Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1: Michelle

Chapter 2: Elron

Chapter 3: Michelle

Chapter 4: Elron

Chapter 5: Michelle

Chapter 6: Michelle

Chapter 7: Elron

Chapter 8: Michelle

Chapter 9: Michelle

Chapter 10: Michelle

Chapter 11: Michelle

Chapter 12: Michelle

Chapter 13: Michelle

Chapter 14: Michelle

Chapter 15: Elron

Chapter 16: Michelle

Chapter 17: Elron

Chapter 18: Michelle

Chapter 19: Michelle

Chapter 20: Michelle

Chapter 21: Michelle

Chapter 22: Michelle

Chapter 23: Michelle

Chapter 24: Elron

Chapter 25: Michelle

Chapter 26: Michelle

Chapter 27: The Forest Spirit

Chapter 28: Michelle

Chapter 29: Michelle

Chapter 30: Elron

Chapter 31: Michelle

Also by N. E. Conneely

About the Author

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WITCH FOR HIRE

N. E. Conneely

Copyright © 2014 N. E. Conneely

All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or author. Requests for permission to copy part of this work for use in an educational environment may be directed to the author. This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons or locales, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art: Kit Foster

http://www.kitfosterdesign.com

To Writers Anonymous, other people like me.

To Ean, for making it to The End.

To Dad, for telling me to make it happen.

To the Dragons, Witches, Elves, and Werewolves.

Chapter 1: Michelle

Phone. That had to be my phone waking me up. My hand swept across the nightstand until it found the vibrating hunk of silicone. "Hello?"

"Michelle, it's Gordon from the Cobb County Sheriff's Office. We need you to deal with some illegally bred magical creatures." The sound of barking and shouting followed his voice.

"What are they?"

"We don't know. I can tell you what they look like. Henry was one of the responding, and he's never heard of these things. I think they're new."

"Ugh." I rolled out of bed to start getting dressed. Henry was an old vampire. I'm not sure how old, but old enough for me to take his word on something like this. "Gordon, tell me what these things look like."

"I'd say someone found the stupidest Chihuahua in the city and then did something to give it wings and magic."

"Great. How do I get there?" I wrote down the address and a few directions. "That's the mayor's place, isn't it?"

"Yup, and he's not happy." Gordon hung up without saying good-bye, police etiquette at its finest.

I dropped the phone on the bed, glancing at the clock as I stumbled to the bathroom. Illegal magical creatures harassing the mayor at three in the morning weren't a great start to my day.

Twenty minutes after being rudely awakened, I was rolling down the road with black tea in my mug and a bagel in my hand. I turned the radio on a pop station and sang along for most of the forty-minute drive. The combination of music and caffeine would keep me awake.

The road was suddenly lined with cops, ambulances, and fire trucks. I kept rolling until I was in the driveway. They had left a spot for me, knowing I needed my car because I had extra supplies in the trunk. I pulled the duffel out of the passenger seat and slid out of the car. Yips, barks, and growls assaulted my ears.

It wasn't hard to spot Gordon on the manicured lawn in front of the sprawling brick house with a man who had to be the mayor—bathrobes weren't work attire. What Gordon lacked in height he gained in width; his shoulders deserved their own zip code. He was an ideal cop, a big, strong but not overly intimidating protector. The other man was chubby, with gray hair mussed from sleep and swaddled in a large terry bathrobe.

I started over to them only to hear barking right behind me. I ducked, running forward a few steps before looking up. He hadn't been kidding. These things really did look like big Chihuahuas with wings emerging off their withers, and this one wasn't neutered. As I watched, the critter charged an officer who whipped up a riot shield to block it from hitting him. The air sparkled around the Chihuahua as he passed right through the shield, raking nails on the dodging officer's neck. No wonder they needed me.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," I politely interrupted when they didn't see me approach, "but I'm here to help with the pest problem."

Before Gordon had a chance to speak, the mayor demanded, "Are you the witch woman? What took you so long? These things have been here for three hours!"

"Sir, Miss Oaks was only called in sixty-eight minutes ago, and she had a forty-minute drive from her house. We weren't called until these creatures"—he waved his hand at the circling, barking Chihuahuas—"had already failed to be rounded up by your security."

I waited a fraction of a second before speaking, not wanting to give the rude man another chance to cause a problem. "I'm here now. I need to speak to Gordon, and then I'm going to get these things out of your way." I stepped between the men and gently herded Gordon away, leaving the mayor looking speechless. Too bad. I couldn't do my job with him scolding me.

"Where's Jerry?"

Gordon rubbed his temples, looking tired and aggravated. Then again, Gordon usually looked tired and aggravated. I'd asked him once why he did the job if he hated it so much, and he had smiled, replying that the job wasn't the problem; people were the problem.

"You're lucky he won't remember you, because he holds a grudge," Gordon said.

I shrugged. In the future, I would be more careful, but he had noisier problems tonight.

"Jerry is in the ambulance over there." He pointed to the one closest to the house. "He's fine. You can go talk to him, but when he tried a few spells and got one into a spelled cage, it blasted its way out and he was burned."

This was good news, though not for Jerry. The critters hadn't removed the magic from the cage, just destroyed the object the magic was attached to and the spell as a result. I could spell the metal to prevent them from breaking the cages. If they'd undone the spells on the cages, it would have been more difficult to contain them. "How many of these pests are there?"

"Eight."

"Send someone over with two medium cages."

Gordon walked away to start clearing out the excess personnel and find help for me. I set down my bag before walking to the ambulance. Jerry was a sight, covered in bandages and a bit scorched. Not that Jerry was the neatest person, but normally his rumpled uniform didn't have charred portions and holes. His thin frame and pale complexion weren't helped by his injuries.

"Jerry, you look terrible."

He gave half a grin. "Thanks, hon. I feel about the same."

"Why are you still here?"

He winced as he shifted on the gurney. "'Cause I'm the only one who can tell you how those creations of Narzel are casting spells. They aren't doing actual spells; it's more like they're bending things to their will. It looks like an aura of magic that helps them do what they want."

I smothered a smile. Narzel was a trickster from human legends, known for playing tricks and making jokes that frustrated and angered most people. "Thanks, Jerry." A lot of things had similar effects. Plants grew better when elves were in residence, and stuff didn't clutter as much if a brownie was around. "Now, you let these paramedics take you to the hospital, okay? I'll take care of those vermin." I ruffled his hair, watching him relax as the paramedics closed the ambulance.

It was fortunate the road had a big grassy shoulder. Both sides of the pavement were lined with various emergency vehicles, except the part of the driveway occupied by my car. Even with the off-road space, there was only a lane and a half for traffic to pass through, but I doubted many cars would be traveling at this time of night. The entire scene suited the big colonial brick house; it looked to be holding court over a colorful herd of cars.

There were two main ways witches cast spells: I could directly manipulate the energy to set spells, or use runes. Runes were an ancient and powerful language witches used to shape magic while adding power. Directly building spells took more energy and focus, but was often faster and allowed witches to create spells without knowing how to form the construct using runes.

Back on the lawn, I pulled a fake steak and my oak wand out of the duffel. Runes would get in the way today because the spells were simple and limited in focus. I had just laid the first spell on the meat, one that wouldn't let the critters leave a five foot area around the steak once they entered it, when Henry glided over carrying the two cages.

"I was the least likely to be injured by these things." He flashed fangs as he smiled. "I also have the fastest reflexes of anyone here."

"Are you sure you didn't volunteer? You like this stuff; it's why you became a cop."

"I'll never tell."

I chuckled and started spelling the cages so creatures couldn't get out. Then I put the last three spells on the plastic. One spell made the fake meat smell like hot cooking steak, a second spell stuck it to the ground, and the third one made it immune to harm.

Finishing the spells, I looked around, not seeing any of the little beasties. Even magically enhanced, it would take the smell a few minutes to filter around to the back of the house where I thought the barking was originating. Before long I heard a change in barking, and the entire pack charged around the side of the house. All eight of them were racing, little bodies straining with teeth snapping at each other and wings flapping furiously. Twice during their headlong race for the meat I saw the air sparkle right before one of them dropped back after being hit by magic.

"Brace yourself," Henry warned me.

I nodded and settled in for the fight. The little things zoomed into the containment spell and went right for the meat. Henry and I rushed to action. We didn't have long before they realized we were trapping them. All eight of them were in a wriggling group, snapping at each other and trying to drag the meat away.

I created a shield bubble around one of them and pushed it into the cage. Henry snagged one out of the air after it had been foolish enough to separate from the pack and thrust it into the other cage. Henry had just grabbed his second one when they realized what was going on and scattered. Five angry bodies rushed the containment spell. Four of them hurled themselves at it, but the last one turned to attack Henry's back.

"No you don't." I slapped a shield bubble around it, rolling it into my cage. Two of mine down, two to go. I could feel the four loose critters pushing at the spell, but they weren't even close to breaking through. I also held the shield bubbles on the two I'd put in the cage to keep them from escaping. Henry was fast enough that his wouldn't escape, but I wasn't going to bet on my reflexes.

Two of the beasties moved close enough together that I could grab both of them with a shield bubble and push them into the cage before dissolving all the shield bubbles and locking the cage.

"All done over here. Do you want me to take these to the car?" Henry asked.

"Sure," I said, standing up. "These guys are ready to go."

"I'll have them out of here in a jiffy." Henry scooped up one in each hand and glided off.

I unwound all the spells on the plastic meat, shoved it and my wand into my bag, and zipped it up. It struck me as odd that these things had found the mayor's house. There weren't a lot of houses around and certainly not homes of people who would create something like this. In fact, the nearest houses looked to be a quarter of a mile away in every direction. I sent out a pulse of energy, like a ripple in a pond, sensing nothing. Casual observation wouldn't reveal the cause.

I tried to shake off the feeling that I might be missing something and scooped my duffel off the dew-laden grass.

"Oaks!"

I looked up to see Gordon walking over in the dark. My eyes traveled the road, now nearly empty. One ambulance, the hazardous creatures truck, two patrol cars, and my car were the only vehicles left. The woods had resumed their dark and stately appearance, shadowing the world around them.

"What was the deal with those critters?" Gordon was human and had not a drop of magical talent. He was the sergeant in charge of magical responses because he was great at problem solving and getting different races to work together.

Some things were hard to explain to humans. Just because they lived in a world where everyone else was magical didn't mean they really understood magic. "Think of it as an aura that extended a few inches around their body that allowed them to bend things to their will. They weren't casting spells as Jerry or I would, but they were bending things to their will."

"What do I tell animal control?" He looked frustrated.

"You've got what, a few fey and some elves working there?"

"Yup."

"Tell them they have magic and a bad temperament." I looked him straight in the eyes.

"You're serious?" His eyebrows climbed an inch.

"The fey can handle anything those stupid creatures dish out. We've sent more dangerous things to them, and they've been fine. I wouldn't worry about it, but you might want better cages."

He dropped his gaze. "You're right. I just hate dealing with new species." He stumbled over the last word, like he hated to apply that term to those vermin. I couldn't blame him a bit. "I'll see what I can find in the budget for cages. Paying the bill for an injured officer might persuade the bean counters."

"Perhaps. I'm done here, so I'm heading out." I did some quick math in my head. Cobb had hired me for fifty hours at the beginning of the year. "Middle-of-the-night emergency calls count for double time, so you have about six more hours of my time paid for." I grabbed my damp duffel and headed to my car. I had other appointments to make.

"Seriously, Oaks?"

"You bet. I never joke about my business." I slid into the car and headed off.

I had an appointment in Forsyth later in the morning, but I couldn't justify driving home for ten minutes before leaving again. I called the hedge-wizard in Forsyth and left a message, telling him I'd be early.

One of the problems with consulting in a variety of places was the travel time. I didn't want to live in Atlanta, but the departments that needed me most and were most willing to pay were the ones near, but not in, the city. I compromised by living in Canton, forty minutes from the city, but driving a lot. I loved where I lived. It had a nice garden that flowed into an old forest to perform rituals in, and I never awakened to smog or traffic.

A billboard caught my eye. "Freedom of Religion, Freedom of Culture! Free the Trolls!" I turned my eyes back to the road, still chuckling. Not all races were treated equally; in fact, none of them were. Trolls ate other people, dead or alive. They had been moved to preserves, where they ate the newly dead and animals. Hardly a troll's preferred diet, but the rest of the races had decided that this was the best for them, mostly because it was the only way to prevent their own extinction. A few nut jobs still thought that trolls should be free. The rest of us were happier not needing protection all the time and not having a relative with an obituary listing "Troll" as cause of death.

Two hours, a cup of tea, and a donut later, I rolled in to the Forsyth office at eight in the morning.

