Page 11

Chapter

Ten

“ W hat do you mean missing ?”

I’d helped Margaux into the bathroom to clean up, and now she was seated at my kitchen table looking like death warmed over. The world truly was a strange place sometimes.

“To be transparent, I don’t know. All I know for certain is I’ve been trying to reach her since last night, and she’s not responding.”

“Did you piss her off?” I asked.

“Not that I’m aware of.” She took a tissue from her pocket and blotted her forehead and upper lip. Her skin was a sickly shade of pale green.

“Why didn’t you just call and ask permission to enter? You’d have saved yourself some suffering.”

“Desmond destroyed my phone.”

I passed her a cup of hot peppermint tea. She thanked me then rose and went to the pantry where Mom had kept the sugar. Grabbed the sugar bowl, took a spoon out of the drawer, and sat back down.

“I was going to offer you sugar.” There was an edge of bitterness in my tone .

“Saved you the trouble,” she replied, as she stirred a healthy teaspoon into the tea.

It annoyed me how at home she was in my mother’s— my —kitchen. I made a mental note to rearrange the entire room, starting with the pantry.

“Is the pain charm helping?” I asked.

Cecil had brought one over a few minutes ago at my request. I wasn’t going to heal the woman—she could do that herself—but I could at least offer her some relief. I needed her lucid.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good. Now tell me about Bronwyn.”

“As I said, she isn’t answering my calls. I also tried to contact her through the coven bonds. She’s beyond my reach.”

“You just said you were ousted from the coven.” I stirred honey into my tea. “How can you still use the bonds?”

As with shifters, witches in a coven often shared the unique ability to “feel” one another over a distance. Unlike shifters, the ability to do this was a choice that could be retracted at any time.

“I was ousted from my position, not the coven.” She laid the spoon beside her cup and took a sip. Her hands were shaking. “However, I renounced the coven this morning before coming here. All ties have been severed.”

“Is that smart? With Bronwyn possibly missing?”

“I told you, I couldn’t reach her through the bonds. The only thing they could be used for now is tracking me to you.”

It made sense, but I also knew there had to be more to it. She could’ve found a phone and called to tell me all this. It wasn’t necessary for her to come here. In fact, I was probably the last person she’d choose to turn to in an emergency. Why hadn’t she asked one of the other witches in the coven?

“What happened at that meeting last night?”

She blotted her lip with the tissue again. “Desmond Mace challenged me to a duel.”

Whoa. Duels between coven witches were no small thing. Especially witches as powerful as Margaux and Desmond. “Wait. You lost? Against him ?”

“No. I lost against the rest of them. Except Bronwyn and Billy Lopez. Bronwyn sided with me, and Billy remained neutral. He usually does in things like this. He hates to be the deciding vote. Lucky for him, he didn’t have to be.”

“Tell me how it went down.”

One petite shoulder rose and lowered. “Desmond challenged me for the position of coven leader. I chose the parameters of the duel to minimize the danger to beings in the community. I lost. The end.”

“What were the parameters?”

“One spell each, plus one to block.”

That was the answer I’d been expecting. Witch battles were incredibly dangerous, not only to the witches involved but to anyone around them. To mitigate the risk, challenges, or duels, tended to stick to strict boundaries. Witch A fires a spell; Witch B blocks it as best they can. Witch B fires a spell; Witch A blocks it. Battle over. The challenged witch picks the type of spell and the length of the battle. The victor is decided by a third party—in this case, the coven.

“My spell was clearly more powerful, but Gordon Lu, Carolina Foster, and that old fool Aldrich Redding sided with Desmond.” She took a gulp of tea and dropped her cup to the table with a snap. “Bastards.”

“You said something when I was at your place,” I said. “It was preceded by a threat, which is par for the course with you, but your last words bothered me. You said, ‘I won’t do a damn thing to stop them —even if it was within my power to do so .’ You were trying to tell me the coven was unstable then, weren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you just come out and say it?”

She sighed. “It’s coven business. You aren’t in the coven—and before you get angry about my answer, part of the oath I took when I joined twenty years ago was ‘what happens in the coven stays in it.’ ”

I rolled my eyes. “Did you have the publicity agency for the Las Vegas tourism board draw up the oath?”

“I’m paraphrasing.” She took another, calmer sip of tea. Her shoulders relaxed, and her color looked better. I’d added a few herbs to the mint tea that I’d thought would help her feel better. Help both of us feel better.

