Chapter Eight
“Your sister has returned to town.”
Dailey hated how cold his mother sounded, as if Sloane was only related to him and wasn’t her daughter. “More’s the pity for her.”
“This is serious, Dailey!”
“Oh, I’m serious.” His mother’s betrayed glare triggered his sigh. Would he ever stop feeling like a recalcitrant schoolboy being scolded by her? “Is she dying? No? Has she murdered someone? Again no? Then tell me how is this life or death.”
“I never said it was.”
His frustration boiled over. At a crucial moment with Payton, his mother had barged in and chased her away.
With another bout of clarity, Dailey recognized the power play.
Understood that by not addressing her behavior and taking a stand, he’d let the best thing in life slip through his fingers. Why had he been so damned oblivious?
Sizzling above him caught his attention, and the smallest of flaming pebbles, barely discernible to the eye, headed straight for them.
Stepping into his mother’s space, he wrapped a protective arm around her and ushered them away from the danger zone.
The stones, no bigger than those in a fish aquarium, fizzled on impact, having been snuffed out by the snow banks on either side of the walkway.
“What in the… I’ll lay odds this is that Titan Tramp’s doing!” His mother’s outrage was complete. “She’s always had it in for me, and now that she’s facing prison time, she’s trying to harm you, too, Dailey.”
For the briefest of moments, he considered she might be right.
But then shook off the drugged sensation swirling throughout his brain.
As angry as Payton had been in the past, she’d never struck out at Mother or him.
Even in the alley, on the day the Hawthorne sisters cursed him, her expression had been one of angst. And her words…
he suddenly recalled the scene with an ache in his chest.
“You were engaged, and she loves you,” Elara said, oblivious to the brewing storm.
“Elara! Please leave it alone,” Payton urged frantically.
“No. He can’t treat you like that. None of them can!” Elara stalked to her sister’s side and gripped her hand. “Aren’t you sick of it? I know I am. What do you want, sissy?” she asked.
“To take away the love he feels,” Payton said in a raw voice. “I don’t want him to hurt anymore.”
She had never meant to curse him! She’d never understood the power her sister held. Then his mother’s comment sank in. How the hell had she known he’d planned to level charges? Had she been eavesdropping?
Goddess, he was an idiot!
The tingling began, turning into a raging fire in his veins, and he cried out.
“What is it? Dailey?” His mother’s concern penetrated his pain, and he had enough presence of mind to squeeze her hand, reassuring her he was all right. The burning wave washed over him, then faded, leaving him in a clammy-skin state.
“I have to go,” he blurted.
“Go? No. We have to—”
But he didn’t stay to listen. He had to find Payton to tell her he forgave her, both for running away and for the incident in the alleyway. He also needed her to forgive him for not being the man he should’ve been.
Dailey only managed half a block before he grew dizzy. The smell of his mother’s perfume filled the air, overwhelming him, until he nearly gagged. Spinning back, he noted the intense concentration on her face as her lips moved in some silent enchantment.
Rage exploded inside his chest. Had it not been for Tripp stepping onto the path between Dailey and his mother, he wasn’t sure what he’d have done.
Tripp threw up a hand to deflect the spell.
“His mother’s mischief, meet my wall.
Return her straight to City Hall.”
Mary-Alice blinked once, dropped her arms, and, looking for all the world like an animatron, stomped her way back to her office.
“What the actual fuck?” Dailey was appalled and in a state of semi-disbelief. “She cast with me as her target! Why would she do that?”
Tripp’s obsidian eyes held nothing but regret when they met his. “I suspect she sensed she’s losing her hold over you, Cobb. Perhaps you and your siblings should meet to find sure-fire ways to protect yourselves moving forward.”
“She’s my mother,” he said, shaking his head. “Mothers, they don’t use magic against their children.”
But his just had, and there was no telling how many times she’d done so.
“I’m sorry. Not all parents are the June Cleaver sort.”
The ridiculousness of the demigod’s response surprised a laugh from him.
“You watched Leave It To Beaver?” Dailey asked with a bark of laughter.
A wry smile followed Tripp’s initial flush of embarrassment. “Yes, but only when I was feeling homesick and refused to head back to Messia to visit my parents. I’m entrusting this knowledge to you on penalty of death should you reveal it.”
“Sorry, but the cat’s out of the bag, Nightshade.” Daily gestured with his chin, indicating the sudden appearance of the Trickster behind him.
“I thought I felt a migraine forming.” Tripp shifted to allow Hermes into their circle. “What the hell do you want? Don’t you have unsuspecting females to con in your cat form?”
“Do I want to know?” Dailey asked in an aside.
“Elara needed a friend. Loner that she was, it was natural she’d adopt a stray cat,” Hermes replied with a smirk. “You’re just jealous I was curled up to her for two years, and you weren’t.”
Thunder rumbled above them, and hail pelted Hermes with icy precision.
“Asshole,” he muttered.
“You broke her heart, you dick,” Tripp snapped. “She loved Hex.”
Dailey did a double-take. “Wait, what? You pretended to be Hex? What happened to the real cat?”
“There never was one.” Hermes shrugged carelessly. “It was just to protect her from predators.”
Tripp took a threatening step toward him. “You were the predator, you bloody fool!”
Ignoring him, Hermes spoke directly to Dailey. “Why is your sky broken?”
“What?” He glanced between the cousins. “I thought Tripp instigated the hail.”
