The Cupcake Coven (7 page)

“Still. You must have wondered why she wouldn’t tell you about your father.”

“Of course, but we learned not to ask. It just made people uncomfortable. Even after she passed away, no one told us anything we didn’t already know.”

“So, it sounds like you knew something…”

“Just that Shasta and I are full brother and sister. Our daddy must have stuck around for a few years. If anybody knows more, they promised not to tell us for whatever reason.”

Rebecca squeezed Dru’s hand. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what that’s like. My parents are crazy and irresponsible, but at least I know who they are.”

He shrugged. “It’s like a puzzle with a piece missin’. Not enough that you can’t see the big picture, but it niggles at you, just the same.”

Rebecca bit her lower lip. “So, what did you want to know about the coven?”

Changing the subject seemed like a good idea. “I saw Hanna snap her fingers and make the tools on the altar disappear. Then she snapped them again and the whole altar disappeared. Is that normal for all witches? Or is she just some kind of expert?”

Rebecca smiled. “She’s an expert. But there’s more to it, I know there is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember Michele? The girl who’s place you’re taking?”

“How could I forget her? I ruined her protection spell too, apparently.”

“Don’t worry. She can take care of herself. She has some pretty impressive magic too. She confided in me, so don’t go repeating any of this…okay?”

“Don’t worry. Another bit of cowboy wisdom says, ‘Never miss a good opportunity to shut up.’”

She chuckled but scratched her head as if trying to make sense of that. “Okay. Well, here it is. Michele told me when she was a child her mother and Hanna were good friends. Hanna showed them a goblet she guessed was made by some kind of alchemist in the middle ages. She said one sip from it would give a witch supernatural powers.”

“So Hanna must have filled it up and had a party?”

Rebecca chuckled. “No. She must have had a sip at one time, though. There were a few people who took care of it periodically, so nobody would know exactly where it was. As you can imagine, a lot of witches would love to get their hands on it.”

“I guess so.”

“I know so. The Stregareha witches are especially interested in finding it.”

“Who are the Stregareha witches?”

“Traditionally, they’re Italian. I imagine the American covens might have accepted members from other ethnic groups by now, but I don’t know for sure. They’re pretty secretive.”

“So gettin’ back to Michele and her mother,” Dru said. “Did Hanna give it to them to drink out of?”

“No. Michele thought she might have offered to make her mother one of the supernatural witches. But either her mom declined or that wasn’t Hanna’s intention at all.”

“Why else would she show it to her if she was supposed to keep it hidden?”

“Michele’s mom was sick at the time and eventually died. She may have wanted to cure her or something.”

“Michele doesn’t really know?”

“No. She wasn’t supposed to be listening. They thought she was happily occupied in the play room.”

He smirked. “I know how that goes. Shasta and I were always eavesdroppin’ on the adults. Did they ever find out she was listenin’ in?”

“Oh, yeah,” Rebecca said. “When they went to the kitchen to make tea, Michele snuck over to the table where they’d left it, and as soon as she touched it, it lit up like a Christmas tree.”

“Whoa. That must have scared her.”

“It made an impression. She never forgot it, even though she was only seven at the time.”

“Did that make Michele supernatural? And if so, why was she so scared?”

“As far as I know, Michele didn’t acquire any supernatural powers, but magic came to her easily. The reason she was so afraid is that a guy she had been dating was kicked out of the coven for using black magic.”

“And she was afraid of him?”

“Yeah. With good reason. He became obsessed with her, and when she tried to get away from him, he tried to kill her.”

Ah, so that’s why she did a spell for protection and freaked out when her bottle broke, leaving a stain that looked like blood all over the carpet.

“Can I walk you home?”

A small smile flickered across Rebecca’s face. “That’s sweet of you, but I think I’ll be okay. I live upstairs.”

“Oh! Convenient.”

“Yes. By the way, I have a key for you. That way I can keep working without having to keep an eye out for you every morning.”

“You trust me with a key to your home and business?”

“Just the business. The door to my apartment is locked, and until I have a chance to clean the place, it’ll stay that way.” She chuckled.

