Craved (9 page)

“I’m yours, Aiden and no one else’s,”
I reluctantly admitted.

“And I’m the only one who can taste
you?”

“Yes.”

“The only one who will touch
you?”

“YES!” I shrieked in
annoyance.

Aiden laughed and stopped his
interrogation, “Okay, okay, you don’t have to yell.”

“You are such an asshole,” I told him
with a frustrated smile.

“Yes, but I’m
your
asshole,” he said,
sending me a wink.

“You weren’t really going to keep
going if I didn’t say it, were you?”

“Of course not. I’m not a monster,
Gwen,” he laughed in victory and pressed a kiss to my lips before
retrieving my bathrobe and placing it over my shoulders. “Such a
shame to cover a canvas as beautiful as yours,” he said with a
headshake.

“Right back at cha,” I said as I held
his boxers out to him. I had literally just started seeing Aiden,
but I felt really comfortable around him, even butt naked. We’d
been friends for two years sure, but I’d never moved this fast with
a guy before. He was vexatious, egotistical, and a smart ass; but
for some unknown reason, it only made him more attractive in my
eyes. Of course, his romantic side didn’t hurt either.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I have to
check in with Vain,” he said.

“Has your friend sent you a sample of
brew yet?” Just saying that word was like a punch in the gut. I
knew vampires drank blood, but when they took it as far as killing,
especially witches, then I took it personally. I wondered why Aiden
even knew someone like that, but I was afraid to ask, afraid of
what I’d find out.

“Not yet, you’ll be the first person
to know as soon as the shipment comes.”

I nodded my head, hoping the shipment
never came. I’d have to ask Micah and Wyatt if they knew of any
witches being murdered in Chicago since the vampires up there were
obviously brew addicts. If they weren’t stopped soon, we’d have a
big problem on our hands. I didn’t want to have to watch over my
shoulder for potential witch poachers.

“Get some sleep, Gwen,” Aiden said,
kissing me softly on the lips.

Aura jumped onto the bed once Aiden
left and I intertwined my fingers into her long, dark fur. Having
her beside me put me at ease, as if she were the missing puzzle
piece that I was lacking. The last thing I remember was the
rumbling of her purring reverberating against my hand, and then I
was out like a light.

My morning had been nothing but hectic
since I set foot out of my apartment. Tourists were arriving so the
streets were flooded with humans pointing cameras at everything and
everyone.

I hadn’t spent a lot of time at
Broomsticks since I’d been helping the FPD, so some of my inventory
was still unpacked and in cardboard boxes. I had at least fifteen
people browsing my shop and Penny was running late.

A girl accidentally broke a
potion vial and was engulfed in dark purple clouds. Her mother
screamed and tried to vigorously fan the clouds away, but they
didn’t budge. Coming around the counter quickly, I picked up the
broken vial and the label read,
Old
Bitty
. I breathed a sigh of relief, this
spell was easily countered.

“Ma’am, everything is going to be
fine. She isn’t in danger,” I told the hysterical mother. When the
eggplant colored clouds dispersed, the girl who was only twelve now
looked to be seventy. Her long strawberry blonde hair had been
replaced in a waterfall of gray. Her flawless young skin now had
deep, wrinkled valleys and her blue eyes held wisdom she had yet to
learn.

“Oh my God!” The mother shrieked.
Everyone in the store had formed a circle around the mother and
daughter and gasped at the change in the young girl’s
appearance.

“It’s a simple age manipulation spell.
Have your daughter drink this,” I handed her a bright yellow liquid
that she took with uncertainty. “It’s the counter to that spell;
she’ll be as good as new within five minutes.”

“Take a picture first, Mom,” the young
girl said. Her mother looked at her like she’d lost her mind but
pulled out a small digital camera and snapped a picture.

The girl poured the yellow potion into
her mouth. We watched as yellow smoke twirled around her small
frame. Although I knew everything would be all right, I felt
horrible for the mother. I could see she was afraid for her
daughter’s safety. I produced a tissue magically and handed it to
the distraught woman.

Within seconds, the smoke faded to
reveal the young girl back to normal. Her mother enveloped her in a
hug and the surrounding witnesses all clapped.

“Please feel free to pick something
out, it’s on the house,” I told her. Luckily after her daughter was
safe, the woman was fine and held no animosity toward witches, or
me in general. There are people who would have wanted to burn me at
the stake over something like that.

Penny showed up an hour later,
allowing me to take a moment to actually breathe. I could see a
significant difference to the shelves, a lot emptier than when I
opened in the morning, and it was only noon.

“I’m sorry I was late, Gwen. I just
found out a friend of mine died,” Penny said. I had been so busy
that when I stopped to look at her, I noticed her eyes were red and
puffy.

“Oh Penny, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t
you just call in? I would have understood.”

“I need to stay busy and you need the
help,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I can’t be at home right now.
All everyone is talking about there is Bridget’s
murder.”

My mouth dropped open and I stared
wide-eyed at Penny. Bridget wasn’t a common name. It had to have
been the same Bridget that Wyatt and Micah found in the
park.

“Bridget Downing?” I asked.

Penny gave me a strange look and said,
“Yeah. How’d you know? It’s not in the newspapers yet.”