"Jones, I'm here." I thumped down into the chair in front of his desk. Jones, the department's hedge-wizard, was a round, bald, middle-aged man.

"Oh, hey, thanks for coming in early."

"No problem, I had to rearrange my day."

"Are you ready to look at the goods?"

"Sure." I followed him back to the magical workroom. Forsyth had a small room devoted to dealing with magic objects. It was spelled to contain any magical accidents and kept the harmful stuff away from everyone.

He had promised that this would be worth my time and interesting enough for two cases. Laid out on the table was the better part of a kitchen's worth of goods: a toaster, a coffee maker, a frying pan, and a full tea service.

"Where did you get this stuff?"

Jones rocked back on his heels, grinning. "Here and there. None of it is going to cling to your power or anything, so just humor me and sense them out."

I glared at him. Most days this would be fun, but today it was just annoying. "You know I don't like to work that way." He kept grinning. "Fine, I'll do this your way."

"Deal."

I stretched out a tendril of power, letting it hover over the toaster. Not that I could get much information unless my power touched it, but I knew it had been spelled. Relaxing, my power touched the toaster. Ah, it caught fingers, but only when removing toast. It was a painful trick, though more mischievous than anything.

Moving to the coffee maker, I repeated the process. Someone had spelled the coffee maker to give people the flu.

The frying pan could heat itself, but only to one setting. Either the spell had been damaged or the caster just cooked on high. Annoying, but only dangerous to your dinner.

Finally, I investigated the tea set. This was a different level of sophistication. Each piece of the set had a different talent. If you added sugar from the sugar cup to a drink, it made the drinker more willing to believe your words. Adding milk would encourage strength of will, and the honeypot inspired romance. If you were brave enough to add lemon, the tea would be dosed with bitterness. Each of the teacups had a different talent, bringing joy, sorrow, sympathy, and anger.

I reeled my power back in. "Okay, I played the game. The toaster grabs fingers, the coffee maker gives you the flu, the pan heats itself, and the tea set induces emotions. Where did you find them?"

"You felt more than that, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did, but I've been up since three, Jones. I can't do games today." Sighing, I plopped down in the chair sitting beside the table. The room looked a lot like a chemistry lab, with tables lining the walls and cabinets overflowing with supplies. There were several types of fire extinguishers, a safety shower, an eyewash, and a giant first aid kit strapped to a wall.

"Sorry." He settled into the chair next to mine. "We've been collecting these from across the county. Some old lady died, natural causes, and her kids held a yard sale to get rid of her stuff. Apparently, the old lady was a bit of a tinkerer and hedge-witch. I don't think we've gotten everything, but with her dead and her kids ignorant of the old woman's hobby, we didn't have a crime that anyone was willing to prosecute. I just need to find the stuff she charmed."

Items like this were tricky. I could undo or cleanse most of these spells, but it would be hard to be sure they were clean. "I can fix these, but I would still send them through the plasma gun. If you atomize these things, nothing will survive. It's not like the department can make much money selling them."

"Nope, but it sure costs money to send things through the gun." He sighed, his bushy brows scrunching. "I think we still have some of the free space they gave us left, but I hate to use it for these. Would the crusher be good enough?"

I mentally slapped myself. The lack of sleep was showing. None of these had the tenacity or danger that would require the plasma gun. The crusher would be fine and much more affordable for the department. They needed to save that free space for something really dangerous. "I don't know what I was thinking. Send them to the crusher."

"All right. I'm going to go do paperwork while you deal with this."

I waved my acknowledgment as he left. Removing magic was tricky. There were several ways to do it, each with different risks and benefits. You could unknit the spells, overload them with energy, or rip the magic off the object. None of these spells had seemed powerful, but I was going to check them more closely before I tried to remove the magic. I really wasn't in a good frame of mind to delicately unknit the spells; I was just going to yank them apart and disperse the energy.

It took two hours because some of them had been stubborn, but by nine thirty all the spells had been removed. I handed Jones my notes as I left. It was an hour drive home, where I could grab some lunch, nap and then clear up some paper work before heading to bed early if nothing else came up.

I kept switching the music, but I could feel my eyes falling closed and my body relaxing into sleep when I neared the thirty-minute mark. Four hours of sleep just wasn't enough. I'd been up and moving for six hours now and was ready for a rest. A trip that usually took two hours lasted nearly three.

After coasting into my parking spot, I sat for a moment, letting the tranquility of the house soak into me. The land was covered with elegant decorations and charming gardens that begged to be explored. The house—more of a lodge, really—was built of rough-hewn logs. Two wings sheltered the sides of the covered porch, protecting it from the weather. It was four steps up to the porch and eight feet to the oak door.

It wasn't my house. It was owned by a brownie couple who maintained it and rented out suites. There were a few long-term renters like me, but it also functioned as a bed-and-breakfast to people and magical creatures passing through. A renter, like myself, was entitled to two meals a day, which made up for the microscopic kitchen. Being something of an indifferent or terrible cook, those kept me from eating fast food every day.

I walked inside, barely pausing to wipe my feet on the mat. I swung to the right and stumbled into the dining room. Hardly looking at the long table or who might be at it, I made a beeline for the tea and slurped down half a mug. The hot, caffeinated beverage forced my eyes open and gave my movement some energy. While topping off my mug, I looked around and saw two unicorns, a dwarf, and five shifters. I forked out a salad at the buffet and joined the group.

"I don't understand why President Ederin hasn't put a stop to these reparations lawsuits. The humans have been free and mostly equal for the past three hundred years. There isn't a human alive that remembers slavery." The dwarf finished with a flourish of his fork.

I munched down a bite of lettuce. President Ederin was a bit of a mystery, but that was true of all dragons. To be fair to the humans, there wasn't a country in the world that was ruled by them, or viewed them as equals. Every country was ruled by dragons, vampires, witches, elves, dwarves, dark elves, orcs, fey, shifters, goblins, or giants. As for the humans, they were short lived and had been enslaved, but equality was a relative term. Yes, they had all the same rights, but they didn't have magic. They tried to compensate with technology and innovation. Regardless of their legal state, they were still the dumb younger race to most of the world.

"You know dragons see time differently. Ederin is old, even for that exceptionally long-lived race. He has a soft spot for hopeless causes and new races. Why do you think he agreed to rule this land for the humans and others? No one else who was here wanted to, and they needed protection." The unicorn with the longer horn snorted into his oats. Unicorns couldn't speak with words, but they did speak mind to mind with anyone they pleased.

Deciding this was a great time to shift the conversation I interrupted, "How long are all you here for? I'm Michelle, by the way."

The smaller unicorn, who looked pregnant, nodded her understanding. The first unicorn answered, "I'm Enethre. This is Elise. We came to make arrangements to stay here next week. Elise is close to term. We are staying close because we do not want to be caught without shelter when the time comes." He gently nuzzled his wife.

After a stare down between two of the men, the older one spoke. "We are of the Manachar pack." From their interaction, I gathered they were werewolves because few other groups had dominance struggles, or were so pack oriented. "We are staying here for a few days but are waiting for the right time to perform a ritual." Werewolves were a secretive bunch, but from the group dynamics I could lay my money on an alpha trial, coming-of-age ritual, or mating call.

The dwarf pulled a bread crumb from his beard. "Well, I'm staying here while I attend a conference in Kennesaw about smelting. I am called Aksi. How 'bout you, lass?"

I quickly swallowed my mouthful of food. "I live here, but if you're asking what I do, I'm a witch. I work with the police to provide magical assistance." Now, we were in danger of straying into territory that I didn't want to explore. "I saw a 'Free the Trolls' billboard today. Do any of you know what group is behind it? I thought the movement had died out a few years ago when a few members of the last group—I think it was Trolls Today—tried to live with them and were eaten."

With a glance at the first werewolf who had spoken, one of the other wolves commented. "I heard it's a group of humans. HATE, Humans Against Troll Enclosures. Apparently, the past seven years has been enough time for them to forget why trolls are in the preserves to begin with."

"I don't want them to do anything stupid. There's a preserve in Forsyth that I'd rather not have to visit," I said.

"Lass, I still remember when my fifth cousin, Tharish, was eaten by a troll. I have no sympathy for those beasts, but I haven't heard that this new group would use illegal means to free the trolls." Aksi stuffed the last of a cranberry muffin in his mouth, brushing crumbs off his beard as he chewed.

"It is not unknown for one of their kind to eat one of ours. We find the world to be less dangerous for the young with the trolls removed from society."

Enethre had a valid point; unicorns were fragile until they hit puberty, and even then they weren't the sturdiest things around. I finished off my salad and grabbed a muffin off the buffet. I hadn't realized they were there until I saw Aksi finish his.

"I would worry less about the trolls, young one. I heard someone has a few of us more magical creatures and was experimenting."

"Really? Did any of these experiments use mundane creatures as well?" Another reason I liked this place, good information was easy to find.

"The earth has whispered such things to me. I have also heard that this individual resides at the southern edge of Cherokee County."

I gave him a half bow, the best I could do at the table. Unicorns rarely give out information. This person must have harmed a unicorn for them to help me. "I have heard, and I will investigate."

Enethre dipped his head in acknowledgment; they weren't the traditional words, but the meaning was conveyed.

I caught myself yawning and realized I was past due for a nap. I excused myself from the table and headed to my room. I loved being on the ground floor, especially the last room on the hall. I didn't have anyone to my left, and the world was to my right. I even had a nice door at the end of the hall that spilled into the most beautifully canopied garden that was perfect for my ceremonies and rituals. No one else spent as much time in that garden as I did, and I loved that it was mine; I even had a small altar.

I let myself into my room, dumping my purse on the counter before heading back to my bedroom. The apartment was small, with a tiny kitchen and dining room to the left of the door, and the living room straight ahead. To the right of the door was a coat closet, and just past that was the door to my bedroom. I pried off my shoes and slipped under the covers without undressing.

Chapter 2: Elron

These were happy woods. The entire place was happy, from the house to the gardens to the woods, but this one little garden had something extra. It was excited, something odd for plants and trees. They were prone to joy, happiness, sorrow, and tranquility, but not something as active as excitement. Someone had spent a lot of time here, and a bit of their personality had seeped into the place. That someone was excited about life, and probably young. Strange, few youth of any race knew enough to transmit their feelings.

The trees whispered about a person, moving and bending with change. The plants gossiped about tenderness shown to them, but the air breathed words of rage and despair into my ear. The plants didn't know gender, but I got the impression of a woman, a young woman. The altar indicated she was a witch, a good witch. What all of them said was that she wasn't trying to influence them; they just liked her.

I settled, cross-legged on the ground, found the quiet spot inside my mind, and simply existed. Meditation was difficult to learn, but once learned it was soothing to simply be or focus on a single problem. It was one of the few things that had brought me peace since I lost my wife. I hadn't valued the lessons in meditation until I had reason to escape from my thoughts.

At one thousand five hundred years, I was middle-aged to old. Elves rarely lived past three thousand, not because of old age but because we became dissatisfied with the world or saddened by the loss we had experienced. Health-wise, I was still in my prime, but I had lost my mate two hundred years ago. The years without her had not been happy or fun. My friends had done their best to help me, mostly ensuring I lived, but I wasn't sure if I was thankful to my friends for keeping me in this world.

Those were choices made long ago and not why I was settled in this garden. I turned my mind back to cities, unsure if I could live in a city, but I needed to reconnect with the world and the job nearby was a good opportunity.

Elves were creatures of the woods. The woods I'd lived in were seldom touched by foreign hands. Elven forests were a sanctuary for creatures that wanted to live in harmony with nature. For many years, I had believed cities were unnatural, parasitic creatures on the beautiful facade of nature. The last time I lived in a city, brief as the time may have been, was before the Industrial Revolution.

Cities were different then. They were still unclean, with many people in an area much too small, but they were more connected to nature than modern cities. Today, even this far from the city, I could still feel the alteration it had imposed upon the world. There was concrete, asphalt, metal, smog, fog, and very little connection with the earth.

Realizing I would reach a more informed decision after the interview, I stood up and let my eyes soak in one last view of the garden for the evening. Behind me a door clicked open, quickly clicking shut again. I pivoted to see who it was, pleasantly surprised to see a young woman with wavy brown hair swirling just below her shoulders. She had an athletic build and lovely curves. Walking, she studied the path in front of her feet. A fraction of a second before she would have hit me, I grabbed her shoulders.

"Slow down."

The woman jerked backward, gasping.

"No reason to fear, darling. I'm just keeping you from colliding with me." Her eyes were the most striking green, accenting her small nose, perfectly sized mouth, and curving brows.

She stumbled back, fumbling for words. "My apologies. I didn't realize anyone else was here." She rubbed her hands down her hips and thighs. "I'm Michelle. Are you just here for a few days or are you leasing?"

