Chapter Five

  Hallowed Homes Realty was the number one place in Haven Hollow for people (mundanes or supernaturals) looking for a home that suited their needs. Even if their needs ran more along ‘cemetery with consecrated ground and a crypt’ than ‘would really like a third bathroom’.

  When I’d moved to town, the real estate market had been run by Ophelia, the Night Hag’s, iron fist, and she’d been very particular about who she let live in the town. She hadn’t liked humans at all, but I’d had magic at least, so she’d allowed me buy my old farm house. She’d also run the council at the time.

  Then she’d made the very poor decision to try and kill Wanda, and ended up a statue out on Wanda’s front lawn. Of course, that hadn’t been a magical mishap, but it had been a very deliberate choice on Wanda’s part. Apparently, she was into Night Hag lawn art. Who knew?

  Ever since that day, Fifi had taken over as premier realtor in town, and she was doing amazing things with Hallowed Homes. Even the offices themselves were different: no longer the cold, stagnant, austere building with uncomfortable chairs. Instead, it was a gorgeously decorated office space with potted plants, and a little waterfall fountain, and leather conference room chairs that sighed and molded around a person.

  As a supernatural meeting space with lots of room to sit and a big table, Fifi graciously let the Haven Hollow council host many of our meetings at Hallowed Homes. The Half-Moon Bar and Grill up the road from my shop was the other popular spot, since Roy owned it, but it was a restaurant that catered to humans too, and sometimes it could be tricky making sure no one overheard something they shouldn’t.

  I settled into my chair and sat back to wait for the others to arrive for the council meeting, and checked my phone. I had a text from Finn to tell me that he’d gotten to Marty’s safely, and that he and RJ and Henner were planning a night of video games. I slipped my cell back in my pocket with a soft smile. Marty was the first friend I’d made in Haven Hollow, and one of the best friends I’d ever had. That was why I’d gone along with it when he’d asked me out, thinking that maybe my love for my friend could turn into something a bit more passionate.

  And at the beginning, I had felt something for Marty that I’d thought was romance. I’d been attracted to him and I’d thought maybe we could have a future together, but soon those feeling had switched—they’d changed to simple platonic feelings and I’d never been able to get any semblance of romantic feelings for him again.

  The truth of the matter was that I’d let things between us go on for way too long, afraid I didn’t know my own heart. But, in the end, I’d just ended up hurting him, and for a while, I’d thought he’d never forgive me. But things were slowly getting better between us, and we were finally able to smile at one another in passing (before we wouldn’t even be ‘in passing’ because I was fairly convinced he’d been doing everything in his power to avoid me). We still weren’t to the point of hanging out and maybe we never would be again, but I hoped one day we could. Of course, it only further complicated matters that I was now with Andre, and very publicly at that. It was my absolute hope that Marty would find his special person soon—someone who could love him in the same way he loved them. It really meant the world to me that he’d kept up his friendship with Finn—that showed just what a great man Marty was, even if he wasn’t the man for me.

  Fifi was bustling around, setting out coffee and cream in the middle of the conference table, looking amazing in her black pencil skirt and red silk blouse. With her centerfold figure and her long, platinum hair pulled up into a bun, it would have been easy to be a bit self-conscious around Fifi, but she was just so nice, that it made it impossible.

  Roy stomped in a few minutes later, clearly still in a bad mood from the scowl on his face. He ducked to get through the conference room door, growling something that sounded a lot like ‘damned witches’, but I couldn’t be sure. The second he caught sight of Fifi, though, his shoulders softened, the harsh lines of his frown eased up, and he bent down far enough to give her a small kiss. And I was happy to report that there was no part of me that felt in the least bit jealous or uncomfortable. Actually, I felt the opposite—more than happy that they’d found each other, even if seeing them did make me yearn for my own man.

  My own man.

  Even the words still seemed foreign in my head, and I couldn’t help the way a smile stole my lips as soon as an image of Andre shaped itself in my head. Maybe Wanda was right, and I needed to stop waiting and jump his bones the second I got the chance?