I topped off my cup of tea and stared at the bits of herbs swirling in the clear depths. “What makes you think Bronwyn isn’t just home sleeping?”

“I drove by her house. Her car isn’t there—or at her work, in case that was your next question. She’s not there.”

“Drove? Did you come here in a car?” An urgent sort of fear came over me. “Did you park it out front where anyone could see it?”

“I’m not stupid. I parked it behind that little grocery store a half mile away and walked over.”

I calmed down. It wasn’t ideal, but what about the situation was?

“Could Bronwyn have spent the night with someone?” I asked.

“I don’t believe so. She hasn’t had a boy or girlfriend since she moved here.” She tapped her index finger on the table. “There’ve been offers, but as far as I know, she’s sworn off the dating scene. You’d have to ask her why. That’s not my secret to share.”

“If the secret might help us find her, I’d like to know what it is. I wouldn’t tell anyone. I like Bronwyn, you know that.”

“Nevertheless, I cannot?—”

“Her ex-husband left her for another woman,” Maya said. She padded barefoot into the room and took a seat between Margaux and me. “And if that doesn’t tell you what a dumbass he was, I don’t know what will. Bronwyn is a total catch. Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I said. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. I could use some coffee, though. Or tea, if that’s what’s up for offer. Don’t go to any trouble on my account.”

“It’s no trouble.” I rose and loaded up the coffeemaker with freshly ground French roast and water. “Besides, Ida will be here shortly. She’ll want coffee.”

Once the coffeemaker was chugging along, I sat back down. “This ex-husband. Is he a problem? Could he have something to do with Bronwyn’s disappearance?”

Maya’s already washed-out face paled, making me instantly regret my choice of words. “Disappearance? You mean Bronwyn’s missing ?”

“Yes,” Margaux replied.

“We aren’t sure,” I said quickly. Maya looked ready to sprint out the door to look for her, and that was the last thing I needed right now. “We’re still trying to figure out the situation.”

We filled Maya in then went through the whole thing again when Ida joined us.

“I don’t think it’s him. She said he’s remarried and lives in Cleveland with his new wife and their three kids,” Maya said.

“Seems like Bronwyn’s disappearance has more to do with Maya’s soon-to-be ex-husband than her own. Told you to let me scare him.” She poured herself and Maya a mug of coffee and took the seat to my left.

“Next time I’ll listen,” I said, flashing her a small, quick smile.

“Oh gods.” Maya wrapped her arms around her middle. “This is all my fault. I should’ve left Desmond months ago, but I kept thinking I could fix the marriage if I just—” She sat up straight in the chair, threw her shoulders back, and wrapped her hands around her mug. “Where do we start looking first? Her house? Wicked? My— Desmond’s —house?”

“ We don’t start looking anywhere. You’re going to stay here with Ida.” She opened her mouth to, presumably, argue. I said, “If I’m worried about you, I’m not fully focused on finding Bronwyn. You’ll be a distraction, and I know you don’t want that.”

She lowered her head. “No, I don’t.”

“The best way you can help us now is to give us every scrap of information you have on Desmond.” I grabbed a pad of paper from the junk drawer and found a pen. “Business contacts, rental properties, anything you can think of.”

“You really think he’s responsible?” Maya asked.

“We don’t know anything for sure,” Margaux replied, “but if she is missing, there’s a good chance he’s involved.”

I nodded, gritting my teeth against the wrongness of agreeing with her.

“What if she’s hurt? Oh goddess, we have to find her.” Maya squeezed the pen between her fingers until the plastic cracked. “I can’t allow him to hurt her.”

“Bronwyn’s a smart, strong witch. She won’t go down easily,” Margaux said, with an uneasy glance at me. “As Betty has said, we’re not completely sure she’s missing. For all we know, she’s in hiding.”

“In hiding?” Maya didn’t look reassured.

“We don’t know.” I tapped the notepad. “Write down what you know about Bronwyn, too.”

“Okay.” She fiddled with the cracked pen, trying to get it to work.

“I know it’s frustrating not to be in the action, but sometimes the most important work is done behind the scenes.” Ida put her hand on Maya’s shoulder. “I’ll stick around and keep you company while these two are out there looking for her. If I know Betty, and after that time she drank too much spelled wine, stripped to her skivvies on my back porch, and jumped into the Britton’s hot tub, I definitely do?—”

“You didn’t need to bring that up,” I grumbled.

“—she’ll find Bronwyn.”

I wish I had half of Ida’s confidence in me.

