Curse It (A Peg Darrow Novel Book 1), page 15
Maybe Ronnie could make it worth my while. "Yes, I can help, but I need something in return." Granted blackmailing the guy wasn’t nice, but he was in a better position to get the information I needed. Creating a potion to clear up the scarring would take the better part of a morning, time I could be spending on the investigation.
He looked at me warily. "What do you want?"
I poked him in the chest, which was, of course, also firm. "Quit looking at me like that. I'm not going to ask you to sacrifice kittens to Hecate. I need information. I need to know who Violet dated in college, or if there were any other cases of her using magic on someone. I’ll even take rumors at this point. I'm assuming you've maintained your college connections?"
He nodded, looking relieved. "I can do that."
"Good, this is time sensitive. Get me all the information you can by tomorrow afternoon. I'll make your cure, and you can come around for it."
He looked like he wanted to hug me but settled on a quick nod and a whispered “thank you” in my ear before turning to head back to the bar.
13
While I was making the magic cream for Ronnie, I began to wonder if Violet lacked power or education when it came to her magic. Her father was human, but her mom was a witch. She should have been able to handle this with no problem. Maybe she didn't care to fix the problem beyond the basics? Plenty of witches only partly embraced their magical sides. They were in the magical closet, so to speak.
I could have done that. Witches were fairly rare these days, and my family lived in Tucson. I probably could have lied and gotten a job as a teacher. I shook my head, they'd have found out eventually.
It was the cold making me second-guess myself right now. It made everything bleaker. Thank gods Deval said it would only be a couple of days. When he came over later, I needed to grill him. A couple of days sounded like no big deal, but I needed specifics, like when this would go away, why it happened, and how to avoid it in the future. Well, the last bit was easily solved. Deval needed to take his damn box of doom back.
A knock sounded at the front door. Hopefully Deval had arrived. I stirred the mixture in my spell pot once more before lowering the flame to a simmer and placing the lid on it. The visitor knocked again.
"I'm coming," I shouted, walking toward the front door. A peek out the peephole told me why the person was impatient. "Seriously, Lola, why can you never just give me a minute to answer the door like a normal person?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Duh, Peg, you know our generation likes instant gratification. It's why credit card debt is high among our peers."
I quirked an eyebrow at my friend before ushering her inside. "Did Deval send you?"
"Huh, no. Why do you ask?"
"He's supposed to be by today to pick up his killer freezer."
She frowned. "What do you mean killer freezer?"
"That safe he left here. It enchanted me in the middle of the night and forced me into its cold depths."
"Seriously?" Her eyes widened.
"Seriously, there was a stairway and everything. It was so cold down there, if it snowed, I’d believe it was Narnia. At least before Aslan killed what's-her-nuts."
Her mouth drew into a hard line, not even smirking at my joke. "That shouldn't be possible."
This dance was getting old, but the steps were familiar, so I would waltz along and not bother with any illegal moves. "What shouldn't be possible?"
She walked past me into the kitchen and went to the pot Ronnie's ass cream was simmering in. "Are you making beauty products?"
She obviously smelled the lavender and chamomile I threw in on a whim. The potion could be a little harsh, and I didn't want Ronnie's ass to suffer more than it had already. "Sort of, I'm trading a potioned ass lotion, say that ten times fast, for some info. You should hang around. I've got two eligible bachelors coming by today."
"Now hardly seems the time to start a wild love life, Peg, but better late than never." She paused, turning all doom and gloom. "I hate this you know."
"Hate what? That murder brings all the boys to the yard? I'm not serious anyway. Deval probably has an arranged marriage set up with goblin royalty. Ronnie's a hottie, but I'm not into guys who regularly enjoy a quickie in a bar parking lot."
"A quickie never hurt anyone." She gave me a strained smile.
"Oh, it would hurt him. I doubt I'd be happy when I caught him with his windows all steamed up with some lady other than myself. Ronnie seems like a nice guy, but I don't think anyone will get him to settle down before he turns into the silver fox he’s destined to be. Even then, she'll be five years younger than I am now with boobs the size of cantaloupes."
