Witch in the Wind (Bandit Creek Books) (4 page)

Busby crawled closer to her on his belly and whimpered. She felt a shiver crawl up her back and into her scalp. She shook it off but a tingle stayed. She stroked Busby’s head. “It’s just a legend, buckaroo.”

The next morning was Saturday, the day she was to meet Dr. Egan to see if he’d found Busby’s owner. Dread crept over her. She knew she had to do the right thing, find his real owners. But to lose him now. She
couldn’t think about it.

She glanced at her bedroom window where the morning sun seeped through a gap in her curtains. She stretched and was surprised she felt rested. She recognized the weight along her side as Busby and gave him an affectionate shove as she swung her legs over the edge of her bed. “Come on lazy bones.”

Busby grunted like an old man who’d had too much to drink, until she said the magic word. “Breakfast.”

As he bounded off the bed, she could only wish he knew how to get the coffee-maker going while he waited for her to catch up with him in the kitchen. She took a quick shower, pulled on her worn blue jeans and a T-shirt. She grabbed her black denim jacket in anticipation of the crisp mountain air. At the back of her closet, she found her old cowboy boots. They were well-worn and more comfortable than running shoes. She tucked them under her arm, conscious of her mother’s hard and fast rule about no shoes in the house, and went down to the kitchen for some serious caffeine before she headed into town to meet with Dr. Egan-of-the-amazing-eyes.

Busby whimpered as she sat on the porch step to haul on her boots fifteen minutes later.

“I know you want to come too,” she told him, “but you aren’t allowed in the restaurant and I don’t like to leave you in the car for that long.”

His bark made it clear he didn’t agree.

“I’m sorry, buddy.” She rubbed his ear as she stood up. “You can play outside ‘til I get back.”

He followed her to the car and whined to get in. She sharpened her voice to make sure he would obey. “Stay.” Then she sat in the car and closed the door.

Busby wandered back to the front porch and lay in front of the door. He looked so forlorn she almost gave in and let him come to town but she knew he’d be just as unhappy stuck in the small car for over an hour.

She shook her head, put the car in gear and headed down the lane to town. She parked in front of The Candy Store, a couple of car lengths down from Ma’s Kitchen. Her mouth watered at the thought of George Jacks’ cinnamon buns.

As she approached the door, she slowed her steps. She’d missed the crowd the day before but she’d still felt awkward talking to Lucy Jacks, owner and adopted grandmother of Bandit Creek, about her parents’ death. She’d struggled with tears. On a Saturday, every table in the diner would be filled. If they all stopped talking and stared at her, well, she’d just sink into the floor and—

The bell jangled overhead as she opened the door, calling for everyone’s attention.

I hate that. She hunched her shoulders as she immediately felt all eyes swing towards her. She glanced around the familiar diner.

Ma’s Kitchen had served the townsfolk of Bandit Creek forever as far as she knew. Lucy’s great grandmother started the first diner in town after the flood. It hadn’t changed much over the years either. Torn red leather stools stood along the worn laminate counter, red booths circling the diner with matching tables in rows down the middle. The black and white tiled floor showed years of wear and tear but was spotless despite the damp, dusty excuse of a Main Street right outside the door.

Avy nodded at the faces she recognized and even a few she didn’t.

“Back again so soon, Avy-girl,” Lucy called, as she stepped out from behind the cash at the counter. The woman was approaching seventy, with tight grey curls poking out from under a black cowboy hat. A hand towel was thrown over the right shoulder of her starched white blouse. A triangle of black and white kerchief hung just below her chin as if it had just slipped off her face. It was an odd outfit, even for Lucy.

Crap, Avy thought. Bandit Days. She’d completely forgotten the town’s annual celebration.

“You’ll be staying today.” Lucy didn’t make it a question. She shooed Avy to a booth near the window. Avy would have preferred one at the back. Preferably in a corner. “You sit over here, my girl, and I’ll put some meat on those bones.”

