Gods and Swindlers (City of Eldrich Book 3) (3 page)

Elena nodded, smiling. “I heard about that. You beating the snot out of a wizard really didn’t surprise me. Remember when you beat up Eddie, down the street? When he said you liked his older brother?”

Meaghan smiled. “Yeah. I do. I got a black eye.”

“He got a broken nose. I still can’t believe you didn’t get in more trouble for that.”

“I talked my way out of it. Besides, he started it.”

“Um, no, I was there. You threw the first punch.”

“Which I wouldn’t have done if he hadn’t been ribbing me about his brother.”

“Dominic. You totally liked him.”

Meaghan laughed. “You have no idea. I was so in love with him. He didn’t know I was alive.”

“I saw him not that long ago. I was downtown for something and ran into him. Still thinks he’s God’s gift.”

“How’d he look?”

“He still has his hair, I’ll give him that, but now it’s on top of a much rounder guy. And I remember him being taller.” Elena smiled. “And you, Ms. Sneaky, changed the subject again. Russ and Natalie—I also know she’s your sister, by the way—tell me you’ve been kicking ass and taking names. The magical bad guys are terrified of you. So what’s the deal?”

Meaghan sighed. “Can I have another margarita?”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Yes, but you have to come inside while I make it and start talking. No more stalling.” Elena shivered. “It’s getting cold out here.”

“Seriously? This isn’t cold.”

Elena rolled her eyes. “One winter up north and she thinks she’s a polar explorer. I have thin Latin blood. Humor me.”

With glasses, dinner plate, and light box in hand, they moved into the kitchen. Elena made another pitcher of margaritas, heated up more of Tía Nancy’s enchiladas, and sat down at the tiny dining table with Meaghan. “Now you have your drink and more cheese. Start talking.”

Bolstered by the tequila and the enchiladas, Meaghan told her everything—from the call last May from her brother begging for help with their father to her deciding to flee to Phoenix, leaving out only one thing. With the rest of the story told, both of them sleepy with tequila, Meaghan knew she couldn’t hide it any longer.

“I haven’t told you everything,” she said.

Elena nodded. “I know. I can feel you holding something back.”

“Right. You’re psychic now. I gotta get used to that.”

Elena smiled. “I always have been. Just never talked about it. And you’re better than most at blocking me.”

“I am?”

“You are. What haven’t you told me?”

“I . . . there was . . .” Meaghan’s stomach lurched, making her acutely aware that she’d filled it with almost nothing in the last twelve hours but Velveeta and tequila. She sat up straighter and burped up the acid in the back of her throat. The time had come. She looked away from Elena, sudden shame making her face grow hot. “I almost got raped.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. In a hushed voice, Elena said, “Shit, girl. Nobody told me about that.”

“That’s because nobody knows it happened. It was crazy. The mob had grabbed us and they were dragging Jamie and Natalie away, and Sid and Annie had disappeared. A wizard—”

“One of those Order guys?”

“Yeah. He grabbed me and punched me in the face”—Meaghan heard Elena suck in a sharp breath—“then he knocked me to the ground. My arms were under me and I couldn’t move. And he . . . he tried to unzip my pants.” Her eyes filled with tears. “And he said ‘the bitch needs to learn her place.’”

Elena moved to her side and hugged her. “No wonder you’re so upset.”

Meaghan shook her head. “That’s not it. He didn’t rape me. The other wizard knocked him off me.”

“Thank God.”

“But, you don’t get it.” Meaghan’s voice sounded loud and harsh in her own ears. “It wasn’t anything I did. I couldn’t stop him. In my whole life, I’ve never been so powerless. He was just a normal looking guy. He wasn’t big, he wasn’t strong, but there was nothing I could do.”

The tears—the real tears—arrived. Meaghan stopped resisting and sobbed on Elena’s shoulder.

Elena held her and rocked her until the storm passed. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I’m so sorry.”

Meaghan groped for the tissue box. “But that’s the problem. I didn’t go through it. I’m supposed to be leading everybody, and I’m falling apart over something that didn’t even happen.”

Elena shook her head. “Something did happen.”

