Page 7

Chapter

Six

I f I wanted an explanation for that remark, I’d have to ask Bronwyn, because Margaux sure as heck wasn’t going to share.

“We have to get Maya out of there as soon as possible.” Margaux tapped a blood-red nail against her lower lip.

“How far away do I have to take her for the effects to wear off?”

“Take her?” Her brow dipped. “What are you planning to do, throw her into a potato sack, sling her into your trunk, and drive to San Diego?”

“Yuma, actually. I thought I might hit the casino for a couple hours. Maybe play a little blackjack.” I shrugged. “Give the spell time to wear off and bring home a jackpot or two.”

“Magic won’t work on casino grounds.” She gave me a cool smile. “Our coven handles the security spells for both the Quechan and Cocopah tribes.”

“I wasn’t going to cheat,” I grumbled. “There’s a chance I might win on my own, you know.”

“The odds are against it.” She let out an impatient hiss of breath, stirring the herbs on the hex bag. “I’d need an urgent reason to call an emergency coven meeting. It would be smarter to continue as planned, seeing as our next meeting is tomorrow night. It begins at nine p.m. Desmond is always late.”

“Huh. It sounds like you’re suggesting I kidnap Maya while her dickhead husband is at the meeting.”

Margaux gave me a serpent smile. “Why would you need to kidnap her? I thought you said she hired you.”

I hate it when a lie bites me in the backside. “Fine. Any suggestions on what to do with her once I have her? I’m thinking a lucidus spell and a sleep charm to help her recover.”

“You’re an earth witch, same as Desmond. You would know better than anyone how to reverse the spell.” She did a game show hostess flourish over the hex bag. “What ingredients did you detect?”

“Three different soil types, around twelve common garden herbs, two uncommon, and one rare, but obtainable with a lot of effort. And blood to seal it, of course. I’m assuming he used Maya’s.”

“What rare herb?”

“Demon-grown saffron.”

“Someone made a deal.” She cursed under her breath. “And the blood. Goddess help us. Dark magic.”

I wasn’t into covens or any sort of witchy hierarchy, to be honest. Still, there was a certain sort of sacredness in the oath a witch took to become a member of a white magic coven. To betray it using dark magic was like walking into a church and pissing on the altar.

It was sacrilege.

“Whatever you do, take her to your property afterward and keep her there. Lila’s protection spell is strong, I know that as well as anyone.” She gave me a pointed look.

If she was waiting for an apology, we’d be here all damn night. She’d entered my property with Alpha Floyd against my wishes. She was lucky I hadn’t done worse than make her sick.

“For how long?”

“Long enough for Desmond to be dealt with,” she said.

“Tuesday, then.” I stood, making sure I kept my feet on the paper so as not to track dirt on her polar white carpet. “I’m worried about leaving her alone with him for even that long.”

“Me, too, but it’s the best option we have.”

“Margaux, why don’t you just bring Desmond to heel? You’re the coven mother. You have the right to discipline him.”

She followed me to the door, our feet making crinkling sounds on the paper. A single strand of black hair came loose from her tight chignon and fell across her face. It made her look younger, softer. Sometimes, I forgot she wasn’t much older than I was.

“The coven isn’t—” She lifted her chin, smoothed the stray hair back into place. Her shoulders stiffened, and the familiar coldness returned to her eyes. “Proceed as I’ve instructed, or the coven will come for you, and I won’t do a damn thing to stop them—even if it was within my power to do so.”

The next thing I knew I was on the porch with the door slammed in my face. Pissed and more than a little confused, I jogged down her ridiculously clean sidewalk to my Mini.

Once we were back on the road, Cecil let out a low, keening sound.

“Yeah, I know. She scares the crap out of me, too.”

The Cinco de Mayo fiesta was a blast.

