead lights.
“Owen, do you get a lot of people trying to pick you up, people who are drawn to shiny objects?”
He smirked, raising one dark, glittering eyebrow and waiting for me to answer the question.
What was the question again? Oh, right. I counted off on fingers the weird shit that had been going on in the last twelve hours. “A wolf tried to kill me. An eel wrapped itself around my neck and tried to drown me. I was trapped in a vision with the Kraken. A different wolf threatened me. Or not. Not sure if I overreacted to that one. I was trapped in another vision. This one of rats eating me alive. And someone stole the only thing I had from my mother.”
Owen stood with his mouth open, a tray of glasses forgotten in his hands. “All of that happened since I saw you yesterday?” Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t even know which one to ask about first.”
I took the tray from him and placed it on the counter by the dishwasher. “Do I seem different to you?”
After a moment, his eyes took on a faraway gleam and then he flinched. “Uh…that’s weird.”
“What?” I took off the cuff and placed it on the center island, in case it was causing any interference.
“Wait. What is that and why did taking it off just throw you into focus?” Owen leaned away from me, as though I was no longer trustworthy or safe.
How to explain? “I used to have something. From my Mom. It protected me, I guess.”
“The necklace,” he said.
“Sam?” a voice called from the bar.
“Be right there,” I shouted back, before focusing on Owen again. “How did you know about that?”
Shrugging, he said, “I’ve never seen it, but you touch it all the time. Through your t-shirt, I mean.”
“I do?”
Nodding, he stepped closer. “Yeah. It’s just how you stand, left arm across your chest, holding your right elbow. Right hand on the bump under the collar of your t-shirt. But,” his voice softened. “I don’t see that bump anymore.”
My throat tightened with tears I wouldn’t cry. The loss hollowed me out, but I refused to break down.
“That’s what was stolen?”
Nodding my head, I swallowed. “My mother gave it to me. Made it for me.” Tears threatened, so I turned, dashing them away. Picking up the cuff and returning it to my wrist helped me feel less exposed.
“Why didn’t you ever tell us your Mom was a wicche?” Owen said it so matter-of-factly, my heart skipped a beat.
“Why do you say that?”
“I felt the protective spells when I first hugged you. Is that why you don’t like being touched? Or is it the…” His voice drifted off as a finger pointed vaguely to his own neck, no doubt referring to the scars he’d seen trailing out of my collar and cuffs.
“I just don’t like it.”
“Gotcha,” he said, clearing his throat. “Anyway, I’d assumed Helena or one of the other wicches who come in here made it for you.” He leaned a hip against the counter and stared at me a moment. “That’s what’s different. I’m not only picking up the earth magic of the wolf, like usual. There’s a deeper resonance today. You have your own inherent magic. How has that never manifested?”
It was my turn to shrug. “The necklace?”
“Damn. That’d have to be one powerful charm to hide your magic not only from us but from yourself.”
“Owen,” I asked, biting my lip. “Do I really seem different to you? Dave and Clive said my scent was off.” I don’t know why that bothered me so much, but it was like I couldn’t trust who I was anymore.
“Well, my sense of smell is nowhere near as good as theirs, so I can only go by feel.” He took one of my hands and held it, as though evaluating me. Dropping it, he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and turned to leave. “I need to think on this.”
The phone rang and someone from the bar called my name again. I pushed through the kitchen door and found the receiver laying at the end of the bar. Owen helped people waiting for service, while I picked up the phone.
“Slaughtered Lamb, this is Sam.”
“Tara’s working tonight, and she’s willing to talk with us.” As usual, Dave ignored niceties.
“Anything special I should do or bring?” Should I make sure to keep crosses away from her?
“She’s a bartender in an island-themed bar that caters to tourists. The fuck? Order a fruity drink and bring money.” Click. Such a charmer.
* * *
There was onlya faint grumbling when I kicked everyone out early. Even though Owen had agreed to stay, I shoved him out the door at the end of his work day. I didn’t want to be responsible for messing up his love life. Pulling on my pea coat, I checked to make sure I had cash in my pocket, and then waited for Dave at the stairs. My first succubus. I was weirdly giddy, considering.
Dave walked out of the kitchen with a paper towel in his hand. “Here. Eat them while they’re hot.” The scent of brown sugar and vanilla had my mouth watering. He pounded up the stairs while I stared wistfully down at the six, fresh-from-the-oven cookies he’d dropped in my hands.
Taking a bite of the rich ambrosia of the gods, I paused, eyes closed, savoring the deep, rich chocolate encased in warm, buttery cookie. “I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled.
“I was talking to the cookie.” Damn, the man could bake.
“Are we leaving or what?”
“Yeah, yeah.” I stuffed the rest of the cookie in my mouth, folding the paper towel carefully around the rest and putting them in my pocket for later. We had a date, those cookies and me.
The Tonga Room was a tiki lounge in the basement of the Fairmont Hotel. A narrow pool dominated the center of the dim room. Colored lights hidden behind fake palm trees illuminated the surreal scene. Floating on a grass-roofed raft in the center of the pool was a three-piece band. Around the pool were bamboo tables for two, four, and eight people, all with their own thatched roofs. It was ridiculous, and I loved it.
Dave walked straight to the bar, tucked into the corner of the island paradise. Ignoring him, I leaned against the bamboo rail surrounding the pool and watched a petite woman on the twinkle-lit raft sing The Girl from Ipanema while her bored-looking bandmates accompanied her on the keyboard and drums.
Lightning flashed across the ceiling. A moment later thunder rumbled through the room and rain began to fall in the pool. The band kept dry under the thatched roof of their raft. Reaching out, warm pseudo-rain spattered across my hand.
