A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) (24 page)

“The creatures that cannot be classified as a shifter. They don’t all run in packs, but we do, typically, stay together. Though, in Portland, they don’t necessarily enjoy those ties with shifters. There’s a large gathering of them around Troutdale, though. They call themselves the Shadow Sisterhood.”

“That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

“It’s how many of them survive. The sisterhood claims no connections to the pack and the Eastwoods don’t penalize them as harshly as they do others. Merry controls a lot, mostly banks.”

“Oh. Crap.” Paige was barely keeping it together with everything she had going on. Add politics to the mix? The kind of ‘she owns all the banks’ kind of politics? It suddenly wasn’t a great idea. “I don’t know.”

“It could be good. I could relocate the rest of my pack back home.”

Had that been his ulterior motive all along? It kind of felt like it had been. She recalled his reactions at their original meeting. Granted, a lot of things had happened between then and now, but still. She was fairly certain she was playing right into his hands.

But was that bad? They had mutual goals.

Maybe. But she didn’t want to be played. “Right. Well, slow your roll. Okay? I can’t leave for at least another two months.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Ask Judge Warren.”

Chuck sighed and straightened, propping his foot on something behind the bar. “She wouldn’t tell me even if I asked. She holds to the letter of the law, even to me.”

Awesome. “Oh, well, that’s nice to hear.”

“Anyway.”

“Anyway,” she said. “I’m in a custody battle over my daughter.”

“Oh. I thought her father had been killed.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about me.”

“I’ve done my research.”

“Yeah, well. I’ll be doing mine. I’ll need your date of birth before I go. A social security number wouldn’t go amiss.”

He chuckled, but lowered his head.

He deserved an explanation. “It’s my mother. She won custody five years ago, but I’m fighting to get her back.”

“How did that happen?”

“Angels.” Dexx waved away further questions. “Trust me. You don’t want to know more than that.”

Paige took another draw of her beer. “So, yeah. I’m stuck here for at least two months.”

Chuck nodded. “Well, if you’d be willing to at least entertain the idea of returning to Portland, helping us. All of us.”

She didn’t like it. She and politics didn’t mix well. “The whole point of potentially moving to Portland was to keep my family safe by going directly to the source.”

“But if you were to help us, you
would
be making Portland safer.
You
could align the witches, the shifters, and the Shadow Sisterhood. Imagine how safe things would be then.”

Yeah. And all she had to do was keep her children away from the prying eyes of the angels and demons while trying to put a Band-Aid on a war. Easy. “I’ll least consider it. What about this treaty? You know, the one we’re breaking just by speaking?”

Chuck licked his top lip. “I believe I mentioned making a new one.”

He had, but she had no idea what she was doing. “That’s not a
bad
idea.”

“It would be between only my pack and the Whiskey witches, something that modifies the original treaty so that we can speak and not declare war on one another.”

“That would be great.” If that was even possible.

“I agree. Your cat could use more help with his shift.”

Dexx glared at the alpha. “’Your cat.’ That’s cute.”

“He’s a really big cat,” Paige added with a smile.

“Yes.” Chuck’s expression grew serious. “This is the reason he will need continued assistance with his shift.”

Paige couldn’t ignore how the thought of someone else helping him eased her mind a little. And not just someone. A regional high-alpha. Who didn’t seem like a complete asshole, or, well, any kind of asshole, really. He seemed—well, her gut said he’d make a good ally.

“You are an alpha,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “But you are not a shifter.”

“Yeah.”

“You could use some guidance and direction as well.”

Paige drank more of her ale and set down her mug. “That is a true statement. Okay. What did you have in mind?”

“We can sign it today?”

“No. I’ll have to bring it back to my family so we can discuss it.”

“Hmm.” Chuck took in a quick breath and held it. “I would say that should you relocate your family to Portland, that Alma might wish to step down as head of family.”

That was more than a little heavy-handed. “Why is that?”

“Because,” Chuck reached under the bar and pulled out a laptop, “Merry is still alive and she’s stronger than ever. Alma is no match for that witch.”

If there was a witch out there that outmatched Alma, the Whiskeys were in a lot of trouble. Maybe more than Paige could handle. “You mentioned you know why she’s in town.”

Chuck nodded, his gaze distant.

“Care to share?”

He sighed, grounding his jaw. “She is buying another company.”

Great. She owned banks
and
bought other companies. In what kind of sandbox would her and this Merry Eastwood ever be equals? “How worried should I be?”

“With Merry, you should always be worried. But, I assure you, she is quite busy at the moment.”

“I didn’t realize buying companies was such a big thing.”

Chuck smiled, his pale eyes giving off a ruthless gleam. “She is purchasing one of my companies.” He raised a dark eyebrow. “And I am keeping her…very entertained.”

Oh. “Oh.” Well. “So, I wasn’t the first to break the treaty?”

“Definitely not.”

Paige frowned at the bar. Then was the edge off?

“But she will make sure you are the last.”

With her daughter back, a new son, Dexx by her side, and her family back in her life, Merry was going to find it extremely difficult to bring that level of despair back into her life.

Chuck smiled. “Excellent. Now, about this new treaty…”

“T
hat,” Dexx said as they made it back onto the two-lane highway, “did not go nearly as badly as I thought it would.”

“No, it did not.” Paige put her hand to her head. “Though, I feel like a bit of an alcoholic, drinking before six.”

“Yeah. You’re a real alchy, Pea. You had one beer and you’re buzzed. True sign right there.”

“Shut up.”

Dexx smiled at her. “So, about tonight.”

“Yes?” She smiled at him.

He wiggled his eyebrows. “I brought my pretty underwear.”

“You mean your Sponge Bob boxers?”

He batted his eyes at her. “So you
have
seen my sexy underwear.”

