Page 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

We got home around midnight. While we ate, Nightshade led us in a couple of personality games that helped me understand my fellow coven members better. And I had clicked with both Familia and Breony. I had nine new numbers in my phone—I already had Nightshade’s, and of course, I lived with Astra. I felt an odd sense of satisfaction, like I’d been accepted into something that I didn’t even know I needed.

“So, I’d ask if you were happy that you went through the initiation, but I think I can tell. So, do you want to talk about tonight, or do you just want to process?” Astra was good at recognizing that sometimes, it took time to think.

“I want to talk about something that happened earlier tonight, before the initiation,” I said. “But first, I want to go change my clothes.”

“Are you hungry?” Astra asked.

I laughed. “After the spread they had there? No, but some cocoa would be nice.”

“Go on. I’ll make some hot chocolate as soon as I change, too.”

We headed toward our bedrooms. I found Miss P. sprawled on my bed. She rolled over on her back when I entered the room and turned on the light. Stretching her paws up, she let out a squeak. I ruffled her belly, gently—she liked belly rubs—then carefully stepped out of my dress and hung it in the back of the closet. I slid into a pair of pajama shorts and a sleep shirt, then brushed my hair back into a loose ponytail, removed my makeup, and headed back to the kitchen.

Astra was in her PJs, and she was measuring cocoa, sugar, and milk into a pan. We had premixed hot cocoa in the cupboard, but somehow we never got around to using the packets. Homemade cocoa always tasted better.

As she whisked away, I found a pair of candy-cane mugs we had—they were white and red striped—and pulled out the whipped cream from the fridge. We did buy canned whipped cream—we didn’t use it often enough to keep the homemade whip from spoiling. As I settled in at the kitchen nook, I yawned.

“So, what is it you wanted to tell me?” Astra said, bringing the kettle to a simmer.

“This afternoon—shortly before we left for the ritual—I got a call from Zandre. I think it was around five-thirty.”

“Has he let go of the dead girl yet?”

I sighed. “Yeah, I think he has. But in the process, he’s decided he wants to take me out to dinner.”

Astra froze, whisk in hand. “What?”

“Yeah, that was my reaction, too. I told him I’d have to talk to him tomorrow, but Auntie, what do I do? I don’t want to date a vampire. I’m not interested in dating a vampire. And given how obsessive Zandre gets, I don’t want him fixated on me.” It was always better to fly under the radar when it came to vamps.

Astra poured the cocoa into our mugs and carried them over to the table. “So, do you think he’ll be reasonable when you tell him you don’t want to go out with him?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “He was so obsessed over Denise. Maybe I should just tell him that there’s a rule among matchmakers, that we are not allowed to date our clients. He’s smart, I don’t know if he would believe me, but I suppose I can give it a try.”

“Is that actually an industry standard? Can he look it up to find out if you’re lying? I only ask because he seems like an extremely intelligent person. He has to be in order to be the city’s representative to the Northwest Vampire Collective. And if he found out you were lying, how would he react?”

“I’m not certain, to tell you the truth, in terms of how he would react. As to whether it’s an industry rule, not exactly. It’s not against any law, but ethically? Matchmakers don’t look highly on other matchmakers who feed from the pool, so to speak. It wouldn’t be good for business. I suppose I should just tell him the truth, and hope he accepts it. After all, what can he do to me?” I paused, then added, “Don’t answer that.”

We drank our cocoa and went to bed. That night, I dreamed about shadows in the dark, following me, and glowing red eyes from the hidden corners of the room.

* * *

Morning came and I dressed for the woods, then called Crystal as I headed downstairs.

She answered mid-yawn. “Hey, Maisy, how did initiation go?”

“Good, actually. I was surprised by how formal it was. And you? How did your quest go?”

“I think I did well,” she said, a smile in her voice. “I should know later today whether I got in. I think…I learned a lot about myself last night,” she added. “I’m glad I went through it, regardless of Nightshade’s decision.”

“That’s the way I felt,” I said. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to take a few months for both the quest and the initiation to settle in. My subconscious processes on its own schedule and I can’t rush it.”

“What are you up to today?”

