Joy of Witchcraft (14 page)

Of all the witches in the circle on Samhain, I could only
swear
to my innocence and Clara’s. But I could not believe Raven or Emma was at fault—if they’d wanted to destroy me, they’d had ample opportunity before we started our second semester together.

That left four suspects: Alex, Bree, Cassie, and Skyler. I forced myself to list them alphabetically. That way, I couldn’t show any possible hint of favoritism.

I’d misread one of my students disastrously. I’d invited evil into our midst. And I hadn’t even known until Teresa told me. That fact rankled the most. It almost made up for the fact that I’d bribed her with my precious ash-and-oak wand.

By Friday, I was still awash in indecision. My students and I had spent the week getting to know each other better. I don’t think anyone suspected the true nature of my inquiry as I gauged their powers, measuring their ability to use the rowan wands I kept safe in the vault. They didn’t guess what was truly at stake as we studied different cauldrons, as we calculated the sharpness of various magical knives. They probably thought the most noteworthy thing about the week was my conducting four straight days of classes, without a single ritual going awry, with any mythical beast springing out of nowhere to attack any of us.

We were all ready for a break by the time the weekend rolled around. I begged David to let everyone go into Parkersville. I needed a respite from the tension, from the constant parsing of every glance, every word, every possible message from the traitor in our midst. Besides, if our enemy already lurked behind our wards, what could it hurt to let folks escape their cabin fever?

Emma left the dormitory first—her boyfriend, Rick, swung by after his shift ended at the fire station. Raven and Bree sweet-talked the firefighter into giving everyone a ride into town in the back of his pickup truck. David and I stood on the front porch, waving to the taillights, as they disappeared down the driveway.

Before the lights faded, David sighed with a frustration that sounded bone-deep. “Now’s the part where you and I argue about the rest of the evening.”

“We don’t have anything to argue about,” I said, tugging the sleeves of my sweater down to cover my bare hands. The early November evening was bracing. “Melissa’s going to be here in about an hour, and you’re going out for the evening so we can talk in private.”

“You want me to abandon you when any one of those women could double back from town?”

I huffed my annoyance, sending up visible smoke signals in the chilly air. “I’m not in any greater danger than I’ve been in all week.”

“I’ve been with you all week,” he pointed out.

“David, I need some privacy!” I heard the sharpness in my voice and I reversed tactics mid-breath. “Melissa and I want to talk about wedding stuff. Bridesmaids dresses and flowers. Invitations. Whether I should wear a veil. You’d be bored to tears in thirty-seven seconds.”

I wasn’t
just
trying to manipulate him into leaving us alone. I really wanted to talk about those things with my matron of honor. I wanted to spend a giggly, gossipy evening like an ordinary bride planning an ordinary wedding. But I wasn’t above exaggerating the boring, mundane details, if that would get me my way. “I think I’ve chosen the perfect dress. I just need Melissa’s advice on whether I have to wear a corset under it.”

David’s eyes glinted in the porch light. “And now you’ve overplayed your hand. Melissa wouldn’t know the first thing about whether you need a corset.”

He was right, dammit. I should have told him I needed a consultation on the wedding cake. “David, I need time to talk with her. Alone. She’s my best friend.”

He nodded, and his voice was gentle but firm. “I know that. But I’m not comfortable leaving you alone in the house. I’ll stay upstairs. You won’t even know I’m here.”

I knew an absolute when I heard one. By the time Melissa arrived, David was secure in our bedroom, bolstered by a plate of sandwiches, a bottle of wine, and a book he swore he’d been looking forward to reading for months. Spot had followed him upstairs willingly. Or maybe the dog was just hoping a slice of roast beef would slip out of that sandwich.

I could feel the booster David had given to his warder’s spells, the extra tingle of energy that said our protective barrier was cranked to a maximum. But Melissa seemed absolutely unaware of the crackling power as she stepped over the threshold. She held out a white pasteboard box, sealed with a familiar printed sticker. “For me?” I asked, feigning surprise.

“I brought a cup of Dream Puff filling for Neko. And Almond Lust for David. And yes, a few treats for you. I figured I couldn’t go wrong with Cinnamon Smiles and Ginger Sequins.”

