Black Hat, White Witch by Hailey Edwards

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.

Ourlives.

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 Ardenshared 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.

A parent might worry Colby was too plugged in for her own good, but I wasn’t her mom. I was more like the fun aunt, the one who fed her niece too much sugar, bought her too many expensive toys, and let her stay up too late. I was just grateful technology had reached a point where she could experience any sort of normalcy to count the hours she spent glued to her computer screen.

Standing a good foot away from the white picket fence, Asa waited for me with a smoothie in hand.

“The man at the counter told me this was your usual.” He offered it to me when I joined him outside the wards. “After quizzing me on how I knew you, what my intentions were, and when I was leaving.”

“Thanks.” I accepted the bribe, a godsend since I didn’t eat at breakfast. “And don’t take it personally.”

“It’s not just me?”

“Barry still asks me when I’m going back where I came from. I thought it meant he wanted me gone, but his wife assured me it’s his way.” I took a sip and had to admit, Asa was sly. “These things have too much sugar to qualify as healthy, but I do love a good strawberry, banana, pineapple smoothie.”

We got in the SUV, which smelled of earthy tobacco and apples, and I spotted his pink drink.

“I wasn’t sure what to try, so I got the same as you.”

“What did you think?” I checked the fill line. “Have you tried it yet?”

“It’s very sweet.” He cranked the engine and started toward the main road. “The cold bothers me.”

“Daemons prefer scalding coffee as black as damned souls?”

While he had ordered a cuppa Joe for breakfast, it also served as a dig about how others viewed his kind as Hell-dwelling, fire-pit-bathing, virgin-sacrificing, soul-eating minions of a red-pajama-clad dude named Satan.

Okay, so maybe I was still a smidge bitter his first impression of me was I kept Colby around as a snack.

“I ought to know better than to judge based on race, caste, or religion.” He paused. “I apologize.”

Gender and sexuality tended to be more flexible with long-lived beings, but he nailed the sticking points.

“You did come on strong.” I set my drink in the empty holder. “Not that I blame you.”

I had earned my reputation. He was right to believe the worst of me. I would have in his place.

“I shouldn’t have been so quick to accuse you. Daemons have their own reputation to overcome.”

Like they weren’t demons. Demons weren’t real. Or that they came from Hell. Hell didn’t exist. Hael did.

“We don’t have to kiss and make up.” I stared out the window. “This is one job, not a partnership.”

“Things will go smoother if we get along.”

“Does Clay actually need help? Or did you lure me away for the chance to smooth things over?”

“The agent Clay went to back up was crushed to death by the dryad. She beat her to a pulp.”

“Did you hear that pop?” I faked searching the cab. “I think that was the sound of my ego deflating.”

Subtle tension clenched his fingers where they gripped the wheel. “Did you want me to get you alone?”

Reaching for my drink, I pulled up short. “Did you want me to want you to get me alone?”

The two cups were identical, so were their contents. Only their fullness levels had distinguished them.

As I tended to gulp down my breakfast of choice, I expected to be slurping air, but there was plenty left.

That was odd, but I had been paying more attention to him than my drink, so maybe I miscalculated?

Just because he ate my pancakes after I passed on them didn’t mean he switched our drinks. “No.”

The inner debate over my sanity lent my voice an undecided quality, which earned me a thoughtful look.

This was ridiculous. There was nothing hinky going on here. But…was that a dare glinting in his eyes?

Picking up the drink from the holder nearest to me, I took a cautious sip, barely enough to taste.

When that didn’t kill me, I held a big gulp on my tongue, letting it dissolve as I waited for any weirdness.

“Brain freeze?”

A quick swallow to clear my mouth made that true. “Yeah.”

Without glancing down, he palmed the other cup and drank slowly. “I’m starting to like this flavor.”

Certain he hadn’t spiked my drink with a truth spell or a worse additive, I settled in for the ride.

Not long after, he pulled onto a winding dirt road with nothing but trees for miles.

“What caused this dryad to go off the rails?” I sat up to pay attention. “They’re usually pretty chill.”