“I’m supposed to meet someone here.” Avy glanced around and realized almost everyone had gotten into the spirit of the
masquerade party’s
ban
k robbery theme although most seemed to have chosen to be the ‘Bad Guy’ rather than be the sheriff who saves the day. “Have you seen Dr. Egan?” she asked.

“Marcus ain’t come in yet, girl. But I’m sure he’ll be along any minute.”

Lucy pushed her hat back and patted her wispy curls. The flushed cheeks could have been blood pressure or maybe the vet was a hottie to all ages, Avy thought, remembering her own reaction to the new vet.

He was an extraordinarily handsome man with his dark black hair and athletic body. He had a face that was all sharp planes and angles, with the most perfect skin she’d ever seen on anyone, and especially on a man. He seemed to glow. But it was his eyes—

At first glance, she thought they were hazel, almost amber. Then when she looked directly at him, it was like slipping into a crystal cave. His eyes were every color, and yet no color at all. In the clinic, her skin had tingled as she stood looking up at him. It tingled now just thinking about him.

Lucy placed a menu on the table. “He’s rented the house a couple of blocks over on Willow. You’ll see him coming from here.”

Avy snapped her attention back to the older woman as she felt heat spread across her cheeks. “He’s helping me find the owner of a stray dog up near the house.” Why did she need an excuse to meet with the vet?

“Of course, my girl.” Lucy’s voice was neutral in spite of her knowing look. Avy looked around the diner for a distraction. Her gaze stopped on a table several over. The mayor was deep in conversation with another man wearing a forestry uniform. The second man was facing her but she didn’t recognize him. With his ball cap pulled low over his forehead, all she could see of his face was pale, round cheeks, weak chin, and round wire glasses poking out from under the brim.

Lucy followed her gaze. “That’s the government man, Blake Ferran.”

“What are they up to?” Avy asked, confident Lucy would know. Ma’s Kitchen was the central meeting place for Bandit Creek and nobody made a move in town without Lucy knowing the what and why of it.

“The mayor brought him in to see if Lost Lake can be designated a heritage site. Some developer’s eyein’ it,” Lucy said.

“For what?” Avy vaguely remembered her mother saying something about Lost Lake in a phone call.

“Wanna put up condos or somethin’,” Lucy said.

“Mayor Clayborn’d never let that happen, Lucy.” Avy hoped. She didn’t want to live in Bandit Creek but she didn’t want it turned into some dude ranch resort town either.

“Avy girl, only time will tell.” Lucy patted the menu and said, “Y’all let me know when you’re ready to order.”

***

Standing at the diner entrance, Marcus took his time removing his sunglasses and hooking them on the neck of his black t-shirt. He wasn’t surprised to see everyone sporting full western gear, with a heavy emphasis on black. The weekend celebration of Bandit Days had been the talk of the clinic since he’d arrived. He’d been instructed, firmly, to dress accordingly. He’d pulled on his black jeans, black t-shirt under an equally black denim shirt. He’d borrowed Kai’s cowboy hat, also black. The outfit had given him a chuckle. Bad Guy. Powerful Warlock. Not a big stretch.

He sensed the Gwynn witch’s location before he saw her sitting beside the window. He wasn’t sure if she was in costume. What was the difference between dressing up like a cowboy and being one? A beige felt cowboy hat and black jean jacket were hooked on the side of the bench seat and she was wearing faded western jeans, a t-shirt and cowboy boots that had obviously been used hard. She sat still as a statue, gazing out the window, although he doubted she was seeing the people passing by on the sidewalk or strolling in Ellis Park across the street.

Damn, she was hot... It wasn’t just the small but perfectly formed body, the silky mane of blond hair, or that perfect face. Her aura was more noticeable today. Still pale, but moving from bland beige towards gold. Could it be a trick of the sunlight from the window? Or is she gaining power for some reason?

