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Witches of the West - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) Page 10
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She had to think about others here, too, though. Ethel and Barn. The Council of Elders would kill them if Paige couldn’t figure out how to keep them necessary.
Fuck.
Shit.
Damn it.
Leslie pulled up in front of an empty shop window in downtown Troutdale. She leaned forward to take a look at it. Sitting back, she looked at her phone, nodding once before she got out.
How was she able to just take an address and magickally make it to her destination without the assistance of Lola or Google Maps? Paige got out and stood on the sidewalk.
On one side was a used clothes shop and on the other side a coffee shop. Pretty good-sized storefront window. A wood and glass door. “Not a bad location.”
It wasn’t. The downtown strip? Paige could see the metal arch sign at the end of town proclaiming it to be the entrance to the gorge. She’d probably have to check that out one day.
Leslie nodded as she stepped onto the sidewalk, craning her neck forward to see inside.
Chuck stepped up to the window and waved them inside.
Leslie gave a trill of excitement and opened the door. A brass bell dinged overhead.
Paige looked around the large, open space. This was a serious investment. Leslie would need shelves and—she didn’t even know. Other stuff. And Leslie was just going to sell soap here?
Leslie looked around, her business face on. “The rent’s what we discussed?”
Chuck nodded, ducking his head and watching her through his long eyelashes.
Paige watched him openly, but without malice. Was he a good guy? She’d given him so many chances to show himself and each time he’d proven to be a pretty decent human being. So, maybe.
And he was the one alpha that didn’t make her want to tear his head off.
And…she had to remember, he’d been the one who’d come up with a way to keep Ethel and Barn safe.
If she could believe what he said.
But…his words had felt like truth.
Well, she could only go off of what she saw and she didn’t see anything bad. So. Paige sighed and turned, taking in the empty store. She’d already enrolled her kids into his school—an amazing school, by the way. Tru had already accepted their help with the house. Leslie was in the process of accepting his help with the store—as a reasonable business deal.
Maybe Paige could hear him out on his offer of a police department.
“I’ll take it,” Leslie said. “When can I start moving things in?”
“Today, if you want.” He pulled a thick envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to her. “You’ll want to read over the lease.”
“I will.”
“Then, I look forward to hearing from you.”
The corner of Leslie’s mouth rose as she clasped the envelope in a white-knuckle grip and looked around.
“Must have been some business plan.” Paige watched Chuck head toward the door.
“I’ve been planning this for years, Pea. So, yeah.”
The door dinged.
Paige’s heart hammered. She swallowed the rising bile in her throat. “Chuck.”
He paused and turned toward her.
The words froze in her chest, but her legs propelled her forward. The idea of working in an organization that wasn’t a real organization, led by her when she barely knew what the fuck she was doing, and being owned by a man she barely knew terrified the shit out of her.
He raised his chin, his eyelids lowered.
She stopped, waiting for the words to just come, but they refused. Taking in a deep breath, she forced the words out. “What did you have in mind?”
His expression was guarded. “For the shop?”
“For me.”
“Oh.” He straightened. She hadn’t even realized he’d been slouching. The corners of his lips curled upward slightly. He looked at her, his mouth open, faced away, then looked at her again. “Care to walk with me?”
Paige turned to Leslie.
Who waved her off. “I’m good. I’ll be here for a while. You go. Do your thing.”
Licking her lips, Paige turned back to Chuck, trying to calm her nerves. What if the real reason she’d been saying no so vehemently—how was that word pronounced? For real?—was because the offer of running her own department terrified the living shit out of her? “Ready when you are.”
He led her down the street, then turned right, heading toward the mountain edge of town. Before long, they were greeted by a tall chain-link fence surrounding a lone building.
It looked like it’d been an old municipal building.
“The city of Troutdale took the building back over a few months ago. We’ve been renovating it ever since.”
“The town of Troutdale?” Paige looked up at him. “How much pull do you have? I thought you were the regional alpha in Texas.”
“I was. For about two years, but before that, I was here.”
“What?”
He turned toward her. “Merry Eastwood and Eldora Blackman ran me out of town. Trumped up murder charges against me.”
Awesome.
“I cleared my name. Eventually.”
“And you went to Dallas because?”
“Because of your family, of course.”
Paige sighed. “Of course. To get us out here?”
Chuck licked his lips and scanned the surrounding area with his gaze. “To bring this area back into balance.”
“Was it ever in balance?”
He lifted one shoulder, then turned to unlock the padlock. “The town would like to set this up as a task force headquarters for the paranormal community.”
“The humans know about this?”
“Some.”
“And the Council of Elders,” she drawled out the name because it still sounded absolutely ludicrous to her, “is okay with that?”
“The Shadow Sisterhood is watching them closely.”
That was the second time in a very short period that that name had come up. “What is the sisterhood?”
“I’ve already told you.”
“Yeah, but—” She’d ask again later. She needed to know more. How would she have to interact with them? Who were they? “So, who are the ‘some’ that know?”
Chuck lifted the chain link gate and swung it open. “The local police.”
“And what do they have to say?” She walked through the gate and surveyed the weed-ridden parking lot.