"Don't worry. You didn't do any harm. I only plan to be here a few days." I smiled at her.

"If you will excuse me, mister…?"

I didn't answer.

"I would like to go to the altar." She pointed behind me.

"You're the witch?" I wanted to know who had influenced this piece of the earth.

"Yes." She sounded tentative.

"What clan are you from?" Witch clans were funny. Some of them were very open and friendly to other races. Others were more traditional.

"It's not important." Michelle started to edge around me.

"It was just a simple question. What clan are you from?" Most witches loved to brag about their clans.

"What's your name? It's just a simple question." She glared at me as she asked.

"You may call me Elron. Now you can answer my question." I was amused; few questioned me this way.

She stiffened. "I don't have a clan."

Michelle tried to dodge past me, and I let her slide by. "How did you come to be without a clan?"

"That, Elron, is none of your business." She turned her back to me and settled in front of the altar.

"I'll see you at dinner," I called out behind me as I returned to the lodge. Reaching my room, I realized I was whistling. I didn't know the last time I had whistled.

Chapter 3: Michelle

The dratted elf walked into the dining room seconds after I sat down. What business of his was it if I didn't have a clan? It wasn't often I regretted my upbringing, but being questioned about clans stirred unhappy feelings.

I'm a witch, but a witch without a clan. Mom had been expelled from her clan before I was born because she wouldn't say who my father was. The clan elders had ruled that he must have been human. Unfortunately for my mom, she wasn't much of a witch, and breeding with a human was against clan law. I'm not sure who my dad was, but he wasn't around. I've always thought he was from a clan hers didn't favor because I sure had magic and lots of it. I'd always wondered if the clan would have kept us around if they'd known how much magic I would have.

Regardless, without a clan I couldn't have a job working with other witches since I didn't know which clans might have a grudge against the clanless, my mother, or father. Most witches don't want to do police work, so I was in luck. All the departments need witches, or someone with active magic, but few had more than a hedge-practitioner on staff. I didn't want to be a police officer, so I set up a consulting firm and hired myself out to several departments. Some departments paid a retainer, some a case-to-case fee, but enough departments paid.

His annoying self had interrupted me every time I tried to work during the two hours between being in the garden and dinner. I eyed him as he gathered food. He had one night written all over him. If I ate breakfast in my room tomorrow, I probably wouldn't have to see him except very quickly over lunch. I could even grab an early lunch and eat it in my room. He'd be gone by dinner.

"Excuse me. Michelle, is it?"

I jerked up from staring into my lasagna, eyes focusing on a werewolf who had tried several times to get my attention. "Oh, sorry. What did I miss?"

"We were hoping to purchase an injury charm from you. Would you have any we could buy?"

"How strong of one do you need?" I had several of those, all different strengths, but I didn't want to part with some of my better ones. I liked to keep them for personal use. Fortunately, I hadn't needed to use a powerful one yet.

"Small broken bone, bad bruising, that type of a thing." The werewolf was looking at me intently. I understood. Fights between their kind could get ugly, and accidents happened when they were fighting. Injury while hunting was common as well, and no one wanted to see someone die because of one misstep. With their natural healing abilities, a small boost would go a long way.

"Sure. I'll bring it down after I eat. No charge." That type of charm wasn't hard to make or material intensive.

I kept eating, trying very hard not to end up in a conversation with the elf. The unicorns, true to their word, had left, but I thought I would see them again. The dwarf was missing, but I figured he was at the smelting conference. Priscele, a wood nymph, had come in for dinner. She was another long-term resident but had a very small room, more of a space with a bed, opening into the woods. She didn't spend much time in the lodge, but she said she enjoyed it in the winter. In her words, winter is for creatures with thick furry coats, not luscious ladies like herself. Right now, she was trying to tempt one of the quieter wolves into spending some time with her.

"I would love to spend more time with one who has become so attuned to the creatures of the woods." Priscele leaned toward the wolf and batted her pretty green eyes. I rolled mine.

"I'm not sure I'm attuned to them so much as I hunt and eat them." The werewolf was starting to look panicked. His pack mates were shouldering each other and chuckling, clear signs of enjoying his discomfort.

"Surely one must be attuned to the creatures to hunt them so effectively." She stroked his arm.

Narzel, this was sickening but amusing at the same time. The elf caught my eye. He was a pretty elf. His ears came to a delicate point, as if someone had pinched a human's ears and they had stayed that way. His hair was silver, a straight, shining sheet all the way to his waist. He was slender, like all elves, but he had muscle on him.

"Silly, isn't she?" He was looking right at me. I couldn't get out of this one.

"It's in her nature. Besides, isn't the idea of a spirit of the woods and a woodland hunter getting together funny?"

His eyes twinkled. "Perhaps, but I also think you are being very kind with that charm. They take skill to make."

"I make a good living, and I wouldn't want them to do without." I looked back at my food.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a police consultant. I provide the extra magic they need at a lower cost than the witching firms for most things. Some things just require several witches, but those are rare."

"Fascinating. Is it a trait of the young to be so enterprising?" He looked interested, and he wasn't asking about my clan so I humored him, sort of.

"Many of us need to make our way in the world, or have you forgotten that in your many years? How many years would that be?" I smiled as I finished.

"Ah, into older men, I take it? I assure you, I am your elder, but if you were wondering our precise age gap I would need to know your age." He smiled back. It was breathtaking.

"Twenty-five. I try not to be involved with people who pass through. It's bad for the heart and hard on the sheets."

A chuckle rolled out of him, bringing a smile to my face. "Been saving that one, haven't you?" He chuckled a bit more before continuing, "There are roughly one thousand five hundred twenty years between us. Is that old enough for you?"

"Too old for me. Few of my kind live that long, and you could live another thousand years or more." I turned to my dessert, a nice slice of key lime pie.

"Healthy eating, really. Genetics has far less to do with it than healthy eating." He popped the last grape into his mouth. "Good night. Don't forget that charm." He whistled as he walked off.

As he moved out of my sight, I looked down, realizing I had stabbed through the very center of my pie. I finished the pie with significantly less zeal than I'd started with, halfheartedly participating in the conversation. Good eating indeed. I didn't think elves could get fat, healthy diet or not. After I finished my food, I quickly retrieved two charms for the wolves. Brushing off their thanks, and the pout of Priscele, I headed back to my apartment.

I never slept well when I was upset. I would toss and turn, falling into a real sleep just as the alarm went off. It was unpleasant and left me grumpy. Tiredness was dragging at me again, and I had lots of paperwork to do tomorrow. With those thoughts in mind, I walked past the door to my apartment, hoping Elron wasn't in the garden to annoy me.

Something showed me favor because the garden was empty. I knelt down and opened myself to the earth and moon. Twenty minutes later, feeling calm enough to sleep, I went to bed.

I dreamed of silver hair, an elusive smile, and whistling. I dreamed those elegant hands were holding me close. I woke up in an evil mood, angry that he had invaded my life and my dreams, even angrier since dreams usually had meaning for me. It was one of the problems with being a witch. Dreams were seldom simply dreams.

Breakfast was in my room because of my mood. The tattered bagel could attest to the dangers of my temper. Later, I gratefully attacked some paperwork, not in the mood to see people. It might be annoying and stubborn, but it wouldn't talk back. My mind wasn't fully on my task, but by lunch I had accomplished most of my day's to-do list. I snuck down, grabbed a plate to take back to my room, and managed not to see a single person in the process. I finished my paperwork, still grumpy but triumphant in my isolation.

Remembering what the unicorn had told me, I called Gordon.

"Gordon."

"It's Michelle. I have a tip for you about the source of the disturbance at the mayor's house."

"Really? That would make my day. Though your sources tend to be vague."

"This is better than most."

"It better be," he grumbled.

"If you'd let me talk, you'd have the information by now. A unicorn staying at the lodge told me there was someone experimenting with magical creatures who lives in the southern part of Cherokee where it borders Cobb County."

"You called to tell me that?"

"Come on. Now you know there's someone breeding these things and an area to search. As tips go, this is a good one."

"Fine, but I hate coordinating searches between two counties."

"Be that as it may, this is good information."

He grunted. "Thanks, Michelle. Oh, those critters you captured are being sterilized and are on their way to a permanent home."

"Good." I loved knowing I've helped a creature have a better life.

"Thanks for the information. We'll get back to you if we find anything off the tip."

"Good luck."

After getting off the phone, I wasn't sure what to do with the rest of my afternoon until I looked outside. Passing up a sunny afternoon that I didn't need to work would've been criminal. I strapped on my shoes and headed out to jog one of the trails behind the lodge. It was cool this time of year, with fall starting to turn into winter, so I grabbed a light jacket.

I loved being outside with the leaves falling all around me. It was like I was a princess and all the trees were laying down a path of gold, yellow, orange, and red for me to traverse. Forty-five minutes in wonderland left me striding back to the lodge breathless but filled with peace and joy.

Chapter 4: Elron

For the first time in two hundred years, I didn't lose sleep because of unhappy memories that preferred to haunt me at night but from nerves. A person my age shouldn't spend an entire night with sweat running down them, or shivers creeping up them, from thoughts of doing something new. I hadn't had many new experiences since my mate died. The only new thing I'd really experienced was grief. I didn't think I would be focused on that tomorrow.

Dawn arrived all too swiftly. The sleepless night was best left behind, but I didn't want to face the interview. I hurried through my morning tasks and was sitting in the dining room, regretting that speed all too soon. I was hungry, but every bite of fruit tasted too sweet before turning my stomach upside down.

"Nervous, are you?" Landa set a box of cereal on the sideboard.

"It shows?"

"Only to one who knows you. It brightens my heart to see you here again. I wasn't sure I would."

"Neither was I." I looked her in the eye. "But I'm glad I am."

"That is some fine news. I'll be right back." She walked into the kitchen to bring something else out.

"Have you been to this Kennesaw University before?" I could trust what Landa said about this place.

Her voice was muffled as she called back, "Yes. And like any other place, it has good intentions and you see people of every type." She returned carrying a basket of bagels, muffins, and scones. "Well, mostly good intentions. They want to educate and explore the boundaries, especially of science. I'm not sure everything should be poked at and dissected to see how it works. There are many marvels in this world; some of them should stay marvels." Once the basket was on the table, she placed a blueberry muffin on a plate.

"I agree. Humans want to figure everything out. They are unwilling to let something be."

"Have a muffin; it will sit better than the fruit." She whisked away the remains of my first dish, leaving me staring at the muffin. A brown bag appeared next to me. "You'll be hungry later, and I doubt you'll be done before lunch. This will tide you over."

"Thank you, Landa."

"Not a problem, dear. Now, I must go finish breakfast. A few other guests came in late last night and will be down shortly." I leaned down so she could give me a kiss on the cheek. "Good luck, Elron."

"Thank you, Landa, and thank you for the food." She waved as she walked back into the kitchen, and I headed outside.

I eyed the car before I sat down. Landa had been right about the muffin. I settled the bag she'd given me in the passenger seat with the directions. Breathing deeply, I started the car. I still wasn't accustomed to driving these blasted machines even with the year of practice I'd completed to be a licensed driver. I would have been much more comfortable on the back of a horse, but they didn't travel quickly enough for this modern era.

Thirty minutes later, I released my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. A man walked out of the building and stopped a polite distance from the car. I emerged, remembering to take the keys with me, and lock the car—in that order. Keeping the keys with me was a lesson I'd learned the hard way.

"Hello, I'm Professor Johnson. Call me Brandon." This lanky man didn't look anything like the scholar I had pictured. He didn't wear glasses, and his dirty-blond hair was carefully combed.

"You may address me as Elron."

"It is a pleasure to have you here. If you will follow me, we can talk in my office before visiting the greenhouses."

I was glad he didn't offer to shake hands. To me it was a strange human custom, but one I was attempting to remember as a normal greeting.

As offices go, Brandon's was a good one. It had nice furniture, a window, and no one else using it. Brandon's office was also remarkably tidy, and the chairs were comfortable.

"I understand you need someone with my expertise, but why you would need an elf wasn't explained." I had started looking for a job. If I wanted to live, I needed new things to focus on, but I wouldn't take just any job.

"The school and I want to start a garden. A very special garden."

Chapter 5: Michelle

I can do this, I thought. The elf won't bother me. I can make small talk like anyone else and not be bothered by his questions. It didn't matter if his questions brought back memories of strange things and questions I'd had most of my life. He didn't know what he was asking. Though you'd think someone who was as old as him would have learned to leave some things alone. I should stop answering the questions I didn't want to and start asking him more questions.

