Black Hat, White Witch Page 4

  “How do you earn a living?” Clay shoved a blueberry muffin in his mouth. “This town is itty-bitty.”

  “I hunt unicorns under the full moon, saw off their horns, and grind them to powder I sell online.”

  As far as hair bows go, Colby giggle-snorted way too much to pass for the real thing.

  “Her store.” Asa bit into my bacon while holding my gaze. “It’s remarkable.”

  The natural redness in my cheeks kept my blush from showing, but I got the sense he read me just fine.

  “Believe it or not, the apothecary pulls its own weight. Lotions, hand soaps, bodywashes, lip balms. Teas, oils, tinctures, poultices. All made using family recipes that are at least as old as you are, Clay.” I sipped a little OJ. “I might employ the use of secret ingredients here and there, but I do no harm.”

  A shift of Clay’s hips as he located his cell caused his side of the booth to groan for mercy.

  “Dam—” He bit off the curse with a blush. “Darn it.” He threw money on the table. “I have to go.”

  “Have fun.” I added enough cash to cover my meal plus a tip. “Try not to get shot.” I smiled. “Again.”

  Asa picked my contribution off the pile, pushed the folded bills back to me, then added his own.

  Uncertain what was happening, I broke down and asked him, “What are you doing?”

  “I ate the food.” He indicated his clean plate. “The least I can do is pay for it.”

  “As I’m sure you heard, my meal was on the house.”

  “Yet you paid.”

  “Well…yes.” I shoved the money back. “I don’t like taking advantage of people.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “See you tomorrow.” Clay chucked me under my chin. “Have I mentioned how good it is to see you?”

  “Only every five minutes since you accosted me outside my shop.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” His gaze dipped to the floor. “You know how it is.”

  “I do.” I kicked his shin under the table. “I don’t hold it against you.”

  “Later, ladies.” He waved a big hand. “And yes, I included you in that, Ace.”

  “Keep me updated,” his partner warned. “Routine transports can go sideways fast.”

  “A transport?” I swirled my OJ. “Now that I know I’m part of a twofer, I feel less special.”

  “The transport is cover to explain why we’re here without alerting anyone to your location.”

  “What he said.” Clay took one last swig of his coffee. “We’re doing our best to fly under the radar.”

  “Who sent you?” I set down my glass. “Specifically?”

  “The director.” Clay left it at that. “Personally.”

  The director had a vested interest in me. I had zero interest in him. But I wasn’t surprised to hear he had bided his time until he could use a copycat killer, a fact I had yet to verify, to lure me back into the fold.

  “Email me copies of the case files.” Involvement from the director changed things. “I checked last night, and my work email is still good.” The director knew my location, so there were no worries about him using my login to find me. “Send it there.”

  Aside from the usual Bureau junk that clogged everyone’s inboxes, I discovered a mountain of email Clay had sent me over the years. The tone of the first one, sent a week after I disappeared, ripped my heart out through my nose. I couldn’t finish reading it, and I couldn’t bear to open the others. Deleting them was out of the question, so I filed them away.

  The way Clay rubbed the base of his neck told me he was thinking about those emails too.

  “I’ll have to clear it with the director,” Asa said. “Until your other request is approved or denied, we have to treat you as a rogue agent, and that means no sharing sensitive details of an ongoing investigation.”

  “I understand.” I cut my eyes toward Clay, whose poker face was nonexistent. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

  Trailing a finger across his forehead, he turned and left with a smile for the proprietress.

  Asa rested his elbows on the table. “What did he mean by that?”

  “Are you serious?” I snorted a laugh then realized he meant it. “Oh.” I cleared my throat. “He was asking if he’s got sucker stamped on his forehead.”

  “You two read each other well.”

  “We were partners for a long time.”

  Thirty years, give or take. A blip in time for him. A lifetime for me.

  “I’ve never seen Clay so animated.”

  Given my earlier faux pas, I verified, “Was that a joke?”

