Witch Upon a Star (A Midnight Magic Mystery) (13 page)

The knock on my car window jolted my eyes open. Tom stood next to it, looking more than a little contrite. I got out of the car.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I—”

“No,
I’m
sorry. I’m so sorry. You have all been so nice, I just … have a lot going on. This is all me, it has nothing to do with you. You’ve all been amazing. Especially you. I swear.”

“Okay. Uh, Mama wanted you to have these for the road.” He lifted up a Tupperware container filled with Snickerdoodle cookies. “She said you could keep the container.” He paused and began to blush. “Or you can come back. If you want.”

Guess my revelation didn’t completely quash his growing crush. With a smile, I leaned up and kissed his cheek. “You’re one of the good ones, Tom Harmon.” I kissed his cheek again and got back in the car. The teen stared at me, slack-jawed. “Too damn good for me, that’s for sure.” I started the car. “Stay sweet, Batman. Bye.” And I drove away, leaving him in my rearview.

I wanted to stay. I wanted to get a hotel room, spend a few days exploring the town and playing magic and having tea parties with my cousins. I wanted to flirt with Tom until his self-esteem skyrocketed. I wanted to not be me for a few days. But I just kept driving. Back to my life. Back to my Asher who ten years before chose me to be his. Who knew, maybe that night he would again. Hope springs eternal.

_____

A wreck on Route 29 slowed traffic to a crawl, so I didn’t pull up to the hotel until after dark with only an hour left until curtain time. We had plans to see
Henry V
at the Kennedy Center, just Asher and I. I’d even bought a rose red dres, with a plunging neckline and matching lingerie for the occasion. “Sorry I’m late,” I shouted as I entered our suite. “Traffic was—”

When I stepped into our bedroom, my mouth snapped shut. Empty. Water ran in Oliver’s bathroom but I found him alone, lounging in bubbles. Considering how the previous night ended, and the one two nights before that, I had no problem entering without knocking. Nothing I had not seen far too many times before. Without question he was gorgeous, with thick brown hair with blond highlights, gray eyes, and the reddest lips I’d ever seen, but I could not say I was overly attracted to him. We simply gravitated to each other as the odd men out in our supposed quartet. He didn’t even bother to cover himself or remove the washcloth from his eyes when I stepped in.

“Knocking is still considered good manners, even in this day and age,” he chided.

“Where’s Asher?”

“Have they not returned yet? Shocking,” Oliver answered sarcastically. “I have not the faintest notion where they went. They slipped out whilst I was being interviewed by that Texan.” He pulled the cloth from his eyes. “Thank you for that, by the way. I just adore finding myself on the F.R.E.A.K.S. watchlist.”

“So Asher didn’t say when he’d be back? The play begins in an hour.”

Oliver’s face softened. “I am sure he is returning to you as we speak.”

“Yeah,” I said halfheartedly. “I’ll, uh, let you get back to your bath.”

“You are more than free to join me,” the vampire said with that panty-dropping grin of his. “I can give you your birthday present.”

“Tempting, but no thanks. I have to get ready. Have a nice night.”

I returned to my bedroom and put on my new dress, a tight, bright-red number with next to no neckline, even curled my hair, but with each passing minute the anger and sadness festered. There was a brief glimmer of hope when I heard the front door shut forty-five minutes later, but it was only Oliver leaving for the night. I bit my lip to stop the tears before they began. I finally gave up my pathetic vigil on the couch, just staring at the door, when the clock struck nine. The curtain rose, not just at the Kennedy Center, it lifted from my eyes.

“Asshole,” I whispered. “Selfish…fucking…asshole.” Shaking my head, I kicked off my heels and returned to my bedroom. Christine’s clothes were strewn around, with her panties lying on the unmade bed.
My
bed. I ripped off the sheets, the comforter, even the pillowcases, everything they touched, before lying flat on the bare mattress to stare up at the ceiling. I could still smell her everywhere.

He’d forgotten. Hell, maybe he hadn’t and simply didn’t care. He was bored with me, that much was certain. I’d done all within my power in the past six months, things I never believed I would, and still it wasn’t enough.
I
wasn’t enough. That bedroom felt like a coffin slowly losing air. My life was suffocating me. I had to get out. I barreled out of the room, grabbed my coat and purse, slid on my heels, and fled that decadent hellscape.

