Charmed to Death

“Remember what I told you? Unless it’s an emergency, you don’t get to wake me up in the middle of the night just to feed or pet you. Not unless you’re feeling really upset.” I knew better than to truly expect them to respect my wishes. Midnight and Sunshine were cats, after all, even if they were familiars. And they epitomized the nature of “cat” perfectly.

It is an emergency. The food dish is empty. And I think Granny is outside.

I snorted, glancing at my phone. It was seven forty-five, and my alarm wasn’t set to go off until eight-fifteen. But I knew my chances of getting any more sleep were null and void. I turned off my alarm, set the phone back on the nightstand, and—holding Midnight around the tummy—I slowly scooted my way up to lean back against the headboard.

“All right, you win.” I knew how dangerous those two words were when spoken to a cat, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her no. “Okay, I’m getting up. You go wake up your brother and go wait by the food bowl. I’ll be down as soon as I’ve showered and dressed.”

Midnight let out a long-suffering sigh, then turned and jumped off the bed, marching toward the door. If she had been human, her shoulders would be sinking right now and she would probably give me an injured look. As it was, she reached where she thought she couldn’t see me just outside the door, and then I heard her thunder off down the stairs. Oh, the drama of it all!

***

Downstairs, I found coffee waiting for me, along with a couple homemade sausage muffins ready to heat up in the microwave. As I settled down at the table with my breakfast, along with a massive cup of milk-and-sugar infused coffee, I glanced over at the cats. They were scarfing down breakfast so fast that it occurred to me I should put something like a golf ball in their dish to keep them from eating so fast. Both of them were chunking up, and their coats were sleek and beautiful.

Turning back to my phone, I pulled up the news headlines. Ever since I had left the Crown Magika, I had tried to keep up on the inside events going on there. But I was no longer in the loop and, even if someone there thought to inform me, they’d be breaking the rules. So I flipped over to the Terameth Lake Gazette website and scanned the headlines.

Avis Trenton had been arrested again, this time for public nudity. She had gotten drunk and jumped naked into the town square fountain. I grimaced. Avis was fifty-eight and quickly becoming one of the town drunks. Her antics were famous, but left me feeling sad because Avis had crumbled when her husband ran off with the gardener, taking every cent he could lay his hands on. She was alone, she couldn’t afford the mortgage, she had no job other than being a spectacular mother, and now she was left to care for three kids under the age of ten with no help from their father.

In other news, the Jenkinson cows had broken out and there was a massive roadblock on Belfry Drive. The website hadn’t been updated in half an hour so there was a good chance it had been cleared by now, but I made a note that when I went down to the shop, I’d avoid that route.

And then another article caught my eye. I scrolled down to it. Sometime during the night, someone—or something—had scratched up Molly Meagher’s car. The picture was appalling. Long scrapes dug into the side of the driver’s door had left massive scratches in the metal, and they were so big that I knew they hadn’t come from any mountain lion or bear that I could think of.

The microwave beeped and I carried my muffins back to the table, where I sat down. As I stuffed one into my mouth, I realized it was too hot and I waved my hand briskly in front of my lips to cool the heat that spread through my tongue and my mouth.

As the heat dissipated, I stared at the picture of Molly’s car. What the hell had attacked it? Maybe a saber-toothed tiger was running around the village? Considering the things that came out of Hell’s Thicket, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was something other than just a pissed-off bear or some teen wearing a Wolverine claw set.

After I finished glancing through the news, I picked up the stack of mail. As I leafed through it, two were easily recognizable as bills. Three pieces were for Granny, and three were for me. Mine were stiff, probably birthday cards. My birthday was Saturday—on the nineteenth. I tucked them into my purse. The ones for Granny, I left by her side of the table.

Yawning, I chugged down the coffee and readied myself to leave for the day. I had promised Granny I would take today at the shop if she would take tomorrow for me. Verity was throwing a party for me on Saturday night, but tomorrow night was the first date I’d agreed to in a couple years, and I wasn’t sure exactly how I felt about it.