Margaux fished a fresh pen out of the junk drawer and handed it to Maya. The familiarity with which she moved around my house was hard to take. It was obvious she and Mom had spent a lot of time together. According to Margaux, they’d been best friends. And if that was true, I might have to reconsider Margaux’s behavior on the day of Mom’s death.

But first, Bronwyn.

I dressed and texted Ronan. He hadn’t returned my last text, but maybe he’d been busy at the pub until early this morning. Weird things were always happening in a place where paranormals gathered to drink.

Need to talk. Text back pls.

I toyed with the idea of telling him about my confrontation with his father last night but decided to wait to talk to him in person for that. He was going to be livid, and I didn’t want him confronting the man without thinking it through first.

By the time I emerged from my bedroom, Maya had filled a page with possibilities. Ida puttered around my kitchen, chatting as she made omelets and toast for everyone. Her amiable prattle seemed to calm Maya, who was busily typing out an email on Ida’s cell phone.

Margaux had removed her coven robe and flipped it over the back of her chair. Her blouse was singed, and she looked like she was in the early stages of a hangover.

“Where should we start?” Margaux dragged her finger down Maya’s list.

I took my seat. “Let’s start with why the coven fell apart and go from there.”

And then you can tell me exactly what you meant by knowing how to bring back my saguaros.

Margaux passed me the paper and clasped her hands in her lap. “It started when we began working with Alpha Pallás.”

I groaned.

It wasn’t even a surprise, last night notwithstanding. When something awful was going on in Smokethorn County, Alpha Floyd was guaranteed to be involved. It was a given at this point.

“Desmond and Aldrich brokered the deal. The coven would be on a retainer for the pack, but we could turn down any request we deemed too dangerous for the coven or anything that was morally wrong. Each job was put to a vote by the coven. It was all very democratic.”

That might be so, but Margaux had been the coven mother. If she’d wanted to do something badly enough, she could overrule them all.

“Things were going well. Money was flowing into the coven, which meant we were able to obtain more high-quality spell supplies, and for his part, Alpha Pallás didn’t ask for anything we weren’t willing to do—until that damned cursed grimoire.”

“The Weret-hekau Maleficium . The book he had me procure for him.”

“Yes. He was hellbent on tracking down that blasted book, but the coven felt it was too big a risk. A person being cursed was one thing, an entire coven being cursed was another entirely.”

“When you turned him down, he backed me into a corner and had me get it for him,” I said bitterly.

“Yes. I had no idea you would do it. It seemed too big a risk for any witch, but then I was reminded whose daughter you are.” She smiled. “And you did it. Scared the hell out of us all, but you did it. With help from your grandfa?—”

I gave her a look that could’ve melted ice.

She cleared her throat. “However, the cursed book was only the beginning. The alpha seemed to have crossed a line that day, and his requests became progressively darker. We’d gone from casting protection and surveillance spells on his office to him asking for hex bags and curses, and finally…” Her gaze flicked away from mine. “Murder.”

“He asked you to kill? Doesn’t he know that’s an impossible ask for a coven?”

“I believe he did know and didn’t care.”

“So, what happened when you turned him down?” Ida set plates in front of Maya, Margaux, and me then took her own seat.

“He appeared to accept it. At first, the coven was with me. But, one by one, they began changing their minds. It was as if they’d lost all sense of morality. Like they were brainwashed or under a spell.” Her gaze shot to mine. “They weren’t, of course. I would’ve been able to detect a spell. It certainly felt like it, though. Desmond has always been a problem, and Aldrich is a greedy old opportunist, but when Gordon and Carolina jumped on board, I knew something was terribly wrong.”

“They were okay with committing murder ?” Holy goddess, I hadn’t expected that.

“They didn’t want to actually commit the murder, but they were open to the idea of the coven being involved and resented me for rejecting the idea without consulting them first.”

“Bunch of cowards,” Ida said.

“Indeed. This reckoning has been a long time coming.” Margaux forked up a bite of egg, pausing before putting it into her mouth. “I thought putting Aldrich in charge of potion and charm sales would distract the forgetful old fool, but he obviously hasn’t forgotten how to betray his coven leader.” She ate the bite of egg and quickly shoveled in two more.

“So it was Aldrich who was fleecing senior citizens out of their social security checks.” Ida pointed at Margaux with her fork. “Should’ve known that old codger was up to no good.”

Margaux’s eyes went wide, and she gulped down the food in her mouth. “He did what ?”