I was in such a hurry, and concentrating on not falling to pieces, I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. I rounded the hallway corner and ran smack into the second-to-last person I wished to encounter. Agent West was in his own head too, reviewing his notebook from his last interview, so he was equally to blame for our collision. But the moment our bodies connected, another electrical shock jolted through me, frying my already jangled nerves to the breaking point. My purse and his notebook fell to the ground as I gasped. When I glanced up and realized who it was, my mortification from our earlier encounter somehow doubled. My mouth flopped open, as did his. “I-I am so sorry,” Agent West said.

We both bent down to retrieve our belongings. All the contents of my purse spilled out, including my tampons. “It-It’s okay,” I muttered.

“Oh, uh, something’s leaking,” the Agent pointed out.

Brackish brown liquid from one of the potions flowed over the play tickets. I reached inside my purse and instantly glass sliced my finger. I just stared at the tiny shard as blood seeped down my hand and pain pulsed with every heartbeat.

That was it.

That was all it took. One tiny shard, and I burst into a million pieces. A sputtering sob escaped, then another. They wouldn’t stop. I didn’t have the strength anymore to stop them. The misery won. “Hey, hey,” Agent West whispered. Without a moment’s hesitation this stranger showed me a great kindness. He wrapped his arms around me, pulled me against him, and just held me. He didn’t attempt to kiss me, there was nothing in it for him, yet he knelt with me in that hallway until both our knees ached. Until I was empty of tears, of sorrow, of any illusions about my life. My birthday gift from the universe, the kindness of a stranger.

Best gift I ever received.

_____

And he even bought me dinner.

Nathan hadn’t eaten, and I had no idea where else to go, so we walked around the corner to a small burger joint with vinyl booths, a checkered floor, and Buddy Holly playing on the jukebox. What the waitress must have thought. Him with a wet spot on the shoulder of his rumpled suit, and me with splotchy make-up and red cocktail dress with a neckline almost to my naval. Not that I cared.
I was past caring about anything.
I could have been hit by a car and would barely have noticed.
We each ordered burgers and fries, and she quickly walked away from
the crazy people.

“How’s your finger?” Nathan asked.

I held up my bandaged finger. “Stopped bleeding. Still hurts. Had worse.”

“I’ll bet,” he said, nodding toward my bruised neck. Embarrassed, I covered that spot with my hand. He didn’t take the hint. “Doesn’t that hurt? When they … you know?”

“Only when they don’t use glamour. And even then …” I shook
my head.

“Sorry. Too personal?”

“A little. I
have
just met you,” I point out.

“Sorry. I tend to interrogate people within an inch of their lives. Even my family’s complained about it. My baby sister’s boyfriend won’t even be in the same room as me. Hazard of the job.”

“And how goes the case? Oliver told me you interviewed him. Hope he was more helpful than I was.”

“Not a lick. Seems like last night’s attack was random. Just some wolves looking for retribution. Your friends were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I think we’re really here just to make sure things don’t escalate further. Keep both factions on their best behaviors.”

“Yeah. Mrs. McGregor said your boss should just lock Peter and the wolf in a room and let them hash everything out. Or kill each other.”

“Mrs. McGregor?”

“She’s the High Priestess of the Goodnight coven. I was down there today mixing some potions for Lord Peter.”

“You’re a witch?”

“A High Priestess even,” I said with a touch of pride. The waitress returned with our cokes then left again. I sipped mine. “And you have to be something too, right? To be a F.R.E.A.K.?”

“Electricity,” he said, almost ashamed by it. “I can control it. Well, on a good day.”

“Here I thought we had something special. So, it’s not just me. You have a spark with all the girls,” I said with a smile. “You cad, you.” My new friend smiled back. “So, how long have you been an agent?”

“Since I was twenty. Two years. George, that’s our boss, recruited
me after the newspaper did a story on me.”

“What happened?”