“Not like what happened to Marnie. How can I fall apart over almost getting raped after what happened to her? How weak does that make me?”

“Meg, honey, it’s not a competition. People deal with bad shit in their own ways. Minimizing your pain doesn’t help her at all.”

Meaghan blew her nose again. “No. I guess it doesn’t. I promised Natalie I’d see somebody about it. A therapist.”

“Excellent idea. Only find a clued-in one, otherwise you’ll get committed.” Elena smiled. “Most people don’t accept this stuff as easily as you have.”

“Most people don’t see their coworker disappear in a flash of light and reappear eight inches tall with wings.”

Elena giggled. “I hear you got an eyeful.”

Meaghan smiled. “Did I ever. You’ve been talking to Kady?”

“Yeah, I caught her once when I called to see how you were doing. When’s her baby due?”

“Um, March fifteenth, last I heard, although she looks big enough to pop at any moment. She’s naming him after my father.”

“Nice,” Elena said. “How long do you plan to stay out here?”

“The original plan was forever, but now I think I have to go home before then.”

“You called Eldrich home. Did you notice that?”

“Shit. Now I have to go back.”

Elena stood and grabbed their glasses off the table. “I’m not trying to rush you. Work’s been slow. I have a few things to take care of, but nothing major. Stay the week. We can book a spa day, eat out, go on some hikes. You need to decompress a little. You want me to call Russ and tell him?”

Meaghan pushed herself to her feet. “No, I will. First thing in the morning. It’s after midnight back there.”

When Meaghan woke the next morning, she found a plate of Mexican pastries, a carafe of hot coffee, and a note from Elena saying she’d run into the office and would be back by lunchtime.

Russ picked up on the second ring. “Hi,” was all he said, his normal ebullience muted.

Because the jerk lied to me once again, and I caught him at it.
“You said you told me all your secrets. You missed one.”

“That wasn’t my secret to spill,” Russ said. “She told you?”

“Yeah.”

“She made me swear—some crazy Mexican
bruja
thing. She said you had to hear it from her.”

Meaghan sighed. “You do know she’s not a witch, right?”

“She’s not? She said I’d get boils if I told you.”

Meaghan snorted. “And you believed her?” She laughed. “That’s the same shit she did to you when we were kids.”

“Yeah, ha ha, very funny. So, what gives? When are you coming back?
Are
you coming back?”

“I’ll be back next week. I need a little break.”

Russ sighed with relief. “Thank God. We’ve all been really worried.”

“Well, don’t worry anymore. Except for a little tequila hangover, I’m safe and sound.”

“Good. But that’s not what we’re worried about.”

Meaghan was silent for a long moment. “Something happened to me on Labor Day and nobody knew and I’ve had a hard time dealing with it. I don’t suppose you know any good clued-in therapists?”

“Therapists? No, not personally, but I can get you some names.”

She could hear the relief in Russ’s voice. “I don’t want to go into details right now, but we can talk when I get home.” She shut her eyes, dreading the answer to her next question. “Is John okay?”

“Yeah,” Russ said. “He’s fine. Why wouldn’t he be?”

“He’s sober?”

Russ sighed again, this time exasperated. “We’ve had this discussion. You need to ask him. Or Terry, if he’ll talk to you about it.”

Terry was John’s AA sponsor. He had moved in across the street right after Labor Day. Meaghan liked him and his wife, Steph, but they were hiding something from her. From everybody but John, it seemed, who had hinted about Terry once having been a big deal to “his people” whoever they were.

Terry was a blacksmith and had built himself a forge, surrounded by a steel cage, in a garage he rented in Eldrich. Iron and steel were as impervious to magic as Meaghan was. Terry’s forge was basically a magic-proof safe room. He had built a similar forge in a shed in the backyard of his and Steph’s ramshackle Victorian house on Holly Lane.

In addition to odd jobs around town, Terry made decorative swords he sold online and at renaissance fairs, along with iron gewgaws and whimsical kitchen cabinet knobs and handles. When they moved in, Terry presented the other five homeowners on Holly Lane with wrought iron weather vanes, which he installed on each roof himself. The dead-end street consisted of a half dozen Victorian houses in various stages of renovation and the weather vanes complemented their ornate gingerbread trim.