  I fought back a sigh and the burning desire that alighted within me whenever I pictured Andre’s face or imagined his deep voice. He’d be home in a few more days and then I could hold him and kiss him and maybe do more with him.

  I swallowed hard at that thought.

  Not long after Roy walked in, Police Chief Taliyah Morgan entered, and since it was only supernaturals present, she didn’t bother keeping up the glamour that made her look human. Taliyah was also Princess Olwen of the Winter court of Faerie, but it was better not to use that name around her. She’d only recently found out about her heritage, and she was still adjusting to it all.

  Taliyah’s fae nature made sure that she was flawlessly gorgeous as she came into the room, pale skin, frost white hair, ever so slightly pointed ears, with every mark or wrinkle she’d earned over a human lifetime wiped away like they had never been. It didn’t hide the dark bruises under her eyes, though. She looked tired.

  Fifi’s brother, Angelo, showed up next, looking devastating in his black suit and red shirt with no tie. He flashed his killer smile around the room before taking a seat, and I really hoped he was here to help get things done, and not to just be a general nuisance to Fifi like he usually was. Of course, I did have to admit that ever since Lydia had entered his life, he’d shown a side of himself no one had ever thought he had—a potentially caring side. Now, I didn’t know anything about the two of them or if something was going on between them or not, so I could have been making the whole thing up, but I was fairly sure there was something different about Angelo and I had a mind that Lydia had everything to do with it.

  Wanda showed up about fifteen minutes later, strutting through the door like a runway model, a to-go coffee cup in her hand. Fifi had just finished work, so I got why she was all dolled up. But Wanda had probably just rolled out of bed, so her maroon sweater dress with black leather boots was probably meant more as a statement. I didn’t miss the scowl she sent in Roy’s direction and neither did he.

  Lorcan stepped into the room after her, nodding to everyone gathered, his blonde hair looking a bit windswept for some reason. Wanda took the seat next to mine, with Lorcan on the other side, while Roy glowered in their general direction.

  I slumped down into my seat, because I could already tell the meeting wasn’t going to go well. Officially, we’d all come together to discuss the huge amounts of turnover in residents the town was seeing. Hollows were supposed to be safe places, where all the political problems of the greater world were left at the door, and the magical people who wanted to live in peace next to their human neighbors could do just that. Unfortunately, Haven Hollow hadn’t exactly been living up to those ideals lately.

  In fact, ever since I’d moved to town, it seemed like it had just been one thing after another. Faeries kidnapping kids, serial killers who traveled through mirrors, fights between covens, civil wars in Winter, vengeful furies, and murderous vampires. And with things heating up between the witches and the vampires again, it was starting to look like there might be another Blood War on the horizon—something we needed like a hole in the head. The gist of the matter was that no one felt like Haven Hollow was the safe place it was meant to be.

  So, they were leaving in droves, heading for new Hollows that were being formed around the country. Even humans (who had no idea about the supernatural) were moving away from Haven Hollow, looking for more peaceful places.

  The whole situation meant that the council was getting a lot of petitions from supernaturals wanting to move to Haven Hollow, since there was now obviously space for them. The trouble was sorting through those petitions and weeding out those who wouldn’t have been approved for other Hollows, due to their more colorful pasts. The last thing we wanted was a bunch of misfit miscreants with magic. Wow, that was a lot of Ms.

  It felt like sorting through a lot of resumes, trying to see who would be a good fit, or who wouldn’t clash with the people already living in town, or at least who wouldn’t probably kick off the next disaster. After a couple hours of debating and bickering really, everyone was tired and cranky, and the tension just kept winding tighter and tighter until I wanted to run out of the room.

  It finally came to a head when Wanda negligently tossed an application back onto the table, letting it drift back and forth before sliding halfway towards the ‘no’ pile.

  “Pass,” she said, taking a sip of her probably cold latte. “I’ve met her. I wouldn’t let her onto my lawn, never mind into my coven.”

  Roy slammed the paper he’d been reading down onto the table, his jaw clenched so tightly, I could see the muscles jumping. “Wanda, do you think you could take something seriously for once?”