Determined to go to dinner with a good mood, I turned on some Bach and hopped in the shower. Unable to resist, I indulged in a game I played as a child. I turned the water different colors, and projected a rainbow on the back wall. I changed the color of the water every few minutes, enjoying the novelty. The rainbow on the back wall was over a field and had a pot of gold at each end. I laughed as the light reflected off the colored water, casting beautiful shadows on the walls.

Bracing myself, I walked into the dining room. Elron was already seated across from Landa and Mander, the brownie couple who owned the lodge. The seat between Elron and the end of the table was open, but on the other side of him was a male satyr sitting across from a male centaur. I wouldn't be seeing Aksi again; his conference ended today, and he was leaving directly from the closing dinner to the airport.

Narzel, the god of trickery and mayhem, should take a special interest in Elron. It would serve him right.

"Michelle, I thought you might be down. Gather your food. We just started eating," Landa called out.

I did as I was bid and settled into the seat next to Elron. It was better than the other choice, and it would look strange if I refused the seat that had been reserved for me. Frankly, Elron was the better option. Satyrs and centaurs tended to be a lusty lot. Neither species cared much if they were with their own kind or humanoids. I think it had something to do with being part humanoid themselves, but I'd never known one well enough to ask. Satyrs liked to drink, and centaurs were known for being temperamental. I wasn't a human, but I was definitely the most fragile of the group, and as the only single female I would attract a lot of their attentions. Tonight, I would take any protection I could get.

Mander introduced everyone. "I don't believe any of you know each other. Ch'que, the centaur, will be staying with us overnight, and Tironious, the satyr, will be here for a few days. Elron arrived yesterday, and Michelle, a witch, is a permanent resident." The last part, about me living here and being a witch, was intended as a warning. Mander wanted them to know that he would take it amiss if anything happened to me and that I wasn't defenseless. I would have rather they thought me powerless because they wouldn't have been prepared for me to defend myself. Now they were warned that I had some power. They were also warned that two brownies would come after them if they caused me harm, and that was no small threat.

"Are you passing through?" Elron addressed the question to the men.

Ch'que answered first. "I am traveling to the fall assembly of our people. Not all our people, of course, but leaders, elders, and those looking for something." He was eating matzo ball soup like everyone but Tironious, who was eating fruit.

"What are you searching for?" Elron was bold tonight, but he was also correct. Ch'que did not have the markings of a chief or elder.

"I am looking for a herd that will allow me to join and court their daughters. It is time that I took a mate." The glare Ch'que was wearing made it clear he was finished answering questions on that subject.

Elron switched his gaze to the satyr, who answered without being prompted. "I was in trouble with the law down south. I pursued a girl who I thought was amenable but was too young according to the modern laws. I am returning to my hometown, Philadelphia. I miss my community of satyrs and other nonhumans. I think I will do better there. I lived in the swamp with several nymphs and naiads for many years, but civilization has moved too close to me." Tironious slurped down an orange slice before asking, "How about yourself?"

"I had business in town. I will be returning to the forest." Not one to leave room for questions, his tone scared off anyone pushy.

"What is it that you do, Michelle?" Ch'que's question was nearly a demand.

I hated the question. It was one I answered far more often than I felt I should. "I work with police departments to dispose of enchanted items and solve magical problems. I do a little bit of everything." I pasted my best professional smile on my face, the one that didn't look sexy, just polite.

Mander asked Ch'que about the herds and how they were faring, and Landa inquired about the neighborhood Tironious was from. Elron turned to me. "How was your day?"

"All right. What did you do today?"

"I had several meetings."

"Did they go well?"

"Brilliantly." Wordy, he was not today. "What did you do with your day at home?"

I blinked at him for a moment, speechless. He wasn't even supposed to be at dinner tonight, never mind asking questions like that. "How did you know I didn't leave today?"

"The trees along the drive told me."

"They told you I didn't leave?"

"Yes."

"Did you talk to the trees behind the lodge?"

"Not yet, but I can go ask and then we can talk about it." He grinned.

"No need. I went for a jog along the trails. It was lovely." For a brief moment I imagined outrunning him, but elves were fantastic runners.

"Yes." He studied my face. "I imagine it was."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. I agreed that it must have been lovely to walk among the trees as they rain down the glory of fall before they are fully prepared for the long sleep. It is a lovely time, though I liked it more before so many of the trees were murdered for progress." His voice deepened with sorrow.

"The loss of the forest land was tragic, but I don't feel the sorrow as you do. I didn't see the beginning of the destruction. Perhaps, if you had taught the young ones better, such a loss might not have occurred." I didn't want to see him as vulnerable; I didn't want to care for him that way.

With slightly glowing eyes and whiter skin he growled, "You dare question our treatment of the humans? We were one of the few races that didn't enslave them. We helped them gain freedom."

"Yes," I said gently, "but what did you do to help them after that? You are not the first elf I've known. Your kind is renowned for disinterest in anything but the forest and wildlife."

Frowning, he stopped glowing. "I don't recall."

"Let me know when you have an answer to that one."

"I will, young one. I will." He slowly ate more soup.

I listened to the others long enough to realize they were talking about how the marriage rituals had changed, in all groups, over the years. I couldn't summon any desire to participate in their conversation.

"Huh?" Elron had asked me something, but I hadn't been listening.

"What else did you do with your day?"

"Paperwork." I smiled to myself. "And I gave myself a light show in the shower." Standing, I made my excuses, set my dishes in the bin, and with a few words shot a rainbow across the table.

Landa and Mander clapped, while the two newest guests just looked back and forth from the rainbow to me. Elron had wide eyes and was leaning away from the table.

"Good night everyone. It should last an hour or so." Smirking, I walked out the door. I had managed to surprise the elf. Score for me.

Chapter 6: Michelle

I answered the phone on the fourth ring. "Oaks Magical Consulting, how may I help you?" It was six in the morning, but I made a point of being up early. It bothered me less when the phone rang, and phones tended to ring early in the morning for people who worked with the police. Morning was the time when all the night's mischief was discovered.

"Michelle, it's Jones. We need you up here, or I think we do. Look, even if we don't, we'll compensate you for driving, but get here fast."

"Fine, but I need directions, an address, and an idea of what happened." Jones was usually more upbeat than this. He sounded serious right now.

"You don't need directions. We're at the south side of the troll preserve. Just get to the south entrance, and you'll find us. As for what happened, get down here and take a look. We have a crater the size of a small house over here. Something exploded at five, and we're trying to pick up the pieces." Someone shouted in the background, and he hung up before I could answer.

I hurried to grab a few extra bags of supplies, packed some food, and hit the road. Driving along the highway a little bit over the speed limit, I started to wonder why they had called me. I hadn't been doing this very long. I'd only set up the business eighteen months ago, and while it was going well, I wasn't a policeman or a detective or an investigator. I was a witch.

I was the one race that naturally had active magic that could be used for a variety of things. Most races didn't have that, humans being no exception. Humans could at best be hedge-practitioners, minor powers that required years of study, the proper incantation, and tools to focus their power. Witches, on the other hand, were a matriarchal race containing both female witches and male wizards. Witches traced bloodlines through the mother, since they could always be sure who the mother was, and they valued bloodlines because some amount of power seemed to be linked to how powerful the parents were. The only way for humans, or any other race, to become more powerful than the very basic arts was to make a deal with a spirit or entity that could give them power. Sorcerers or sorceresses were very powerful, but usually unstable and given to breaking laws—and indulging in sadistic rituals. Very few sorcerers obtained their power without hurting others.

Other than being a witch, I didn't have any amazing powers. I didn't know anything about explosives, and there were troll experts, so my information on that topic wouldn't be the most detailed. I didn't even have the extra abilities many races had. The shifters had enhanced physical abilities, senses, and could shape-shift. Vampires couldn't come out during the day but were very fast, strong, and equipped with heightened senses. The primary strength of witches wasn't their power, but rather their clans. One witch was moderately powerful, but a group of witches was exponentially more powerful. Few were willing to harm a witch because, while killing one was easy, the clan would come after the murderer.

A tad over halfway there, it started to rain. "Great. Just great," I mumbled. Slowing the car down, I started to worry. I might not be able to do them much good if it was raining at the preserve. I didn't want to lose this department because the water got in my way. I reminded myself that I'd be able to do more than Jones in this weather, and that had to count for something.

It also had to count for something that they didn't have to pay the big fee most of the witch companies wanted before they worked with anyone. Witches, as a whole, knew that their magic was a limited commodity, and they made people pay. I might not have all the expertise or equipment of a clan, but I was cheaper. Truth be told, it was a rare case that needed more than one witch, and most cases that unique would be a challenge that the witch companies would fight over, just for bragging rights at the next meeting.

Thinking of meetings reminded me I needed to send in my registration for the Witch's Southeast Spring Convention. The conventions were an important networking and learning opportunity for me. I often found new friends and colleagues, something I needed to compensate for my clanless state.

Finding the turn, I left the main road, slowly heading to the south gate. It was still drizzling, but I could work in a drizzle. When I reached the south gate, I slowed down, stopping by two officers guarding the road with a barricade. I rolled down my window to talk to the officer walking over.

He leaned down to look at me. "Authorized personnel only today, ma'am. I am afraid you will need to leave."

"I'm Michelle Oaks, the witch. I should be on the list. Jones called, asking me to be here. I'm going to get my driver's license." I wanted to warn him before I moved my hands off the steering wheel. Sometimes police get nervous and accidents happen. I reached my hand to the unused cup holder where my wallet was sitting, pulled the card out and handed it to him. It helped to have things in plain sight. Less room for misunderstandings.

He carefully examined the card before handing it back to me. "Let me check, Miss Oaks." He stepped back from the car, calling out to his other half. A few minutes later, after much talking on the radio, the officer came back over to the car window. "You're cleared to go in. Keep going until you see the medical examiner's van. You have the space next to him."

The officer moved back, and they moved the barricade. I rolled past them, continuing to go slowly as I drove up the road. There wasn't much visibility because the road curved and there were trees on each side. Before too much longer, the trees on the left disappeared, revealing a large fence and a field with buildings and caves scattered across a balding expanse.

A hundred feet ahead, the wall of people, cars, and equipment obscured my view of the scene. As instructed, I rolled past all of them, watching where I was driving because of all the people moving around. The spot next to the medical examiner was easy to find because it was the only empty space. I pulled on a light jacket, leaving the car unlocked and my keys on the passenger seat. I clipped on a name tag and called Jones because I would never be able to find him just walking around.

"Michelle, where are you?" He sounded frazzled and desperate.

"I'm parked next to the medical examiner, can you come get me?"

"On my way."

I slipped out of the car and into the drizzle. I wasn't fooled by the mist—there was more rain coming, heavy rain. I needed to work fast. My nose wrinkled involuntarily. The smell was something I had never smelled before. It was a strange mixture of smoke, burned wood, metal, and a few other things I couldn't identify.

I wasn't the only expert here. This was a police party. There were police cars, three fire engines, two ambulances, unmarked cars, cars from other jurisdictions, and two cars with military plates. People in every uniform that could possibly go with those cars, and in plain clothes like me, were scurrying around like ants. The crater had to be on the other side of the fire engine that was between me and the preserve fence line. From the mass of people running around, one separated from the pack and headed my way.

Jones looked ten years older than the last time I'd seen him; it was mostly because of the soot he was smeared with and the fatigue lining every inch of his body. I sincerely hoped I wouldn't look like that at the end of today.

"Michelle, thank God you're here." His face broke into a hint of a smile. "Follow me. I'll tell you what's going on while we walk." He took a deep breath. "Like I already told you, around five, something exploded here. I know there were some real explosives, but there may have been magic involved. Anyway, with a big hole through the fence and into the ground, we think some of the trolls may have escaped, but the zookeepers won't know until we figure out who and what the two bodies are and they do a full head count. I would've thought they had a tracking device in those trolls, but I guess they've never had an escape, so no one would fund something that practical." He stopped before I could see around the fire engine.

"The bodies have been moved off to the side, but they aren't covered. I don't think you need to look at them, but this is a big hole, and a lot of people are looking around." He looked worried.

This was what I loved about Jones. He considered things, like me hating being near bodies. He really was a good guy.

"All right. Just walk me through it, and we'll figure out what I need to do." With a nod, he started around the truck. I followed, unsure of what I had gotten myself into.

It was nothing like what I'd expected. Two charred bodies were on the other side of the hole with several people looking at them. The crater, which looked to be twenty feet across and nine feet deep at the very bottom, was crawling with people looking for evidence and taking soil samples. On the troll side of the crater, temporary fencing was set up, arching around to meet the regular fence. Jones stopped at the edge of the crater next to Sheriff Davis.

"Sir, Miss Oaks is here."

