Page 45 of Brimstone and Broomsticks
“So you went back inside to have a drink with Lucien and John, then left them to head to your hidey-hole?” Cassie asked, her eyes narrowing.
The troll squirmed. “No. I had it in my pocket for a while.”
“Where did you go directly after the fight at the tavern?”
She glared. “I’m not telling you. That’s private. It’s none of your business.”
“I can make you tell me, Alberta, but I’d prefer not to. Where did you go directly after the fight at the tavern?”
I glanced at Cassie in surprise. Had she just threatened to go all law-and-order on the troll? Was she finally taking her place as head witch of this town? If that was the case, then I was definitely staying. Cassie in bed with me was incredible. Cassie as a witch, partnering with me, sharing energy in spells, was just as incredible. Seeing her like this—confident, skilled, taking charge… It made me realize I wanted more than a partnership with this witch, I wanted an eternity.
Alberta didn’t find Cassie’s threat as erotically compelling as I did. The troll puffed up her chest and glared back at the witch. “That’s illegal. You can’t do that to me. The sheriff would need to arrest me, and I’d get a lawyer—a lawyer that isn’t you. And there’s no cause to arrest me.”
“Technically you’re right. Our law enforcementismodeled on a human system, and since Grandma’s death, there hasn’t been any deviation from that system.” Cassie took a step forward, her foot crossing the threshold. “Until now. You can tell me or I can make you tell me. Those are your options, and afterward if you want to go complain to the sheriff, you can. But remember that living in Accident is a privilege, Alberta. It’s a privilege that can easily be revoked if I find there’s been a murder and you’ve not cooperated with the investigation.”
The expression on the troll’s face said everything. Cassie had done it. She’d just taken her place as the witch that ran things in this town. There was no backing down for her now.
Or for me.
“I’m not involved in a murder.” The troll’s voice was a panicked whisper. “Don’t kick me out, Cassie. Don’t. I’m not involved in any murder. I picked up the coin, then I joined my lover for a while. I don’t want to name who that is because there are complications—complications that can get them seriously hurt or even killed. Please don’t force me to tell you who I was with. And please don’t kick me out of the town.”
Cassie’s expression momentarily softened. “I don’t want to kick you out Alberta. And I don’t want to get your lover strung up for cheating on his or her wife with you. There was a lot of blood in that hotel room. We’re worried about Clinton. He might be a total ass, but he’s still a resident of this town and we need to make sure he’s okay.”
The troll began to cry. Huge watery tears soaked her face and the front of her shirt. It was like watching a river pour down someone’s face. Cassie dug in her pockets for a Kleenex, handing it over to Alberta. It didn’t help much. With a few gulps, the troll got control of herself, wiping her face with the sodden, shredded tissue.
“I hate Clinton. I hate him. But I’m not a murderer. I’m not,” she insisted with a warble in her voice. “I’m telling you right now that I didn’t kill him. I can’t lie. I’m a fae and I can’t lie. I didn’t kill Clinton.”
“Okay, okay. I believe you,” Cassie patted her on the shoulder. “So after you left your lover? Then what? Tell me what happened?”
Alberta swallowed hard. “After we parted, I went to take my treasure to my special place. And crossing the deadfall, I snagged my bracelet and dropped the coin. I went to my special place and realized that I’d lost the coin. Then I came straight back to my bridge here, and didn’t leave for the rest of the night.”
I was sure she was telling the truth, but something about the way she’d worded it bothered me. Was this really what had happened. Did Alberta have nothing to do with Clinton? Had she just picked up the fallen coin, gone to rock the sheets with whoever she was banging, then gone to stash the coin in her secret place?
Cassie eyed the troll. “So you didn’t see Clinton Dickskin again after the fight outside the tavern was over?”
“Last time I saw Clinton Dickskin, he was alive. He was bloody and had the crap beaten out of him, but he was alive. If he’s dead, then I had nothing to do with it,” Alberta proclaimed.
Which wasn’t exactly what Cassie had asked. She thanked the troll for her cooperation and we headed back to her car.
“She knows what happened to Clinton.” I mused. “He was alive when she last saw him, but maybe someone killed him after that—someone who was also responsible for dumping a bucket of the werewolf’s blood on the floor of my hotel room.”
Cassie nodded. “I agree. I could pry the information out of her, but I really don’t want to burn that bridge right now, and I’m not sure what sort of magical toll it would take on me to ferret answers out of a reluctant fae.”
“With my help? Not much of a toll at all.” I halted her, taking her arms in my hands. “Cassie, your magic calls to me. It begs me to share myself with you. This is the bond between a witch and a demon. This is why covens over the centuries have summoned demons. This is why a bonding, a partnership with a demon is so valuable—for both of us.”
She reached out to put her hands on my waist. “It’s not just the magical toll, Lucien. I don’t want to do that to Alberta. I don’t want to start off throwing my witch-weight around like that. I don’t want people in this town to be afraid of me, like I’m some powerful dictator with a demon to back me up. Yes, I’ll use force if absolutely necessary. But that needs to be a last result, not my first action. Does that make sense?”
No, but if that’s the way she wanted to run her town, then I wasn’t going to argue. Things were different in hell, but I wasn’t in hell. And I was more interested in supporting Cassie and being her partner in all ways then arguing with her about the proper use of forceful magic.
I kissed her lightly, giving her bottom lip a quick nip with my teeth as I pulled away. “Okay, sweetheart. Just know that I’m here and ready to go whenever you need me. Like a demon battery.”
“Hopefully one of those go-all-night batteries.” She smacked my ass and headed to the driver’s side of the car. “But that’s later—afterwe find Clinton Dickskin.”
I was suddenly very motivated to find Clinton Dickskin.
“So Alberta saw Clinton after the fight, and he was alive,” I commented as we drove away from the troll’s bridge. “Am I reading that right? Troll speak?”
“You’re reading that right.” Cassie turned the car away from town and back toward the forest. “She’s got a forbidden lover she can’t, or won’t, name—one that she saw after the fight and before she went to hide my coin with her other treasures. By her timeline, she would have had to have seen Clinton while she was with her ‘lover’, while she was over at the deadfall, or afterward when she was home the rest of the night.”
