When we got to my car, far from listening ears, I put a hand on Susan’s arm. “I don’t like them staying here with you. I know they’re your family, and I apologize for saying it, but I don’t trust them. I think they’re dangerous. Aloysius, especially. He sets off every warning sign and red flag I have.”
“I know. But they’re out of here in a day or two, whether they like it or not. I can’t have them lurking about when I’m working. And Greg needs time to recover before he goes home. Unfortunately, Cordelia likes to treat him like the help, so she’ll be bossing him around, and he’s too polite to tell her no. It’s a mess.”
“Susan, I know you are a strong woman and an awesome sheriff, but maybe Carlos could help with some of this? At least take the night shift guarding that stuff until you find someone to defuse it?”
“My brother is in Europe on some super-important vampire business. I wouldn’t bother him with this even if I could reach him. He’s in the mountains somewhere. So, nope. On my own with this one. As you know, my cousin Sadie is my only family in town other than Granny and Carlos, and Sadie is so flaky I’d never let her get anywhere near this stuff.”
She wasn’t exaggerating about Sadie, who’d probably say “Ooh, shiny,” and pick up the dagger. But she also sounded so hopeless that I felt guilty about leaving.
“Hey. I can stay longer if you need—”
“No. Go home, Tess. I got this. If they annoy me too much, I’ll shoot them.”
I laughed, but on the drive home it occurred to me she hadn’t looked like she was kidding.
11
Tess
After a quiet and, thankfully, peaceful evening at home with my cat, leftover baked macaroni and cheese, and a few hours ofTed Lassoto cheer me up, I got a good night’s sleep, even though I was a little worried when I never heard from Jack.
I heard from Rose, though, with all bad news. There was no way for her or any other witch to give us advice on how to deal with the magical objects without being on site. Magical objects weren’t fungible; they all had unique properties, depending on how they’d been bespelled. So, there’d be no good “one size fits all” solution, more than likely.
She told me what wecouldn’tdo:
We couldn’t set them on fire, because some or most of them might explode and release a typhoon of magic into the environment.
We couldn’t sell them, of course. Unethical and dangerous.
We couldn’t give them to anybody else to safeguard. Power corrupts and all that, and Rose said the magic might harm or seduce even the most honorable people, eventually.
I’d called Susan with this dismal update, learned that everything was the same at her house, with the fun addition of Cordelia’s litany of complaints about the “rustic” pizza, and she’d caught Ish lurking near the locked door to the library twice. She said she’d look for an expert who could come by and appraise the lot for danger and disposal purposes.
Tuesday dawned bright and gorgeous, and the weather forecast was for another seventy-degree day. I stretched and cuddled Lou, and then I cleaned up, dressed in a Dead End Pawn sweatshirt and jeans, and tied my hair into a ponytail. Then I wandered into the kitchen to make coffee and feed Lou a hearty helping of fishy goodness. The smell of tuna in the morning wasn’t great, but it was her favorite, and I felt like I needed to make it up to her for being gone so long the day before.
I’d tried taking her to work with me a few times. A lot of small businesses had resident cats and even dogs, after all. But Lou was not a cat who was comfortable with strangers. She’d been a stray who’d found my porch in a rainstorm, and we’d been together ever since. The time at the shop had been hugely stressful for both of us, so she spent her days curled up on the couch, comfortable and happy, watching the world go by through my windows.
Recently, a pixie named Frazzle had become Lou’s fast friend and liked to show up at my house to eat honey bread and hang out with my cat. They’d even staged a huge mock battle at Thanksgiving. I sometimes wished Lou could talk, because Frazzle never told me anything about their adventures, but since Lou clearly adored the tiny Fae, I didn’t worry about it.
Much.
The Fae were … different. Their ideas of what was dangerous didn’t exactly coincide with ours.
“Okay, sweetheart, time for me to go. I won’t be late tonight, hopefully. And if I go to Aunt Ruby and Uncle Mike’s for dinner, I’ll come get you first.”
She loved my uncle even more than tuna.
I kissed her head and went to work, where something far more terrifying than dangerous magical objects or sentient daggers awaited me.
Eleanor had picked out the bridesmaids’ dresses.
They were pink.
Sopink.
And covered with ruffles. So, so, so many ruffles.
If a truckload of Pepto-Bismol exploded, the result would be these dresses.