The sheriff was a well-built shifter. His red hair was a little shaggy, and he reminded me of a model for one of those romances that featured women being carried off by Scottish barbarians who turn out to be their dream man. He turned away from the scene in front of him. "Ah good. Everyone was clamoring to get their pet witch or favorite firm out here, but I told them it was my, or the FBI's, jurisdiction. The FBI's witches are all doing other things, and you've been good to us."

"Thank you, sheriff." I hadn't spent much time around him, but he seemed like a fair man.

"Now, I'll leave the magical particulars to you and Jones, but I need some way of tracking any missing trolls. It's our job to figure out if those two really crispy skeletons were trolls, and if any trolls escaped."

I knew from the look I'd gotten that those skeletons weren't just crispy, they were shattered. It looked like they were trying to get enough assembled to make a quick guess at race.

"I need to know if magic was used in this, what for, and if possible, I need you to track or mark the perpetrators. Send Jones to me with regular updates. Other than that, get to work." Someone called to him from across the crater, and he was gone.

"Was there any place in particular that you felt magic?" I asked.

"Not really, just around the crater."

"The entire thing?"

He nodded.

"Thanks." Looking at the hole, I considered how to find the residue. There were two ways to use magic. The most common and easiest way to cast magic was through runes. Runes were symbols that shaped and amplified the power used to draw them. Some practitioners could shape spells without runes, but it required more effort, control, and focus.

I needed to start identifying the magic in the crater before the rain picked up and washed away the residue. The other spells I would be casting had the potential to be augmented with rituals, but this wasn't exactly a spell. I let down my shields and cast my magic out, but I made it sticky so it would cling to other magic. As the net settled across the area, I shifted my eyesight so I could see it as well as feel the power.

"Jones, grab some colored flags and drift a bit of power around you. It should stick to the magic spots. Stick a flag in them and move on. I can't walk about and maintain this, but I can tell you if you're in the right spot."

He nodded and moved off. If I had set this up as a spell or used runes to cast this, I wouldn't be bound to one spot, but to maintain magic in a specific shape outside my body took a lot of concentration and visualization. For ten minutes he walked across the area, stopping when he felt his magic pull, looked to me to make sure he was planting the flag in the right spot, pulled his magic off the anchor, and moved on. When Jones found the last spot, I undid the magic and waited for him to make his way around the hole. There were forty-seven flags in the ground making mostly neat circles around the center of the hole.

"Well, a spell didn't make the crater, but there was a spell involved." I sighed.

"Good job, Michelle. I couldn't have done that."

"Thanks. Why don't you tell the sheriff what we found? I'm going to grab a drink and some equipment so we can work on the rest of this stuff."

Jones nodded and headed off.

I turned back to the car, glad I'd brought a thermos of tea. I gulped down a bit of it before picking up my regular bag and a spare bag out of the trunk. I arrived back at the edge of the big hole to find Jones already there.

"Ah, Michelle, you will be happy to hear that the zookeepers finally figured out there are ten trolls missing. The coroner hauled off the bodies while we were working and called to say that they are both trolls, so we have eight trolls on the loose. We still don't know who did it." Jones looked happy, but I wasn't sure how much easier this made things for me. Tracking creatures was tricky.

"I don't know if I can track the trolls, or whoever did this. Usually you need part of that individual or something special to them for a tracking spell to work. It isn't the easiest thing to do." I felt stupid and defeated, but few other witches would have been able to do more.

"We'll work on that in a few minutes. You're forgetting you need to figure out what kind of magic is in that hole."

"Oops." The long morning was wearing on my concentration. "Which residue was the strongest?"

"This way." Jones guided me to a flag near the center of the blast.

Kneeling down, I let my power flow over and around the little glob of foreign magic. The texture of my power changed, asking the other magic what it did. A simple answer returned. "Clean." I pushed at it a bit more, getting the feeling it hadn't had enough time to finish its job.

"That was simple enough."

Jones was too tired to ask. He just stared at me.

"It's a cleaning spell, though I don't think it finished its job. I can't tell you what type of cleaning spell. That's all I'm going to get. But it had to be a big spell to leave this much behind."

"Eh, good enough. We've got other things to work on. Could you do something with a fingerprint without destroying it or altering it in a way that would make it difficult for us to process?" I could tell he was thinking about something clever.

"Fingerprints leave skin cells and oil behind, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I can do something with that. Can you take me to the fingerprint, or bring it to me?"

"This way."

I didn't know how many other witches had done what I was about to attempt, but it was going to be fun. He brought me to a tent containing bagged evidence and had the person in charge of that piece of evidence take it out and put it in front of me before shooing everyone away. I pulled a small piece of gravel and a grease pen out of my bag, and then I slipped my magic around the twisted piece of metal, leaving the fingerprint alone.

I started writing symbols on the rock. There was nothing special about the rock; I had picked it up from one of the paths at the lodge, but then it had been cleaned and blessed. Now I was writing runes for connection and finding. By tying the spells to the rock, the fingerprint would stay on the evidence, but the spell would know the skin of whoever left it behind. When I was finished, the oils from the pen sank into the rock, becoming a tattoo on its surface over the soft glow it emitted.

I turned around and handed it to Jones. "It's spelled so the glow will increase as you get closer to the person who matches that print, but it will stop glowing if you are going the wrong way. It will turn from gold to green when you are within five feet of the right person. That spell should last for a while. I'm not sure how long, but more than two weeks for sure."

"That was cool." He sounded more like himself when he was in awe of magic I'd performed.

"It was fun." I couldn't avoid smiling. "Did they find any other prints on the device?"

"That's the only one so far."

"Then the cleaning spell was intended to wipe away any identifying biological traces. I'd guess they didn't give the spell enough time to work."

"Hmm. Makes sense. I'll inform the sheriff after we finish." This man really did love his work. He was grinning just watching me cast a spell he couldn't.

I was feeling tired, but I needed to remind him of something. "I can't vouch for what this person did. The only thing that magic will do is find the person who left that print."

"No worries. Investigating is our job."

I hauled my stuff out of the tent, and everyone who'd been waiting for me to move got back to work. The chair outside the tent provided a convenient place to rest. I was unsure of the time, but very sure that it was raining harder.

"If you're waiting for me to give you an idea for tracking down the trolls, I don't have one." The cheerful Jones was gone, replaced by tired grumpy man.

An idea had been simmering since they requested tracking, but it wasn't a spell I'd done before. "I know how to track the trolls, but it won't be fast or easy. I need soil samples from every half mile inside and outside the fence of the preserve, and vials of blood from a few different trolls. Using the soil and a very big map of Georgia, I'll make a model. With the blood, I can create a spell that will give you an idea of where something with similar blood is located."

"Back to the office, then?" Jones asked

"Yup. Did you drive yourself?" I needed to know if we were taking one or two cars back.

"Yes. I can talk to the sheriff and meet you back at the office if you want to go ahead." He looked at his watch. "It's eleven thirty. Why don't you grab us some lunch—"

"I brought lunch. It's one of Landa's emergency packs."

He returned my grin. "Bless you, child. I'll see you at the office."

Forty minutes later, we were munching through hot stew and chips. Jones looked better, and I knew he'd perk up once the minor healing charm I'd forced on him had a chance to do its work.

"Do you know how far a troll could've traveled before finding shelter for the day?" I asked. It wasn't something covered in my troll studies since they've been in preserves all my life. The trolls would need shelter before daylight or we'd be looking for statuary. "The short ones are six feet tall. That's a long stride."

"Hmm. I'm not sure. Could we start with a small map and then do something to make them show up on a larger map if they left the area shown on the small map? If one of those 'Free the Trolls' groups were involved, the trolls could've been in a van."

I don't think of everything. That was the beauty of this job; I could get help without sounding silly. "Very true. I could link two maps. When's the dirt getting here?"

"I think we have enough time to finish lunch and set up," he answered.

I nodded my understanding. We continued to eat in silence since we were too tired for small talk. I thought through most of the spells I would do this afternoon before deciding that my brain needed a break. I hoped the satyr and centaur had moved on today. I hadn't enjoyed their company. I wasn't sure if I wanted Elron to be there or not. He was interesting but rather annoying.

I finished eating first and quickly started cleaning up. He finished and helped me put things back in the cooler and in the trash.

"Ready to set everything up?" I asked.

"No, but the faster we work, the earlier I can go home and sleep." He shuffled off to the workroom, and I followed.

We cleared off the work table, pulled the removable glass top off, and started stacking the supplies on it. The large Forsyth County map sat in the middle with markers, salt, ritual wooden knives, and hair spray around it.

Spells, to me, were a lot like cakes. They were best built in the proper order, one layer at a time. I could complete later portions of the spell before the first bits, but it would be trickier to connect them, much like putting flowers on a cake before the icing.

We pounced on the poor man who brought us the dirt, grabbing it before he could even stutter out how it was labeled. He also handed us six vials of troll blood from different trolls. The quantity of blood wasn't as important as the diversity. We quickly arranged the bags of dirt and spread them out in the correct area. After placing the dirt, I poured the troll blood into a small glass bowl, draping it with spells for preservation and purity.

With a marker, I started writing runes on the edge of the map. Slowly, layer by layer, I built the spells. I told the searching spell to look for things with similar blood, but not that blood. I told it to look outside the area with dirt like this (the troll preserve), but inside the area patrolled by the Forsyth County Sheriff's Office. I told it to put glowing spots on the map where it found things with similar blood. I told the spells to put information that didn't fit on this map on the larger map and gave it a way of converting size between the county map and the map of the state.

By the time I completed the spells, an hour had passed. Jones gently covered the dirt with hair spray to keep it in place. We cleaned up, giving the hair spray time to dry, and shifted the glass table top back on to keep the dirt from being disturbed.

"How long do you think it will take before anything shows up?"

I sighed. "I don't know. A few hours, I think. It has to search everything with blood even remotely similar and then pick the ones that match. If you don't see anything by this time tomorrow, I'll come back and tinker with the spells, though refining the spells could be tricky. What else do I need to do?"

"Nothing that I can think of. I'll tell anyone that asks that you were tapped out for the day."

I grabbed my bags. This was the time to get out. "Thanks. Keep me updated."

He nodded tiredly, and I shuffled back to the car where I dropped everything on the backseat. Tomorrow would be soon enough to reorganize. I pulled a stay-awake charm out of my spare bag and activated it. The charm would buzz if I started to fall asleep. If I'd been smart, I would've grabbed one when I was called out to the mayor's house yesterday. When I repacked the bags, I needed to move the stay-awake charms from an emergency bag to my regular kit.

The hotel I passed looked inviting. Between the lack of clothes and active cases south of my apartment, the thoughts of a hotel didn't last long. The last time I'd crashed at a hotel, I ended up driving twice as far as I should have because I wasn't at home when an emergency call came in. To top it off, I'd had to eat nasty fast food and ended up sick.

Even with the stay-awake charm, it was another drive that required singing, stopping every thirty minutes, a lot of hot tea, and a few donuts. Arriving home, I could've kissed the ground. It was annoying how often I was bone-tired because of my job, but every job had downsides. Erratic hours, long days, and the never-ending travel weren't a bad cost for work I loved. Retreating to my apartment, I was almost sad that I didn't see Elron. Considering my tired and grumpy state, it would have been interesting.

Blessed oblivion claimed me, wrapping me in a dark warm spot where I could hibernate until I was rested. What felt like seconds later, I was rudely awakened by my phone ringing, silver hair fading from my dreams.

"Oaks Consulting. How can I help you?" I yawned and looked at the clock, surprised to see that two hours had passed.

"It's Jerry, and not an emergency. You can relax."

I sighed with relief. "Oh, good. I was going to tell you no if it was, but this is easier." He chuckled. "What do you need?"

"The information from the unicorn was good. We have a few houses we want to check out, but we want you there. I'm worried about what else this person is keeping. I'm betting it's more dangerous than the dogs. When can you get down here?"

"Tomorrow, say eight?" I wanted to get a lot of sleep tonight.

"Sure. I'm sorry I woke you."

"No worries. I need to get dinner."

"Good timing then. Bye."

I rolled out of bed, sniffing. There was a weird smell in the room. Picking up my arm, I sniffed it. The smell was me. I dumped my clothes into a special hamper and triggered an odor charm I had hanging over my bed to clear the air. Realizing that any clothing smelling that strongly would have made me and the bed smell, I stripped the sheets, depositing them in the hamper on my way to the shower.

After pulling on comfortable but presentable clothes, I headed to dinner. Walking in, I realized something was going on. Landa was the only other person in the room, and the side bar was empty.

"There you are, dear. I was just fixing this tray for you. No one else is eating down here tonight, so I didn't set everything out." She wrapped the last of the three plates on the tray.