“The paperwork says pollution in the water supply where she sprouted caused a psychotic break, but it’s rare for a dryad to land on our radar. As you said, they’re pretty chill. They don’t cause problems.”

“Do you have the file on you?”

For a beat, Asa drummed his fingers on the wheel. “It’s on the floorboard behind my seat.”

Clay, who couldn’t fit shotgun easily, must have left it back there when he finished reading.

“This says magical pollution.” I skimmed for more details. “It doesn’t say what kind. That’s important, right?”

“No one expected this to escalate. Another case of allowing preconceived notions to color expectation.”

The bulk of the vehicle made parking fun, assuming we wanted to get out again without requiring a tow.

The SUV Clay had arrived in was nowhere in sight, which puzzled me, but there were other roads.

“Are you armed?” Asa reached into the console to retrieve his service weapon. “Or do you need to be?”

The modified Glock used ensorcelled rounds that blasted magical shrapnel throughout a target’s body.

“I’m good.” I patted the leather pouch. “I brought my own firepower.”

Interest sparked in his eyes before he slid out his door onto the grass. Interest in my magic. Not in me.

After giving his drink the stink eye, I joined him in the field and did a thing I rarely did these days.

I drew my wand.

The length of twisted wood resembled a crooked finger and had come from the magnolia tree that grew above my mother’s grave. Most wands required an emotional link to infuse the carved base with power.

For white witches, it was a familial element. For black witches, it was a link to an important death.

For me, it was both those things. I hadn’t traded wands when I changed disciplines. Mine covered both.

A steady thumping noise drew us deeper into the woods, where all suspicion Asa had ulterior motives in bringing me along vanished as we discovered the spot where the agent in charge of this retrieval lost her life.

Death didn’t bother me. I had caused too much of it to be squeamish. But this was a bad way to go.

The killing blow crushed the woman’s skull. The dryad had decided to smash her brain to jelly for funsies.

I squatted next to the body, as if there could be any doubt the woman was dead, and there it was…

A tingle along my senses that alerted me to the presence of power ripe for harvesting.

Her heart was intact, and like an addict jonesing for a hit, I salivated as I stared at her chest.

“Clay must be over there.”

On a breath that was part mercy and part desperation, I murmured a spell and touched the wand to her.

The body incinerated in a fever-bright rush of magic pulled straight from my core, leaving fine white dust that would scatter on the winds, lifting her soul to whatever afterlife she believed in.

And, most importantly, destroying her heart before I cheated on my diet.

A warm hand rested on my shoulder, and that touch made it easier to shake off my mood and rise.

“Thank you for that.” Asa made a gesture at his navel that reminded me of a Catholic signing the cross.

“We all deserve last rites.” Pitiful as they might be. “Let’s find Clay.”

Golem or not, Clay had his breaking point. We had to reach him before a rabbi was required for repairs.

A steady thump, thump, thump guided us straight to him, and the dryad.

The nature spirit had inhabited a rotting pecan tree, but that didn’t limit her reach. The roots had ripped from the earth, leaving them to slither across the dirt in search of anchors for when it swatted at a foe it was having trouble pulping.

Clay might not be fast, but he moved well, and he was tough.

“Need help?” I kept a safe distance from the tree. “Or is this a con job to get us to do the work for you?”

A turn of his head revealed the far side of his face. “Shish look like a con shob to you?”

Had he been anything other than golem, he would have been dead. The first blow might not have done it, but it would have put him on the ground, and that was the last place you wanted to be during a fight.

An inch to the left, and she would have destroyed his shem, leaving her with a clay statue to pummel.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted a black SUV up a tree and wondered if she smacked him with it.

“I can take her down,” Asa said from beside me, “but it won’t be pretty.”

“I haven’t done the white witch thing in the field,” I confessed with a twinge of embarrassment, because honesty with your partner, even a temporary one, kept you both alive that much longer. “I might need a helping hand once I expel the dryad from the tree.”