“I’m not referring to his temper tantrum. I meant the mini meteor shower.”
“The… Oh! The pebbles? Yeah, I don’t know.
It’s one more thing I’ll have to investigate today.
” As if he didn’t have enough on his plate!
But if someone were a threat to the residents, they needed to be stopped.
This close to the holiday, there were additional tourists, too, and they couldn’t risk exposing their secrets.
Amusement flared in the Trickster’s impossibly green eyes, making them look like polished emeralds. They also made Dailey uneasy.
He scowled. “What am I missing?”
“When I can prove my theory, you’ll be the first to know.” With a wink and a jaunty grin, Hermes strolled away.
“I’m beginning to hate that guy,” he muttered.
“You should. He had designs on Payton.”
Dailey bristled as he whipped around to stare at Tripp. “What the fuck are you talking about? When? While she and I were together?”
FWOOOOOOOSH—
A blazing rock ripped through the fabric of space overhead, heading straight for the “Welcome to Witchmere!” sign. It burst into flames, eliciting shouts from passersby.
“Sonofabitch!”
“I’ll take care of it,” Tripp offered. “You find your siblings and get an anti-Mother ward in place. You’re going to need it when my enchantment wears off.”
“Right. Thanks.”
After checking both ways for vehicles, Dailey jogged across the street toward his brother’s office.
“Isn’t that jaywalking?” Rowan called out. “Or doesn’t the law apply to you?”
“Don’t you have a job, Wolfy? Or is it to stand around and attract unsuspecting tourists with your honey trap?” he taunted. “Once they realize you’re all vinegar and no sweet, they’ll hightail it.”
“You’d know all about hightailing hotties, Officer Knob,” she retorted, making him laugh.
Call him a masochist, but he found her brand of sass delightful.
Put her and Payton together, and it was a riot.
Or it had been. Wildfire and Wolfy, he’d nicknamed them.
Both befitting their personalities. Nostalgia for the good ol’ days struck him, and he acknowledged his emotions were returning in full force.
He sobered as he recalled those nights they’d all hung out.
Back before rings and ultimatums ruined everything.
And somewhere along the way, Rowan’s snarky humor had veered toward mean and all directed at him or his family. With good reason, it seemed.
“You laughed,” she said, approaching him with a deep frown. “That’s twice today you broke your sourpuss mood. What gives?”
“I’m not sure, but I think the Hawthorne sisters’ curse might finally be wearing off.”
“Curse? What are you talking about? Neither Payton nor Elara would do such a thing. They’re too soft. Me? Sure. Them, nah.”
“Good to know who I need to keep an eye out for,” he said dryly.
Her expression became earnest. “Please, Dailey. Don’t break her heart again.”
“She broke mine, Rowan.”
“You should’ve stood up to Mary-Alice. Only you can.”
“I’m not so sure,” he replied with a thoughtful look at City Hall. His mother was backlit in her office window overlooking the street below.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rowan demanded with hands on hips. “You’re either man enough to stand up for your woman, or you’re a wuss. Which is it?”
He met her angry gaze. “I always believed I was the first. But I think the Hawthornes aren’t the only ones who enacted a spell.”
Nonplussed, Rowan dropped her arms and followed his line of sight to the mayor’s office.
“Dailey! What are you saying? Your mother interfered?”
“You tell me. What do you smell?”
“Other than burnt bread coming from The Enchanted Oven?”
He snorted. “Poor Willa. She can’t seem to master her gran’s recipes, can she?”
“She should sell the place to an actual baker.” Rowan’s grin flashed. “But she won’t because everyone in Witchmere has her convinced she should be on that British bake-off show.”
“It’s by the grace of the Goddess she doesn’t poison someone. I really should shut her down.” Dailey shuddered.
“You missed your chance. You should’ve done that while you didn’t have a heart,” Harrison said as he joined them. His eyes practically threw hearts as they locked on Rowan, but only those who knew him well would see it. “Sanderson.”
“Knob.” With a flip of her long, red locks, she pivoted on her heel and stalked away.
“You didn’t answer me,” Dailey called.
With an irritated look and a grimace, she returned. “Step back, Harrison,” she ordered. “I can’t get any other scent with you poisoning the air.”
His brother’s mouth kicked up on one side before he quickly suppressed it and retreated a few yards away.
Eyeing them both with suspicion, Rowan leaned in, sniffed, and recoiled.
“Yeah, holy shitballs, dude. It’s like you bathed in your mother’s perfume or something. And if that’s your thing, I ain’t judging. Much.” With a casual wave, she trotted away.
“What was that all about?” Harrison asked, his gaze locked on Rowan’s retreating form.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t overhear us. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have made the comment about my heart, as accurate as it was.
” Dailey stepped between his brother and the object of his obsession.
And why did it bother him more to suspect his brother of wrongdoings than their mother?
“We need to talk. Can you text Sloane and get her to teleport to your inner sanctum? I’m assuming it’s warded against outside influence and soundproof? ”
“Yeah.” His brother’s expression screamed concern. “Should we include Mother? Is this an attack on—”
“No!” They both winced at his shouted response. A few passersby shot them curious looks. “Uh, no. I, uh… Ah, shit, Harry. If what I’m beginning to suspect is true, we have a real problem.”
“Okay, let’s get off the street.” Pulling out his phone, Harrison shot off a text. A few seconds later, a chime indicated Sloane’s response. “She’ll be here in five.”