Ida and Cecil drank too much wine and danced together on Gladys’s porch while Gladys, Fennel, and I stuffed ourselves full of snacks. Meredith the mandrake hung out on a table under the outdoor speaker and moved her leaves to the music. The Brittons, Jacqueline and Xandra, showed up a few minutes after I did, and Trini Orozco came shortly after.

We listened to good music, drank decent wine, and chatted until ten, when my other tenant, Maria Cervantes, stormed onto the porch and yelled at us to shut up.

“She acts like we didn’t invite her,” Ida harrumphed .

We took the party inside, finishing up the wine and playing blackjack until midnight. Trini trounced us all.

The moon was bright and high in the clear desert sky when Ida, the boys, and I walked to my cottage together, Cecil flung over Fennel’s back, Meredith’s pot tucked into Ida’s sweater pocket.

“Coffee tomorrow?” Ida asked.

“Definitely.” Fennel, Cecil, and I watched her walk home from my front porch swing, losing sight of her behind an oleander bush that needed to be trimmed.

I grabbed the ancient, handheld radio on the porch beside the front door and flicked it on with my thumb, careful not to turn up the volume too much. “Your Song” by Elton John was halfway over. I knew the words well enough to sing along. Cecil stirred a little beside me. Fennel’s tail swayed lazily.

Tonight had been a fun distraction. It hadn’t, however, made me forget how unsettled I was feeling about my conversation with Margaux and the follow-up with Bronwyn afterward.

“What’s going on with your coven? Margaux was cagey as hell about it.”

“You know I can’t tell you that, Betty,” Bronwyn had snapped, which was not at all like her.

She’d then proceeded to answer my questions yet tell me nothing of substance. That had pissed me off, so I’d hung up after telling her I’d be in touch tomorrow.

I gazed up at the moon, basking in its steady presence in the clear night sky. “Something is wrong.”

Fennel let out a soft meow. Cecil snored.

“The answer is right there. Right on the tip of my brain.” I scowled. “That’s not a real saying, is it? What I mean is I need to think.”

I unzipped my boots, removed my socks, and walked down the front steps into the grass. My uncertainty was eating away at me. Fennel leapt off the swing, barely moving it, and landed on the grass beside me .

“You’re like a ninja.” I stroked his soft head. “Cecil and I could’ve used you today. Margaux scared him.”

“ Meow ?”

“You know why. Because she’s scary.”

We strolled to Red’s grave together. Once the eldest saguaro in the park, Red had been the last of the seven—Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Violet—to die after Mom’s death.

More than anything, I wanted him and the other saguaros to grow back. Not only because their presence had once powered the protection spell around the Siete Saguaros, but because I missed them. Especially Red. He’d been my confidante during some of my lowest times as a kid, and I ached to talk to him again.

Some kids talked to friends and family. I’d talked to a cactus. Call it an earth witch thing.

I planted my feet flat on the soil inside the rock-ringed grave, crouched, and flattened my palms against it, too. The music, low and soothing, had switched to the immensely appropriate, “Close to You” by the Carpenters.

The song was on my lips as I curled my fingers, sinking the tips into the soil. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to do this so easily. The dirt had been unyielding, unhealthy. Over the last few months, it had started to come around, mostly because I’d started to come around and had taken better care of it.

We were both finding our way back to each other.

My toes dug into the soil, and I closed my eyes. My stomach fluttered the way it did when I jumped off the high dive at the public pool, and suddenly cool earth cushioned me from all sides.

The lack of air underground would’ve killed anyone else. An earth elemental didn’t need to worry as long as there was magic in the soil. Even a tiny amount would do.

Thankfully, the Siete Saguaro contained far more than a tiny amount, and for the first time since my mother’s death, I was feeling a connection with it. It was weak, and didn’t last long, but it was enough that the soil wasn’t draining my magic anymore. I could live with this.

For now.

My fingers grazed Red’s dormant roots, feeding magic into them. I wanted him to know I hadn’t forgotten him. That I loved him, and I’d find a way to bring the saguaros back if it took my entire lifetime to do it.