“They’re not pleased. Well, not all of them, anyway. You’d have a budget you’d have to maintain, of course. Town funds. They’d be audited yearly.”
“Budgets.” Without her prior boss, Henry, to help? She was probably going to fail.
“I have an accountant who will check in with you periodically. You have a slight stash of funds for start-up.”
She pulled open the front double doors and stepped inside. The building was huge. “How many people do you think I’m going to have on staff?”
“At first? Five. Six, maybe. We could outfit a holding area.”
“That would be kind of important.” And it would have to be set up for paranormals. That would be important, too. Like, which paranormals could be inadvertently hurt by what? She had a lot to learn.
“There’s a room at the back for a lab. Ethel actually gave me her specifications weeks ago, so that’s actually going fairly well. We’re a little behind schedule, but her equipment should arrive within a few weeks.”
“Weeks.” Paige ground her teeth. It sure felt like she was being played. Even though, she probably wasn’t. Not really. He’d been more…trying to lead her to the trough.
She wasn’t a fucking horse, though.
“What kind of timeframe are we looking at?” she heard herself ask.
He shrugged. “We could get phones working in here within a day or two. Furniture by tomorrow. It’s just waiting in storage.
Well planned. She sighed.
“We’ve needed this for a very long time.”
“Then, why haven’t you done it before now? Why did you wait for me to arrive?”
He turned to her. His blue eyes shone with genuine emotion. His body language. His tone as he spoke. “Because no one could unite them before you.”
“And I can how?”
“The spirits chose you.”
Paige swallowed.
“The first witch in the history of the known world. The spirits chose you, and they did so for a reason.”
She stared at the overwhelmingly empty room and pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “I’m gonna need to see those budgets.”
Chuck smiled, his shoulders sagging as he ducked his head. “They’ll be yours in a matter of minutes.”
It took a couple of days to make it through the budgets and the arrangements to get everything into to the…she didn’t even know what to call it. Chuck had been pretty good with the planning, but had left that part up to her.
Joy.
They could always pull a Wynonna Earp and just call it the Black Badge Division.
That…wasn’t a terrible idea, actually.
But without ripping them off? The Orange Badge Division? The Gold Star Division?
This was stupid. No. She needed a real name for her team. Something that sounded official, yet mysterious without tipping off non-knowers about the paranormal society.
She sucked at names.
Ethel sighed, dropping her notebook in her lap. She rested her elbow on the wooden desk beside her and gave Paige frustrated look.
Paige pressed her fingernails into her brow, then flicked them away. “What?”
“You’re seriously overthinking things.”
“Really,” Paige said with frustration. Ethel had come into town two days before and had jumped head first into helping Paige set up. They hadn’t made it very far.
“Yeah. Like always.” Ethel’d died the tips of her strawberry blonde hair blue. She somehow managed to pull off a look of professional punk.
They might have furniture, but the big building was still awfully empty. It was hard for Paige to give the place a name without people in it.
“Section 8,” Ethel said, flopping her hands into her lap.
“That’s housing assistance.”
“Okay. Then…” Ethel sighed. “Division 4. The 4th Division. The Fourth.”
“What’s up with the fourth?” Paige frowned, but it didn’t sound half bad.
“Look at shape shifting from a purely scientific experience.” Ethel sat in her black desk chair Indian style—though why it was still called that?—and leaned forward. “Mass disappropriation.”
“Is that even a word?”
“It’s a theory, for sure. Big humans shifting into smaller animals. Smaller humans shifting into bigger animals.”
Paige narrowed her eyes. “I’m not a sciency geek, Eth.”
Ethel rolled her eyes, very mature. “Fourth dimension. That’s the only thing that even makes sense.”
It wasn’t making any sense. “What is the fourth dimension?”
“To a non-sciency geek?”
Like she had to ask. “Yeah.”
Ethel smiled and sat back. “The obvious solution.”
“You’re such a jerk.” Paige groaned at her blank sheet of paper.
“I know.” She bounced her knees with a smile.
Paige tapped her pencil on her notebook. “The Fourth, huh?”
“Or we could go with, you know…” She gestured with her hand. “Witchwood.”
“Right.” Which sounded good. Like, it should be a TV series or something, but it wasn’t great as a code name. “That would be awesome.”
Ethel shook her head at Paige, her lips quirked. “Division.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s a fiction thing.”
“We are a fiction thing, hon.”
“We still need to sound official.” And they’d need badges to flash. Oh, crap. “Badges.” Official crime scenes. How were they going to make this official?
“Trust me.” Ethel batted her fake eyelashes at Paige. “You leave that to me.”
Finally, one thing she could give to someone else. Paige was in way over her head. “Just don’t get us arrested. Okay?”
“I make no promises.”
Dexx walked through the double front doors, a drink tray in hand. “It’s handy having the coffee shop right around the corner.”
Yes. Yes it was.
He handed her a warm paper cup. “Tell me again that there won’t be a ton of paperwork.”
That had been his one condition for signing up. Paige nodded. “Any paperwork, I will do for you.” She met his green gaze and held it. “But I can’t do this without you.”
