Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
T he smell of maple syrup and coffee tickled Stella’s nose, and though the delicious aromas woke her, she didn’t open her eyes.
Instead, she surrendered to the illusion that she was six years old again, waking up to the sounds of her parents cooking Saturday breakfast, Jade stirring in the twin bed next to her, mourning doves cooing in Washington Square across the street.
The bittersweet mind fuck didn’t last long, even as the mouth-watering aromas lingered.
She pushed up on her elbows. There were no windows in the wolves’ storage room, but her overall stiffness told her she’d slept for a long time. She’d put good money on it being well after noon— good money, that is, if she had even two measly nickels to rub together.
She glanced down at Ethan who was still sound asleep and lying on his stomach. She could just barely make out the edge of the white sheet that was pushed all the way down to the small of his back and clinging to the curve of his mighty fine ass.
Not wanting to wake him by turning on the lights, she snapped up a couple of small finger flames and turned to survey the room.
Two coffee mugs and a plate piled high with pancakes sat atop a tower of boxes that were stacked by the door.
Their bath towels lay crumpled on the floor by the boxes; her red dress pooled on the floor a little closer to the bed. Ethan’s pants were folded neatly on one of the wire shelves, and the witch board lay beside it.
The witch board…
Slowly, Stella peeled back the sheet and walked to the shelves on silent feet. They’d been in such a flurry of panic last night, she really hadn’t taken the time to study the strange artifact they’d found under the floorboards of David Hurley’s office.
She’d have to remember to thank Catherine for her visions about the key. Without it, they might never have found the witch board, and it was clearly important. Why else would her father take such pains to hide it?
Stella picked up the board and ran her finger along its smooth edge. It was approximately twelve inches square, half an inch thick, and— she sniffed it—made of cedar.
She was surprised to find that the wood was still incredibly aromatic. That made her think it wasn’t very old, but the design was so plain and straightforward, lacking even the most primitive of embellishments, she doubted her assessment.
Unlike the ouija boards she sold at her store—which had letters arranged sequentially in an arc with the numbers zero through nine in a row underneath—this board had no letters at all, and the silver numbers repeated over and over around its border, though not in a regular numerical sequence.
The center of the board was completely bare. She turned the board over. There was nothing on the back either. Not even a marking to suggest its maker.
The mattress groaned as Ethan rolled onto his side. His voice was rough with sleep when he asked, “What time is it?”
Stella found Ethan’s phone in the pocket of his pants and checked. It was as she suspected, well after noon. “Two o’clock.”
Ethan flopped onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes. “Any messages from Antoinette?”
“Antoinette?” she asked.
“Was she able to clean up the scene last night?”
Ah. He meant, were she and Jun able to move Hurley’s body somewhere safe and erase all evidence that would connect them to his death?
Stella punched in Ethan’s password and opened his texts. There was, in fact, a message from Antoinette, time-stamped six a.m. “She texted, ‘Thanks for inviting me to the party. I had a great time.’”
Ethan grunted, and his lips curled up into a smile. “Smart.”
“How is that smart?” Stella asked.
“More than one person saw a group of people racing out of the Four Seasons hotel, chasing a man dressed as William fucking Shakespeare. After Hurley’s body is discovered, if someone figures out who any of us were, we don’t want investigators discovering a text message between us that says, ‘mission accomplished,’ or even a simple ‘done.’ A thumbs-up emoji would even look bad.”
“No one’s going to suspect us of being involved. No one, that is, except my father.”
“Masks aren’t foolproof. Things slip.”
Hmmm , Stella thought, and she refocused on the witch board.
“Do I smell maple syrup?” Ethan asked, sitting up.
“Yeah.” She swung her arm—and the firelight—out toward the boxes by the door.
“When did that get here?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but I think it’s still hot.”
“Smells like it.” Ethan got out of bed and walked naked toward the food. “Doesn’t look like you’ve had any yet.”
Stella turned, reacting to the surprise in his voice. “I guess I got distracted.”
His gaze dipped from her face to the board in her hands. “What did you call that thing?”
“A witch board. Sometimes they’re called talking boards.”
“Have you used one before?” Ethan took a bite of pancakes, then wiped a drip of syrup off his chin.
Stella shook her head. “Can I use your phone? I need to call Magnus.”
“Have at it.” Ethan turned back toward the food.
She dialed, and Magnus picked up with his typical enthusiasm. “Broomstix. Blink and you’ll myth it.”
Stella sighed. “Hey. Can you do me a favor and pull all the books we have on magical artifacts?”