My mother’s presence came to me then, unexpected and welcome. Here, deep within the soil, I felt close to her again. I wanted to sob with joy at the feeling.

You know Margaux better than anyone , I thought to her. What is she up to? I know not to trust her, but should I be more afraid?

Mom didn’t answer, of course. She was three years gone, and I was imagining this conversation the same way I was imagining the response of Red’s roots. The earth brought me these small comforts for the same reason I worked the soil with fertilizer, compost, and magic. Because we loved each other.

Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten we were supposed to be a team, on the same side. Not adversaries, but partners like Fennel, Cecil, Ida, and me.

Family.

My selfishness brought tears to my eyes, and the earth soaked them up, a mother drying her child’s eyes.

I relaxed into her embrace and let my consciousness burrow away.

“Betty? Dig yourself out of there. Coffee’s ready and I’ve got biscuits in the oven.”

Ida’s voice—and if I’m being honest, the mention of coffee—goaded me awake. I swam to the sound and scent, breaking free of the soil and taking a slow, gentle breath to acclimate my lungs.

It was like surfacing after a long meditation, my respiration and mind were quiet, my body unused to movement. I rolled my head and pushed to my feet.

Ida perched on the porch swing, sipped coffee from a mug, and waited for me to come around. This wasn’t her first time witnessing my slow crawl out of the ground, and it wouldn’t be the last. She’d dug me out of the earth with her bare hands to save my life after the saguaros died and I gave them too much magic in my attempt to bring them back.

Ida was my home team, my best friend, and my partner in questionable activities.

My partners in literal crime were Fennel and Cecil. Mostly Cecil, for obvious reasons. Although Ida was always game for a-little-less-than-legal shenanigans, I tried not to involve her in anything that might get her in too much trouble.

She stopped the swing with the rubber toes of her neon pink sneakers. “You all right?”

“Yes.”

I sucked in a breath as every inch of my skin heated to the point of pain. Steam wreathed me in hazy clouds. My body absorbed the vapor, and magic slid beneath my skin and surged into my bloodstream.

“ Whoa .” Her blue eyes widened, and a tendril of silvery-white hair fell from behind her ear. “I was going to tell you to go rinse off while I get the biscuits on the table, but I don’t think you need to.”

I smiled at this woman who was so important to me. She was eighty, and I was thirty-five, yet our relationship wasn’t maternal in any way. We were sisters—family. The way Fennel and I were family. The way Cecil was.

The way Ronan was.

Kind of.

“I might not need a shower, but I definitely need breakfast. Let’s go inside. I want to pick your brain about something witch-related.” I snatched the radio off the porch. The batteries had run out sometime during the night and needed recharging.

“Okay. Fennel was out here earlier keeping watch, but he took Cecil home after I showed up. Guess he figured I was the next shift.” She followed me into the house, taking care not to spill her coffee. “I gave them both some breakfast. You’ve got some good partners.”

“Yes, I do.” I popped the old transistor’s batteries into the charger and turned on the radio in the kitchen. The bouncy sound of “Crocodile Rock” perked up the kitchen.

“One of my favorites.” Ida shook her hips to the beat.

“No one does it like Sir Elton. I’m going to splash some water on my face. Be right back.”

“I’ll pour you a cup and set out some of Trini’s jam.”

Twenty minutes later, I’d plowed through three biscuits and was halfway through filling Ida in on the situation with Maya Reeves. She’d accompanied me on several jobs, so sharing things with her didn’t break my client confidentiality agreement.

“That bastard .”

“Yep.” I finished my second cup of coffee and went to pour another. I’d be shaking like a bobblehead on the dashboard of a tractor in an hour, but it was worth it. Ida’s coffee was superb.

“You want me to scare the hell out of him? I could raise some dead animals and walk them into his bathroom while he’s showering.” Her laugh was decidedly evil. I loved it.

“No, but I’m keeping that in my back pocket for the future.”