  “Yes.”

  “It was a good one.” I allowed myself a laugh. “Tell Clay the next time you talk. He’ll love it.”

  “I’ll do that.” He rested his chin on his fist. “You aren’t what I expected.”

  “Yes, well, I’m still evil deep down where it counts.” I scooted down the bench. “I’ve also got to go.”

  “Because Clay left.”

  “Because I have a store that opens in fifteen minutes.”

  “Ask him about dinner,” a tiny voice coaxed from my hair.

  “Asa—” A frown pinched my lips when he shut his eyes. “Are you okay over there?”

  “Yes.” His eyes, when he opened them, were as black as I imagined my soul to be. “I’m fine.”

  “Maybe dinner isn’t a good idea.” I shifted my body to shield other diners from him. “Your eyes are…”

  “Apologies.” He lowered his head. “I’ll text you about dinner.”

  “You have my number?”

  From this angle, I caught a hint of his smile. “It is printed on your business cards, yes.”

  Laughter spilled down from the top of my head, which drew his dark gaze up to Colby.

  I had been wrong, I realized. His eyes weren’t black. They were a crimson so deep as to be fathomless.

  And he had caught me staring at him again.

  Dinner with Asa was a bad idea.

  Too bad those were my specialty.

  4

  As much as I would have loved to drive Colby home before heading in to work, especially with Black Hat scrutinizing me, I needed to see Camber and Arden to reassure them I was okay after yesterday’s drama.

  With a social circle of one, Colby lived for take your moth to work days.

  A chorus of haunted moans greeted me when I pushed into the store.

  “Welcome to…” Camber glanced up from behind the counter. “Rue.”

  “Rue?” Arden shot out from the back room. “You’re here.”

  Hand behind my back, I twisted the lock and the sign to give us a moment alone.

  “We need to talk.” I examined the sidewalk through the glass but saw only locals. “Let’s go in the back.”

  The back room was my office, the supply closet, and our workspace all crammed into one.

  Three of us barely fit without bumping elbows, which would have been fine if they weren’t spitting mad.

  “I thought we agreed you would stay home.” Camber tapped her foot. “Why are you here?”

  “I agreed to consider staying home.”

  “You freaked when that guy came in yesterday.” Arden folded her arms. “Why aren’t you freaked now?”

  This was the worst part, having to tap-dance around the truth to keep them safe from my world.

  “The guy who came into the store wasn’t the ex.” I had to temper this lie with facts to smooth the lumps I had created in my story. “I was shocked when I heard his voice, and I flew into panic mode.” That much was one hundred percent real. “I let you guys think the worst, and I’m sorry for that.”

  The harsh frowns knitting their foreheads eased a fraction as they absorbed what I was telling them.

  “Who was he then?” Camber’s scowl cut deep. “Why was he looking for you?”

  “He’s one of the cops who handled my case.” I kept to the mental script I’d recited for Ms. Hampshire. “He heard my ex
was in the area and came with his partner to warn me.”

  “Why not call you?” Arden drummed her fingers on her elbows. “Why drop in without warning?”

  They were not making this easy. It warmed my heart. But it also had me breaking a sweat.

  “I changed my number.” I was honest there. “I stopped checking my old email address.”

  “How did they find you?” Camber quit tapping her foot. “It was the store, wasn’t it?”

  “It wasn’t the store.” I wouldn’t let them shoulder that blame. “It was my tax returns.”

  Okay, so most paras didn’t pay taxes. We paid tithes to our covens, packs, clans, prides, etc.

  A bucket of doubt dumped over Camber. “You used your home address?”

  “I used a business mailing service that gave me a physical address, which was their store. Then I paid the fee to have my mail forwarded. Rinse and repeat seven times, with each address in a different state. The last stop is my post office box here in town.”

  “They staked out the post office.” Arden pulled on her bottom lip. “I saw that on True Crimes once.”

  “Maybe.” I had to get out the rest. “They want me to help them put my ex away for good.”

