Chapter Three
“There’s something I’ve been wondering about. Why didn’t you smite the highway demon?”
Ida sat across from me at her kitchen table sipping coffee and picking at a freshly baked strawberry cream cheese Danish. We’d slept for a grand total of six hours and met at seven a.m. for coffee and to discuss the night’s events.
Not that I wanted to discuss them, but this was our habit after a job.
“Got another favor out of him.” I licked strawberry jam off my fingers.
“He tried to take that little girl’s soul,” she said.
“He also posed as Mictlantecuhtli and got some doofus rats to worship him. He got you to pick him up and talk to him. Neither of his plans worked in the end. He’s persuasive, but his follow-through is pathetic.”
“Seems like you keep threatening him, and he keeps ignoring you. A year ago, you wouldn’t have put up with that garbage.”
“A year ago, I wasn’t strong enough to banish him, much less smite him.
” I finished the pastry and took my plate to the sink.
“The truth is, he’s got just enough demon power to be useful and little enough brain power to be manipulated.
Plus, with all the stuff going on with us right now, he might come in handy. ”
“You mean Ronan’s father. Alpha Floyd.”
I nodded. “I’ve been tallying favors and making phone calls. I don’t know where the bastard is, but the second he shows up, I have to be ready to take him down.”
“Don’t you mean Ronan has to take him down?” she asked.
“Well, yeah. But I’ll be damned if he’s going to do it alone.” I refilled my mug with Ida’s delicious coffee and sat back down across from her.
“He has to do it alone, Betty. The pack won’t accept him if you help.”
“Only if they know I helped.” I smiled over the rim of my mug.
The eyebrows I’d penciled on her before we sat down to breakfast dipped down.
“I’m not talking about interfering in an alpha challenge, Ida. I’m talking about doing everything I can to keep Ronan safe so he’s alive to challenge Floyd.”
“I guess I can understand that. Just be careful.”
“I will.”
Ida gave me a commiserating smile. “His own father tried to kill him. Makes sense that he’d be worried about the people around him. Let the wolf handle it his way.”
I set the mug on the table and tented my hands around it. “He’s been taking more chances lately. I don’t like it.”
“Chances?”
“He’s gone back to work, for one thing.”
“Did you expect him to stay hidden away in your house forever?”
“I was hoping for longer than one day. He’s not even home from last night’s shift.”
“Could he have stayed in his apartment? Until you two shacked up, he lived there full-time. All his stuff is there.”
“Shacked up?” I probably should have taken offense but couldn’t muster any. “Actually, that’s not a bad way to describe it. Impolite, but then I’ve always toed the line between propriety and truth.”
“Me, too.” She bit into her Danish. “Staying at the apartment makes sense if he’s meeting with his ex-packmates.”
She was right, and I knew he’d been strategizing with a small group of higher-ranking alphas who supported him.
“With Floyd gone,” Ida continued, “it’s the perfect time for him to get the pack on his side.”
“I know. I’m just worried. Ronan’s a good guy. Floyd is a lying, cheating scumbag. They don’t fight the same way.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think your wolf could go low if he needed to.”
He’d done it before, when his old pack murdered his stepfather. Ronan was good and kind, but he was also the most powerful wolf shifter I’d ever met. I needed to release the idea that he couldn’t take care of himself.
Why is that so damn difficult?
Because you love him, dummy.
And if I loved Ronan, I had to stop trying to control the danger spinning around him like a cyclone. Wasn’t that the whole reason I’d laid into him after he kept his location from me to “protect me” from his father? If I wanted openness, I had to give it, too. It didn’t work otherwise.
“He needs to do this his way.” Ida’s gaze softened. “Listen, I understand. Loving someone enough to get out of their way isn’t easy—especially to a natural-born protector like you.”
I was getting tired of her being right, so I decided to change the subject. “Hey, thanks for helping Fennel cleanse Violeta’s room last night when I was out of it. Cecil destroyed the remains of the melted monitor, so she shouldn’t have any issues.”
“You’re welcome. I offered to replace it in case the girl needs it for school, but Maria told me she’s giving her a new laptop for her birthday next month.
She’ll make out okay.” One brow shot up.
“You know, Maria’s very grateful to us for helping out.
Get this … the woman almost smiled when we were leaving last night. ”
“What?” I gripped my chest as if I were in the throes of a heart attack.
“That could’ve been because we were going away,” she said. “Hard to know for sure. Maria’s kind of a closed book.”