Lola did laugh then, deep from her belly. "Oh, one of those, huh? Bright side is if you don't sleep with him, you can be friends, and you'll always get interesting stories."
"I'm not sure I want those kinds of stories. If I'm hankering for stories like that, I could always get a subscription to Penthouse Letters." I walked over to the stove and playfully hit Lola with my hip to get her out of the way. Lifting the lid, I stirred the potion a few more times and turned off the burner. I left the lid off so it would thicken as it cooled, and then I could put it in a Mason jar for Ronnie.
Lola placed her hand on my back tentatively. "I meant that I hate that I can't tell you everything. I'm afraid if I tell their secrets, that my family would disown me."
Turning around, I pulled her into a hug. Her parents’ death had left her with abandonment issues, and even though they hadn’t left her on purpose, she felt guilty for being angry with them. Lola's adoptive family loved her, and I didn’t think they would really disown her, but it would put them in a bad position. Despite my griping, I didn't want her to have to deal with that. She always had my back, even if she couldn't share state secrets.
"It's okay, Lo," I said, pulling away. "Deval is stopping by later, and he can tell me. Even if I have to find some zip ties in the closet and beat him at his own game. If you see him hogtied on my couch walk away quietly."
"Pssh, sure thing. If he comes back later and blames me for leaving him to be tortured and maimed, I can play innocent and claim I thought it was a tryst, it is after all my M.O."
"Want some coffee?" I grinned at her.
"Got some Bailey's or Kahlua to spike it with?"
I opened up the cabinet above my microwave and stood on my tippy toes to peer around. "Nope, but it looks like I have half a bottle of peppermint schnapps from last Christmas." I grabbed it and turned around to display the dusty bottle to her, my eyebrow quirked in question.
"Oh god, Peg, I was joking. I so would though, if I didn't have paperwork I needed to do later this afternoon."
"You're playing hooky this morning?"
"Nope, I'm not scheduled until this afternoon. Sadly my entire shift will be spent in the office. Bleh.” She made a face that I hadn’t seen since second grade when a little boy from down the street threw a gecko at the prissiest girl on the block.
"When you told me you would be a mining engineer, I thought it would be all digging and no bureaucracy."
"You should know better.” Lola waved her hand dismissively. “Every job has paperwork. If you want to use explosives and heavy machinery to dig holes without compromising the foundation and nature, there is going to be so much paperwork your eyes will cross," she replied morosely.
Grabbing a mug out of the drying rack, I filled it, added the flavored creamer she liked, and handed over the mug. After topping off my own, we clinked glasses. "May your paperwork be quick and painless," I said solemnly.
"May your ass cream work like a charm," she responded, and we drank in solidarity. "By the way, what is potioned-ass-lotion?"
"Aw, it is really just a scar removal cream, but as it's going on Ronnie's derriere, I can't help myself."
Her eyebrows drew together, and she took a seat at one of the two bar stools at my tiny bar. "Huh, that's an odd place to have scars. His ass was in the fire?" She grinned at her unexpected joke.
"You can say that, he was caught screwing around with his pants down. Unfortunately for him, the girl who caught him had a witch friend, or lackey as the case may be."
"Your murder victim?"
I leaned against the counter opposite the bar. "Yep, she cursed his ass.” I responded, not able to stop my escaping giggle. I’m sorry I’m being juvenile, but it's the gift that keeps on giving,"
"Poor guy."
"I should call him, see if he has some info ready to trade." I grabbed my phone and went to the contact listing I added to my phone the previous night. While it rang, I gripped the mug a little tighter, letting the warmth absorb into my hand. My teeth were on the verge of chattering again. I was mid-gulp when Ronnie answered.
"Hey, witchy woman, I've got some info for you."
I nearly sputtered coffee, but managed to swallow before answering, "Already? You work fast."
"Yeah, well, I was worried you wouldn't give me the cream if I didn't have the info. Plus, I was pretty popular in college. I have a large social circle to get the information from."