  The girls reached for me, each one taking a hand. Their palms were sweaty, and their hearts beat loud.

  A bare whisper passed Arden’s lips. “Are you going to do it?”

  “Can they keep you safe?” Camber squeezed hard. “Don’t risk it if they can’t protect you.”

  “I owe it to any future victims to try.” That much was the truth. “Nothing is decided yet.”

  “You’re considering it, though.” Camber straightened her shoulders. “We can take care of the store.”

  “That’s what you mean.” Arden clued in after her friend. “You’re going away.”

  “Not forever.” I dropped their hands and pulled them in for a hug. “Not for long, I hope.”

  “We’ll support your decision,” Camber vowed. “We can bring in Gran to help if we need extra hands.”

  Miss Dotha wasn’t a witch, but she and Camber came from them. So did Arden’s people for that matter.

  The girls were human, but that drop or two of distant witch blood made them compatible with what our store made and sold. Miss Dotha wasn’t interested in a full-time job, but she pitched in when I left town.

  Every year, I closed shop for a whole week to take Colby somewhere new. Vacations were new for me—it wasn’t a thing my family had ever done—and I had grown to love our annual girls-only adventure.

  “I would appreciate that.” I turned them loose. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”

  “You can count on us.” Arden found her smile. “We’ve got your back.”

  A grin curving her lips, Camber leaned in. “Does this mean the scorching hot guy isn’t bad news?”

  “I didn’t say that.” I wasn’t sure what to think of him. “Plus, he’s too old for you.”

  With his heritage, he was likely near or past the century mark. For him to have attracted the attention of Black Hat, and gotten recruited, he must be powerful…and dangerous. Agents fit a certain, lethal profile.

  “Age is just a number,” she countered. “I’m legal.”

  “Nineteen is barely legal.”

  “I’ll be twenty in three months.”

  “He’ll be gone tomorrow.”

  A knock on the front door sent Arden scurrying to answer, figuring it must be one of our regulars.

  Not five seconds later, she scurried right back, hiccupping so hard she couldn’t get out the message.

  “He’s baaack,” Camber teased. “Are you sure I can’t have him?”

  “Ask your gran that.” I bared my teeth at her. “I dare you.”

  Anyone who knew my history would have shivered at the display, but these girls only saw a smile.

  “I better go see what he wants.” A half hour between visits was borderline stalking. “Be right back.”

  On my way to the front, I enjoyed the view far too much. I wished I could blame the uptick of my breath on the cloud of teen girl pheromones I left in the office, but I worried the warmth in my belly was on me.

  Yet another downside to my cover story. Men in town either revered me like the Virgin Mary for my past or avoided me like my emotional baggage might leap into their trunk if they so much as smiled at me.

  For the most part, it was a good thing. Celibacy kept men out of my house and out of my life.

  Our lives.

  I didn’t want a relationship, and vibrators made choosing the perfect man easier than going around asking for a peek in your date’s pants before you made it to the restaurant.

  But the fact I was now wondering about the fit of Asa’s pants was a bad sign.

  Maybe I had been around humans for too long if the first para to cross my path melted my panties.

  Asa made no move to enter the store, so I joined him on the sidewalk. “Forget something?”

  “Clay called.” He rolled up his shirtsleeves, which struck me as somehow obscene. “He’s in trouble.”

  I was too.

  Forearms were not an erogenous zone.

  “Oh no,” the tiny voice from my hair squeaked. “What happened?”

  Never in my life had I been more grateful Colby and I didn’t share a mental bond, as some familiars did with their practitioners. Here I was, mentally shopping for Asa-inspired vibrators, and I forgot about her.

  Oh, yeah.

  This was bad.

  “What she said.” I recovered my mental dignity. “What’s wrong?”

  “He was sent to collect a young dryad.” His gaze drifted up to Colby’s perch. “She’s resisting arrest.”

