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Witches of the West - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) Page 3
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Paige opened her eyes the next morning, the sunlight filtering through the large windows.
Fresh start.
Felt amazing.
Granted…witches. Trying to kill her. Not great.
But fresh start. New day with no mistakes in it yet.
So, what was she going to do with that?
Good question.
Dexx rolled over and rested his head on his hand. “Excited?”
“Yeah.” She smiled into his chiseled face. “I am.”
He leaned forward. “Do you hear that?”
She listened. Silence. No squeaking floorboards. No fighting kids. Silence. She frowned at him with a smile on her lips.
“We could have sex. Any time we wanted.”
Hmm. Now, that was an interesting proposition. Since they’d agreed to date and since he’d volunteered to put his name on Bobby’s birth certificate, they hadn’t had a lot of sex. They’d had a couple of quickies because they never knew when Bobby would cry, kids would scream, people would walk into their room. There’d been no privacy.
But here?
Everyone could have been living in another house for all she knew.
She reached up and touched his face. This lovely man who’d changed his entire life around for her.
He stared at her with his gorgeous green eyes. “Do I seem less manly to admit to being a little scared?”
She chuckled. “No. Not at all. I’m…a little terrified. Does that make me less womanly?”
He pressed a kiss into her head. “You are all woman. W-o-double grr-R.”
“That—” She interrupted herself with laughter. “That didn’t spell anything.”
“I know, but I was trying to get the Tigger in tiger and the grr in woman to hear you roar.”
Oh, that man. She grabbed his head and hugged him close.
“Boobbies,” he said, muffled into her chest. “Boooooobbies.”
Laughing, she pushed him away and got out of bed. They hadn’t made it. They’d thrown a sheet on the bottom—which was now rumpled in the middle of the mattress—and had thrown a comforter on top. There was so much work to do. They needed to finish unloading the PODs, unpack. She needed to go check in with her new boss. Enroll kids in school. The list was overwhelming.
But she had a balcony to her bedroom. She grabbed Dexx’s hand and dragged him out of bed.
He chuckled, following her tug. “Okay. Okay. No sex?”
“I’m a little rattled still.”
He gave her a sad face. “Just so you know, I can perform whether I’m sad, or happy, or depressed. Sex makes all of that better.”
“I’m sure it does.” She’d read the articles. “But right now, I’m overwhelmed.”
He put his bare feet on the floor and stood, his lips curled upward in a comedic grimace. “Penis makes overwhelmed feel better,” he said in Scooby voice.
Why he randomly chose that voice for that comment made no sense to her. She laced her fingers through his and walked to the double glass doors leading to the balcony.
The cool morning breeze danced along her skin. The wooden floorboards sent knives of ice into the bottoms of her feet. She wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking him close to her back.
He wrapped his other arm around her, resting his head on her shoulder. “I could get used to this.”
So could she. “It’s so beautiful.” Trees. The air smelled good, crisp, clean. No sirens. No sounds of traffic in a city that never slept.
Wind whispering in pines. The crinkling sound of leaves fluttering in the breeze. The burbling rush of water from the nearby river.
The muffled voice of a girl exclaiming over something. Sounded like Mandy, but Paige had gotten her and Leah mixed up before. She needed to bond with Leah, get to know her daughter.
And, if they could just keep other witches from killing them, this would be the perfect place to do that. Peaceful. When was the last time they’d had peace?
Chaos? Yes. All the time. Constant.
But this?
Never.
“Well,” Dexx said, taking a step back. “Let’s get dressed. I want to show you the place I picked for my office.”
She followed him back into their room and grabbed a pair of pants out of her open duffle bag. “You’re really not going to join me on the force again?”
“I don’t think your new boss will allow it.” He shrugged as he slipped on a grey t-shirt. “And I didn’t fit in. I enjoyed the paycheck. Don’t get me wrong there, but—” He shook his head with a wry expression. “It didn’t suit me. Desk job. Boss. Paperwork? Yeah—no. I didn’t like it.”
“So, private investigator? How do you even know how to do the job?”
“You could do the job. You’re just investigating a case. Only thing is, you don’t close anything. You turn over all your evidence to the person who hired you.”
Yeah, but still. She rummaged around until she found a clean sports bra and t-shirt. “A lot less paperwork.”
“You have no idea. And I can shoot my weapon.”
“Without filing a report.”
“Exactly.”
She could see the potential.
They gathered Bobby who was quietly waiting for them. Paige changed his diaper, contentment filling her as she went through what could be a standard routine. If they could just make this work, their life could really be amazing.
The kitchen was quiet, or at least it seemed that way now that it was just the Whiskeys and not an entire pack. Leslie sat at the table, her eyes half closed as she propped up a bottle for Kamden.
Tru tapped on his laptop, having a quiet conversation with Tyler who was playing with a bowl of cereal.
Mandy glared into her cereal bowl, her chin in her hand.
“Hey, Les.” Paige went to the fridge and grabbed one of the pre-made bottles, warming it up for Bobby.