He tipped his head to the side, a gooshy smile on his lips, and curtsied. “You make me feel all warm and squishy.”
Ethel made gagging sounds. “Give me my coffee.”
Dexx set the tray down on the desk. “Who’s scheduled for interviews today?”
“Quite a few, actually.” Once word had gotten out that they were looking for people to join the ranks of a paranormal police force, the applications poured in.
The rest of the day flew by pretty quickly after that because the applicants started showing up.
Peter Jones. An Ikaki who wanted a new start in life as someone stronger than his kind were known to be. Ikaki were water elementals who took the form of tortoises when they touched water. Not super helpful on land. And the guy was twitchy. Super twitchy.
Maude Hurt. A lightning serpent. Now, she was on the list of potentials, if they got big enough to warrant it, but Maude had a bit of an attitude problem. She lacked the kind of restraint they were gonna need in order to remain under the radar. If they were lucky enough to even get started off the ground.
Chan Lynn. A chameleon. He could morph himself to blend in—clothes, hair, eye-color. The only thing that stayed the same was his physique and his face. That really could be an asset. You know, for undercover type stuff. Which Paige hoped they wouldn’t get a lot of. She still put him on the list of potentials if and when they ever grew.
Joel Furse. A tokebi, or a goblin. There were many reasons why he would never make the team. Bad body odor. Horrible teeth. One of his front teeth held his upper lip in a permanent snarl.
Sandie Musburger. Unfortunate name. A Yara-ma-yha-who. Try saying that three times real fast. Or once. Slow. Her dirt-blonde hair was thin and splotchy, her skin ashy. And she fed from suckers in her hand that drained the blood from her victims. The woman looked like she had a good case against her. She even brought the names of her “supposed” victims to the interview so they wouldn’t have to investigate her on their own. How nice of her.
Quinn Winters, however, was the turning point of the day. A siren. The siren, actually. Tyler’s new teacher. Petite. She looked like she could have been of Asian descent. Sharp cheekbones. Bright, green eyes. Long, straight black hair.
And a voice that melted Paige’s bones.
“Skeletons?” She raised a dark eyebrow with a sultry smile. “No. None.”
Paige swallowed hard, trying to contain the tingle running through her entire body, waking her womanly regions. “Really?”
Dexx shifted in his chair, glancing at Paige with an almost desperation.
“What job skills would you bring as a siren?” Paige asked, refusing to adjust in her own chair. She wanted to. Her pants were a little too tight for this kind of throb.
Quinn narrowed her green eyes. “I believe you’re seeing one of them.”
She could make people sexually aroused with her voice. “Is there any way to turn that down?”
“Of course.”
The sexual tension ripping through Paige lessoned to a pulsing throb with those two words. Bless the Mother.
“I am also able to do much more with my voice.” Quinn folded her fingers in front of her. “It can be used as a weapon. I can invoke thoughts, direct people.”
“To their deaths?” Paige wasn’t just intervi
ewing this woman for a position on her team. She was interviewing her nephew’s teacher.
“Yes.” Quinn tipped her head to the side and smiled. “But only when they really, really earn it. Otherwise, I just tell them to go away, lick their elbow, or run after cars. I find that much more entertaining than killing them.”
“Are you tied to water?”
“Uh, no. You’re thinking rusalka, I think.” Quinn shook her head. “We’re not water elementals.”
“Oh.” Then why was she picturing a siren as a mermaid? Paige wasn’t going to ask that question out loud.
“Anything in your past,” Ethel asked, still calm and collected even through the onslaught of Quinn’s voice, “that we should know about?”
Licking her lips, Quinn paused. “There was a boy. I—” She shook her head and took in a deep breath. “I put him in a mental hospital.”
Paige frowned.
“My abilities were just coming and I didn’t know what was going on. I was adopted and my parents were human. None of us realized I wasn’t. I got mad at this boy and I shoved my voice at him.”
That could be a good lesson to teach Tyler. “What happened?”
Quinn grimaced. “I broke his brain’s ability to fire correctly. He had to go through a great deal of therapy to retrain his brain.” She bowed her head. “He will never be the same again.”
“Shit.” And that’s the woman that was going to teach her nephew.
“Yeah.” She shrugged deeply, her gaze earnest. “I learned after that and I’ve never lost control like that again. I’ve never hurt anyone.”
“Except,” Dexx said, holding up his pencil, “to make people run after cars.”
“Parked cars, if that matters.”
Paige chuckled. “Do you have any experience with police procedure?”
“Nope.”
“What about solving cases?”
“Kind of. I’m really good at getting information out of people.”
Paige could see that. “I’m assuming you’re the siren that volunteered to teach my nephew.”
Surprise shown across Quinn’s face. “Your nephew is the bard? At the school?”
Paige nodded.
“Oh, well, um. Yeah. Yes.” Quinn nodded cautiously looking around. “I’m really not as bad ass as I just tried to—” She stopped herself and shook her head. “Yes. I’ve volunteered to teach your nephew how to use his voice and I will not teach him how to kill people.”