“I’m right here.” Hearing Asa say so shouldn’t have made a difference, but it did.

I didn’t trust Asa. To be fair, I didn’t know him. But I trusted how Clay behaved toward him.

A direct order could force him to vouch for Asa with me, but it couldn’t make him like the guy.

Clay didn’t give nicknames to people he didn’t like. Well, okay, nicknames used in the person’s presence.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered under my breath. “Wand, don’t fail me now.”

A black witch had power in proportion to the amount of magic she consumed, aka hearts eaten.

A white witch had spells, charms, or potions from her spell kit, made in advance, and her own essence.

If I swaggered into the ring bent on reliving my glory days, more like gory days, I would KO myself.

Prowling closer to the enraged pecan tree, I let Clay do the hard work of distracting the dryad while I got in position behind her. The downside of using a wand was the fact it required contact with its target. The flick-your-wrist spell-slinging in movies was wishful thinking. Wands were conduits for power and intent. I had to mentally prep a spell and then make a conscious choice to unleash it on someone or something.

The wand was thirteen inches long, which meant I had to get close. Handy as a cloaking spell would have been right about now, I couldn’t risk expending my power willy-nilly until I rediscovered my limits.

I was out of practice sneaking, but I crept in until three feet separated me from the splintering trunk.

“Black witch,” the dryad spat. “I smell the death caked on your soul.”

A limb wider than my waist swept in an arc that almost knocked my head off my shoulders.

“You’re no better than I am.” I dove into a roll. “I saw your handiwork a few minutes ago.”

“You’re wrong.” Blistering rage shook her leaves. “I’m not like you.”

A hard yank on my ankle dumped me on the ground. A rootlet was hauling me within killing range.

Gathering my will, I pushed power from my core into the wand then struck the hairy root with its tip.

Smoke sizzled down its length, gaining speed as it ran up the trunk like reverse lightning, cooking the old limbs and charring the dead leaves.

A scream rang out as a pale blur was expelled from the tree. The creature sat up, blinked her wide green eyes, then hooked her fingers into claws and charged me. The dress she wore glittered hot with embers.

Blinking away gold spots in my vision, I readied my wand, prepped a spell, and hoped it wouldn’t kill me.

“Oh, shit.”

That was Clay. Definitely Clay. But I couldn’t see him.

Probably because my body gave up and fell sideways like a sack of potatoes.

One more spell was all I needed, but nope. I was out of juice and out of luck.

A bestial roar vibrated through the ground under my cheek, but whatever made it could take a number.

The line to eviscerate me was forming behind the rabid dryad.

A creature taller than Clay, from this perspective, stepped over me to stand between me and the dryad.

I don’t know what compelled me to inch a hand forward until I could brush a fingertip down the back of its nearest ankle. A head injury, maybe. The skin was dark red, feverish to the touch, but black rosettes made stunning patterns over its heel. The creature tensed under my touch, torquing its muscular upper body to inspect what I was doing and whether or not I meant it harm.

The bones of its face had shifted when he did, widening his cheeks and forehead, but it was Asa.

Thick black horns curled from his temples back over his head, and his hair had come undone. There were miles of it. Black silk. I would have reached for that too if I had the strength, but I couldn’t get my fingers to twitch, let alone my arm to rise.

He was still staring down at me with those burnt-crimson eyes when the dryad smacked into him. A low growl of annoyance curled his lip, revealing thick fangs, and he returned his focus to subduing her. There wasn’t any doubt in my mind the dryad was beyond saving. Even if she were salvageable, the director would put her down for the death of a Black Hat agent.

Knowing both those things, I gasped when Asa punched his fist into her chest and ripped out her heart.

And I recoiled when he offered it to me on his wide palm like a gift…or a snack.

“Eat,” he rumbled, blood dripping through his fingers. “Heal.”

“Ace,” Clay warned, his speech much improved, “that’s not how she rolls anymore.”

“Eat,” Asa insisted. “Heal.”

“No,” I whispered as my eyelids lowered. “No.”

I had come too far to fall back on old habits now.