Tomorrow night, Colton was taking me out to a movie and a late dinner. I had sworn up and down to myself that I wouldn’t date again, at least not for a long time. Now here I was, breaking my vow.

But people could change their minds, right?

I liked to think I was calm and collected, but beneath the surface, I was nervous. I had no clue how to act on a date. I didn’t even know how to date anymore. I hadn’t gone out with anybody in years, and the last time I had, it had been the breakup from hell. She had hurt me so bad that I had sworn off both men and women and focused on my work to the exclusion of anything else. But when Colton had asked me out, he was so calm that it soothed my fears.

Sure, I was fifty-two, almost fifty-three, and I didn’t want a steady boyfriend, but the thought of having dinner with a good friend and possibly, maybe, dinner leading to a kiss made me smile.

And Dagda Bruin could go suck lemons.

***

The night before, when Dagda found out I was going to go out with Colton, he had blown up and picked a fight with me. I couldn’t figure out why he was being such an ass. Dagda had a girlfriend, and I had no interest in dating him. We butted heads in the worst of ways, and he was acting like an older brother.

I had told him in no uncertain terms that “thank you but I have a brother and I wouldn’t listen to him, so I’m not about to listen to you. Tend to your own garden. I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”

He had stormed out, a brooding look on his face.

Granny tried to smooth my ruffled feathers. “The two of you fight worse than anybody I know,” she had said. “It reminds me of when you and your brother Billy lived here.”

“I don’t know why Dagda rubs me the wrong way,” I said. “I don’t dislike him, but I sure like to needle him. He’s so quick to blow up.”

“I wonder,” Granny said. She pulled out her computer and ran some computations, then—sputtering—she leaned back and laughed her head off. “Okay, that answers it. No wonder the two of you butt heads. You’re a Scorpio with an Aries moon and he’s a Virgo with a Capricorn moon. That alone ensures the pair of you will be sparring for the rest of your lives. Just be careful that you don’t let it go too far. I can see an argument blowing up big someday to where you might not be able to mend the rift.”

Sparring partners or not, I didn’t have time to mull over my fractious friendship with Dagda.

“I’m not going to be the one to constantly keep the peace. I don’t think of him as a frenemy, but we’re close. Anyway, I don’t have the time to worry about it.”

***

I shook away thoughts of the argument and stretched. I wanted to get in a workout before hitting the shop, so I said goodbye to the kittens, slung my workout bag over my shoulder, and headed out for the day. Granny was still asleep, and I didn’t want to wake her. She had put in a late night helping a friend clear a ghost out of her house and needed her rest.

As I headed to the truck, keys in hand, the skies opened and rain lashed down sideways, soaking me before I could make it to my truck. I slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door, but I was already drenched to the bone. If I’d been in a T-shirt, I could have won a wet T-shirt contest. I wiped the water off my forehead, glancing in the rearview mirror to make certain my eye makeup was still intact. Satisfied, I slid the key into the ignition and eased out of the driveway.

Chaz waved as I entered the gym. The owner was a buff young man who had asked me out about a dozen times. He was too young for me, though, and the last time he had asked, I told him firmly but politely to stop. I liked Chaz. He was fun and he was a good personal trainer, but I lectured him on crossing boundaries. He apologized, and we were good. I chalked his eagerness up to the fact that he was lonely. His ex-girlfriend had left him with an inferiority complex, and he seemed out to prove that he wasn’t a loser.

“Hey Marquette,” he said. “What are you working on today?”

“Legs. I had a PT appointment. Therapist says I’m focusing on cardio too much, and that I need to build the muscle around my knee again or it could blow out.”

“What kind of exercises does your therapist want you to do?” Chaz asked.