I glanced at the clock. “I have to meet my cryptozoology class in about an hour. We’re going on a field trip to Hollow Hill.”

“What the hell are you going to do out on Hollow Hill? I wouldn’t go there if you paid me to.” Crystal let out a sigh. “Don’t go, Maisy.”

“I have no idea why we’re going, but I assume we’re going to look for…I have no clue, to be honest.” With both Astra and Crystal reacting so strongly to the idea, I was starting to question my decision.

“Better you than me. What about the rest of the day?”

“Tonight I’m having dinner with Ginger Lily. What do you say about meeting for coffee this afternoon?”

“I’d like that,” Crystal said. “Two-thirty? My place will be swarmed, so what say we meet at Café Galleta? It’s a new coffee shop that went in at Linden Park Mall?”

Linden Park Mall was a mall in name only. Oh, there were a collection of about ten shops under one roof, but most of them weren’t a big pull for customers. If I remembered right, Chamber’s UnderTakings was there—a mortuary—as well as a thrift shop, a butcher’s shop, a florist’s, and a used bookstore. Linden Park also had a gun shop, a tavern, and an army recruiting station lined up next to each other—not exactly the best grouping, in my opinion.

“Sure, why not? At least they’re guaranteed customers who want to sober up, or who need to think before finalizing funeral plans.”

“Don’t forget the bookshop—readers love to browse with a coffee in hand.” Crystal laughed. “All right, I’ll see you there at two-thirty.”

“Later, then!” As I padded into the kitchen, I felt tired, but my mind was racing. It felt like the ritual had supercharged my thoughts.

Astra wasn’t up yet, so I fed Dahlia and Miss P., both of whom were prancing around my feet, then I made myself some coffee and toasted an English muffin. When it was hot, I buttered it, laid a piece of cheese on both sides, then added a pre-cooked sausage patty, and popped the sandwich in the microwave for a few seconds. As I pulled it out—wrapping it with a napkin—I scribbled a note for Astra and propped it on the table, and slung my purse and tote bag over my shoulder. Coffee and muffin in hand, I headed for my car.

* * *

Hollow Hill was more of a cliff overlooking the area where the water from the strait filtered into both Puget Sound and the beginnings of the Salish Sea. There was a narrow drive that led to a camping ground right below the crest, then a hike to the top, where a thicket spread over part of stony top. I had no idea why it was called Hollow Hill. If I’d learned when I was younger, I’d forgotten the info during the intervening years.

I’d thought about the field trip, given both my aunt and best friend were dead set against the idea, but I saw things through and when I promised to be there, I showed up. But I promised myself that—if something seemed off—I’d leave.

As I ascended the steep grade toward the campground, there were a couple cars in front of me, and at least two behind me. I couldn’t see who was in them, but figured they were part of the class. There were about a dozen people in the class, total, and I knew at least four had said they wouldn’t be able to make it.

By the time we reached the turnoff into the campground, I’d finished my sandwich and most of my coffee, and I was starting to feel uneasy. The area was pretty, but then again, the entire peninsula was gorgeous. But pretty didn’t mean safe, and Hollow Hill had a reputation that was supposedly well-earned.

I eased into a parking spot next to another car and stowed my purse under my seat. I tossed my keys into my tote bag, which contained my phone, a notebook, pens, and my tablet, along with gloves, earmuffs, a couple protein bars, and a bottle of water, and swung out of my car, into the bracing chill.

The skies were clear, but it was cold—around forty-two degrees—and I pulled my gloves out of my tote bag and slid them on, grateful I’d remembered to bring them. I was wearing a suede jacket and zipped it up, and I put on my earmuffs.

“Hey Maisy, how goes it?”

I glanced to my right. There stood Kyle, a tall, dark-haired witch who was more brains than brawn, but he washed up pretty nice. He wore gold-rimmed John Lennon glasses, his hair was down to his shoulders and pulled back in a ponytail, and he was wearing a black leather jacket, black jeans, and a pair of Doc Martens. I thought he was around forty or so, and he had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.

“It goes,” I said. I shivered. “I’ve never been here before, at least that I remember. Have you?”