"Thank you." I realized something was missing. "Where's Elron?" That elf would never miss a chance to make fun of me.

"He left early this morning, as did Ch'que. Why?" She cocked her head, causing her large pointed ears to tilt. Landa wasn't beautiful by human standards, but she was an attractive brownie. She had deep brown skin, large green eyes, thin lips, a delicate nose, and was four and a half feet tall. Appearances could be deceiving though; brownies are tough.

"I've seen him at dinner every day he was here, so I thought he would be here tonight. I knew he would leave, I just wasn't sure when." It sounded thin, even to me.

"Of course, dear. Here, take this tray and go rest. I heard about those trolls getting out. I sure hope you catch them soon."

The tray was surprisingly heavy. How much food did she think I needed? "I did my best to set them up with a few spells that should make it easy to find the trolls. I'll know tomorrow if they worked or if I need to do something else. Thank you, Landa."

"No problem, dear."

I carried the tray back to my room, more curious than I would care to admit about Elron, his appearances in my dreams, and the contents of the tray.

Chapter 7: Elron

I hadn't felt this alive since my mate died. For the first time, the pain of Sylvia's death was distant, more like a scar and less like a jagged wound that hadn't healed. None of the humans remembered the trolls being rounded up, but I remembered. I remembered when one of the last free tribes had hunted Sylvia. She had died a horrible death at their hands when she should have grown old with me.

All things bright and beautiful in my world had ended the day she died. I still don't know how my friends kept me alive, or how other elves took a new partner after their mates died. I could understand wanting the company, but not the speedy replacement of one who was so special.

I strode into camp, realizing how little had changed in the few days I had been gone. Other than the leaves on the ground, it looked just like it had before I left. These woods looked the same as they had every year for the past hundred years.

Studying the lovely trees, with houses hollowed out of their trunks, my thoughts solidified. In the past hundred years, nothing had changed. The houses and residents were the same. As a race, we had only had enough children to replace the ones who had died. As a people, we were stagnant. We hadn't changed significantly in the past thousand years. If we weren't so long-lived, the race would have collapsed.

I had always considered myself an intelligent man, but for such an intelligent man, I felt rather stupid. Why had we thought the world's changes wouldn't affect us? We used our magic to encourage trees to grow so we could live in them, at peace with nature, but nature was disappearing in many places.

I walked into my small house, still remembering when I had moved out of the tree I had grown for Sylvia and myself. I'd wanted to stay, but every moment in those walls became a reminder of what I'd lost. This dwelling was small and didn't bring up a single memory.

Everything was still in its place. The small bed was neatly made, with the bookshelves rising around it. Beneath the window opposite the bed was a small reading area with two chairs on either side of a round table. There was a small area behind the front door where I could cook.

I peered out the window, checking on the seedlings I had planted; they were in good health. Looking at them, I had inspiration for a new project or two. Walking outside, I took stock of the plants, needing something special. There was one that would work, and be willing to work, for my current need.

After cleaning a shallow pot from behind the house, I filled the bottom with all the right things for this little evergreen before coaxing it out of the ground and into its new soil. As soon as it was settled, I talked to it. This took time. Trees, even young excited ones, don't communicate on the same scale that most people do. Hours later, I was sure it understood what I wanted and would grow with minimum fuss.

Chapter 8: Michelle

I fished the phone out of my pocket. "Oaks Consulting." I was terrified that this would be bad news. I really didn't want any more of that. I'd been making the rounds with the Cobb and Cherokee police since eight but had been in the station at seven. In the ten houses the police had scouted, I hadn't sensed anything more dangerous than a pot that prevents overboiling, but we weren't finished yet.

"It's Jones."

"Hey, how's the map working?" He sounded amused, which could be good, but I had a feeling it wasn't.

"Oh, it's working. It's working a little bit too well. I don't know how much trolls and humans have in common, but the whole thing is lit up like a population density map."

"Clearly, I need to work on the parameters. Could it wait until tomorrow? I'm doing an all-day thing down here in Cherokee. I could be there at eight." I didn't want to search more houses, possibly clean up whatever was down here and then drive over to Forsyth.

"The department will spring for a hotel or have someone bring you, but they want this done today."

Sighing, I answered, "I can't blame them. Send the driver; I can sleep on one of the cots in the precinct. They get the best of both worlds; they only need to drive me, and I'll be there tomorrow to fix anything else that goes wrong."

"Done."

"You were hoping I'd say that, weren't you?"

"Yup. Bye, Michelle." The man had sounded entirely too smug, but he knew I was dedicated to my job.

"Are you ready?" Jerry asked.

"Sure." I closed the car door and waited for the parade to get moving. The road, or lack of one, made me grab the door handle and seat, clutching my kit between my ankles. "How do people find these places?"

He navigated through a tricky part of the road covered in giant holes and runoff channels. "You know how they find them. If you want to blame someone for forcing this upon you, you need to blame yourself or your unicorn friend. Seriously, if I was going to do some crazy breeding program, I'd be at the next house."

I lost my hold on the door but grabbed for it again as I nearly flew out of the seat, even with the seatbelt on. "Then why did we check all those other houses?"

He turned onto what passed for the main road out here. "We had to go past all of them before we could get to this house. We didn't want to tip them off if they were doing something naughty, and we knew we could control access to this next place. Besides, the place fits your unicorn's description perfectly. It's technically in Cherokee, but no one comes out here, and the county line runs down the edge of the property."

We bumped along a bit farther. "How much farther is this place?"

"About two miles."

I stopped asking questions. I knew I would just look dumb. Every ditch, hole, and bump made me happier that I wasn't driving my car. Eventually we rolled to a stop behind the car in front of us. With trees and brush on each side of the dirt road, there wasn't anywhere to pull off to, and I thought we might be backing out. Again, I was grateful I hadn't driven.

"We'll do this like the other houses. One officer will talk to the owner. You're going to poke around magically from a distance." Jerry walked me up to a point where I could barely see the run-down shack of a house through the woods. It would be difficult for anyone to see us.

Watching an officer walk up the steps, I started to look, sort of. Closing my eyes, I let down my inner barriers and threw some magic in the direction of the house. I was hoping to stick my power to anything with magic in the building. Once I'd found the charmed objects, I could examine them more closely. My power floated to the ground, and for a moment I thought it would just pass into the earth and dissipate.

Then it stuck. Not just a bit here and there, but all of it. Not only did it stick, something—or some things—started to pull the magic in, like it was eating my magic. The pull had me stumbling forward a step before I braced myself. I quickly reeled in as much of my power as I could and cut myself off from the rest. The loss of magic hurt, leaving me tired and a bit unsteady, but it was a small price to pay to avoid being sucked in by whatever was in there.

My eyes popped open. "You need to get everyone in there now. Surround that place and go in. I don't know what's going on, but it's covered in magic, and someone is feeding off the energy of sacrifices."

Jerry studied me. "You're sure?"

"Yes."

Jerry started issuing orders and sending people to the house. Two officers took off, faster than humans could run, to the back of the house. Another two officers charged in the door, and the rest covered the perimeter. For one short moment nothing happened, then screams, crashes, and a gun firing three times shattered the quiet moment.

I was up and running as soon as the last shot was fired. I had really powerful healing charms with me, and someone might need them. I burst through the door and saw chaos. Two officers had something pinned to the ground and were trying to cuff it. The third officer in the living room was holding his arm, swearing. I ran to him.

"What happened? Let me see."

He pulled his hand away from his arm long enough for me to see three deep slashes and blood gushing out. "Damn thing got me with claws not long after I got inside. It was cutting up the"—he looked sick—"person in the kitchen."

"Here, take this." I activated one of the major healing charms. "Press it against your arm." Knowing the charm would heal the damage, I left him standing against the wall and hurried into the kitchen. I nearly puked. It looked like it should have been a dwarf, but every inch of it was covered in shallow cuts. It was chained on top of the kitchen island. I pulled three more major healing charms out of my bag, activated them, and pressed them to his body as quickly as I could. The dwarf whimpered at the touch of the healing charms to his flesh. I left one charm at the base of his throat, one at his belly button, and the last on his knees.

"Michelle, we need you!" Jerry sounded panicked.

I'd been ignoring the noises behind me while I helped the dwarf, but Jerry's voice reminded me that the dwarf would've lasted a few more minutes. I turned back to the living room, looking for the first time at the woman who'd injured the cop. She was one of the strangest things I'd ever laid eyes on. She had a Mohawk of greasy-looking black hair, beady black eyes, and her nose and mouth had merged into something of a beak. To go with her clawed hands, her bare feet had claws rather than toes. She was wearing some strange garment that wrapped around her but had dislodged in the struggle, leaving her breasts bare.

Several valuable seconds passed as I stared at her before noticing her struggle to break out of the two sets of handcuffs on her wrists. Now that I was paying attention, I could feel the magic she was using to break the metal. I sketched runes for metal and strength in the air, willing them to work. For a second they did, then her eyes glowed and I could feel the magic draining from the spells.

"No!" I put power behind it, reaching forward to put my strength just inside the metal, but where it wouldn't touch her.

She wasn't behaving like a sorceress, but a hedge-practitioner. Sorcerers, or sorceresses, were as powerful as witches. Hedge-practitioners were less powerful, with limited education and abilities. If she couldn't touch the magic, she wouldn't be able to break it. The creature struggled for a moment and then spat at me.

I jumped aside. I didn't think that claws were the only alteration that had been made. I quickly tied the spell off, making sure it didn't touch her skin.

"How do we contain her?"

I didn't remember Jerry coming over to me. "I don't think she can get out of those or the special containment cell at the jail. I'd put her in there. I think she's a hedge-practitioner, but from the look of things she's been harvesting energy from people. I doubt she has much power without gathering it in rituals. In a few days, when the energy has drained, she'll be mostly normal. But if she can inflict pain on anyone, even herself, she'll start to gather power again."

She sagged down between the two police officers hauling her out, and I could see the three bullet holes in her torso. "Admittedly, I'm not sure where her vital organs are. She may live, she may die. You have a nullifying cuff, right?"

A nullifying cuff would counteract any magic she had or could do. For something like her, it was the perfect solution.

"Yeah, I don't know why I didn't think of that," Jerry said.

"Because you're freaked out, and most officers keep them in the cars, not on their person. I need to check out the rest of this place. Is there anywhere you want me to start?" I asked.

"Check on the shifters in the back. They should've been able to secure that area and may need help."

I walked past the paramedics working on the dwarf, who was looking less like raw meat, and out the kitchen door into the backyard. It had been fenced in and covered, but I could see where the shifters had ripped through. Let's hear it for raw power. The enclosure was lined in cages with all manner of creatures held captive behind their iron bars.

Before I could take it in, one of the shifters walked over and said, "We've already called animal control, and they are sending officers. We'd like you to label and spellbind anything that would cause trouble."

"Okay, sure," I said faintly. I took the big stickers he shoved at me on his way out of the yard. Spellbinding was a great way to prevent something from using passive magic, but I didn't have the ability to cut off a hedge-practitioner from their magic without spell reagents. If I'd had them with me, I would've bound the bird woman's magic by now.

Shaking my head, I tried to forget about him and get to work. Near me was a pair of Chihuahuas who looked like the ones I'd dealt with a few days ago, but I didn't get any feeling of magic from the two of them. I pulled a green sticker out of the stack and stuck it on the cage. Another green sticker had Animal Control scrawled across its face before I stuck it on the door.

Past them was a baby dragon. Its red scales looked dull, and there were signs of injuries to its wings. I knelt down next to its cage. "I'm Michelle. I'm with the police. We are going to get you out of here. Can you tell me your name?" Being less than two feet from rump to snout, with eight inches of tail, it was a very young dragon. I guessed it was around three years of age, but I couldn't determine gender.

It puffed a bit of smoke. "I'm Athe."

"Nice to meet you, Athe. Do you know who your parents are?" Athe was a boy's name, and he was very well spoken for a young dragon. Although dragons were born knowing their language, it took a year or two for them to become fluent in English.

"My mother is Rhaun, and my father is Yorel." He sounded very proud to have remembered them.

"Thank you, Athe. We'll find your parents so you can go home with them." I grabbed two yellow stickers, stuck one to his cage, and scrawled Child Services on the other one. "Do you think you could sit on the top of the cage and not go anywhere until you are asked to move? No one here will hurt you, but I need to go help the others, and I don't want to leave you in there."

He cocked his head to one side then the other. "I can sit on top. Can someone talk to me?"

I let him out and he jumped on top of the cage. "I think a lot of people will want to talk to you. If you need me, just shout. I'll be right here, okay?"

"Yes." He fanned his wings, and I could tell they hadn't been stretched in a long time.