“I need to do some knee-friendly weight-bearing exercises. While I change, if you could think up a few for me, that would help.” I handed him the piece of paper from my therapist. “Here’s a few she recommended. It will give you an idea of what I need.”

By the time I had finished donning my workout gear, Chaz had come up with a simple routine for me. Hopefully, it would help. My knee had gone out on me in September and it was still hurting. If I didn’t get the muscles strengthened up soon, I’d have more problems than just aching when the rains hit. We put in a grueling forty-five minutes and, after thanking him for his help, I hit the showers, changed, and headed down to the shop.

***

So, I’m Marquette Sanders, and I was one of the top agents for the Crown Magika. But earlier in the year I ended up on the wrong side of the asphalt. I was taking a turn at around a hundred and forty to a hundred and fifty miles per hour, chasing down a rogue vampire, when my motorcycle skidded out from under me, catching my heel and dragging me long enough to shatter the bones in my leg. Given how easily I could have lost my life, I consider myself lucky.

Though I heal quickly, given that I’m witchblood, it was soon apparent I’d never fully be whole again. I lost my job with the Crown Magika. They offered me a desk job, but I couldn’t face the transition. I loved my work too much. So I walked away. I sold Duchess—my motorcycle—and resigned myself to a slower life as a civilian.

Now I work with Granny—my goddess-mother—in her magical shop, Shadow Magic. In an unexpected twist, I’m now also working pro bono for the police department, helping out on investigations when they need an extra hand. Dagda Bruin—the chief of police—is so strapped on his budget that he’s given me a special investigator’s license. No, life isn’t turning out the way I wanted it to, but I’m learning to adapt. And I’m finding that happiness is a choice, rather than some elusive prize to be won.

***

I no sooner opened the doors when one of our regular customers rushed through. Charisma Mathers was twenty-five years old, with a waifish body and boobs that were way too big for her frame. They were about as natural as her hair color. While I still had the same blond hair I’d been born with, her blond hair was definitely from a bottle. There was nothing wrong with that, except it didn’t look good on her. She had skin fit for a redhead, or maybe a rich mahogany.

“Hey Charisma, how goes it?” I took my place behind the counter as she dropped her purse on the glass.

“I need your help. I’m frantic!” Her eyes were wide, and by her breathy voice, I could tell she was panicked.

“What’s going on?”

As flamboyant as she looked, Charisma wasn’t one given over to being a drama queen. In fact, she was one of the smartest women I’d met in Terameth Lake.

“I think Jake’s having an affair. I need something to reveal the truth.”

“Jake?” I stared at her. She was going out with a man who was devoted to her, and I couldn’t possibly see him running around on the side. Then again, I didn’t have that much experience in the romance department. “Did he tell you that he was?”

She shook her head. “No, he didn’t. But I can feel it. I know he’s up to something.” She slapped the top of the counter, and I gently grabbed her hand.

“You don’t want to do that to a glass display case. While the glass is strong, you don’t need to smash your fist through it. Now tell me, why do you think he’s sneaking around? What signs have you noticed?”

She heaved out a sigh, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “He’s been late the last three nights, and he doesn’t have any excuse for where he was. He hasn’t even said work’s being a problem. He just tells me to quit nagging and to give him his space. He’s never said anything like that to me before.”

That did sound odd. But there could be a lot of reasons behind his behavior.

“Are you sure he’s not in any financial trouble, or maybe having problems at work? He could have a lot of stress on his shoulders.” Work stress could be a real bear for a lot of people. And finances had broken up more relationships than sex.

Charisma stared down the countertop. She worried her lip. “The truth is, Jake and I’ve been through the wringer over the past couple years. We’ve been trying to conceive, and for three years it just wouldn’t happen. Then, early this year I got pregnant, only to have a miscarriage. We pulled through, and he was there for me when I needed it. I don’t know what I would have done without him. Then his mother died a month after that—in April. I stood by him and did my best to focus on his needs.”

