Rowan groaned, rubbing her head. “Not typically, but if the vampire is already predisposed to be attracted to you, then I can see the magic filtering out to catch them. Why on earth would you wish for something like that?” She looked genuinely confused.

  “I’ve never been the type of woman who attracts others that way…I guess in my drunken haze, I wanted to know what it felt like. And from the little I’ve seen, I can tell you mostly it’s just annoying.” I crossed my legs, leaning back on the sofa. “So, how do I dissuade him, because if Killian finds out about this, on top of what happened the other night, he’ll go after Val with a stake.”

  “What do you mean ‘the other night’?” Rowan asked.

  “Oh, Val came onto me at a restaurant. He was very rude to Killian, very pushy and arrogant, and almost ended up sparking off a fight,” I said. “The guy’s just trouble waiting to happen—Val, that is.”

  “He’s also extremely powerful,” Rowan said. “And Val has a tremendous influence in Moonshadow Bay. There’s no good way to make someone like that back off. And if Killian were to go up against him, even if he won—which is highly unlikely—Slater’s cronies would avenge him.”

  “Crap,” I said, running my head. “What do you recommend I do? I’m not interested in him and I want him to stop.”

  “Maybe you need to have a firm talk with him. Have you told him to back off?” Rowan asked.

  “Kind of. I guess I was afraid he might…well…” I floundered, not wanting to stereotype but damn it, the truth was, I was afraid of Val. “He’s a vampire, for cripes sake. If he gets mad enough, he may just bite me.”

  Rowan started to laugh, but seeing that I was serious, she shook her head and sobered. “Don’t worry about that. Val has plenty of concubines if he gets thirsty. He’s got more than enough women who want him to feed off of them that he’s not going to push you into an unwilling relationship. He’s amoral, but I can vouch for the fact that he won’t try to glamour you into his bed. He may pursue you, but he knows the laws about that.”

  “And you trust him to obey them?” I asked. It was true that Moonshadow Bay had a strict code of conduct for any vampires living within the city limits, and one was against non-consensual influence—a vampire legally couldn’t drink off anybody or fuck them by force, using their strength or their glamour. But there was a fine line, at times, between old-fashioned pressure and magical charm.

  “I trust that he enjoys his position of power within the chamber of commerce, and he’s not likely to endanger that just for a dip in your…paintbox,” Rowan said, her eyes dancing. “Call him—talk to him firmly and set your boundaries and my guess is that he’ll fall in line.”

  I wasn’t as sure as Rowan was, but it was worth a try, and if she was right, it would take care of one problem. Suddenly aware that Killian wasn’t making any noise, I frowned. I padded into the kitchen, looking for him, but all I found was my mocha on the counter, and an empty kitchen.

  where did you go? I texted.

  i’ll be back, i have to take care of something. why didn’t you tell me about the roses?

  Oh crap. He must have overheard us talking. i was going to, but there’s been so much going on. don’t you dare go over to val’s. he’ll annihilate you.

  that’s the chance i have to take. i told you, i don’t share, and i don’t appreciate other men horning in where they are neither wanted nor needed. he’s not out to be your friend, he just wants you in his bed.

  i will talk to him. killian, stop this. you don’t even know where to find him! and the storm’s so bad that you’ll run off the road and hurt yourself. please be sensible and come home.

  There was no answer. I waited for a moment, then, both frustrated and feeling helpless, I grabbed my mocha, took too quick of a sip of the hot liquid and burned my upper lip, and headed back to the living room.

  “Complication. Killian heard me telling Rowan about Val and the roses and he’s off to save me from the big, bad vampire.” I sighed, dropping back into my seat. “What the hell do I do now?”

  Rowan glanced at Teran and they both rolled their eyes. “You call Killian and talk him down off the ledge.”

  “I tried. For all the good it will do. Seriously, men have the biggest egos.”

  “It’s always been about penis size,” Teran said. “Always has been, always will be.”