  Everything went still then. I could hear Fifi’s surprised little inhale from the head of the table. Wanda, meanwhile, took an obnoxiously long slurp from her drink. There was a dangerous gleam in her eyes that made the back of my neck prickle. Lorcan had the copy of that dangerous look and when he cleared his throat and leaned forward, clearly ready to battle with Roy, Wanda placed a hand on his and shook her head. Then she faced Roy with a smile that could have killed.

  “Please, Roy,” she said way, way too pleasantly. “What exactly am I not taking seriously?”

  Paper crinkled as the sheet in Roy’s hands started to tear before he let it go. “This is actually serious. It’s important for the safety of the town. It’s not about you getting to swipe left on someone just because you don’t like their clothes.”

  “When did I say I didn’t like her... clothing?” she asked, eyes narrowing. Wanda didn’t scream. Instead, she got this look on her face that was far scarier. “But now that you mention it—yes—cotton and polyester blend, that’s the reason I want her banned.” Wanda smiled, but the skin around her eyes was tight.

  “You know what I mean,” Roy growled.

  She shook her head. “My voting Dierdre Recktish out definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that she failed to mention that she’d been kicked out of three covens already for seriously injuring people she decided were her rivals. But let’s talk about fashion instead.”

  That at least took a bit of the wind out of Roy’s sails, but he swiped a hand back through his close-cropped dark hair and pushed on. “I’m just saying, this is the worst possible time for little magical pranks like turning bushes into gold—or other things that might attract attention from the mundanes. If we can’t keep the supernatural under wraps here, do you think people are going to want to live in Haven Hollow? The whole town will collapse if it doesn’t have residents. The whole Hollow might be at risk.”

  Technically, the speech was for the entire table, but even I noticed that it seemed to be mostly aimed in Wanda’s direction. From the way her purple tipped fingers curled into her hands, she’d noticed it too.

  “As I already told you,” she said through her teeth, her smile now more of a snarl. “It wasn’t me who turned the bush into gold. Nor was it any of my friends, or anyone in the coven. So lay off, Roy, and try being grateful for your very expensive houseplant.”

  Roy scowled at her, his heavy brows pulling down until they almost touched over the bridge of his nose. “And if it were you or one of your own who did it? Am I supposed to believe that you’d out yourself? Or any of your coven would?”

  “Listen, you unmagical lumberjack,” Wanda snarled, leaning forward.

  “Um, actually…” I had to fight not to raise my hand like I was back in middle school or something. “I think I might... well, possibly... I don’t know actually, but... well, maybe I might possibly know what caused it.”

  “Start ‘splainin’, Lucy,” Wanda said, giving me a pointed eyebrow.

  There were a lot of eyes on me all of a sudden and none of them were very happy.

  I took a deep breath. “Well, a couple of weeks ago, I made a potion called Gypsy Gold. And, well, it’s kind of a flashy, showy potion, that doesn’t have much of a use, really. It’s actually just used for impressing people, honestly.”

  “What does it do?” Roy growled.

  “Don’t you dare growl at Poppy!” Wanda yelled at him, narrowing her eyes. “Unless you’d really like to see some witch magic in action.”

  “I apologize, Poppy,” Roy said, not bothering to acknowledge Wanda at all. “Please go on.”

  I felt myself sliding further down the seat. “What does it do?” I repeated his question, feeling like my stomach was now in my feet. “Well, that’s the, uh, the interesting part.” Then I let out this strange laugh and Wanda gave me a look that told me to get ahold of myself. “It... well, it turns whatever it’s applied to into... well, into Fool’s Gold—not real gold, of course. And it only turns objects into Fool’s Gold only for an hour or so. Not like... well, not like anything longer than that.” I finished with that weird little laugh again.

  Roy scowled. “And you’re just bringing this up now?”

  I lifted my hands and shrugged. “Well, I honestly don’t think the two situations are anything but a coincidence. I mean—there’s no way Gypsy Gold could do what’s happened to the bush.”