“Mmm.”
“What are you doing today?”
“Going to the bank.”
Paige shook her head. “For what?”
“It’s time to open the shop.”
“You’re getting a loan already?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you need a business plan for that?”
“Already have it.”
“Oh.”
“Some of us plan.”
Paige planned. Kind of. Not really.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking out Dexx’s office and then checking in with the new boss.”
Leslie nodded. “Taking the kids?”
“Was planning on it.” It was tough getting used to having kids around.
“That’ll make a great first impression with the boss.”
True. “We don’t have a babysitter.”
Leslie took the bottle away from Kamden and set it on the table. “We do, actually.”
Paige took the bottle out of the microwave and shook it. Using the microwave wasn’t the best way to heat up a bottle. She knew that. But it was the fastest, most convenient way.
Bobby pumped his fists faster, his blue eyes glued to the bottle.
She tested the milk against her wrist, shrugged, and shifted Bobby so she could prop the bottle between his face and her chin. “Who?”
“Faith.”
As a babysitter? “I don’t understand.”
“Chuck really wants our support.” Leslie burped her son. “So, we have babysitters. A whole pack of them.”
That was very convenient, but at the same time, Paige was cautious. She didn’t know politics, but this particular situation needed a careful touch. Allegiances needed to be brokered carefully and there was still too much she didn’t know about Chuck.
“Yeah.” Leslie sighed. “Anyway, she’s on her way over. Should be here any time now.”
“We won’t have any adults here?”
Leslie shook her head. “Tru’s going into work today. You and Dexx are out. I’m going out to the bank and to check out two properties I’ve had my e
ye on. Grandma’s the only one who might stay, but I’m not asking her to look after the kids. Are you?”
No. “I like breathing.”
“I do, too.”
Leah and Mandy didn’t make it from the attic by the time Paige and Dexx left. The two girls had claimed the attic. Paige hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, but they were excited about it.
Dexx led the way to Jackie, kid-less. “You ready to go start our working lives here?”
Not…really. They’d just arrived. She wanted to make home home.
But they needed stability. Part of her hoped she could find a situation where she’d have more time for her family. As head of the special unit in Dallas, she’d had little time for family. She needed a better balance.
Dexx backed Jackie around the cars and the PODS. “We have a lot of work left.”
Like unpacking everything? “Yeah. What I wouldn’t give for some slave labor on that.”
“Yeah. The kids will only move pillows.”
Very true statement. That’s all they’d moved into the PODS. Well, and their own stuff. “We don’t have a lot of pillows.”
“No. We don’t.” He drove down the drive. The green leaves on the trees around them were so thick, they were practically driving through a tunnel. “Why are you fighting Chuck’s help?”
Tough question. She felt her reasons were valid, but would they remain so after she said them out loud?
“I’ve noticed it. Leslie’s noticed it. You didn’t see how fast she jumped at the idea of a babysitter.”
Leslie had had plans before she’d had kids. She’d put herself through school to be a bio lab technician. But after having Mandy, she’d chosen to take a break to raise her instead of forking over most of her paycheck for daycare. In order to get back into that, she’d have to go back to school because the field had advanced beyond her.
But she’d loved it.
Not that Paige didn’t think Leslie enjoyed being a mother. She was fairly certain Leslie loved that, too.
But if she could be a mother and do something else with her life?
As a working mother herself, Paige understood the draw. Being a mother was nice. It was fulfilling.
In one half of her life.
“So, why are you balking at his help?” Dexx asked, bringing her back to the conversation.
“I just think it might be a good idea to put a little distance between us, is all.”
“A little distance?” he asked, his voice inflecting upward.
Oh, boy. How to back Dexx off of the defensive. “We’re trying to renegotiate a treaty here.”
“No,” he said firmly. “We’re about to go to war here.”
They really could be, but she wanted to mitigate that if she could. In war, people died, and she had people with her she didn’t want to see dead. “We just need to be careful.”
“Of not dying.”
“Exactly. But, too, I need the ability to do what needs to be done.”
“Like what?”
“Like—” She had no idea, but if she owed someone so much, she might be tempted to bend the law for them. “Like do what needs to be done, no matter who we’re dealing with. If a murder case comes up, and it’s a shifter, I need the freedom to bring that person to justice. And if Chuck’s bought our loyalty, I won’t be able to do that.”
“Bought our loyalty?”
Somehow through the course of this conversation, they’d made it from sprawling trees to burgeoning metropolis.
“Like we’re for sale?”
“We may not think so.” And she really didn’t, but she couldn’t shake the fact that she was building bonds with Chuck’s pack. His help with the house? The babysitter? “But it could happen.”
“You’re not someone who can be bought.”
“I’m glad you realize that.” And she hoped she stayed that way. But loyalty was a tricky thing. It made you think you were doing the right thing when you weren’t and all because you cared for someone.
“Yeah, well, you need to realize that as well.”
She focused out the window. “Where are we going?”