After sticking the yellow sticker on the door, I walked back through the door and called for Jerry.

He rushed over from the living room. "What do you need?"

"Have someone call Child Services, and get them out here right away." I was angry. It didn't matter if Athe was human, witch, shifter, or dragon. He was still part of the civilized races and deserved better treatment.

"All right… What's going on?"

"There's a baby dragon out back. Athe's parents are Rhaun and Yorel."

"I'll call, but it may take time to get him back with his family."

"Right now, he needs to get out of here." Softening, because this wasn't Jerry's fault, I apologized. "Jerry, I'm sorry."

"I get it. I'll call right now." His cell phone was at his ear before I had a chance to say anything else.

Back outside, I reassured Athe before I continued down the line of cages. The third cage contained a fairy light. I labeled it green, though fairy lights weren't really animals. They were more like spirits, with the ability to communicate with some people and a unique social structure. The fourth cage had a brown gryphon curled up against the back of the cage.

"Hi, I'm Michelle. I'm here to help you. Can you tell me your name?" Gryphons were part of the civilized races, but were very reclusive after being hunted by humans. The elder races had put a quick and violent end to that practice by capturing the offenders and turning them over to the gryphons. Gryphon executions were long and painful.

"People evil."

"Not all people are evil. I'm trying to get you back to your family." The gryphon moved around enough that I could tell it was a girl. She was young, and I doubted she'd ever had a good experience with humans, and I looked human. Many gryphons keep their young in protected nests until they are fledged, not wanting them in the world until they have some defenses.

"People bad," she hissed.

I couldn't blame her for her feelings, but I wasn't equipped to help her. "Someone else will come help you." I stuck a yellow sticker on her cage. I felt bad for leaving her, but it wasn't my job to spend hours gaining her trust. It was my job to see if anything magical would cause a problem. An angry baby gryphon was something Child Services could handle.

There were three cages against the back wall. In the one on the right was a silver-and-gray timber wolf. I stuck a green tag on him. The center cage held a unicorn. I walked over to it.

"You will help me?" The poor thing hardly fit in the cage, and the voice it projected into my mind was timid.

"I can let you out, but you need to wait for other humans to take you out of here. Can you do that?" I stuck a yellow sticker on his cage.

"Yes. Did you find the dwarf?" I released the latch so he could walk out and stretch.

"Yes. Was he in the cage next to you?"

"He was."

"He's getting help."

"Good."

I nodded my farewell to the unicorn and started up the remaining side. The first two cages were coated in blood but didn't have occupants. The third cage contained a phoenix. Phoenixes looked like yellow, orange, and red eagles with the ability to burst into flames. They were immune to damage from fire, and could be reborn in very hot flames. This hedge-practitioner had acquired an impressive number of intelligent races.

"I am Michelle. Do you understand me?"

"Yes." Like unicorns, phoenixes could only speak mind to mind.

"I'm here to help. I can let you out if you stay near the cage until someone else comes to take you out of here." I gave him a yellow sticker.

"I can do that." I let him out, and he settled on top of the cage. "Thank you."

I looked at the last cage and just stuck a black tag on it. The macaw was dead; there was no question about it.

Before leaving, I checked on Athe, who was carrying on a lively conversation with one of the cops. I made sure the two of them would include the unicorn and phoenix as I started searching for Jerry.

I found Jerry in the kitchen ending a phone call. "How's it going?"

"I've called every service I can think of. They're all on their way."

"Oh, good. I want them to get the best help possible. I can't imagine doing that to an animal, never mind a person." They were all people. Race didn't matter.

"I'll keep an eye on them; they've suffered enough." He forced his hand to uncurl. "I hate to say it, but I found some stuff in the house that you need to look at."

I sighed. "I thought you would."

I followed him out of the kitchen and to the second bedroom. Every wall was covered in shelves, with every sort of expected knickknack and a few I hadn't wanted to see. The wall to my left had jars of every shape and size holding dead animals and parts of people or animals. I looked at the rest of the room, trying not to think about all the creatures who'd suffered at this woman's hands. The back wall held books, maps, and a strange assortment of talismans and jewelry. Jerry stayed in the door as I walked farther into the room. The wall to my right had many different idols of several demons I recognized and a few I didn't. Turning around I felt sick. Sitting on shelves against the last wall were ritual robes soaked in blood and other things. They were all sitting under a preservation spell.

Dreading what I would see next, I walked to the closet at the end of the wall containing all the parts and creatures. Not wanting to touch anything, I pulled on a latex glove before I opened the door. Inside was an altar, complete with an area for small sacrifices, blood draining, and burning. At the back of the altar was a statue of Gremory, a demon.

Calmly walking back to Jerry, I motioned for him to leave. He followed me back into the kitchen, watching me closely.

"Did you touch anything in there with your bare skin?" I thought he had been trained better than that, but I wasn't sure. He shook his head, indicating no. "Good. I could try to remove the magic from all those things and tell you how to dispose of them so any residue wouldn't cause any harm, but that would be hard, dangerous, and take a lot of time. You could hire it out to a firm. That could cost more, but they would be able to do it faster and with less danger to themselves or others."

Jerry's mouth was pinched and his brow furrowed. "Is there anything else we can do?"

"Yes. I would photograph, but not touch anything in that room, and burn this entire damn house in the hottest fire the department can manage. If they need to, they can cut down more trees to make it easier to contain, but burn everything in here. Then have a witch come back out here to make sure everything is destroyed. Anything that wasn't completely destroyed needs special care. I can't work with any of that stuff; you're going to need to hire it out."

"Are you sure there's nothing else you can do?" Jerry preferred to work with me. Unlike most witches, I didn't treat him badly because he was a hedge-practitioner.

I rubbed my face. "Honestly, I don't think I'd work with anything in that room no matter how much you paid me. Standing in there, fully shielded, I could feel things tugging at me. I'm a good witch, both in skill and type of power. That kind of power is seductive. It would be best if you could send a null in there. That's the one type of person I can guarantee won't be attracted to the power."

"I didn't feel anything." His wide eyes showed his fear.

"Not everyone would, and you might feel it in different ways. Most people who devote their life to protecting others aren't attracted to this power." I patted him on the back. "Don't worry about it, but follow my advice. Do I need to do anything else? I'm wanted in Forsyth."

"No, you're good to go. I'll find someone to drive you back to the station."

"Thanks, Jerry."

"Could you give me better news next time?" He smiled a little.

Smiling in response, I answered, "I'll try."

Twenty minutes later, I was riding back to my car with an officer who wasn't needed at the house. It was a long bumpy ride back to pavement. By the time I made it home, it was four in the afternoon. I ran up to my room, throwing enough things for an overnight trip into a duffel before running down to the kitchen to pack the lunch I missed, the dinner I wanted to have later, and some snacks.

"Oaks Consulting." I hated it when my phone rang. It didn't matter that I needed to answer my phone because it meant work and money; I didn't like phones.

"It's Jones. White will be there soon to pick you up."

"All right, I'll be ready." I hung up without saying good-bye, knowing he wouldn't wait for it anyway.

Sure enough, ten minutes later I heard gravel crunching and hauled my overnight bag, the small cooler, and duffel of work supplies outside. A young man with short dark hair emerged from the car.

"Ma'am, I can help you with that." He zoomed around the car, taking my overnight bag and the cooler. I followed him to the open trunk.

"I'll trade you the cooler for this duffel."

"Yes, ma'am." We switched, and I hopped in the passenger seat with my cooler so I could eat my belated lunch. He zipped around the car and back into the driver's seat in a blur.

"What kind of shifter are you?" It was a long drive, and I wouldn't mind chatting over my food.

He pulled down the driveway. "Well, ma'am—"

"Please stop calling me ma'am. I'm not that much older than you." I was grumpy, unfed, and hated being called ma'am.

He looked sheepish. "Sorry. I was told to be respectful."

"I'm a witch, a young one at that. It would take far too much effort to turn you into a toad. Besides, I'd be afraid you'd just turn back. So, what kind of shifter are you?" I started to eat my turkey sub.

"I'm a jaguar."

"Cool. How do you like it? Do you wish you were something else?"

"I don't think I'd like being any other type of shifter, but I grew up like this so it's hard to think about being different. I like the power and strength, but we are still adapting to more modern society and roles for women. We aren't sure how all that is going to work."

"What's the traditional pack structure?" Most shifters didn't follow their wild counterpart as closely as they liked people to think.

"The pack master was always male. The women always ranked below men, only fighting with each other for position. It kept them safe. We're hard to kill, but no one wanted to take any chances with the women. We have difficulties reproducing, and no one wants to risk children."

"What are the women trying to change?" I'd seldom heard a shifter be this blunt about their pack structure and rules. It wasn't that they couldn't tell people, they just didn't.

He frowned. "It's hard to explain. They want to be equal, but still protected. Right now we are allowing women to choose if they want to fight for pack standing with the males, but we won't know how it's working for a while yet." We both let the conversation lapse. After eating, I drifted off to sleep. It had been a long day, and I needed to work again later.

I woke up to White gently shaking my shoulder. He helped me haul my stuff back to the workroom before returning to his regular duties.

Looking at the map, I could see what Jones meant. It wasn't useful at all. The only place that wasn't glowing was the troll preserve. I microwaved a bowl of water and pulled three vials of human blood out of the freezer, with markings indicating they were from different people. I set them in the hot water and waited for them to thaw.

The actual mechanics of what I needed to do were simple. I needed to tell the map not to look at humans. To make it perfect, I would need to do that for every group or find a way to narrow down the trolls that it was looking for. I'd ask Jones about that tomorrow.

Once the blood vials thawed, I poured them into a bowl and set a preservation spell on the blood. I then unbent a portion of the spell and told it that it shouldn't look for blood like this, but that it needed to focus on the blood most like the other blood. I wound the edge of the spell back together, hoping I didn't have to do that too many more times. Spells could be altered, but every time I pulled it apart I risked damaging the spell.

I sat down to read for a while, wanting to keep an eye on the spell before crawling into a cot.

Chapter 9: Michelle

"Wake up, Michelle."

"Hmm, ump." I snuggled into the bed.

"Michelle, wake up!" White yelled.

I shot up. "Okay, okay. No need to shout. I'm up. Tea?" I rubbed my eyes and was able to focus. White pushed a cup of tea into my hands. "What happened?"

"I don't know, but we're going to another explosion."

"At the preserve?"

"No, at a chicken farm out in the country."

"Oh, okay. I'll meet you out front in three minutes." White left and I ran to the bathroom, pulled my hair into a ponytail, grabbed a snack from the cooler, and picked up my duffel. I was ready.

Information was flying across the radio. By the time we arrived, I knew the explosion had taken out part of a chicken house, killing an unknown number of chickens and letting thousands loose. A body had been discovered, and police from across the county were rushing to the chicken farm.

Getting out of the car at the farm, I realized the radio hadn't told me everything. I wasn't prepared for the smell of burned chicken and feathers. It was overpowering. I tried breathing through my mouth, but tasting the burned chicken was worse.

White and I passed under the crime scene tape surrounding the body. The medical examiner was kneeling next to her. Feeling giddy with relief, the words I'd been thinking slipped out of my mouth. "That is one crispy troll." White chuckled, as did a few of the other officers nearby. I blushed, muttering, "Sorry."

The sight of the troll was just as grisly as her smell. She was small for a troll, only seven feet. Live trolls, with their white skin, hunched shoulders, and wiry hair, were not the most attractive creatures. The pasty skin was logical since they turned to stone in the sun, but I'd never found a satisfactory reason for why they turned to stone.

The sight of her disfigured body made my stomach roll. Only a few feet from her, next to me, were the twisted remains of a feed silo with two legs still in the concrete pad. The chicken house, on the far side of the silo, was missing a thirty-foot section of wall and roof, a small wound considering it was four hundred feet long and forty feet across.

Still avoiding her, I reached out with a few fingers of power. There was nothing magical about this. It looked like the grain silo had exploded. The explosion had killed the troll and a lot of chickens. Several escaped chickens were eating the dead ones as hundreds roamed the farm. Luckily, most of the twenty thousand chickens were staying in the chicken house. Nothing about this was my problem.

"White." He looked over at me. "This wasn't magical. I don't think there is anything I can do here. That's a troll, so we're down to seven missing trolls."

"I can drive—"

"Body!"

All of us swiveled, looking for where to go. We spotted one of the guys who had been examining the surrounding area waving his flashlight. Everyone but the officers on guard duty and the medical examiner took off running. The officer was at the edge of the woods, just past the end of the partly exploded chicken house. All of us walked the last few feet, trying not to step on anything important. One officer took a look at the body, or the shadowy shape we all thought was a body, before heading back for a floodlight. The eight people standing around the body pulled out flashlights, trying to see as much as they could without disturbing the remains.