She grinned over the rim of her coffee mug.

“So, what do you think of all this?” I asked. “I know you have an opinion.”

“Desmond’s a small man with an eggshell ego, and Maya’s right to skedaddle her ass out of there.”

“I mean about Margaux.”

“Oh, her .” Ida set her mug down and leaned back in her chair. “I have concerns about Margaux Ramirez, but your mother trusted her. They were close. Lila wasn’t the sort of person to get close to people outside her inner circle, you know that.”

“True. Mom spent most of her life as a travel witch. Hard to make lasting connections when you’re only around for a short time.”

“And yet you’ve managed it. ”

“Only you and the boys,” I said.

“And Trini, Gladys, the Brittons, Bronwyn. Beau from the head shop. The faeries at the coffee shop. The Desert Oasis seniors. Baek Ye-Joon. You brought that mage right into our circle of friends.”

“Joon’s a good guy.”

“I know it. And let’s not forget that sexy pub owner, Ronan Pallás.”

“Hard to forget him.” I took a sip of coffee.

“And, as much as I hate to bring it up, your demon grandfather,” she said.

“ What ?” Coffee went down the wrong pipe, and I coughed until my eyes watered.

Ida jumped up and whacked my back. “Sorry. I know this isn’t something you like to talk about. Let’s move on.” She retook her seat. “I know you think Margaux betrayed Lila, but I’m not so sure it wasn’t part of her plan all along.”

“Margaux’s plan?” I blinked the tears out of my eyes from my choking episode.

“No. Lila’s. She performed the spell on a day when she knew her tenants would all be at Ms. Berry’s service, called you knowing you were too far away to stop her, and had Margaux convinced that she needed to stay away because what she was doing would harm the coven.”

Nothing Ida was saying was new to me yet laying it all out like that made it seem different, somehow. “You think Margaux was another of Mom’s victims?”

“Victims?” Ida’s kind blue eyes grew sad. “I’d never put it like that. Lila was doing something dangerous. She protected her friends in the best way she could. The only person who might be considered her victim is you. If I’m being honest, I was pretty annoyed with her for a long time for what she did to you. A last-minute text message to me would’ve saved you the trauma of finding her body.”

“It’s best it went down the way it did. If I hadn’t seen her myself, I might not have believed she was really gone—though the saguaros dying would’ve cemented it, I suppose.”

We sat in reflection for a long moment. The radio played a song I didn’t recognize, which was unusual.

Ida spoke first. “Have you ever asked Margaux exactly what happened?”

“No.” I’d been far too pissed to listen to any of her weak sauce explanations, so I hadn’t bothered.

“It occurs to me that if you want to know what’s motivating Margaux now, it might be smart to find out what motivated her not to come to your mother’s aid that day.”

“She’ll lie to me. Liars lie.”

Ida’s gaze went all the way through me to the other side, seeing everything, as usual. “If you believed that, you wouldn’t have taken that hex bag to her today.”

I brushed biscuit crumbs into a small pile on the table. “As I told Bronwyn, if I hadn’t been forthright with Margaux, I would’ve had to face down the coven. That’s not something I can handle.”

“Utter bunk. Bronwyn might’ve bought that excuse, but I don’t. I wouldn’t be your bestie if I didn’t call you on your bull.”

“Bull?”

“If you thought for a minute that Margaux Ramirez wouldn’t be rightly appalled at Desmond Mace’s behavior, you wouldn’t have gone to her.” Her penetrating gaze grabbed mine like a fist and squeezed. “The minute Cecil brought you that hex bag you’d have nabbed Maya Reeves and damn the consequences. It’s not in you to ignore someone in need, and if saving that woman meant you had to take on every witch within a hundred-mile radius, you’d have done it.”

I twisted uncomfortably in my chair as Ida’s truths wrung me dry.

“You went to Margaux because something in you believed that when it came down to it, she’d do the right thing.”