Page 13 of Fresh Old Bounties

Alex’s shoulders slumped for a moment. Then he inhaled deeply and straightened, meeting Ian’s stern gaze. “No, boss.”

“Good. Go back to work. If there’s anything suspicious, I’ll call you.”

“Yes, boss,” Alex exclaimed, sounding a lot more cheerful. He tugged Key down the porch steps and all but skipped back toward the garage area.

Ian turned his attention to me, his eyes accusatory.

I lifted my hands in surrender. “I didn’t do anything.” When the silence stretched and his expression didn’t change, I asked, “Key’s doing okay?”

“Yes, your stray is doing just fine. Same as when you asked two days ago.”

And now we were both glaring. “She’s not my stray. Witches don’t have strays, they have interns.”

Since Key wasn’t working for me, she was obviously not one.

“Whatever you say, blondie.”

“Oh, we’re bringing out the big guns, huh?” I grabbed Fluffy and pushed her into Ian’s face. “Fluffy, attack!”

Fluffy licked Ian’s chin, her tail wagging madly.

Rufus woofed in displeasure, and I looked down at him. “Sorry, boy, you’re a bit too heavy for me.”

Ian wiped his chin and took Fluffy from my arms, settling her against his hip like she was a sack of potatoes. Fluffy didn’t seem to take offense, her tongue lolling like she was having the time of her life.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the picture.

Ian’s eyes narrowed, and I leaned up to kiss his cheek on a dog-drool-less spot. “I’ll call you later.”

He tugged at the green strand in my hair. “Sure.”

Ian wasn’t a man of many words, but the contentment in that single one told me plenty. Feeling like a giddy teenager, I made my way out of the house and down the lawn.

FIVE

Unfortunately, the giddiness lasted until I returned home. The sight of the envelope on the kitchen counter and Dru’s instant questions brought me back to earth with unerring aim. I relayed Ian’s opinions about the note and told Dru he would look into her ex for anything suspicious we could use against him.

Later that night, after closing the shop and eating some grilled ham and cheese sandwiches for dinner, I took a closer inspection of the note and the envelope.

Ian might think the whole situation warranted nothing beyond a simple no, thank you without the thank you, but I had a nagging suspicion that it wouldn’t be that simple. It was my first experience dealing with the dark magic spellbooks marketplace, after all. I had a right to be concerned.

A series of gurgles came through the sink pipes, and I stood to pat the faucet.

“Thank you, goldfish ghost. I appreciate the support.”

A dark shadow peeked out, then slid right back in. Back when I’d done a spell to communicate with the ghost of the dead man in my bathtub, I had not only awakened Bagley but whatever haunted the pipes. My guess was someone’s pet goldfish. Dru thought it might be a rat. Ian was of the opinion that old houses made strange noises, but that was probably because he’d love for the Council to fork over money for him and the strays to check the pipes.

Since he had already given me deep discounts with the bathroom cleaning and other things, I couldn’t blame the man.

After washing the dishes and tidying up the kitchen, I went into my bedroom to continue examining the note. It had been printed, so there wasn’t anything to discern from the handwriting, and there were no other identifying features about the paper and envelope. Common brand—not Tabbies—and it hadn’t been licked closed.

My gaze drifted to Grandma’s spellbook. Was this note related to the strange warning the spellbook had given me after we’d solved Hutton’s problem? That horrible zing of alarm and wrongness that still made my stomach sink whenever the memory crossed my mind? Holding the note in one hand, I placed my other palm on the book, bracing myself for the sting of dread.

Nothing. The fabric of the cover remained smooth, the embroidery comforting raised bumps under my fingertips. A familiar sense of clarity and goodness washed over me, and some of Grandma’s words came to mind: If you only expect the worst, you will never find the best.

“Thank you, Grandma,” I murmured.

I left the note on top of the envelope by the spellbook, hoping whatever evil intentions might be contained inside would be cleansed overnight. As I got ready for bed, I thought about the actual content of the note. How much did a good dark magic spellbook go for? Full of curiosity, I used the VPN to log onto the paranormal dark web marketplace and browse around. No spellbooks on sale, but that had to add to their rarity. They probably went for a lot of money.

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