She laughed. “Oh my god, Dexx. Those things are hideous. Hideous.”

“Just because you don’t understand the love and supreme joy of Sponge Bob…”

“There was study done on Sponge Bob—”

He snorted. “A study? Like someone actually spent money on this thing?”

“There are words coming out of my mouth. Stop talking and listen.”

“Oh.” He grinned and zipped his lips closed.

“There was a study and it showed that Sponge Bob makes people stupid.”

“When my penis is awake, I assure you, I am always stupid.”

Paige finished her laugh with a happy sigh. “Who would have thought a week ago that we’d be here and that things wouldn’t suck so bad?”

“Right? You and Alma aren’t trying to kill each other.” He gestured with his hand as they entered the four lane highway. “That would have been entertaining, but I do appreciate the fact that you ladies were able to get past the ‘whoops’ and right into the ‘hey, I love you’ part of the conversation. That was very adult of both of you.”

“I’m not saying I fully trust her.” Or was completely over the betrayal.

“Right?”

“But I’m happy right now.”

So was she. “Happiness changes a person.”

“Oh, gods, yes.”

They drove the rest of the way in relative silence. Dexx turned on the radio and sang along, inviting Paige to join him. She didn’t even know the songs playing, so there was very little she could do. However, the fact that he knew country blew her mind a little. He was so old school hard rock, she didn’t think he had any country in him.

When they pulled up to the house, there were about three more cars than needed to be there. Paige frowned, but walked through the front door anyway.

Rachel’s twisted face greeted her in the living room.

Leah sat on the striped sofa. It looked like she was trying to disappear into it.

But Rachel wasn’t paying that much attention to Leah. She had her eyes glued on Bobby.

Bobby! Fear ram-rodded Paige’s spine.

Becky, the angel social worker
,
sat on one of the chairs opposite the floral sofa, Bobby in her arms. “Ah, Ms. Whiskey. There you are.”

Paige stepped into the room. That name. Again. She walked past Rachel and took Bobby a lot more gently than she thought she’d be capable of. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m assigned to Leah’s case. Rachel requested visitation and I’m the court ordered supervisor.”

“But
I
decide when she has visitations.”

“Yes.” Becky’s eyebrows rose painfully, her smile tighter. “Yes, you sure do.”

Paige gritted her teeth. “Can I offer you any coffee?”

“Tea?”

“Excellent. We have a wide variety. Why don’t you come into the kitchen and pick one?”

Alma moved from her position at the table near the door of the dining room. “I’ll stay with Rachel and Leah.”

“Thanks, Grandma.” Paige ducked into the hallway and walked to the kitchen that way. “We’ll be right back.”

“Take your time, hon,” Alma called.

“I really do need to watch them,” Becky said quietly.

“Yeah.” Paige filled the tea kettle and put it on the stove. “Why is Bobby down here?”

“I came to check on him. She just showed up.”

“And you couldn’t send her away?”

“I’m court ordered, Paige, but only you have the authority to send her away.”

“So the court ordered part wasn’t a lie?” She was going to have a hard time keeping up with everything.

“No.”

“You do realize what that woman is, don’t you?”

“I’m well aware of Rachel’s connections with the angel hierarchy. She’s in direct contact with Michael.”

“Oh, great! And now she knows I have a baby and she’s going to start asking questions about where the baby came from.”

Becky held up her hands. “The absolute best way to get the angels off Bobby’s trail is to tell everyone that you gave birth to him.”

That
had
been the direction they had thought of taking. It still sounded ludicrous. How in the
hell
were they going to pull that one off? “There are no records that state that.”

“There
weren’t
.”

Paige took a moment to comprehend what she was saying. Just the sheer number of details that had to be fabricated to sell this lie was astounding. “There are now?”

“Yes. Ethel contacted me.”

A small wave of relief warmed Paige’s chilled veins.

Becky flicked her hand and a stack of papers appeared on the kitchen island. “Birth certificate with you named as the mother. Born in Denver. You drove down here with him as a newborn. There are pictures of you pregnant with him. Pictures of you and Dexx together pregnant.”

“Did you name Dexx as the father?”

“I didn’t want to presume, but if he is willing, I think it would be wise.”

“Even though he didn’t come back into my life this year until Louisiana.”

“There were a few memories we had to alter.”

“You altered memories, too?”

“He’s the prophet, Paige.” Becky slammed her palm against the counter top. “The angels have already tried to kill him once.”

“It wasn’t an angel.” Oh, crap. She still had to tell Henry what she’d discovered. Shit. “It was a djinn.”

Becky cringed. “So, demons are after him.”

“Yes. Demons are after him.”

Becky pressed her hand to her forehead. “That’s better than I’d hoped. We might actually be able to pull this off.”

“Might? You’re trying to get me to tell everyone that I had a baby when I didn’t.”

“Did you want a paper trail tying him from his mother to you?”

No. No, she did not.

“This is the only other solution.”

The tea kettle whistled.

Paige opened the tea cupboard. “Pick a tea. Did you tell Leslie and Grandma? What about Tru? Mandy? Tyler? They could inadvertently blow this for us.”

“No. So I recommend you handle that.”

“Fuck.”

Becky chose a tea while Paige crammed the paperwork into the utensil drawer to get it out of sight. They walked back into the living room.

“How is it here?” Rachel asked Leah.

Leah shoved her earbuds in her ears and bobbed her head.

Paige frowned at her daughter and at how rude she was being at the moment. Granted, she couldn’t have been ruder to a more deserving person, but still. She needed to teach Leah that that was unacceptable.

But, putting herself in Leah’s shoes, she’d probably do the same thing. She was “visiting” with the woman who’s raised her for the last five years of her life. Things hadn’t been great there, maybe, if they were all reading Leah right. And now, here they were, “visiting” with an audience.