Page 45 of The Wolfing Hour
He shook his head; the purple hat flopped around but didn’t fall.
I drove to Ida’s place and parked behind the LTD, the back half of the Mini sticking out into the street. She appeared at the top of her porch steps and waved. I grabbed the scones and held out my arm to Cecil, who scampered up onto my shoulder.
“Tell Fennel to keep close watch over her, okay? She’s important to me.” I turned to my shoulder and gently tapped his nose. “Like you.”
I left them with one less scone and an admonition to be careful, blasted KLXX—the song was “Rock Your Baby” by George McCrae—and boogied myself into La Paloma.
Beau’s Oddities was a head shop/paranormal bookstore on the more interesting side of La Paloma. It was owned by one of Mom’s—and, more recently, my—good friends, Beau Glazier.
“Sure, I’ll give you some blood. How much do you need?”
“Just a few drops.” I handed him a vial and lancet.
“No worries, man. I know why you’re doing it.” He wiped his thumb with the alcohol pad and used the lancet, squeezing a few drops into the vial.
I’d expected him to be chill about the request. Beau was what you got if you blended Nicolas Cage’s look inMandywith Matthew McConaughey’s vibe inDazed and Confused. He was one of the good guys.
“I’m not sure Floyd considers you fair game, but just in case.”
“Honestly, I think it’s cool. Never had ahealcharm keyed especially to me. I’ve always made do with the cheap ones the traveling witches hawk when they come through—no offense.”
“None taken. And all you had to do was ask. I’d have crafted you one at cost.”
“Thanks.” He smiled, showing a hint of a dimple. “Anyway, you aren’t a travel witch anymore, are you? You’re a staying-put witch now, like Lila was.”
The Lennox witches had been traveling witches for generations. My ancestors had traveled across cities, countries, and continents, bringing magic to people who needed it. I’d always believed it was the life I was destined to live.
“Looks that way,” I said. “Beau, can I ask you a question?”
“Is it about Lila and me?”
“Yes.”
“Then, no.”
“What the hell, Beau? I’m not asking for relationship details. I just need to know if she ever gave you anything to hang onto for her. Photos, mementos, anything like that.”
“Oh. No, she didn’t.” He looked serious for a moment. “Look, we were a comfort to each other, Betty. Two lonely people trying to be a little less alone. I would’ve liked more, but her heart belonged to someone else. So, I contented myself with what wehad, which wasn’t all that deep.” His blue eyes misted over. “I miss her.”
“Me, too.”
“Whatever she did, you’ve got to know how much she loved you. Your safety was on her mind all the time.”
“So I hear.”
He shrugged. “She was a good person.”
“I know.”
“I know you know,” he replied.
“I also know that you would’ve been a cool stepdad. Where were you when I was a kid?” I asked, both to lighten the mood and because I meant it. He really would’ve been a lot of fun.
“Right? I’d have let you do pretty much anything you wanted, probably encouraged you to get in trouble—goodtrouble.” He handed me the capped vial. “Be safe out there, Betty. Alpha Pallás is no joke. He’s power-hungry and evil as shit. And that second of his isn’t any better.”
“You’re preaching to the choir.” I tucked the vial into my bag, and Beau disposed of the lancet. “I’ll get you the charm as soon as it’s finished. My guys are on it, but they take time to craft.”
He nodded. “It’s cool. Is there anything else you need? Books? Maybe something to cut the tension?” He gestured toward the back room where he kept the marijuana-related paraphernalia he sold.