  I punched in Killian’s number and it rang five times, then went to voice mail. “Call me, you big lug.” I stared at the screen, then called him again. Once more, it went to voice mail, this time after only one ring. “Well, now I get to worry that he’s not only headed over to a vampire’s house to beat him up, but that he’s out there in a storm that’s rapidly getting worse.” I crossed to the window, staring outside. The entire world was white, and it was still snowing so hard that it made it hard to see. It was pure beauty, crystal clear and deadly.

  “So, what should I do?” I asked, still staring out the window.

  “Call Val and ask him to back off,” Teran said. “You know as well as I do, a man’s ego is a delicate thing. Too delicate, but sometimes we tiptoe around it because the collateral damage is too much work to wade through. Just call Val, explain to him, and ask him to send Killian packing without crushing his ego or his windpipe.”

  That seemed almost worse than letting my boyfriend get beat up by a vampire, but Val might not play fair and maybe, just maybe, he’d be receptive to my request.

  I shook my head, pulling out my phone. “You don’t know what it’s taking for me to make this call. I adore Killian, but sometimes he doesn’t make it easy.”

  “Welcome to the challenges of a healthy relationship. While you were with Ellison, you had to give in completely. But being in a stable relationship with someone who isn’t a narcissist doesn’t mean everything is smooth sailing. It just means the bumpy parts are distributed equally rather than all of them running over your back.” Teran shrugged. “It’s your call, but if he barges in there and attacks Val, he may not come out alive.”

  That shifted me into high gear. I flipped through my contacts list till I came to Val’s name.

  He answered on the third ring. “Hello? January, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Nothing. No pleasure.” I paused, backing off the accusatory tone. “Hey, Val, I want to ask something of you.”

  “But you told me to never bother you again,” he said, and I knew he was trying to play cat and mouse, so I ignored the bait.

  “I’m calling to warn you. My boyfriend’s headed your way. He found out you were the one who left me the roses.”

  “Oh, the plot thickens,” Val said. “Do tell!”

  “The only thing I have to tell you is this: Killian’s angry. He’s so angry he won’t stop unless you diffuse this mess and apologize. Please, if you really do like me at all, don’t hurt him. Tell him you’re sorry, and send him back home in one piece. And please, stop bothering me.”

  “One piece? You really think that I’d kill him?” Val asked. “I’m deeply wounded.”

  “Um hmm. You’re about as wounded as my little finger—and trust me, there’s not a scratch on either pinkie. Will you do this for me?” I waited, trying to be patient.

  After a moment, Val let out a sigh, so melodramatic that it could have won a Razzie award. I said nothing, waiting.

  Finally, Val said, “You really care for him, don’t you?”

  It was my turn to pause. How much did I want to open up to Val? Anything he had on me, he could later use for ammunition, and arming him even further was a bad idea. But I had to go out on a limb. There was nothing else I could do.

  “Yeah, I do. Please, tell him—”

  “That I promise not to bother you again and that I apologize? Oh, January, the favors are really stacking up.” He waited for another moment, then finally said, “All right. I’ll preserve your boyfriend, and your relationship. But girl, you owe me.”

  I didn’t bother trying to dispute that. I just thanked him and hung up, relieved. When I told Rowan and Teran what had happened, Teran looked surprised but Rowan just nodded.

  “I told you that underneath that sleazy exterior, Val’s got…well, maybe not a good heart, but he’s not always willing to play the villain. So, now that you’ve put out that fire, I will tell you that it’s unlikely Val was any more than lightly influenced. It would take more than a simple wishcraft ritual to have him beating down your doorstep. No, Val’s responsible for what he chooses to do,” Rowan said, then paused.

  After a moment, she added, “I’ll also tell you something else that may help. You can tell Killian this. Val Slater’s responsible for the low-income daycare in the community center. He also established a scholarship for young writers who are looking to get into college but can’t afford the tuition. He established the no-kill Forever Home pet rescue shelter. And a dozen other organizations like that. He doesn’t take the credit because he doesn’t want his reputation to be…well, not tarnished but…”

  “Haloed? Would that be the opposite of tarnished?” my aunt asked.