There was a moment of hesitation and a shuffling sound before Magnus asked, “Magical…um… artifacts? ”
“Yeahhh,” she said, stretching out the word because she didn’t understand the worried tone in his voice. “Bonus points if they have a chapter on witch boards.”
“Right. So, um…”
“Magnus, what’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing!” he exclaimed, then his voice dropped lower. “Nothing.”
“Magnus…” she said warningly.
Ethan pulled the fork out of his mouth. “What’s wrong?”
Stella put the call on speaker.
“I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” Magnus said, “but someone came in this morning and bought all of them.”
“ What?! ” Stella shouted.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Magnus cried. “I thought you’d be happy. We didn’t have that many books on the subject—only a half dozen or so—but it was a pretty big sale and a nice start to the day.”
“It’s okay,” Stella said, closing her eyes and summoning calm. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It sounds like I did,” Magnus said.
“No,” she assured him. “There’s a bad actor, but it’s not you. Who was it? Who came in to the store?”
“Never saw her before.”
“ Her? ” Stella was so sure her father was behind it that the image of a woman got her a little rattled. Did this thing just get bigger than it already was? Was he now presenting as a woman?
“Yeah,” Magnus said. “A lady. My mom’s age maybe. Blond-ish hair. Big smile.”
The description didn’t help much. In fact, it could have described Ethan’s mother.
“Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out,” Ethan said.
“Oh, hi, Ethan!” Magnus said.
“We’ll be back to the store soon,” Stella said. “I’m sure you’ve got somewhere you’d rather be this afternoon.”
“Not really,” Magnus admitted. “Especially if you’ve got something big going down.”
Stella rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, wishing her young friend would be a little less excited about finding trouble. “See you later, Magnus.”
“Okay. Bye, Stella.”
She hung up, then went back to Antoinette’s text to pull up her number. Broomstix didn’t have a monopoly on books about magical artifacts. Far from it. Antoinette had inherited Lovey DuPre’s cache of information.
Antoinette answered on the first ring. “Nope. Nothing. I ain’t got shit.”
“You ain’t got…?” Stella looked up at Ethan.
He shook his head, obviously equally confused by her greeting.
“What are you talking about?” Stella asked.
“I assume you’re calling to see if I’ve found any information in Gran’s books about that weird board we found last night.”
“Well…” Stella said, giving big eyes to Ethan. “Yeah.”
“Like I said, I ain’t got shit,” Antoinette repeated. “Not a single book on witch boards.”
“Anything on magical artifacts in general?” Stella asked.
“Nada. So, I’ve been googling all morning looking for something that resembled the one we found. Still nothing.”
“All right,” Stella said, feeling defeated. “Thanks for looking and for…coming with us to the party.”
“Can’t say it was a pleasure, but at least it’s never dull running with you two.”
“Right,” Stella said, bowing her head toward the phone. Right now, she wouldn’t mind life being just a little bit dull.
“Where you at now?” Antoinette asked.
“The wolf den. We’re heading back to Salem as soon as we’re dressed.”
“Oowee, girly,” Antoinette said. “If you’ve got that man naked, do yourself a favor and take…your…sweet…time.”
“Uh, Antoinette?” Stella said. “You’re on speaker.”
“ And? ” she asked. “That man can’t be surprised. He’s got a mirror.”
Ethan laughed and went back to the boxes to eat more pancakes.
Stella said her goodbyes, then returned Ethan’s phone to his pants pocket. “Get dressed. We need to get home. Check on Jade.”
Ethan forked up another bite of pancakes and made an airplane motion toward Stella’s mouth.
She opened for him.
He stuck the pancakes in and gave her a sticky peck on the lips while she chewed.
A knock sounded at the storage room door.
“One second,” Ethan called.
“It’s Roman,” said the alpha wolf on the other side of the door.
“We’re getting dressed,” Ethan said, swallowing one more bite of pancakes. “Better get dressed, Red.”
They did—Ethan covering Stella’s strapless dress with his suit jacket again—and they exited.
Roman was waiting for them in the kitchen, leaning against the humming refrigerator.
“Thanks for the hospitality,” Ethan said.
“Never a problem,” Roman said. “Stryker filled me in on last night.”
“Right,” Ethan said.
“Hawk’s not happy that Abby got hurt.”
“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Ethan said. “Did I misread the situation?”
Roman shook his head. “She’s fine. Hawk’s just pissed he wasn’t there when it happened. She could’ve gotten a hangnail, and he’d be pissed.”