“Thank you,” I said, astonished to feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. It seemed like years since anyone had done anything so nice for me. For that matter, it seemed like years since I’d had a conversation with anyone that wasn’t about witchcraft. I let a little of my gratitude spill into my tone as I said, “And thank you for making the long drive out here.”

“Honestly? It’s nice to get out of the city. To get away from
lawyers
.”

“Having that much fun with Rob’s crew, huh?” I led the way into the kitchen, automatically crossing to the pantry to take out a box of crackers. “How was dinner with the big boss last week?”

Melissa hooked her foot around one of the bar stools at the center island, pulling it back so she could settle with a gusty sigh. “The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.”

I grinned at the easy reference. “
Henry IV, Part II
. But you know that was the bad guys talking, describing their own version of heaven.” Melissa waved off my English-major lesson. “It went that well, huh?” I asked.

“I’m not cut out for this.”

“What do you mean?”

“All the
formality
,” Melissa said. “All the
rules
. The first question out of everyone’s mouth is ‘Where do you work?’ And when I tell them Cake Walk, they just look confused. Last week, someone actually asked me if that was a British firm.”

I laughed, but Melissa didn’t laugh with me. I tried to sound sympathetic. “So when do they vote on letting Rob in?”

“The Saturday before Christmas. We’ll either have a whole lot to celebrate for the holidays, or we’ll be in mourning.” She cracked her knuckles and started to chew her bottom lip. From the way she stared across the room, the faucet on the kitchen sink was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the entire house. She took a shuddering breath before she blurted, “The thing is, I’m not sure I
want
him to make partner.”

I sat beside her. “What do you mean?”

“I’m a terrible person, I know that. He’s been working toward this forever. It’s the only thing that matters at the law firm, the only way to define success.”

“And I know you want him to succeed,” I said gently.

“I do!” But she tugged at her sleeve before she repeated with a lot less vehemence, “I do. But once he’s a partner, everything will change. I’ll have to go to the firm retreat with him, at the Four Seasons. I’m not a Four Seasons kind of girl!” she wailed.

I could count on one hand the times I’d seen her out of her work clothes. “You’ll fit in,” I said loyally.

“Hel
lo
,” Melissa said, giving me an exasperated look. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Melissa White, and I don’t do dresses. Or heels. Or updos for my hair. And the last time I wore makeup, it was when I dressed as a hobo for Halloween.”

I laughed, but I wasn’t sure what to say. We weren’t kids any more. We had to figure out how to live in the grown-up world.

Melissa accurately read my expression. After all, she’d had years to learn how to interpret my silent communication. She crossed her arms on the center island and hid her face, issuing a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a shout.

Her sheer desperation melted my frustration into concern. “Hey,” I asked. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, but then she shook her head. “I just thought it would be easier than this. I mean, when Rob came into the bakery every day, we were in
my
world.
He
fit into
my
life.”

“And now you have a new life, together. Don’t forget—you fell in love with the whole package. The Rob who’s a lawyer and the Rob who comes home after work.”

She made a broken attempt at a smile as she twisted her wedding band. “Oh, I don’t expect you to understand. Not when everything’s perfect with you and David.”

I snorted.

“What?” she asked, her voice shrill with accusation. “You two are perfect together!”

“Yeah,” I said, unable to resist a frustrated glance at the ceiling. I knew David wouldn’t purposely eavesdrop on us, but I couldn’t shake my constant awareness that he was up there, that he could overhear every word of my conversation with Melissa if he tried.

“Hey,” Melissa said, shifting away from her own misery with the light-speed devotion of a best friend. “What’s going on?”

One of my students was nearly raped by a satyr. We were all attacked by a two-headed dog on the beach. I’m teaching a traitor who could destroy everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve built, and I don’t have the first idea who she is. I’m terrified to do anything, and I’m terrified to do nothing, and I keep praying to Hecate that David doesn’t break under the pressure like he did last time…

Right. Like I could tell Melissa any of that. She knew I was a witch. She’d even seen me work a spell or two. But I couldn’t expect her to understand the dangers my magicarium faced. There was no way she’d grasp the true terror someone like Norville Pitt could raise inside me. And I could never tell her about the inquest. I couldn’t mention it at all.