  “Sounds good to me,” I said. “I had no clue that Val was so philanthropical.”

  “You’d be surprised by the number of vampires who contribute to organizations that make life easier for the living.” Rowan shrugged. “As far as the rest of the men attracted to you, well, as you know, wishcraft rituals aren’t easily undone. You’ll have to cope with the aftermath.”

  I nodded, thinking about what she had said. No doubt that Val Slater was a sleaze, but apparently, he was also someone who at least nominally cared about his community. Even if he only contributed to puff up his reputation, sometimes the ends did justify the means.

  “Val said that I owe him. That makes me nervous,” I said. “But given all he has already done, what with Stellarview, I suppose I do owe him a favor.”

  “Don’t let him push you into anything that makes you uncomfortable,” Rowan said. “He may not be the big bad wolf, but he will press for every advantage. He just likes to win.”

  With that in mind, I let out a sigh and leaned back in my seat. “Now to just figure out what the hell to do about the Spit & Whistle.” I glanced up at the ceiling and lowered my voice. “I’m going to have to talk to Clarence van Nostram, I think.”

  “That’s going to be difficult,” Rowan said. “While I was able to get hold of him by phone, he’s not going to want to make many appearances in public.”

  Teran glanced at her. “Did he really leave the Covenant of Chaos?”

  “Yeah, he did. And I think he’s living in fear, now. Once you leave organizations like that…”

  “You put your life on the line,” Teran finished. “I know. Clarence was an arrogant asshole when the historical society forced him to repair the building, and from what you say, January, he only did so superficially. We could go in and require the current owner to return it to the original state, but take him to court for the costs.”

  “I don’t think Louise would have a problem with restoring it to the original state, but right now, it’s too dangerous. I need a good medium, and probably an exorcist.”

  “You’re the medium,” Rowan said.

  Teran gave her a quick look, and I thought she was going to say something, but then she closed her lips and remained silent.

  “Me? I’ve never talked to the dead. Well, except for Esmara.” Somehow, in my head, even though the Ladies were all dead, that didn’t count as talking to spirits.

  “You’re a natural-born medium. Your aunt knows it, I can see it. You just haven’t ever really paid attention. Or maybe…” Rowan paused. “Maybe you’ve shied away from it out of fear. Tell me, have you ever been to a funeral?” She quickly amended that. “Besides your parents’ ceremonies?”

  “Only a couple, in Seattle. Ellison knew a lot of older business-types. Two of them died and we were required to attend. Or rather, Ellison pushed it. He said it wouldn’t look right if I didn’t go with him, even though I didn’t even know either man.”

  “Did you notice anything unusual when you went?”

  I frowned, then nodded. “Actually, yes. When I think back on it, both times there were men there who seemed agitated. Well, a man. One at each—oh,” I said, suddenly understanding. “So that’s why nobody else paid any attention to their attention-seeking antics.”

  One of the men had stood behind the minister and waved at the audience. I hadn’t said anything because the minister hadn’t seemed bothered by it and I thought perhaps it was part of the funerary rites. The second funeral, another man had frantically been talking to the widow, but she had stalwartly ignored him till finally, looking dejected, he had stalked out of the room, shoulders slumping and staring at the floor.

  “The men I saw were dead?” I asked, explaining what had happened.

  “Right,” Teran said. “I wish your magic hadn’t manifested in this manner, but I think Rowan’s correct. I don’t think you would have found the job with Conjure Ink if you hadn’t been meant to, and I think that means you really need to develop your abilities in mediumship.”