The mandrake in the tiny clay pot let out a whistling sigh as she sunned herself in the front window—black BB eyes closed, delicate leaves unfurled.
“Want me to take Meredith to the garden room to hang out in the rosemary this morning?” I asked.
“If you wouldn’t mind. I’m playing tennis with Gladys at the senior center in La Paloma at nine, so I’ll pick her up after.”
“You two be careful. Anyone connected to Ronan and me is walking around with a target on their back.”
Ida winked. “Don’t you worry. This old necromancer’s still got moves.”
True. Still, I couldn’t help worrying. Ida was important to me, and Floyd knew that. Everyone in town did.
Instead of harping on the subject, I thanked her for breakfast, scooped up Meredith’s pot, and headed for my happy place.
From the outside, the garden room appeared to be a cozy shed with thrifted windows and interesting architectural ornaments for walls.
Inside, time bent at odd angles, creating space in unfathomable ways.
Long story short, even if we filled the garden room with a million plants, we’d never run out of room.
However, I’d eventually have to get one of those motorized carts for Cecil, and I shuddered to think what the gnome would do if he ever got a set of wheels.
The mandrake scowled at me the entire way over.
“Dial down the disdain a notch, Meredith.” I lifted the tiny plant up to my face. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know Ida. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”
The plant huffed then flung loose soil at my face.
Not her worst thank you.
I stumbled over to my workstation where I’d hung a framed antique mirror the size of a postcard, and dusted Meredith’s dirt out of my lashes.
The radio was on, tuned to KLXX, and playing “Knock on Wood” by Amii Stewart.
I set the Mictlan mandrake down while I inspected the rest of my face. Her stem wobbled to the beat.
“Cecil?” I called out.
The gnome was nowhere to be seen. He’d been here recently, though, because the humidity levels in the garden room were perfect and water droplets glistened on the soil beneath the rosemary.
Meredith’s pot fit into a small indentation in the dirt so she could extend her roots and draw in nutrients while she breathed in the fresh, invigorating scent of rosemary.
I slid open a dresser drawer beside Cecil’s workstation and inspected the mint.
He’d only planted it a few days ago, and it was already frothing over the wooden lip of the drawer.
Vibrant green runners ran like veins over the sides and top.
We were going to have to watch the bossy little herb to ensure it didn’t try to bully other plants out of their planters.
“Hey, Fennel?”
It was early, so I hadn’t expected the cat to be up and around; he was usually in his bed beneath his namesake until late morning. Now, neither he nor our newly adopted tripod cat Autry were anywhere to be seen.
“Feline of the depths?” I called out tentatively.
It was the name Mary had called him last night and one I was unfamiliar with.
I knew others—servant of Bastet, demon of Bakeneko, kin of Dawon, Death’s accomplice—but feline of the depths was new to me.
The denizens of the underworld feared cats like Fennel, so it made sense that they’d give them creepy names.
I peeked under the lavender planter, behind another dresser with deep drawers where Cecil had planted carrots and garlic, and deeper into the garden room, where we grew the more dangerous plants, including the active ingredient in a specialized version of homesickness tea: demon-grown belladonna.
“Cecil, Fennel, Autry, where are you?”
“How very Scooby Doo of you,” a low, male voice said.
I whirled around and saw Ronan lounging in the doorway, cradling a cup of something steaming. Probably the sleepy tea blend I’d created for him, since he’d be going to bed soon.
Is there anything sexier than a big strong man holding an itty-bitty teacup?
Probably, but none came to mind now.
“Be right there.”
I peered behind, under, around, and inside my partners’ normal hiding spots and found nothing, so I jogged up to Ronan.
“Have you seen my guys?” I remembered Autry and added, “And gal?”
“Only your gal. Dumped a cup of cat food into her bowl in the kitchen while I brewed my tea. She was napping on the sofa when I left. Haven’t seen the boys.”
“This is worrisome. They usually only drop Autry off with me when they’re up to something they think might be dangerous.”
“So what you’re saying is this happens daily.” Ronan wrapped his free arm around me, pulled me close, and dropped a soft kiss on my lips.
“Pretty much,” I said, grabbing another kiss before sliding out of his hold. “It’s just that they usually include me in their shenanigans.”
“So, is this worry or jealousy?”
“It can be both.” I flicked off the radio and gestured to the door. “Come on. Let’s go in the house and you can tell me why you’re home so late.”
“Technically, I’m early,” he said.
“You didn’t come directly home after your shift.”