“Sam.”
Yeah, yeah.
The woman behind the bar was a fantasy island girl, with long, dark curly hair, luminous, deep brown eyes, and the curves of a goddess. She was all doe-eyed innocence. Damn, I bet her victims never saw her coming.
“Hurricane, please.” I took the stool next to Dave.
Her sweet smile lit up the room and made me feel content and understood. “A woman after my own heart.”
“Sam, this is Tara. Tara, Sam.” Dave grabbed a handful of nuts out of a bamboo bowl. When Dave was out in public, he wore a glamour that altered his natural dark red skin and full-black eyes. His skin was currently a warm brown and his eyes a deep whiskey color. I was so used to his normal shark-like gaze, the glamour was throwing me off.
Tara slid a drink in front of me, crossed her arms on the bar, and leaned forward. Her impressive breasts were on display, but in a way that made it seem completely unconscious. She wasn’t highlighting her lady bits. She was just taking a break and leaning. This woman was a master.
“Put ‘em away, Tara. No one here is interested,” Dave grumbled.
One perfectly manicured nail ran along Dave’s hand. “I remember a time when you were very interested.”
A lecherous grin slid across Dave’s face. “You were the star of all my adolescent fantasies. Pre-adolescent, too, come to think of it.”
Her laugh was deep and throaty, a sexy joke between sweaty lovers in the middle of the night, in the quiet of their rumpled bed. “Not anymore? Ouch.”
Smirking, Dave said, “You’ve met Maggie, right?”
Tara stood straight and adjusted her dress to better cover her soft, fleshy parts. “I have. Now, what do you two need?”
A waitress interrupted. Tara quickly made four fruity, umbrella drinks before the server rushed off.
“Someone’s fucking with Sam.” He tipped his head toward me. “She’s getting caught in visions she can’t get out of on her own.”
Tara actually looked at me for the first time.
“Someone’s trying to kill her.” He watched Tara study me. “Can you tell? Is this coming from our neck of the woods?” A demon, he meant.
Tara took my hand and leaned forward, resting her nose on my neck and breathing me in. A shiver went down my spine at the contact. “You’re a unique one, aren’t you?” She turned to Dave. “I’m not sensing anyone we know.” She gave me her full attention. “But I am sensing cookies.”
Grinning, I took out my pack of cookies and passed her one. She ate while returning her attention to Dave.
“Someone new in town?” He grabbed more nuts off the bar, glancing at the couple who walked in, heading for a table close to the pool. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled in the room before it began raining in the pool again.
“Not that I’ve heard, but you know they consider my kind riff-raff.”
“Okay. If you can keep an ear to the ground, I’d appreciate it.” He turned to me. “Finish up. Tara’s working, and we’re in the way.”
As if on cue, a woman sat down at the bar and eyed Tara with interest.
I took a long, last draw, fished two twenties from my pocket and left them next to my empty coconut.
Tara placed her hand over the money, tapped the bar with her finger, and winked. “You come on back and see me again, Sam.” When she turned to the end of the bar, directing her smile at the lone woman waiting, I felt cold. She’d taken her light and warmth away, and I already missed her. I also realized that she’d slipped a scrap of paper under my hand. Damn, she was good.
Dave pulled my jacket to get me moving. “Stop staring.”
Stumbling off my stool and pocketing the note, I followed him out. As we climbed the dark, narrow staircase to the street entrance, I pulled out the note and read. ‘2 a.m. Come back alone.’ I actually had a confusing moment wondering if Tara was asking me back to put the moves on me before I realized she just didn’t want to talk demon business in front of Dave.
When the cold, San Francisco wind hit me, my lust-clouded mind cleared. “Now what?”
Dave turned, brow furrowed. “‘Now what’ what?”
“I mean, where are we going now? Who are we questioning?” I clapped my hands. “Who’s next on our list?”
A bell rang out in the dark as the Powell Street cable car made it to the bottom of one hill, across the intersection, and started down the next steep drop. The cable car held a quiet smattering of people. It was too late for the tourists. These looked like locals heading home. The acrid scent of burning wood brake was pungent in the air but there was something under it. Something familiar. Something that raised my hackles.
I scanned the darkened streets. Pale yellow streetlights reflected off wet asphalt. We were being watched. I could feel it. My eyes went straight to a narrow gap between buildings more than a hundred yards away. A figure stood, dressed in dark clothes, hoodie pulled up, barely silhouetted against the gloom. He stepped out and walked quickly, silently, to the corner and turned down Mason Street. It was the wolf from the Marina. The entire encounter had lasted only a second, but I knew it was him. I could feel his curiosity from here.
“No list. I’m taking you home. I’ve got other shit to do.”
I shook it off. “Come on. There’s gotta be other dem—”
Dave cleared his throat and gave me a dirty look.
“Relatives. I was going to say relatives.”
“Sure you were.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket and hit the fob. His car chirped as the doors unlocked.
Pouting, I dropped into the passenger seat and tried again. “I’m sure there are other people you know we could talk to tonight.”
“Probably.” He started the growling engine and gunned it up the steep hill. “But I’m taking you home. I’ve got a date and after spending time with Tara, I need that date right now. So, Nancy Drew, I’m dumping your ass as quickly as possible so I can get laid.”
“Rude.” I crossed my arms, staring out of the windows as the city went to sleep.
“Am I making you walk? No. I’m a fucking gentleman.”
Pulling a cookie out of my pocket, I grumbled, “Yeah, yeah,” as I ate.