Terry and Steph seemed like a normal middle-aged couple, despite Terry’s biker appearance. He had graying red hair halfway down his back and a full red beard that Steph was always nagging him to keep trimmed. At Christmas, he’d asked Natalie to whip up a little charm amulet that turned his hair and beard white, so he could transform himself into Santa Claus for the Christmas village the city sponsored on the square. Steph, a cheerful, solidly built woman with lovely golden blonde hair, worked the renaissance fair circuit with her husband and managed his online business. In her spare time, she volunteered at a hospice down in Williamsport.

They exuded the well-worn comfort of a couple who had weathered more than a few storms—not surprising considering Terry’s alcoholism—and had come out stronger for it. They were good neighbors, despite their mysterious and likely magical backstories.

When Meaghan had pushed Terry a little about John, he’d given her a warm grin and said, “Not a chance. You want to know stuff, you talk to him.”

“Terry won’t tell me anything,” Meaghan told her brother.

“Then I guess you’ll have to talk to John,” Russ said. “As far as I can tell, he’s sober and patiently waiting for you to come home. But Meg—don’t get mad—I’ve done this dance with women before, so I know what I’m talking about. He’s been lonely a long time. If you don’t want him anymore, let him find someone who does.”

Meaghan couldn’t respond or she’d start crying again, because she knew Russ was right. “I’ll call you in a few days,” she said, “when I have my flight info.”

Chapter Four

A
WEEK OF
sunshine and laughter improved Meaghan’s outlook. The nightmares eased. She hadn’t realized how tired she’d been until she got a decent night’s sleep.

Elena saw Meaghan off at the airport, parking the car and staying with her until it was time to go through security. Hugging her fiercely one last time, Elena said in her ear, “You better stay in touch this time.”

“Or you’ll put a curse on me? Give me boils?”

Elena giggled. “Your brother’s such a sucker. I can’t believe he fell for that.” She stepped back. “You sure you’re ready to go back?”

“No,” Meaghan said, “but I have the whole destiny thing I gotta deal with. Hiding in Arizona won’t make it go away. Too bad there aren’t a cluster of magical gateways in Scottsdale or Paradise Valley.”

“You can’t afford either one,” Elena said. “Go home and get your head straight. And get laid. Don’t let Mr. Tall, Blond, and Sober get away.”

Meaghan nodded. She’d missed John intensely during her week in Arizona—missed everything about him—to a degree that surprised her. “I promise. Assuming he still wants me.”

“Only one way to find out. You’re going to use that light box, right? And find a therapist?”

Meaghan rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mommy.”

“I’ll give you boils if you don’t.”

“Yeah, yeah. You and whose coven?”

Elena laughed. “And I’m coming out for a visit sometime this summer. I need to see this freaky little town of yours.”

“It’s really nice in the summer. It’s the winter that sucks.”

A loud mob of travelers—it looked like an extended family—was slowly making its chaotic way toward security. Elena gave Meaghan one last hug and shoved her gently toward the TSA guy waiting for her boarding pass and ID. “You need to get ahead of that bunch.”

With a final wave, Elena turned and melted into the crowd.

The flight was uneventful. Meaghan stared out her window most of the time, watching America unroll eastward. It was a clear day until they passed over the Great Lakes, where the clouds thickened into a floor of cotton balls beneath the bright blue sky. Up here, it was sunny, but underneath she knew, it was gray and cold. Everyone had assured her spring was on its way, and that Eldrich was glorious in the springtime, but right now it felt like it would always be February.

Hell’s not hot,
Meaghan thought.
Hell is cold, damp, and cloudy. Just like Eldrich.

When Meaghan got to Williamsport, she discovered cold, damp, and cloudy had given way to frozen, snowy, and clear. The evening stars gleamed in the sky like the points of sharpened icicles. She shivered on her way from the tiny terminal to her car and wrestled into her down coat—it was like a sleeping bag with sleeves—and her heavy winter boots as quickly as she could. She started the motor and turned the defrosters and heat on full blast.