“Once or twice, but I didn’t go prowling around much. The energy feels thick here, you know? Like it’s trying to choke you.” He pointed across the parking lot, to a trailhead. “The prof said to meet over there.”

“I’m glad you were listening. Apparently, my head was in the clouds and I missed that.” I flashed him a smile. Kyle and I had talked a couple times, but until now, I’d never noticed how much his eyes sparkled, or how throaty his voice was.

“Walk with me?” he asked, turning toward the trailhead.

I joined him. It was a large parking lot, but I realized why. Not only was it for the campers, but there were spots where people could hook up their RVs.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Kyle asked.

“I’m a matchmaker,” I said. “I own Married At First Bite, a new shop downtown. I also give tarot and psychic readings, and if need be, I can investigate hauntings or cleanse houses.”

“I’d love to own my own business,” Kyle said. “Right now, I’m working security at the Lace & Bow.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard of that,” I said.

“The Lace & Bow is a leather club in Port Townsend,” he said, tensing up. He must be waiting for my reaction.

“Tavern?”

“Fetish bar,” he said, shaking his head. “They serve booze, but it’s more of a club, to be honest, with burlesque shows on weekends, and spotlight nights during the week. I’m head of security, which means I make sure the bouncers are where they need to be, that they do their job and not needlessly rough anybody up. I also keep a tight watch on the magical age verification system. We don’t dare let minors into the club or you know people will get up in arms about it.”

“People get bent over the simplest things,” I said. “Seriously, though, that must be an interesting job.”

It wasn’t one I’d want, and I had never set foot in a fetish bar in my life, but at least it sounded interesting. It did make me wonder, though, about Kyle himself. Was he just there for the paycheck, or was he into everything they offered? Hell, you don’t even know what they offer, woman, I thought. So stop with that train of thought before you completely derail yourself.

“I suppose,” he answered, shrugging. “I guess it’s like being a camera guy on a porn set. Once you’ve seen one bondage show, you’ve seen them all. Oh, it’s a talented group they have there, but it’s not fully my flavor. I’m about to open my own business soon—an IT business.”

Part of me wanted to ask if he was vanilla, or just a mixed swirl of flavors, but we came to where the professor was waiting.

Jason Willows, the teacher, was leaning against the sign that marked the trailhead. As Kyle and I joined the small throng, Jason began to count aloud, pointing to each one of us.

“We’re missing one student out of those of you who said you could make it. We’ll wait for another five minutes, but the minute she gets here, we’ll head out. If she doesn’t show in ten minutes, we’ll forge on. I don’t want to leave anybody straggling behind, not in this area of the woods, but we can’t wait all day.”

He glanced up at the sky. “We’re due for a clear morning and afternoon, so hopefully we won’t get rained out, though around here, you never know. Just wait fifteen minutes and the weather changes again.”

One of the other students raised her hand. “Professor Willows, what are we looking for today?” Some of the students stood on ceremony with Jason, mostly the youngest ones.

“As I told you the other night, we’re looking into wild places today. These are the areas where worlds intersect, where portals form.” He frowned, looking around. “Does anybody know if Lizbet is going to join us today? Did she talk to any of you?”

Nobody volunteered any info. Even after just a few sessions, I instinctively recognized her as the problem child of the group. She was the one who wanted to know if we’d be tested on everything the teacher said. She was squeamish, hated going outdoors, and I would be surprised to see her here today. I’d figured that she would skip the trip. It counted as part of the grade, but Jason offered other ways to make up the work.

A few moments later, Jason grew tired of waiting. “All right, we’re leaving. I’ll tape a note to my windshield that we’re already into the hike and it’s too late for her to join us. She could, of course, but I don’t want any of you wandering alone in the woods here. Not on my account. I’ll be back in a moment, so if you have to use the facilities, please do so now. We’re going to be walking for about half an hour before we come to the Hollow Hill. Also, pick a forest buddy. I don’t want anybody drifting off on their own.”

As he returned to his car to leave the message, I looked at Kyle. “Want to be my forest buddy?” I asked.

Kyle grinned. “My pleasure,” he said.

A minute later, Jason returned and, walking two by two up the narrow trail, we headed out, into the wild.