How was I supposed to tell her that I
had seen where her friend’s body had been dumped and that I had
seen her final memories? The FPD didn’t want anyone to know about
brew and if I told Penny that I was working with the police then
she’d want to know why, after all, I’m just a shop owner. I don’t
advertise my rare gift.

“My ex-boyfriend works for the FPD; he
mentioned it last night,” I said, not lying completely. “He wanted
to know if I knew who she was but I hadn’t heard of her, was she
from Flora?”

Penny relaxed slightly. “Yeah, she was
my babysitter when I was younger and I always thought of her as a
sister. I can’t believe what happened to her.”

My motivation to find the sicko
responsible for the murders just skyrocketed. Of course, it was
horrible that two witches had been drained, but finding out that
one of them was close to someone I knew, really jumpstarted my
anger.

I wondered why this hadn’t gotten out
to the otherworldly public yet. Brew is addictive, according to the
FPD, so why weren’t hundreds of witches turning up dead? Hopefully
we’d find some answers tonight in Hemlock. Fiona still didn’t know
that Micah would be going with us. She planned on tonight being a
girls’ night out; how was I supposed to tell her that I had to
investigate?

****************

Five hours later, and I was happily
closing the shop for the night. I loved all of the business but was
too anxious for tonight to really concentrate with the chatty
humans that swarmed my store.

Before stopping home, I swung by
Andy’s shop to pick up Fiona’s dress, as her voicemail had so
eagerly demanded that I do. I had to park a million miles away
because the streets were lined with cars that wouldn’t otherwise be
there. Tourists still strolled the sidewalks, looking in shop
windows and snapping pictures of Flora’s residents. I shook my head
in annoyance and pushed through the crowd.

Andy’s shop, Fairy Fabulous, was
desolate compared to Broomsticks. I guess the tourists didn’t need
new digs as much as they needed frivolous potions and enchanted
items.

I’d been in Andy’s shop a handful of
times but was always shocked at how beautiful it was. The floors
were covered in rich hardwood, the walls painted a deep purple with
copper damask stenciling. He had installed three crystal
chandeliers that hung by chocolate brown velvet ropes.

Forget the run-of-the-mill racks that
you find in every other store, Andy displayed all of his gowns on
mannequins. Somehow he had positioned a mannequin so that it looked
like she was coming through a mural on the wall of an eighteenth
century bedchamber. She wore a long, midnight blue gown, made of
some sort of sateen fabric and her long blonde hair was intricately
braided.

The floor was set up as if a
masquerade ball was occurring. Plastic dummies looped arms and
because of their beauty, they almost looked real. The women wore
breathtaking gowns, (that was Andy’s niche), while the males wore
tuxedoes.

“Ah, Gwen. So nice to see you,” Andy
said, noticing me gawking in awe at the masterpiece that was his
store. He was a good looking guy, blonde hair that looked like it
was bleached by the sun, violet eyes, and cheekbones that would’ve
made even the Roman gods envious. He stood around my height, five
foot nine, and was dressed to impress, as usual.

“Hey Andy. Your store amazes me every
time I see it; it’s absolutely beautiful.” Fairies were good at
everything when it came to creativity, whether it was folding
napkins, or creating clothes so beautiful, they made royalty
jealous.

Looking at him, most would assume he
were gay. He’s not, just metro sexual. He once said that the reason
he was so good at what he did was because he appreciated the female
body so much. It made me blush at the time, but maybe he had a
point.

“The only beauty I see is before me,”
Andy said. He could smooth talk practically anyone out of their
panties. Except me.

We had gone on a date once and,
although he’s beautiful and charming, I could see right through his
web of charisma. I’m convinced that the phrase player was
specifically named after him.

“I’m here to pick up Fiona’s dress,” I
told him, ignoring his compliment.

“Of course,” he said with a head nod.
Andy went into the back of the store to retrieve Fiona’s dress
while I walked through the maze of lifelike mannequins, running my
fingertips along the exquisite fabric.

My phone rang, echoing Paramore’s
“Heart” through the empty store.

“Hello?”

“Don’t forget to pick up my dress,”
Fiona’s overly excited voice said.

“On it.”

“Awesome! Now maybe you can tell me
why Micah is standing in our kitchen waiting for you?”

I bit my lip at her displeased tone.
“There is someone in Hemlock we need to talk to who might have
known Amy Harper.”

Silence.

“I told him I’d contact the guy
myself, but he insists on coming along. Plus we think Rush might
serve…might hold some answers to our many questions.”

I shook my head at the near miss of
mentioning brew, but luckily Fiona hadn’t caught it.

“How are we supposed to have fun with
an uptight Micah acting as a third wheel?” Her voice was on the
verge of being whiney.

“We’ll investigate and then
you and I will have some drinks and dance. Micah will just have to
deal with it.” A thought occurred to me,
what were we going to do with Fiona while we were
investigating?
We couldn’t leave her alone
in the club. I gritted my teeth because I knew of one way to keep
her safe while Micah and I were questioning Anthony, but I doubted
she would like it.

“Um, Fiona, I think Aiden should go
with us too.”

She released an irritated sigh and
said, “Why don’t all of your love interests come, geez,
Gwen.”

“Witches are being murdered, Fiona, I
think that’s more important than shaking our asses to Beyonce.
Aiden needs to come so that you’re not left alone while Micah and I
question the guy,” I spat out; annoyed that she was being so
difficult.