Page 11 of Wicching Hour

“Okay,” Hernández replied, nodding. “Maybe she ruled against him. I’m already doing a search on any convicts who were tried in her court and are out of jail now. I’ll focus on that.”

She pulled up in front of the Sea Wicche at twelve twenty.

“Thanks for getting me back on time,” I said, opening the door and hefting my backpack.

“Listen,” she began, tapping the steering wheel. “Your agent’s right. We’ve gotten into a bad habit of just showing up and expecting you to drop what you’re doing and go with us. We really appreciate your help, but you have your own work to do. I’ll try to be better about calling ahead and checking if you’re available. Okay?”

One leg out of the car, I turned back to her. “I know I fought against doing this at first. Psychically and physically, it’s tough on me, but I’ve begun to enjoy it too. I like solving the mystery and helping to catch the bad guys. Mostly, though, what I need to focus on is finding and stopping my cousin. Once the sorcery stops, a lot of this weird, out-of-pocket violence you two investigate will stop with it.”

“Hopefully,” she said.

“Hopefully,” I echoed.

I got out while she picked up the wrapped muffin. “And thanks for this. I’ll eat it on the way into the station.”

“You’re welcome.” I slammed the door and waved. As she pulled out into traffic, I jogged up the steps of the gallery, my mind switching to what I needed to do before we opened.

SIX

Families Are Complicated

When I went in, my teenaged cousins Frank and Faith were already working on filling in the shelves and my Aunt Elizabeth was standing at the tea bar talking with my Aunt Hester. Elizabeth was Mom’s only remaining sister. Bridget, Abigail, and Sylvia were gone now. We’d learned recently that Abigail had been a sorcerer as well. She’d been the one to train Calliope when she was young. She’d also been the one to kill her sister—Sam Quinn’s mom—Bridget. My cousin Calliope brought about the death of her own mother, Sylvia.

Sometimes it felt like we needed a chart, some kind of messed-up family tree, that showed which of us had become sorcerers and killed off the others of us.

Aunt Hester was divorced from my Uncle Roger, mom’s brother. He was a tool and didn’t live around here anymore. Their daughter Pearl had been killed recently by a shitty human serial killer and Hester had been having a very difficult time wanting to live a life without her daughter in it.

Consequently, I’d been nagging her to stop by for tea and snacks, even talking her into working here a little to get her out of her very sad house that was filled with pictures and memories of Pearl. I was glad to see Elizabeth and Hester spending more time together. They were both incredibly kind women, and no doubt benefitted from talking with someone who understood loss.

My mom Sybil would have been a potential member of this club, but she was too rigid to admit weakness. She carried the weight of the Corey coven on her shoulders and had since she was a child, when she’d been tapped to eventually take over as the head of the family. Knowing my mother, she’d done what she could to put the recent death of Sylvia, her sister and best friend, out of her mind so she could carry on with her duties. Mom was so like her own mother. Neither Mom nor Gran showed weakness. They were women who were trained to rule, and they did not break.

They’d decided, as two-thirds of the Corey Council, that I would be next in line after Mom, but I wasn’t like them. Not better or worse, just different. Mom had Gran and Great-Gran as her mentors and they were tough as nails, always putting our family’s safety and prosperity first.

I was different, though, the powerfully magic half-fae wicche who couldn’t touch someone without reading their innermost thoughts or having visions of their future. They knew I was an asset to the family but weren’t sure what to make of me beyond that.

Mom—in her own way—was as indulgent as Gran had been when I was little, though perhaps for different reasons. As a scary-powerful half-faeling, I was treated differently than the rest of the family. Wicches, Coreys especially, can be quite bigoted about pure blood family lines. Great-Gran distrusted the hell out of me. Gran seemed to see me as more of a powerful weapon in the family’s arsenal. Mom, I believe, saw me as a little replica of her great love, the one she’d been forced to give up. I was the only one who was truly all hers.

Gran saw my potential to help the family. Mom, though, wanted me to live up to my own potential. I’d misread them for most of my life, thinking Mom saw me as a major disappointment. It turned out that I’d predicted something heartbreaking when I was quite young, and Mom had never really gotten over it. We were working on rebuilding our relationship, and I was secretly working on getting Mom and Dad back together.

“Here she is,” Elizabeth said as I leaned on the counter beside her. She gave me an air kiss, knowing she couldn’t touch me without causing problems. “I was just dropping off the kids. What time should I be back to pick them up?”

Hester slid me a cup of tea. “Thank you.” I inhaled deeply and then took a sip.Mmm.

I turned back to Elizabeth and said, “Seven should be fine. They shouldn’t need to stay later than closing.” I lowered my voice and said, “Do they like working here okay? I don’t want them to feel obligated if they hate it.”

“Are you kidding?” she said with a wave of her hand. “They love it here. It’s much cooler than any of their friends’ jobs and they’re getting paid more. Faith loves working on the ocean and has been running out to say hello to your Cecil.”

Elizabeth tapped the counter and said to Hester, “This week, okay? You pick the restaurant and we’ll get lunch.”

Hester nodded with the hint of a quiet smile.

“Now,” Elizabeth said, linking her elbow with mine, “walk me to my car. I need to ask you a favor.”

I dropped my backpack on the floor and walked with my aunt out the front door.

Patting my sleeve, she said, “That was a ruse. You were supposed to contact us for dinner so we could help you find Calliope. Remember, my little family has some unique gifts in the Corey clan, gifts Cal isn’t aware of because she was never particularly interested in me or my children. In the larger Corey coven, I think I’m seen as the innocuous one,” she said on a laugh. “I’m the Jane Bennet of this family.”

I laughed with her. “Meaning you’re the great beauty who marries well?”

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