"So modest, no wonder you were popular," I sniped. "What's the rush? You've had the scars for five years. What’s another week?"
He didn’t miss a beat. "I want the option to wear a thong."
I cringed. "Ugh, too much info."
"Hey now, I didn't say I was going to. I said I wanted the option."
"Uh huh, I'm sure. Well, it's ready if you want to stop on by."
"What's the address? I'll be right over."
I rambled off the address, he advised he’d be at my house in twenty minutes, and I hung up the phone. Setting the phone down, I looked at Lola. "Looks like you get to meet bachelor-number-one after all. Fair warning, apparently he likes thong underwear."
"Ugh, on dudes that's weird," she responded, wrinkling her nose.
I nodded. "To be fair, a piece of fabric up your ass is weird on either gender. It’s just not as socially acceptable on guys." I didn't know why I was spouting off about gender equality and underwear choices, especially considering the fact my underwear drawer had its fair share of skimpy fabric pieces.
Lola waved off my argument. "Peg, how do you know this dude's not the killer?"
“My instincts say he's innocent."
"When did you become clairvoyant?"
"I'm not, but my mama always told me to trust my gut," I said giving her taste of southern twang.
"Your mama, my ass. Your mother would research the crap out of any question of guilt."
"Hmmm, maybe. Lord knows that woman loves a research project."
"You should make her your research assistant," Lola said thoughtfully.
"Not a bad idea, if I could afford to pay her. I can barely afford my own upkeep without adding another person to the payroll. Plus, she’d probably demand a dental plan."
"She's no spring chicken, and she's bound to need a bridge at some point." Lola laughed.
I joined in, letting the laughter roll through my belly. It was the best I’d felt in days. The laughter kept the chill at bay. It also erased my underlying tension with Lola. She’d been my best friend for so long, I considered her family. I hated it when we were on the outs.
Our laughs subsided, and I picked my mug off the counter for another sip before gesturing toward the living room. Lola hopped off her perch and followed. Down time never felt so good. We sat on the couch and shot the shit for another twenty minutes before a car pulled up outside.
Peeking through the window, I saw Ronnie squinting at my house then down to his phone. Probably double checking the address. He stood next to a vintage Chevy truck. I didn't know enough about cars to know much beyond the fact that it was a vintage Chevy, and the glossy paint and chrome screamed expensive. Yep, Ronnie excelled at his job.
Lola let out a low whistle. "Well, damn if he isn't a cutie. Check out his wheels. I didn't think bartenders made that much."
Looking at her, I added, "But I bet he doesn't have dental," then winked.
That sent her off into another peal of laughter while I went to get the door. My wards hummed through the house, letting me know I had a human visitor. Ronnie made it down the walkway and knocked assertively.
I looked up to the ceiling. "Oh now you work just fine," I muttered while I opened the door.
"What?" Ronnie asked, obviously thinking that I was talking to him.
"Oh nothing, come on in," I said, letting him pass through the wards. A minute shiver ran through his body. Interesting, most humans couldn't feel them. Maybe he had some magical blood in his family. He walked into the entryway and paused, waiting for direction. He scanned every inch of the house and ran a hand through his hair; perhaps he thought I’d lured him here for nefarious reasons. In five minutes, Lola would make him feel right at home. I walked past him to the living room, gesturing for him to follow.
"Lola, this is Ronnie. Ronnie, Lola." I introduced them and then excused myself from the room to go and ladle the now cooled butt cream into a jar. From the kitchen, I couldn't make out their conversation, but Lola's usually sultry voice went up in pitch. A sure-fire indication she was flirting. Ronnie's answering deep laugh made me chuckle. No man was immune to Lola. Shrugging, I screwed the lid onto the mason jar and joined them.
I handed him the jar. He looked at it with both trepidation and hope.
“Ronnie, I wouldn't give you something that was going to hurt you. It's just scar cream."
"Ass cream, really," Lola piped in and started to laugh.