Ethan laughed. “Okay, then is there something else you wanted to talk about? We were just about to get out of your hair.”
Roman clenched his teeth, and a muscle flexed in his jaw. “I think you’re overestimating your capabilities when it comes to bringing this Collector down.”
“I—” Stella said before really knowing what she wanted to say.
Fortunately, Roman cut her off. “I put in a call to a witch I know in a coven in Virginia. They apparently are well aware of what’s going on, and they prefer to take defensive measures rather than go on offense.”
“Okay,” Ethan said. “That’s fine for them. Best of luck to them.”
“But I know someone who might be up for the fight,” Roman said.
“Who?” Stella asked, adjusting the witch board under her arm.
“Joanie Wright.”
Stella blinked once. He couldn’t be serious. She deadpanned, “Goodwife Joan Wright?”
“What kind of help is she offering?” Ethan asked.
“Ethan!” Stella cried. “She backstabbed us. She turned us in, and we were attacked.”
“Because she’s a survivor,” Ethan said. “Remember. That’s what she said. And we need someone on our side who knows how to stay alive.”
“I don’t know…”
“Think on it,” Roman said. “It’s not like you’re running into battle today, are you?”
Stella shook her head. “We’ve got some loose pieces that we’re trying to fit together before we make a move.”
“Then you’ve got time,” Roman said. “Let me know what you decide.”
“Thanks,” Ethan said. “Now, we’ll be getting out of your hair. Whoever made breakfast, thank them for us, will you?”
“You got it.” Roman lowered his gaze to the witch board tucked under Stella’s arm. “I’ll get you a bag for whatever that is.”
Forty-five minutes later, Stella and Ethan were back in Salem and walking in the front door of Broomstix. Magnus was gone for the day. Catherine was behind the counter, doodling. As soon as she saw Ethan, she sighed with relief and hopped off the stool.
Marietta’s presence, however, was a surprise. She stood by the center display table with a huge grin on her face. The fringe on her purple batik tunic practically vibrated with her obvious excitement. The silver streaks in her long, dark hair stood out in stark relief.
Before Stella could ask what Marietta was doing there, Catherine had rounded the counter and run up to Ethan. “Did you find your key?”
“We did,” Ethan said with a big smile. “Thanks, Mom. It was inside a folder we found at David Hurley’s office.”
Catherine’s forehead furrowed, and she pulled her chin back into her neck. “A folder?”
“Yes,” Ethan said. “Taped inside.”
“But…” Catherine released his arm and took a step backward. “That’s not right.”
“It is,” Ethan insisted. “It was even round. Just like you said. Everything worked out perfectly.”
Stella wasn’t sure that ‘perfectly’ was the best characterization of last night, but she didn’t correct him.
“We owe it to you, Mom,” Ethan finished, his voice warm and sincere. “We found?—”
“No,” Catherine said, shaking her head. “That can’t be it. Oh dear, I have to think on this.”
Her gaze got that faraway look she often got. She walked right past Ethan and headed for bookshelves where she began pacing.
“Mom?” Ethan asked. “We found something else you should see.”
Stella raised the plastic bag that Roman had given her to carry the witch board.
But Catherine didn’t have any interest in what Ethan was saying. In fact, she didn’t seem to hear him at all. She was already muttering to herself and rolling a crystal around in her fingers.
Stella lowered the bag. She was quite sure that she’d never get used to the woman’s eccentricities.
“Judith was much the same sometimes,” Marietta said.
“I don’t remember Judith’s prophetic episodes ever being so odd,” Stella commented. “No offense, Ethan.”
“None taken,” he said. “My mother is an enigma.”
“So,” Marietta said, pulling their attention back to her. “I take it you were successful last night?”
Stella pulled the witch board out of the bag. “Have you ever seen something like this before?”
Marietta frowned and stepped closer. She rubbed her palm over the board’s surface. “Never. What is it?”
“We don’t know exactly,” Ethan said. “Stella thinks it’s a witch board.”
“Hmmm,” Marietta said noncommittally. “Where did it come from?”
“We found it hidden in an attorney’s office,” Stella said.
Marietta looked up, her eyes round.
“It’s a long story,” Ethan said. “We’ll explain later.”
Stella slipped the board back into the bag and remembered what she’d meant to ask Marietta when she’d first walked in. “What are you doing at the store, Marietta? Has Jade recovered?”
“She’s fine,” the older witch said cheerily, even clapping her hands once. “Right as rain. And I’m here , darling, to save the day. I’ve found just what you need to stop your father.”