“That’s a lot for the two of you to handle in such a short time,” I said.

“Yes, but by August, we were feeling in a clear headspace again. We’ve been together ten years, Marquette. I know Jake. If he was having trouble on his job, he would tell me. We haven’t kept secrets from each other in years. No, this feels different. He’s keeping something from me, and I can’t help but think it’s another woman. I’ve never been this worried about our relationship.”

I thought about it for a moment, then asked, “Would you like a tarot reading? It might be able to sort out some things. Then we can decide what direction you need to move in.”

She gave me a little shrug. “I suppose. Do you have any time today?”

“I can see you at four.” We scheduled certain times during the day for readings. If other customers came in during that time, there was a sign on the counter along with a bell in case they needed help. But we tried to keep the tarot appointments to the beginning and end of the day, so our customers got used to the flow. When Granny and I were both here, it didn’t matter as much. One of us could work the counter while the other gave readings.

“I’ll be back then. Thanks, Marquette. I know I’m right, but I suppose I should get some sort of confirmation first, and a reading would be the best way.” She left a little calmer than when she had entered the shop, but she still looked dejected.

I penciled her into the schedule, and then looked around. The herbs needed restocking, and I should probably rearrange a couple of the displays so they’d look better. But before I could make it to the stockroom, the door bells jingled again and Jillian stomped in, looking ready to kill.

She ran the cat café next door. I had adopted Midnight and Sunshine from her, and we had become good friends.

“Hey—” I started to say, but then I read her energy and stopped. Something was wrong. She was shooting off enough sparks to start a wildfire. I hurried around the counter. “What’s wrong?”

“Henry broke it off with me last night. Well, good for him. He’s an asshole and I want to blast him into outer space.” Jillian headed over to the table in the corner and sat down. She rested her elbows on the table. “I can’t believe I ever thought he was one of the good ones. Crap, how can men turn into jerks so easily? I feel like an idiot, thinking he was worth spending my time on. I should have just followed my gut and focused on the business and my cats.” A widow, Jillian had resisted dating for over five years. In October she had met Henry, who seemed pretty nice, and they had been dating for a little over a month.

“Did he give you a reason?” I wondered if Venus was retrograde, or whatever planet it was that ruled over romance and relationships. I wasn’t the person to ask about astrology. Granny handled that aspect of the shop’s magical services.

“Oh, he told me why, all right. He told me I had a fat ass, that I should go on a diet because he doesn’t like poking so much padding. I called him a fuckhead and told him to take his lame-ass shriveled-up old dick and hit the road.”

I blinked. Well, that was unexpected. I’d pegged Henry for a decent guy and I was usually a good judge of people. But apparently, not in this case. “What did he say?”

“He laughed and said that nobody else would even give me the once-over at my age, and that I should be grateful he showed me any attention at all.”

I cringed. That wasn’t good. “So, he’s still alive?”

Jillian grimaced. “Unfortunately, yes. I slapped him, and then he called me a whale, and then I threw a pie at him and he left.” She let out a sigh. “I think I’m more angry at myself for ignoring the signs than at him for what he said. I can’t believe he duped me, Marquette! I feel like an idiot—like some angsty teenager crying over a two-timing boyfriend.”

My first instinct was to hunt him down and beat him up, but I resisted. Even with the residue from my injuries, I was in far better shape than he was, and I could have clocked him a good one before he knew what was coming. But violence wasn’t the answer in this case, and I could help Jillian better by listening than by acting all super-heroine.

“What a fucking jerk. I can’t believe he said those things to you. Well, I can believe it, I just don’t want to. I’m so sorry, but you’re better off without him.”

“Oh I know, I really do. And I’m doing my best to resist the impulse to ask you for a poppet so I can stick a few pins in it. I would love to deflate his ego, preferably in front of someone important.” She looked up, shaking her head. “What’s wrong with some of these men? I know women can be horrible too, but it seems like more of my female friends end up with the short end of the stick than the guys they’ve been with.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” I said. “That’s why I don’t do relationships.”