Dru was no closer to knowing what to do with Rebecca than he was ten minutes ago.
To kiss or not to kiss?
He never thought he’d have such a hard time with that question. Of course he
wanted
to kiss her. He’d wanted to all afternoon. But now, even though the awkwardness was gone, there was a table between them. His body cried out to hold her, to kiss her…to make love to her.

She had asked him to take the bread to the soup kitchen, and of course he’d agreed. If his sister had fallen on hard times, maybe lost her cell phone and all her money in a mugging or something, it was possible that was how she was surviving.

“Well, I guess that bread won’t deliver itself.” He rose from the table, smiling, and held out his hand to help her up too.

She grasped his hand and as soon as she was standing, he swooped in and kissed her. She responded instantly. Her hand slipped around his neck and her fingers clutched his hair. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

She opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue, meeting and swirling it with hers. He’d never had such an instant reaction to a woman before—especially one that seemed to completely reciprocate.

He caressed her until he felt the dip at the small of her back and she let out a little moan. His body wanted to explore hers more thoroughly, but he was a gentleman and refrained from squeezing her ass. Regardless, his primal urges wouldn’t leave him alone.

Dammit. I’ve got to get out of here, before I throw her down on the floor and have my nasty way with her.

He broke the kiss, but didn’t step away.

Her breasts were rising and falling. “Wow.”

“Funny. I was just thinkin’ the same thing.”

They grinned at one another. Dru let go, took a step back, and cleared his throat. “I’d better go before…” He didn’t quite know how to finish that sentence, but her nod said she understood.

“Uh-huh. Well, thanks for all your help today. Will I see you tomorrow?” Rebecca asked.

“Count on it.” He set his cowboy hat on his head and winked before he left the kitchen to gather up the day-old bread. It was time he concentrated on his real mission—finding Shasta.

Dru dropped off the bread at the homeless shelter, casting a furtive glance around the rooms. If Shasta had run out of money, she might be forced to stay in a place like this. The amount of people that could be housed there was staggering to him. However, it didn’t seem overcrowded at the time. Winter might be a different story.

He was both comforted and disappointed when he didn’t see her. He showed her picture to a couple of guys sitting out front and they just shook their heads. Maybe she had found someone who had taken her into their home. Someone kind, who was caring for her. He knew it was wishful thinking, but he needed to focus on good possibilities as well as bad.

Having completed his task, he set off for Myranda’s store. He wanted to find out when her next beginners course in Wicca was being held. Hopefully it wasn’t on a weekend, which was when Rebecca said her bakery is busiest.

He rounded the corner, whistling a tune that he remembered from childhood. It was a little ditty his mother used to sing to them, and anytime he was disappointed, he whistled it, fooling himself into thinking everything would be all right.

April stepped out of Mrs. Reese’s car and heard someone whistling a song that seemed vaguely familiar. It was almost as if she could predict what notes came next. Glancing in the direction of the sound, she saw a tall male figure disappear around the corner. She didn’t recognize what she saw of him.

“Well, thank you again for such a great day. I really love my new hair style.”

“It looks great on you. I’m glad you let them cut it short. It’ll be easier to manage.”

“Yeah.” A wet drop fell on her shoulder. The sky had looked threatening all the way back from Hampton Beach. “I guess I’d better get in there before the rain comes down and ruins it.”

“Good idea. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yup. See you tomorrow.” A few more splashes of rain fell on her, so she slammed the car door and ducked inside the shelter.

Dru’s cowboy hat protected his face from the rain, but his plaid shirt was getting soggy. He was glad Myranda’s shop wasn’t any farther away or he’d be soaked to the bone. Dashing inside, he almost bumped into the only other customer there and she looked like she was leaving.
Good. Maybe I can get enough privacy to talk to Myranda about Rebecca’s problem.

He knew he should stay out of it, but that was the trouble with caring. If he cared about what was happening to someone, he just had to say or do something to help. It was as much a part of who he was as his Texas twang.

“Hey, Myranda.”

She looked up from a catalogue and gave him a big smile. “Dru! Hey, yourself. I was thinking about you recently.”

“You were?”

“Of course.” She waved goodbye to the other customer, who was leaving. “Are you all right after what happened the other night?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m not so certain about Hanna’s altar items though.”

