Page 75 of Wicching Hour

Orla nodded. “I see. I’m afraid I’m quite tired. I’ve been going to bed late so I could scout. The food and tea have helped, but I should get going. I don’t want to fall asleep on the drive home.”

“Oh, let me,” Bracken said. “I just purchased a new vehicle and would be happy to drive you home. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” He stood and looked around, patting his pockets. He handed me the two accurate maps, folding his back into his journal. “You should hold on to those, safe behind your wards.”

“Good idea,” I said, slipping them into my pocket. “Orla, let me get you some food to take with you.” I filled up a container and snapped it shut. “These are fine in the freezer for a bit. You don’t have to worry about eating it all right away—unless you want to.”

I handed her the container. Bracken led her out and down the deck to his Bronco. Deciding werewolves were always up for more food, I took what was left on the platter and brought it into the gallery.

The men appeared to be shopping. Tyler held up a vase and Jake nodded. Tyler handed it off to Declan, who added it to a collection of pieces at the cash wrap.

“Jake, you were too busy being grumpy earlier. Would you like something to eat now?” I held up the platter.

Declan walked over and snagged a muffin. “I saw Bracken and Orla walk by. Everything okay?”

I nodded. “Yep. The poor thing has been missing sleep to scout for us. This is way past an owl’s bedtime. Bracken is driving her home so she doesn’t fall asleep behind the wheel.”

“Good.” He finished the muffin in two bites.

Jake and Tyler walked over, Jake holding one of my big wave bowls. The glaze on the inside was an iridescent blue-green. The outside of the bowl base was a matte black, so the wave appeared to be hanging in space.

“Okay,” Tyler said, “I thought you were an adorable little badass before, but now? Holy crap. You’re an artistic genius! Everywhere I look, I see something I desperately want in my home so I can marvel at it for decades to come.”

“Thank you.” I held out the platter, embarrassed by the praise. “Muffin?”

Grinning, he took two in his large hand and gave Jake one.

I looked again at what they had accumulated on the counter. “Um, you guys know my stuff is expensive, right?” I grimaced, feeling like an idiot. This is why other people needed to handle selling my stuff.

“We have money,” Jake growled, taking a bite and pausing, his eyes closing.

Tyler noticed Jake’s reaction too and said, “I told you,” to him before winking at me. He picked up one of the pecan lace cookies. “Ooh, pretty.” He took a bite and then grabbed a handful off my platter, passing one to Jake.

“I was thinking,” I said to Declan. “I’m going to need more chairs for tonight. Do you have any or should I find a party rental—no. Mom has chairs. If I tell her about the dinner and the planning, though, she’ll want to be involved. Which, now that I think about it, makes sense. I got the feeling, though, that Aunt Elizabeth wanted it to just be her family at this, like there are some things she’s not comfortable sharing with the whole class.”

“You’re a member of the Council,” Declan said, “so that’s covered. Your Gran basically put you in charge of hunting down a sorcerer, which is…” He shook his head. “I say go with the original plan and if we decide on something tonight, you can tell your Mom and Gran afterward. You can’t tell someone it’s their job and then expect a say every step of the way.”

“Maybe you can’t,” I said, patting his arm, “but they definitely can.” I started preparing excuses in my head as to why they were left out. “Okay, just us. So, chairs?”

Declan nodded. “Some are folding chairs, but I should be able to find—what—seven, right?”

I nodded. “You, me, Aunt Elizabeth, Uncle Robert, Frank, Faith, and Great-Uncle Bracken.”

“Do you want us patrolling the gallery?” Tyler asked.

Jake gave him a sharp look, but Tyler just grinned. Jake glared at his partner for a count of three and then relaxed into a nod.

“Fine,” Jake grumbled.

Declan wrapped an arm around me. “Thank you.”

“That’d be great,” I said, “but it’s pretty short notice. Are you available to be here tonight?”

Tyler nodded. “I even packed us a bag so we can stay down here for a few days.”

Jake’s brows drew together again. “When did you do that?”

“While you were showering. There’s a duffle in the truck box.” Tyler looked over at Declan. “I had a good feeling about you. You’re not Alexander, but that’s not all bad. Your dad was a good man and a powerful wolf, but there’s no way he would have mated himself to a wicche. He basically disowned his son Michael, who should have succeeded him as Alpha, for marrying a wicche.” He paused, eyes widening. “Wait.” He pointed at me. “Your aunt?”

I nodded. “My Aunt Bridget. Apparently, when I was about three-ish, I went up to them at their engagement party to tell them they’d have a daughter and that I was sad they’d both die.”

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