  Poor Clay wouldn’t hurt a leaf on her head. “And you’re telling me this…why?”

  “The agent he was providing backup for is…” he pursed his lips, “…napping under a tree.”

  One thing Black Hat drummed into its agents was to always, always stick with your partner on a call.

  “Why doesn’t Clay wake them up?” Colby wanted to know. “He needs someone to watch his back.”

  “I agree.” Asa slid his gaze to mine. “I was hoping Rue would go with me to help him.”

  This had the smell of a trap all over it, but I couldn’t fault his ploy. Clay was a huge soft spot for me.

  “She will,” Colby volunteered me then tiptoed forward to peer down at me. “I like Clay.”

  Figuring I could nip this rebellion in the bud, I told him, “I’ll have to drop Colby off at home first.”

  “That’s okay.” She tapped my forehead. “I have to meet my friends for a raid anyhow.”

  Asa’s eyebrows rose. “A raid?”

  “I play a lot of Mystic Realms.” She sighed at his blank expression. “It’s an MMRPG.”

  Brackets formed to either side of his lips as he pondered her meaning.

  “A massively multiplayer online role-playing game?”

  Poor Asa was still drawing a blank, so I intervened before Colby recruited him for her guild.

  “A girl’s gotta socialize.” I wiggled my brows to drive Colby back into place. “I can barely keep her avatar, and its adorable pet, straight, but she knows everyone. It sounds like a wild party in my living room every night.”

  Understanding darkened his eyes, and he dipped his chin. “Maybe you can show me sometime.”

  “Sure.” Her little feet tickled my scalp. “I like helping newbs.”

  Asa lifted his eyes to mine, a pleat across his brow, which almost made up for his wrangling an invitation into my house.

  “Newbies,” I explained. “People who are new to the game.”

  “Ah.” He swept his gaze over my face. “Will you join me?”

  For a second, I got my wires crossed. “In the game?”

  I had an avatar, but she had died horribly so many times, I elected to let her rest in peace.

  “He meant help with Clay.” Colby snuggled in. “She will.”
>
  “Excellent.” Asa awarded her a smile that hitched my breath. “Can I give you a ride home?”

  “I need to run a few errands first.” I checked the time. “Meet me at my house in thirty minutes.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  With one hand in his pocket, he strolled the sidewalk until a store caught his interest and he went in.

  “You’re grounded,” I told my naughty hair bow. “Grounded into the dirt.”

  “You have zero follow through.” She scoffed at my tone. “You just like to make threats.”

  Who had I become that a tiny moth sassed me without fear of the consequences?

  Probably a better person.

  But could a better person stop a copycat when the original Silver Stag had nearly beaten my worst?

  * * *

  Camber and Arden shared way too many knowing glances for my comfort when I made my excuses.

  I refused to believe I was so hard up for a man that everyone felt matchmaking was my only hope.

  Dry spells happened to everyone. A decade wasn’t that long, right? Or two? Had it already been three?

  By the time I set Colby up with her bee pollen granules and sugar water, I was ready to escape her smug—if adorably so—face too. Her little headset slayed me with its cuteness. Her whole gaming setup was built to spec for her comfort, since virtual friends were the easiest for her to manage.

  Well, real friends. Virtual landscape. Pixels didn’t exchange Christmas presents, you know?

  With her settled in for her raid, I checked to make sure I had all my supplies.

  Jeans, boots, tee, spell kit, and athame. The spell kit reminded me of a jumbo leather fanny pack, except it buckled like a belt at my waist then fastened around my upper thigh to provide extra stability for vials. The overall effect was very steampunkish, but it was an heirloom piece, and its weight comforted me.

  “I’ll check in if we run late,” I called on my way to the front door. “Have fun.”

  There was no answer, which wasn’t unusual. She lived in those noise-cancelling headphones.

  Best investment ever? Maybe. Though possibly the worst. It depended on the day and how loud I had to scream to get her attention. She suffered from bouts of selective hearing during school and chore times.