I filled her in on how the senior community in La Paloma had been suffering because the coven’s prices were too high for them to afford heal and pain charms, and how Fennel, Cecil, and I’d been helping them out.

A crimson flush began at her shoulders and crawled up her throat to her face. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see smoke streaming out of her ears.

“Overcharging seniors for pain charms? That’s despicable. I-I didn’t know.”

Weirdly, I believed her. She appeared completely nonplussed, the shock on her face genuine.

“Is he the one who sold the power charm to my stalker, too?” I asked.

Her flush deepened. “No. That was me. I wasn’t aware of who your stalker was when I crafted it for him. He was a friend of a friend. Bronwyn’s already questioned me about it.”

Did I believe her? Maybe. And that was more trust than I’d have been willing to give her yesterday.

“Tell me about the coven members who turned on you,” I said.

“Carolina is a snob. Her magic is strong, but her will is weak, so she’s incapable of being any sort of a real threat. Same with Gordon, though he’s not a snob, just weak. If you fear being hurt more than you fear losing control of your spell, you’re useless.”

“And Desmond is lazy,” I said.

“They all are, really.” She sighed in a way that told me this fact annoyed her. “Aldrich used to be a strong witch. I suppose he could be one again if it was important enough to him. Also, Desmond might be lazy but he’s still an earth elemental, and I don’t have to tell you how dangerous they can be.”

No, she didn’t. Desmond being an earth witch worried me. I might be stronger now, but I still didn’t have the confidence I’d had before Mom died. And Margaux was right; if a witch’s will was weak, they weren’t much of a threat.

Margaux chewed and swallowed another bite. She didn’t appear to be enjoying the meal; it was more that she knew she’d need the fuel.

“Bronwyn’s phone is either turned off or she’s not checking it,” Maya said, finally looking up from Ida’s cell. “I’ve sent emails to both addresses using my online email. I didn’t tell her where I was, only that I couldn’t wait to see her when I was back in town.” She shrugged. “I changed the passwords of all my email programs, but I don’t trust Desmond not to be tracking it somehow.”

She tapped her nail on the phone’s screen. “I also sent her an anonymous email from a customer requesting a Maya death mask,” she said. Considering Bronwyn’s clientele, a Mayan artifact wouldn’t be viewed as a strange request. “Leaving off the ‘n’ was an obvious move, I know. I couldn’t help it—I was feeling desperate.”

“Nothing?” I asked .

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

I looked at Margaux. “Is it possible Bronwyn renounced the coven before you, and that’s why you were unable to contact her using the bond?”

“No. I would’ve felt it. She might’ve done it by now, though.”

“I don’t get it. Desmond wanted to kick you to the curb and take over, but don’t you need seven witches in a coven? Why would he alienate Bronwyn, too? Now he’s down by two, possibly three if we count Billy Lopez.”

Margaux cringed at kick you to the curb . “Billy’s still bonded to the others,” she said. “And you don’t need seven witches to form a coven. Surely you know that much.”

“Nope. The only lesson Mom ever gave me about covens was that it was best to stay away from them.”

“What were you thinking , Lila?” she grumbled under her breath. In a louder voice, she said, “A coven is strongest with seven, but even a five-member coven isn’t without power. The connection makes them strong. Don’t underestimate them.”

“Don’t intend to.” I shoveled my breakfast down and motioned to Margaux to do the same. We needed to get moving.

“I’ve got a question,” Ida said to Margaux, as she watched us power down her food with the table manners of two starving gorillas.

“Yes?” Margaux asked between bites.

“Who did Alpha Floyd ask the coven to bump off? Was it Betty? I bet it was Betty.”

I was pretty sure it was me, too.

Margaux sat back in the chair and let out a sort of hiccup-burp behind a napkin. My own burp was out in the open and loud enough to score an “ew” look from Ida.

“No. It wasn’t Betty.” Margaux laid down her fork. “However, if it had been, my answer would’ve been the same. I don’t kill people—even people I disagree with —unless they try to kill me first.” She sent me a pointed look. “Not because I am a white magic witch, but because I am not a monster.”

“Then who did Floyd want dead?” Ida stared intently at Margaux. I was less interested in the target—with Floyd it could be anyone—than the fact that he’d asked a coven to kill. That was a big misstep on his part.

Margaux looked directly at me. Hesitated.

Uh-oh. Suddenly, I found myself very interested in Floyd’s target.

“His son.”