They crossed a bridge over a large river. “To the place I chose for my office.”
“Oh.” It kind of hurt that he’d chosen not to work with her. They didn’t get alone time, or romance time, or any kind of time. But what they’d had was time at work, going through cases, putting their heads together to solve them.
Though, in reality, there’d been less of that and more him working with the rest of the Dallas team.
He turned onto a street and parked. They were on the edge of a warehouse district, maybe. There were industrial docks along the river just to their left, but directly up ahead was a long line of brick buildings that looked like they’d been through the test of time. Leaning forward, he pointed. “That’s it.”
Brick building, like all the other brick buildings. Five stories. Store fronts on the bottom. None looked vacant.
“What are we looking at?”
“Second floor. Third window from the left.”
Paige undid her lap belt and opened the door, getting out. “Have you signed the lease yet?”
“Going to today,” he said over the top of the car. He grinned and watched the traffic to cross the street.
Paige went to join him.
Electricity flared through her body, starting at her leading foot, shooting to her chest, her right hand. It paralyzed her momentarily.
Magickal force pushed her back.
She stumbled backward to the sidewalk and blinked, switching to witch vision. A big dome covered in an oil slick encapsulated a large chunk of the block.
Dexx stood by her. “What’s wrong?”
Switching back to normal vision, she glanced at him. “This might be a bad location.”
“Why? The rent’s right. The space is good. The location is great. This is the water front. Great business neighborhood.”
“And the Eastwood’s back yard.”
He straightened, looking around. “What do you mean?”
“Their protections. I just tripped their frelling ward.”
“Oh.” He put his hand on her waist and guided her back to the car. “Let’s get you out of here, then.”
“Yeah.” And quickly.
The ride to the Portland police station was silent. No need to hash out what had just happened, or the ramifications of her tripping the Eastwood ward. She already had a pretty good idea.
She went in by herself, stopping at the front desk. “I’m looking for Captain Banes.”
The desk sergeant barely glanced at her. “Paige Whiskey?”
“Yes.”
“He’s in his office.”
Paige followed the woman’s directions to the back, finding his door with relative ease. Captains typically had the only real office in the station, and this one was no different. She listened to the buzz, catching a few phrases now and again. Open space. Wooden desks. Decent lighting. She could work here, be a detective again.
She knocked on the door.
He waved her in.
She couldn’t guess his ancestor’s nationality. His skin was tanned, his hair brown, his eyes dark. He wore a blue dress-shirt with a grey tie. His suit jacket hung on the coat rack beside the door.
He gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk. “Miss Whiskey, please sit.”
She smiled and did so. “I’m excited to be here. It looks like you’ve got a good operation here.”
“I do.” He moved away from his computer and shoved a piece of paper to the side, giving her his undivided attention. “Which is why you won’t be working here.”
Um…what? “I don’t understand.”
“I tried telling Henry I couldn’t take you. He wouldn’t hear anything of it. You let him know what was going on and now he thinks that’s the only concern I should have, covering up for your kind.”
Shock coursed its way through her. She’d just moved her entire family to Or
egon on the premise she’d have work. She was a cop, only a cop. She didn’t know how to be anything else. “My kind?”
“Witches.” He gestured to the bullpen outside his door. “Do you see what isn’t out there?”
She didn’t know what he thought she’d see.
“Go ahead. Look. I mean, really look.”
Blinking, she twisted in her chair, switching on witch vision and looking.
Auras. Just normal auras. No shifters. No magick. No wards.
“Yes. Our loyalties are clean. It doesn’t matter what lands on our desks, Miss Whiskey. Every case will be handled fairly and justly.”
The earth moved out from under her feet, or her chair. This couldn’t be happening. “But I can be fair and just.”
“Before you moved here. Maybe. But you’re about to enter into politics.” He folded his hands in front of him. “Bet you didn’t know that. Did you? Well, if you’re staying, you will and I don’t need that in my precinct.”
She didn’t know what to do. She’d just lost? For real? Seriously? “But I’m a good detective.”
“And I’m sure we could use your help.” His expression softened. “But not here.”
“I don’t understand.” Did he know of another place she could go to work?
“Look.” He took in a deep breath and leaned back. “The paranormals don’t have a justice department. They have pack alphas. The witches don’t have a justice department. They have coven leaders.”
Where was he going with this?
“We can’t handle all the cases they bring us. Not correctly, anyway. We do our best, but we’re human.”
Just regular…human. “What are you telling me?”
“I’m saying…” He stood up and offered his hand. “I can’t have you working here, but I’ve seen your record, Detective.”
She stood, unsure what to do.
“And I’d enjoy working with you and your team.”
“My team?” She didn’t have a team.
He nodded. “I recommend building one and giving this paranormal community what it needs.”
She took his hand because it seemed like the right thing to do. He wasn’t being a jerk. She could kinda see his side of things. “What’s that?”
“A justice system that can handle them the way they need to be handled.”
“And who’s going to oversee that?”