“So?” Melissa prompted. “What’s up?”

“I love him,” I said, surprising myself with the defensiveness in my tone. I hadn’t realized I needed to say that. I hadn’t thought anyone could possibly doubt it.

“Of course you do,” she said. The naked concern in her voice was an invitation to share more.

“I love him, and I know he wants what’s best for me. But I’m afraid what’s best for me will hurt him.” I pictured the mottled purple bruises on his torso, left by the satyr’s hooves. I saw him stacking books in the vault, desperate to protect me, to protect everything I owned. I forced myself to admit, “I’ve already hurt him.”

“Oh, Jane,” Melissa said. She slipped off her stool and folded her arms around me. I hadn’t realized how close I was to the edge, to sobbing like a baby. Melissa squeezed me, one quick hug. I caught the smell of vanilla in her hair, of cinnamon and ginger, the spices she folded into the sweets she baked every day. The scent carried me back to Cake Walk, to the long hours we’d spent in the bakery, talking about all the things we’d thought were important. All the things that seemed so silly now.

As I hugged her back, I caught a sob against the back of my throat and said, “What a great pair we make. You’re afraid of going to dinner at a fancy hotel, and I’m afraid of…everything.”

“I’m not afraid!” And she wasn’t. She wasn’t frightened. She just didn’t want to change. Didn’t want to become someone she despised to keep the man she loved.

And I understood that, every single word that neither of us spoke out loud. I understood it in spades.

I squared my shoulders and faced the
real
disaster of the evening. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I made you drive all the way out here, and I think these Triscuits are the only food in the house.”
David won’t let me go shopping in town.
“I didn’t have a chance to lay in mojito supplies or anything.”

Melissa offered a brave smile. “Then we’ll have to make do with Triscuits. Let me guess. There isn’t a chance Neko left a rind of cheese in that refrigerator, is there?”

I shook my head. “Not much of one.”

But what sort of friend would I be, if I didn’t even look? Besides, there might be some wilted celery sticks, a few wrinkled carrots, something too healthy for my conniving familiar to have stolen. Bracing myself for disappointment, I opened the fridge.

A forest of mint filled the top shelf, fenced in by half a dozen limes. Two bottles of club soda nestled in the refrigerator door, flanking a fifth of rum. And on the bottom shelf, wrapped in brown paper, were three wedges that had to be cheese. David’s bold scrawl shouted in capital letters: “Touch this, Neko, under pain of death.”

Melissa came to stand beside me. “Huh,” she said. “I guess things aren’t as bad as we thought they were.”

I laughed as I started to haul the bounty out of the fridge. David must have used his warder’s magic to whisk into town, to lay in supplies. And I’d spent that same time sulking that he’d be lurking upstairs.

Melissa unwrapped the cheese as I dove into making the first pitcher of mojitos. I had a man who could read my mind, who knew what I needed before I knew it myself. I had a best friend who stood by me, even when I wasn’t able to share everything with her. I even had a familiar who recognized a dire threat to his bodily integrity when he read one.

Life wasn’t that bad. And it got an awful lot better when I doubled the amount of lime juice for the entire batch of mojitos.

~~~

I was wrong.

Life sucked.

Exhibit A: Sunday night, the team of advocates who were prosecuting Pitt sent an urgent message to David. They wanted him to come in first thing Monday morning. They were going to study his notes, again. Review his written testimony, again. Prepare him for the inevitably brutal cross-examination he’d face on the stand, again. Both David and I read imminent defeat in their urgent request.

The following morning, I came downstairs to find David standing at the kitchen counter, gulping down a cup of coffee that was steaming like a dragon’s breath. “Don’t burn yourself!” I said. “Give it time to cool.”

“I’m already late,” he said. “I should have been out of here half an hour ago.”

I heard the warning in his voice. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

He pushed a curl of paper toward me. No. Not paper. Paper didn’t roll on itself that way. It was a scroll of parchment, sealed with the crimson wax of Hecate’s Court.