He had too many questions and no answers. He probably should have reported her existence to the Witches Council last night. But she wasn’t what he’d been sent to Bandit Creek to investigate
.
He didn’t have the answer yet to who killed the Gwynn witches. Or why. He couldn’t deny Avy was a discovery worth reporting. On the other hand, he didn’t have anything to tell them about her either. He didn’t know how much magical power she ha
s
. How effectively she wield
s
it?
If
she even kn
o
w
s
about her parents’ past or The Otherland? And, of course, the cataclysmic question—d
oes
she know where her parents’ amulets
a
re hidden?
But,
unless he
can
secure the amulets, she could destroy the magical world and quite possibly the human one
, either i
ntentionally or unwittingly. It didn’t matter to him—the result was the same, and
so
he had to prevent it.

He signaled to Lucy for coffee as he headed towards his target. Avalon probably wasn’t aware how much her body language said. She looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her bowed shoulders. She hadn’t looked up with everyone else when the bell over the door announced his entrance. She seemed lost in thought.

He studied her as he walked to her table. He just couldn’
t get a fix on her.

She
wipe
d
at her eye as if to catch a tear before it fell. Had she been close to her parents? He was surprised to feel a spark of compassion for her. Council Guardians were descendants of the most powerful magical people, the warriors.
His
kind weren’t big on feelings.

As he reached her, he pulled off his hat before dropping into the bench seat across from her. “Starting without me?”

She jumped at his words but quickly smiled when she realized who it was. “Morning.”

As soon as he met her gaze, she stared at his eyes almost as if—

No. Marcus always used his best camouflage spell when he was on assignment to keep even other witches from seeing what he was. This one could not be seeing his eyes. The old saying about eyes being the window to the soul was particularly true for Council Guardians. Their magic was so strong it glowed behind their eyes giving them an alien color.

“Sun’s bright this morning?” He smiled as he pulled his sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them back on. Just in case. He tried to relax.

The little witch blinked and was about to say something when Lucy hustled over to their table with two ceramic mugs and a steaming pot of coffee. The older woman slid a mug in front of each of them. “Coffee?”

When they both nodded, she filled their mugs and laid a spoon beside each. Then she dug in her apron, pulled out a handful of creamers and laid them on the table. “Sugar’s over there,” she said, using her nose to indicate the glass container at the end of the table.

Avy wrapped both hands around the mug as if chilled and glanced back up at him. Her eyes were smudged. She probably hadn’t been sleeping since the murder. Again, he felt that peculiar stab of sympathy. What was happening to him?

He took a sip of his coffee to buy time to gather his thoughts as a hundred questions jumbled in his brain. He wished his family powers included mind reading. To find out what she was thinking, he had to get to know her. Really well. His assignment wasn’t going to be all hard work.

Finally, he said the first thing that came to mind. “So d’you live in Bandit Creek?”

She looked up at him to answer. “I grew up here but I left for college five years ago.”

Her low-keyed voice stirred the hair on his neck like the soft stroke of a hand. He struggled to get his act together. What was she doing to him? He had questions to ask, information he needed to get from her. He tried again, “Come home often?” Damn!

“What c’n I get ya?” Lucy appeared to take their order and he felt relieved. Relieved? What in hell was wrong with him? Tongue-tied, like a mortal fifth grader with a crush. He gave the server a forced smile and handed her the menu. “Rancher’s Breakfast, please Lucy.”

Avy passed her menu back as well. “Just the coffee and a cinnamon bun, please.”

“With or without icing?”

At that, Avy smiled at the woman. “With, of course.”

Lucy headed off to fill the order.

Avy leaned towards him, elbows on the table. “Did you find out anything about Busby’s owner?” Her concern for the dog darkened her blue eyes to the color of storm clouds.

“You know, in the country like this, a lot of dogs are just left to wander for any number of reasons.”

Marcus ignored the bite of guilt as he stalled. He needed the beast gone. The familiar could block his access to the witch. Cause him no end of trouble if he had to break into her house at some point.
But he hadn’t figured a way to separate them without bringing harm to either. Sometimes the Rules of Magic were damned inconvenient. “By the way, I didn’t see him outside.”