  I stared at both of them, thinking about the ramifications. Being a medium wasn’t an easy job. It basically meant reaching out to spirits and helping them when I could, and it also meant that the more I worked on developing my abilities, the more I’d probably encounter the dead—and that was hardly my idea of fun. I preferred to spend my time among the living. But I also knew Rowan was right. When she said it, an alarm went off.

  “Crap,” I said. “I really don’t want my life to take this direction, but there’s not much I can do about it. All right, suppose I am meant to be a medium? What do I do next?”

  “You work with your crystal ball, your tarot cards, your runes, you go hang out in graveyards—not alone, take Ari with you—and start opening yourself up to seeing the spirit world around you. We’re constantly surrounded by spirits, but even those who are psychic only see a fraction of the spirit world. It’s a rich and varied tapestry among the threads that make up this universe, and you’d better learn how to navigate it before your powers open on their own and knock you for a loop.” Rowan turned to Teran. “January needs a guide. You work more with herbal magic, don’t you?”

  Teran nodded. “I’m a kitchen witch. You remember that Althea was the one who inherited the type of magic we’re talking about. But she’s gone, and Esmara can only go so far in helping. What kind of magic does Ari use?” she asked, turning to me.

  I blinked, trying to think back. Ari had always had a knack for manifesting things. “I think…earth-oriented magic? She can manifest—she’s always able to conjure up stuff. I mean, if she needs money, she’ll cast a spell and within hours, something shifts and the cash flows in.”

  Witches—and witchblood families—had specializations. Not all magic was snap-your-fingers quick or noticeable. That said, some witches could instantly produce results. All they’d have to do would be to whisper an incantation and boom, flames would shoot up, or the earth would shift, or a vortex would appear. Those witches were few and far between, but they did exist and they tended to keep to themselves.

  “You’ve never been tested? Your parents should have had you tested,” Rowan said.

  I shook my head. “I left home when I was barely eighteen, and that’s when most testing starts. I left for college early. I figured I’d take the tests when I returned home, but…”

  “But it never happened,” Teran said. “I warned your mother to get it done, but she wanted to let you decide when and where to be assessed.”

  “Is it too late?” I asked. “I know most witches are eighteen when they go to the Aseer, but is there anything that says it’s too late for me to find out?”

  Rowan shook her head. “No, and I think that would be a good idea. I tell you what, I’m friends with the Aseer here in Moonshadow Bay, so I’ll give her a call. And I’ll give Clarence a call and then let you know what they both say. Meanwhile, keep the owner of the Spit & Whistle from making any rash decisions.” She stood. “I’ll be in touch with you later today.”

  As she headed for the door, I followed behind her. “Are you sure you’re good to go? This weather’s terrible.”

  “You need a ride home?” Teran asked.

  Rowan shook her head. “No, I’ll walk. This weather’s no more bothersome to me as sunshine.” True to her word, she slid on a warm jacket, but no gloves or hat, and headed out into the still-raging storm.

  As I shut the door and turned back to Teran, she said, “How much do you know about Rowan?”

  I shrugged. “Mostly what I’ve seen of her and what little you and Tad told me.”

  “What’s your basic feeling about her?”

  I thought for a moment. “I feel like I need to be wary because of her involvement in the vampire community, but…honestly? I like her. I like how direct she is. I feel like I’ve known her longer than I have. Why?”

  Teran sobered. “Now that you’re becoming more involved with her, I need to tell you something. Eventually, you would find out and Rowan and I talked it over. She agreed with me.”

  This was sounding ominous.

  “You know that she knew Great-grandpa Brian? That she helped him and Colleen to found Moonshadow Bay?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

  “So she’s old. She’s older than most of us who live here, with the exception of a few shifters and vampires. Witchblood is strong. But even among those of us born to the magic, there are varying strains of it. Some—like your mother’s and my line—are fairly strong and unless there’s an accident, we live a long, healthy life to around 150, 160. But some strains of witchblood are far more long-lived and resilient. They go back a long ways. Rowan is from one of those ancient families, and she can trace her lineage back to the Merlin.”