He pinked a bit but let out a nervous, good-natured chuckle. "She told you, huh?"
"Peg tells me everything. Don't worry, it could have happened to the best of us." She placed a reassuring hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze before jumping up. "Well, you two, it's been fun, but a girl's gotta eat. I'm off to the salt mines, or copper mines, as the case may be."
Ronnie rose as she grabbed her purse and made her exit. After the front door closed, he sat back down, and I took Lola's place on the couch next to him.
Leaning into the arm, I put space between us. "So, what did you find out?"
"Lots of stuff." He gave me a flirtatious grin.
"Would you care to elaborate? I will repossess that jar," I teased.
His grip on the jar tightened reflexively, as if it were a lifeline.
I sighed. "It was a joke. I don't need a jar of scar cream. Spill."
His shoulders relaxed, and he set the jar on the coffee table. "Violet was quite popular in her freshman and sophomore years. She started hanging out with Jessica, who was practically the social queen of the campus. Jessica encouraged Violet to be a little, uh, promiscuous.
I rolled my eyes. “Jessica said as much.”
“Jessica knew how it was done, since she liked her men, but not to the level she encouraged Violet. Hey, we were all young, no big deal, do what you want.”
“Is that still your excuse?” I asked deadpan.
He clasped his hands over his heart. “That hurts. These looks will eventually fade. Gotta have some fun while I still got it.”
“Bull, but please, continue.”
“Yes, ma’am. I think about halfway through sophomore year, Jessica got bored with their friendship and jealous of the attention Violet got. She started telling everyone how easy Violet was, though she used stronger adjectives than ‘easy.’ Then she spread rumors about Violet casting curses on people. I only ever knew about the one she cast on me, but I didn't say anything because I didn’t want to bring her attention back to me."
"You think she might have placed another curse on you?" That would paint a different picture than what he previously told me.
"No, not now. She wasn't the vicious type. That was all Jessica. When Violet started getting bullied, she removed herself from the scene completely."
"You didn't say anything about her being hazed when we talked before." The cold that laughter had kept at bay returned. I stood and walked over to the tiny fireplace in my living room to stop the shivers. The logs were already set up in the hearth. With a quiet incantation, the fire came to blazing life.
I turned back to Ronnie as he gulped audibly. Starting the fire with my magic wasn’t meant to intimidate him, but sweat dotted his forehead nonetheless. "I didn't know before. I talked to some of the sorority girls that used to run with Jessica. One of the girls felt kinda guilty about it."
Turning back to the fire, I willed the heat to seep into my bones. I’d always loved fire. Right now I wanted to bathe in it. I looked back over my shoulder. "And?"
"Apparently some of the girls and guys printed out pictures of witch burnings and put them on her dorm room door. The sickest thing they did was set up some fire wood and a wooden pole right outside her room. That's about the time she moved out of the dorms."
I turned, putting the fire at my back. "Did she retaliate?" I had a hard time getting the words past my clenched teeth. I grasped my hands in front of me, unsure of whether they were shaking from the cold or the anger. This could be the big break I was looking for, and I needed to push past my own feelings of outrage.
He dropped his eyes, not meeting my glare. "Nope, like I said, after she cursed me, Violet wasn't as vicious as I thought."
Or she no longer had the back up to get away with it. It made me think about her relationship with the vampires.
"She dropped out of the social scene, minded her own business, and went to class."
"Not sure this info is worth the scar cream," I commented dryly.
He looked to the cream sitting on the coffee table and reached out as if to grab it before catching himself and pulling his hand back. He looked at me sheepishly. "But there's more. A teacher disappeared."
"Why didn't you start with that?" Exasperation coated my voice.
"I thought you wanted all the info I found out.”
He had a point. "Okay, go on." I gestured with my hand.
"Senior year, Violet had an upper level biology class with one of the girls I knew. Violet kept to herself, like she’d done for the past two years, but my friend noticed she went to the T.A. a lot after class. She even saw Violet coming out of his office one day, too."