“I was struck by lightning four times in one week, twice in the same day. It was finals week and I’d just found out my girl since middle school was cheating, with my best friend no less. I was stressed out to hell. I was clinically dead the third strike for two whole minutes. The fourth bolt actually shocked me back to life. And that wasn’t the first time it’d happened. In total, I’ve been struck six times. It’s a miracle I’m even alive.”

“Goodness.”

“Yeah. It hasn’t happened since I became an agent though. I have some measure of control now, but things still explode at least once a month, and when I’m stressed, I shock people all day.”

“Don’t feel bad. I almost killed a man once. He threatened me with a knife, and the next thing I knew a gust of wind sent him clear across the room. He hit his head and was in a coma for two days. And … I can’t believe I just told a Federal Agent that,” I chuckled.

“Well, I am damn good at my job, Annie.” Annie. No one had ever called me that. An Annie was sweet, traditional, playful. I liked it. “So, why’d he attack you? Was he a mugger or …”

“Nope, just an asshole,” I said before another sip of Coke. A change of topic was needed before I dug myself into a bigger felonious hole. “So, do you like your job? I imagine it’s quite thrilling.”

“It can be, I guess. I don’t want to do it forever, but …” He shrugged. “I get homesick a lot. My mom, my stepdad, my sister, my friends back home all think I’m a traveling salesman. I only get to see them a couple times a year.”

“Where’s home?”

“Garland, Texas. It’s this little suburb outside of Dallas. I miss it so damn much some days. The barbecues, cheering on the football team on Friday night, meeting my friends for a beer, having dinner with my family and talking about our days, you know?”

“Not even a little. It sounds wonderful, though.”

“What about you? Where’s home?”

“Hell if I know,” I chuckled wryly. “Used to think I did. Now …” I shook my head.

“What about family? Your mom and dad?”

“Dad, and I use that word loosely, died ten years ago and as far as I know Mom’s still chasing the Grateful Dead.”

“There has to be someone.”

“There was—
is
,” I corrected with a flinch. “Asher.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“That word doesn’t exactly cover what he is, but yeah.”

“The same one who made you have a nervous breakdown in the hallway?”

“He didn’t … you don’t know him,” was the only defense I could
come up with.

“From where I’m sitting, I ain’t missing much, Annie.”

“You know, for a Southerner, you are very rude.”

“You’re one to talk about manners.
I
didn’t slam a door in
your
face, if memory serves.”

I cringed at the memory. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And
if it makes you feel better, I felt terrible about it all day. But you’re still being rude now.”

“Well, I’ve been up for more than twenty-four hours getting the runaround from vampires and their friends, including a hulking Russian werewolf who threatened to do something to me illegal in most states. I would tell you to talk to me tomorrow if you want me to feed you a big plate of bullshit that your life is peachy keen, but my mama taught me never to lie. Sorry. You want that, go try one of your vamp pals. I’ve found that if their lips are wagging, the words aren’t even worth a grain of salt.”

“You really have a low opinion of vampires, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been around them for two years, and I have yet to meet one who wasn’t spoiled, selfish, or just downright evil. I’ve been to too many crime scenes where companions like
you … well, what I’ve seen will fuel my nightmares until my dying day. And I don’t want that for you. Hell, for anyone.”

“First, I’m a consort, not a companion. There is a difference. And second, Asher would never let anything like what you’re suggesting happen. He’d turn me if it did.”

“And that’s what you want? You’re what, sixteen?”

“Nineteen.”

“What about a career? A family? You just want to follow this asshole, who obviously passes you around to his friends for a midnight snack, around for all eternity?”

“He doesn’t pass … it’s this woman. Christine. She’s got him all twisted around. We were great before. We … we were happy. We
were.
If I could just get her away from him …”

“My grandmamma had a saying: ‘No matter how strong the leash, if a dog wants to chase a pig, there is not a damn thing you can do to hold it back, and you’ll just break your arm trying to.’ I’m sure his wandering eye has precious little to do with you, Annie. It’s just who he is. Nothing you can do will change that.
Nothing.
And if that is the case, you just gotta say, ‘I love you, but I love me more.’” He shook his head. “All I know is, if anyone,
anyone
puts you in a situation where you feel like you have to forfeit your dignity—hell, your self-worth—then
they
ain’t worth a one of your tears, let alone a moment of your precious life. And it
is
precious.””