Myranda chuckled. “I thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head at first. She didn’t get mad at you, did she?”

“No, ma’am. She was right nice about it. I was sure I was goin’ to be asked to leave, but she just said I might need some classes. That’s why I’m here.”

“Excellent!”

Yvonne entered from the next room. “What’s excellent?”

Myranda rubbed her hands together. “Another victim,” she said. “Mwuahahaha.”

Dru must have looked surprised, because the woman burst out laughing.

“Only kidding, Dru. We have a basic Wicca class starting Saturday morning. Yvonne teaches it.”

“Is that a good time for you?” Yvonne asked.

He sighed. “Actually, that’s about the worst time. I’m helpin’ Rebecca out with her bakery since she’s all alone over there, and she said weekends are her busiest times.”

“Oh? Why is she alone?” Myranda asked.

“Her assistant quit to work at a grocery store where she could get benefits.”

“And you don’t need benefits?” Yvonne asked.

“Like what, health insurance?”

“Sure. That and maybe paid vacations?”

“My health plan is simple. ‘Don’t get sick.’ And as for vacations, I’m on one now. The paid part ran out, so it’s called a ‘leave of absence.’ My only benefit is seein’ Rebecca every day.”

“I guess you’re all set, then,” Myranda said.

“Pretty much, but I have a couple of problems. Maybe you can help with advice, even if I can’t take the classes.”

“Sure. We’ll try. What’s going on?”

“Well, one is about Rebecca’s business. Did y’all know she’s goin’ under?”

Yvonne raised her brows, but Myranda responded. “I’m not surprised. Did you hear that spell she cast?”

“Yeah. Something about wantin’ customers one, two, three.”

Myranda looked at him askance. “And how many paying customers did she have yesterday?”

Dru had a sinking feeling. “Uh…three. And all they bought was coffee, but they paid in cash.”

“How about today?”

He didn’t have to think too hard. She’d told him how many and what they’d bought. “She had three customers and sold three cupcakes.”

Yvonne groaned. “Why did she word it like that? She should know the Goddess is sometimes ridiculously literal.”

Dru straightened, feeling the urge to defend Rebecca, even though he’d thought the same thing. “She was afraid she’d be overwhelmed if everyone came at once and she was all by herself. Is there anything that can be done about it now, or does she have to wait until the next full moon?”

“Oh, no. She doesn’t have to wait. In fact, she should fix that right away.”

“Does she know how to undo a spell?”

“Well, yesterday I would have said so. I’m not so sure now.”

“How long has she been a witch?” Dru asked.

Yvonne and Myranda stared at each other as if figuring it out non-verbally.

“She took classes here maybe six or seven years ago, I think,” Yvonne said.

“Yeah. That sounds about right.” Myranda shook her head. “I thought I taught her better than that.”

Dru’s jaw dropped. “Six or seven years? Does it take that long to know what you’re doin’?”

“Not usually. It takes at least a year and a day of study before you can call yourself a priest or priestess.”

“That sounds pretty advanced.”

“Nope,” Yvonne said. “That’s basic. A witch should keep practicing and studying for a lifetime. There’s always more to learn.”

“And magic comes to some more easily than it does to others,” Myranda added. “A lot of it depends on how motivated a person is.”

“Hmmm…I thought I was motivated, but I had no idea it was so involved and would take so long.”

Myranda gave him a sad smile. “We probably should have talked more about your experience and ambitions when you came in the first time. You seemed to know a lot already, so I may have assumed you were further advanced than you were.”

“Yeah. I was motivated as you say, but most of what I learned was from the Internet and books, and a lot of them contradicted each other.”

“Yes. That happens,” Myranda said. “That’s why I recommend you pick a specific discipline and stick with that.” She smiled slyly. “By the way, how are you and Rebecca getting along?”

He couldn’t help smiling. “Like a house on fire.”

Myranda laughed. “I thought you might.”

“Was the attraction that obvious?”

She grinned. “Not to everyone, but Yvonne and I saw it, and I think Ethan did.”

He snapped his fingers. “Hey, maybe you can explain what Ethan said to me. When I said I wasn’t in the circle, he said, ‘Oh, yes you were.’”