“Yeah, but you’re going on a date tomorrow night,” she said, her scowl lifting a little. “I just hope you have better luck than I did.”

“You know that all I’m looking for is an enjoyable evening. Colton is very nice, and he’s an extremely talented witch, but I don’t expect it to go anywhere. We’re just going out to get some dinner and watch a movie.” It occurred to me that Jillian would make a great girlfriend, but I knew she didn’t swing that way and I’d never press in where it was unwelcome.

“I know that’s what you say, but is that how you really feel?”

I thought about it for a moment, testing my internal bullshit meter. It rang true, for the most part. I did detect a little bit of hope that I hadn’t expected, so I said, “Ninety percent true. There’s a little part of me that hopes it turns into a second date. I can’t truthfully say I’m interested in a relationship, but dating can be fun. I’ve had my share of partners over the years. Though the last one left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. So bitter I’ve been gun-shy ever since.”

“Do you ever think you want to get married?” she asked.

That, I could answer without hesitation. “Nope. Not a chance. I’ve never aspired to wear a wedding dress, nor to walk down the aisle, be it with a man or a woman. I’m set in my ways. Granny and I get along because we leave each other alone for the most part. We’re not trying to change each other, or control each other, and we’re not in a relationship. Well, other than she’s my goddess-mother and we’re friends.”

“That makes sense. You’ve always lived alone, haven’t you?” Jillian asked.

I nodded. “All of my adult life, so this roommate business is new. The Crown Magika provided us with apartments. I do want to buy myself a house in the next year or two, but not for a while yet. But when I do, it will be furnished my way, painted in the colors I choose, and kept in the fashion I prefer. I like companionship, but I don’t want a partner.”

“Are you sure you’re not protesting too much?”

I laughed. “No, I’ve just had to defend my choices over the years, so I get a little pushy about it. If I had a dollar for every person who’s told me that I’m going to regret not having children or being married when I’m on my deathbed, I’d be fucking rich.” I was about to ask her if she wanted something cold to drink when the door opened and Dagda came in. Before I could say anything, he motioned for me to follow him into the storeroom.

“Come on, I need to talk to you.”

“I’ll be right back,” I told Jillian, narrowing my eyes as I followed Dagda. “Dude, ask before you drag me into our private storeroom,” I started to say, sitting down at the lunch table. He frowned at me like I was a gnat, and I let out a snort. “Seriously, you need to learn some manners.”

“Never mind that. Something weird is going down. I have no idea what to make of it.” The look on his face silenced my irritation.

“What’s happened?” I was worried now, and decided to ignore his rudeness.

“All five of our jail cells are full. We’ve broken up five different fights today, and I’m not talking about scuffles. I’m talking about all-out brawls and fistfights. And it’s barely ten-thirty. I’ve got every car out there trying to keep up with the list of people who are mixing it up. The 911 system has logged more calls this morning than it’s had the past month.” He sounded both exasperated and confused.

“What the hell?” Whatever it was, it didn’t sound normal. “What are people fighting about?”

“That’s what gets me. Two fights were over a woman. I also had to break up a domestic violence incident where a wife was beating up her husband. She claims he was cheating on her. The fourth call involved a pervert trying to crawl in a woman’s bedroom window. And the last one, well, a couple got into it in Melton’s Hardware, where they began to tear up the aisles and throw stuff at each other.” He looked positively bewildered.

“Well, that’s different.” I scratched my ear. Dagda did have a problem.

He gave me a beleaguered look. “Is there a full moon? Is everybody just going stir-crazy because of the rain? The holidays are coming up, maybe that’s spurring this on? Whatever the case, I wasn’t kidding when I asked about the moon. Do you know if there’s any astrological reason behind this? Because for the life of me, we’re running out of places to put people.”