  “Turn it to gold?” Roy said, frowning even more deeply.

  “Yes, it couldn’t. I mean—I only made one bottle! And one bottle isn’t nearly enough to cover an entire bush! And not only that, but I gave the one bottle I made to Andre when he left town for his show.”

  “Then you don’t even have it any longer?” Roy asked.

  I shook my head. “No! Andre has it and he’s in Portland and has been for weeks!”

  “Could someone else have gotten their hands on the recipe?” Roy asked.

  I shook my head again. “There’s literally no way that could have happened, unless the person was invisible and took notes while I was making it. Not only that, but Gypsy Gold is only good for an hour at the most!”

  Angelo frowned up at the ceiling from where he was half reclined into his chair. “Don’t you have a kid?”

  I frowned at him, fighting the urge to remind him that he very well knew Finn’s name. “Yes,” I said and none too friendly, not appreciating him trying to involve Finn in this.

  “Could he have taken the potion and painted the bush with it?” Angelo continued, sounding bored. “That sounds like something a kid would want to do.”

  “Paint a bush?” Wanda asked, scowling at the demon. “Clearly, you don’t know any kids and you obviously don’t know Finn.”

  “Then he wouldn’t want to paint the bush?” Angelo asked, as if he wanted to be sure he understood her.

  “No! He’s fourteen, you lout!” Wanda answered.

  “Finn isn’t interested in potions,” Lorcan continued, as Wanda continued shaking her head like everyone else in the room was an idiot.

  “Like Lorcan said, Finn isn’t interested in potions and nor does he know how to make them,” I added as I looked around the room, wanting everyone to keep Finn out of this.

  “So—” Roy started, but one look shut him up.

  “I asked him if he’d touched any of my brewing equipment and he said ‘no’.”

  “The gold bush wasn’t caused by Poppy’s potion or by Finn,” Wanda continued, glaring at anyone who dared to look at her. “That potion is currently with Mr. Darcy in Portland and the effects only last an hour. Now let’s move on and stop putting this on Poppy. The poor thing already looks like she’s going to pass out from all the stress you’re putting on her.” Then her attention settled on Roy.

  “I apologize if we’re stressing you out, Poppy,” Roy amended.

  “It’s okay,” I managed with a small sigh as I then smiled to Wanda who just nodded at me in a way that told me ‘I’ve got your back.’

  “You said your potion only turns things to gold for an hour?” Taliyah had her police look on. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she turned the facts over in her head, looking at them from every angle.

  “Right. Plus or minus maybe ten minutes.”

  She faced Roy. “That bush has been gold for hours now.”

  “Gold is still gold,” Roy grumbled.

  “Haven’t we been over this?” Wanda muttered.

  “Well, that’s the other thing,” I pointed out. “My potion isn’t actually real gold. It’s pyrite—fool’s gold, not real at all.”

  “And that bush is real gold,” Taliyah continued.

  Roy nodded. “I can bend the stuff with my fingers. Whatever turned it, it’s not some party trick. It’s real magic—not a potion.”

  “Right.” I chewed my lower lip thinking.

  “So, it isn’t exactly the same thing,” Angelo answered on a shrug. “But it’s kind of too much of a coincidence that Poppy literally just brewed the potion and then this bush shows up?”

  Wanda looked at him, frowning. “Didn’t we vote you off the council? What are you still doing here?”

  “He got voted back in after the good deed he did for Lydia,” Roy answered, absently waving Wanda’s question away.

  “Right. What he said,” Angelo answered, sounding very haughty.

  Taliyah tapped her stack of papers against the table, looking thoroughly done with everything. “A gold bush is the least of my concerns at the moment. There’s enough going on in this town that I don’t even want to waste my time with this. Especially when I’m dealing with a rash of petty thefts all over town.”

  “Thefts?” I repeated.

  “What’s been stolen?” Lorcan asked.

  Taliyah shrugged. “We’ve been getting calls for all kinds of stuff that’s gone missing—jewelry, dishes, Christmas ornaments. And that’s just the most recent stuff that’s gone missing in the last few hours.”