The lights trailed over the corpse, revealing a dark-haired young man with a goatee. As the lights played over his form, I could see deep bites on his neck and shoulders. The bite to his neck had bled, but not as much as I'd have thought a fatal wound would bleed. With a shift in the flashlights, his nearly severed arm caught my attention. It looked to have been ripped from his body.

I wasn't an expert, but it looked like the kid had bled out after a troll had snacked on him; I was betting on the troll over by the chicken house. What I didn't understand was why the troll would have stopped eating this guy and left him alone. From what I knew of trolls, they were more likely to take food with them than leave it for scavengers. I wouldn't have thought an explosion would deter a troll from food. A troll would be more likely to move the location of its dinner party.

I gently nudged White. "I'm going back to the car." If I didn't leave soon I would be ill.

Walking back, I thought longingly of sleep. There was nothing I could do here. The police had investigators who would look into this mess. My job was to get the map working so the trolls could be tracked and captured before another incident occurred.

"I know you don't see why I'm asking questions or why you're all going to be escorted to the station, but there's been an explosion on this property. There's a dead troll, and we've just found a dead human. I tried asking questions at the house. Y'all looked at each other and didn't say anything, so you'll be going to the station." The officer had herded four kids and two adults to the cars. I guessed the adults were the parents of at least one of the kids.

I sat on the warm hood of the car. It was the perfect temperature to keep me toasty while I watched the officer call extra policemen back to their cars. Each car had a child shoved in the back, with the parents left over. White volunteered to drive the adults since we weren't needed here.

It was a much quieter drive back. The radio wasn't as busy, and none of us talked. White and I didn't want to talk about the case in front of possible suspects, and they didn't want to say anything that we could later use against them.

Back at the office, I checked on the spell map right away. Most of the glowing circles had disappeared, but there were still more than seven. I counted twenty-three circles. It was showing more than trolls, but twenty-three was much more manageable than over a hundred. I couldn't be sure what was closer to trolls than humans, but several giants, dwarves, fey, centaurs, and satyrs lived in the area. There were a few dots not far from the chicken farm I'd just visited. I talked to a sergeant, who gave everyone at the crime scene a heads-up.

Tilting my wrist, I discovered that it was nearly four in the morning. I might as well stay up at this point and catch a nap later. Besides, their information could be useful. After leaving a note for Jones, I settled in the viewing room and listened in on the interview of the older guy.

"What time did all the kids arrive at the house?" the investigator asked.

The guy (Robert, I was informed) ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair as he sighed. "About six."

"What did they do?" Detective Smith questioned.

"They made a pizza for dinner. Then they hung out in Lee's bedroom for a little bit. I think they watched a few movies. After that, they went on a walk around the property. I'm not sure how long they were gone—forty minutes, an hour—when my wife and I heard the explosion. It startled us awake. We ran outside and saw the kids running back to the house. I asked where Ben was, and they said that he had gone home when they went for a walk. Lee had picked him up earlier in the evening, but he lived a mile away so he walked back to his house. We went back inside, and I asked them about the explosion. They said one of the old silos that we didn't use had gone up. I called the police, and the kids stayed in the house until you showed up. You know everything else."

I turned to the room where the wife, Regina, was being interviewed by White. She said the same thing, but in slightly different words. They both said they had spent the evening together. The kids, on the other hand, all four of them said the same thing with only the slightest change in verbiage. Lee, Carrie, Lisa, and Brian all agreed that Ben had gone home instead of going on the walk. They'd never seen the troll and while they'd seen the silo explode they had been on the other side of the property. They didn't know anything else about Ben or the dead troll. They were all shocked that something had snacked a guy to death. They were all lying.

An officer on that side of town dropped by Ben's house. His parents hadn't seen him since he went to Lee's for the night. A picture from their house confirmed Ben was the deceased.

It was obvious that they were lying. In spite of claiming to have perfect hearing, Brian and Lee were a bit deaf, an aftereffect of being near an explosion. All the teens had soot-stained clothing, and no one had worn a winter coat. It was cold enough that the kids would've wanted a jacket if they were out for a walk.

An assistant district attorney and a judge were awakened so the police could serve a warrant for searching the house while the residents were sitting in the police station. Funny thing, they found a stack of "Free the Troll" flyers, videos, and plans for releasing the trolls from captivity. By five, the sheriff was organizing search parties to look for trolls. He didn't want any more deaths, and there were several markers near the farm. I warned him the map was showing other people, leaving it in their hands. Trolls weren't magical, just big and hunting for a place to hide for the day.

With nothing more I could do, a prisoner transfer gave me a ride home. Two hours squished in the front of a passenger van with rude criminals in the back wasn't much fun.

Happy to be home, I enjoyed a long nap before going down for a sociable lunch. The five werewolves were back, but there was a new tingle in the air around them. The older one, with a long mustache and a bald head, introduced himself as Bobby. The man the aura of power was centered around was Liam. He had a shiny carrot top and slight lilt in his voice to match the name. The remaining three, Westen, Roland, and Mitch, had few distinguishing features other than their docile nature. Not that werewolves were docile, but some were less aggressive and controlling than others. These three gave off some serious relaxed and chilled vibes.

Landa peeked in as the last of us sat down to tell us she'd be in her room. She also mentioned the rest of the guests and residents had other lunch plans. Left alone, the six of us fell into an easy conversation.

"Thank you for the charms. We didn't need them, but it was a relief to have healing aids." Liam bowed his head in thanks.

"No problem. Was the ritual a success?" I wanted to know what they'd been up to but wasn't brave enough to ask.

"Indeed," Liam answered. "Under Bobby's guidance, I was able to pass the alpha trial."

"Congratulations. I'm told it's one of the most difficult to finish." Having natural leadership qualities or strength to rule others wasn't enough; the trial tested something deeper. Not being a wolf, I'd never been told what was tested, only the difficulty of success.

"Thank you."

"I wasn't aware pack members were able to guide others through the trial." The two of them exchanged a glance. "If you can't or don't want to tell me, that's fine."

After a pause, Bobby answered. "I'm the sage of the pack. I give them spiritual guidance and show them how to start the ritual and trials."

"Ah, thank you. I don't know much about werewolves." Which wasn't strictly true; I knew the basics of their culture. Book learning was valuable, but I always learned more about a culture from the people. Growing up, I hadn't known any werewolves.

"Few people outside the pack are knowledgeable in our ways."

Conversation lulled as we ate, before being picked up again by Liam. "Michelle, do you know much about the local pack?"

"Hmm. Not really. I've heard the current alpha is a good guy, but I don't know him. Why?"

"We're from a neighboring pack and heard there was a bit of turmoil." His answer was just a little too smooth for me to trust completely.

"They must have serious problems for other packs to hear of them." It wasn't common, but troubled packs had been taken over before. It was one of the ways packs could expand their territory. The one rule all races adhered to was that they could control their species in an area, but they couldn't rule others. A pack of werewolves couldn't take over a pack of werebears. If different species had disagreements, there were several ways they could resolve them after negotiations failed. Historically, there could be war, champions could battle, or a third party could arbitrate. Today, arbitration or lawsuits were the most common practices between disagreeing species.

"News travels."

"It has a tendency to do that."

One of the other wolves—Roland, I think—spoke up. "What's this thing with the trolls? I've heard part of the story, but not enough to understand."

"Oh, I can explain." Taking a moment to remember the public story, I continued, "There was an explosion at the preserve, and several trolls made it through the breach. A few of them have been recovered." Dead trolls wouldn't be causing problems, and they were in police custody. "The police are closing in on the remainder."

"Do they know what caused the explosion?" Roland asked.

"I'm afraid I can't comment on that." Seeing their slightly puzzled looks, I answered the unspoken question. "I'm working the case, so there are limitations to what I'm permitted to say."

"Is there anything else you can say?"

I answered in a deep, serious voice. "I'm not at liberty to say." The men chuckled, and I giggled, breaking the tension the troll talk caused.

"Do you like living here?" Roland was a curious wolf.

"Very much. Landa's nice. She's an easy landlord, and my mom trusts her so she worries less. I don't have much time to cook, and I'm often running in and out at odd hours, making the meals convenient. And as you've noticed, they're astonishingly tasty. The only odd part is never knowing who will be at meals. Also, I'm never sure how many people are staying here."

"You're very fond of Landa."

"Yes. She's a great friend of the family, and I love living here. I say family friend, but she's more of a second mother." Fondness, love, curved my lips in a smile.

Liam's eyes were locked on my face. "If you ever need a wolf's thoughts or help, give me a call." He slid a business card across the table.

I picked it up, seeing crossed wrenches before reading Liam McNeil, mechanic, and a phone number. "I— umm, thank you. I don't feel like I earned this."

"Call it an Irishman's whim." He smiled, and they filed out of the dining room. He paused at the door. "Have a lovely afternoon, lass."

I carefully stored Liam's number in my phone, tidied up my apartment, and changed into jogging clothes. I took a short run, basking in the fall glory. This time of year was brief; I had to enjoy it while it was here. I'd showered, but hadn't made it out the door when my phone buzzed.

"Oaks Consulting."

"It's Jones. They couldn't find any trolls. There were signs of them living in the area, but even when they walked right over the areas the trolls should have been, they couldn't find anything."

"Let me guess, the boss is mad that the map isn't working?"

"No, but he wants you back here to fix the spell."

"I'll do some research, but there's nothing wrong with the spell. They could be hiding in caves or tunnels. I'll see if there's another spell that will work. I can come up on my own time in a day or two."

"Thanks, Michelle. You're great."

"I try." I hung up the phone.

Great. Just great. The last thing I needed was to get in trouble because the trolls weren't where the map said they were. I knew the spell worked. It should have worked without the constriction against human blood, but now it was a better spell. The only way to improve it was to have something that belonged to each of the missing trolls. Then I could make tracking spells for specific trolls. Tomorrow, after I'd done some research, I'd call Jones with some ideas.

Shrugging off the worries, I headed out to the car. I had more work to do before I could have fun. Twenty minutes later, I pulled in to the Cherokee County Sheriff's Department and went inside.

"Hey, Rodriguez, what'd you need me for?" Rodriguez was about my age and still had a bit of a Spanish accent from spending his first ten years in Mexico.

"I've got some antiques, mostly junk, for you to look at." He was attractive, with black hair, a classically handsome face, and lots of charm.

Laid out on the table were random bits of this and that. Some things were common household goods, other things less mundane. There was a set of tongs clamped onto a wooden block, a steak knife, two dinner plates, a stand-alone toilet-paper dispenser, an office chair, a stapler, a glass vase, a pewter cup, and a wooden bowl.

"Which one do you want me to look at first?"

"The tongs. I just picked them up this morning. They had latched onto a nice old woman's nose at the secondhand shop. She was shopping for her granddaughter. I got there and unwound it enough to transfer it to a new object, but I couldn't remove the spell. She was nice about it but made me check everything else she was buying."

My smile matched his. I held my hand over the tongs to check them out. Rodriguez hadn't done a bad job, but some of what he'd done to get the tongs off the old woman's nose made it harder to remove the spell. It wasn't his fault; he was doing his job to neutralize the threat to the civilian. A few tricky minutes later, the spell was gone and the tongs were just tongs.

"They're normal now. Someone wanted them to hold salad without dropping any of it." I glanced over at Rodriguez; he had his head buried in his hands, stifling laughter. "Clearly, the spell was damaged. What's next?"

"It doesn't really matter. None of them should give you trouble, but watch out for the bowl and vase."

"All right." I tested the steak knife next. It was spelled to be extra sharp and strong, able to cut through tile. Focusing my power through my wand, a nice sturdy oak, I slowly drained the power out of the spells. As the last spell fell off the knife, it disintegrated. I brushed my hand over the dust, feeling the remains of an illusion that had been masked by the other spells. Apparently, the knife had been spelled for a long time, and someone had changed its look to something more modern because it was useful. Time had eaten away the original knife, leaving the spells to hold it together.

Finished with the knife, I moved on to the dinner plates. They were spelled to keep anyone who ate off them at the table until they were given permission to leave. It was a complex spell but easily stripped away, and this time there were no surprises.

The stand-up toilet-paper dispenser bit anyone who didn't put the toilet seat back down. I snickered as I stripped the spell off it. There were a lot of wives who would pay for that spell. The office chair rendered you impotent for an hour after sitting. The stapler bit anyone who flirted. Someone had wanted their cheating spouse to be faithful.

The vase was a different matter. It tried to eat hands. I stripped the spell off it ruthlessly, but I still wouldn't have wanted it in my apartment. The pewter cup spilled on anyone who tried to drink from it, and the wooden bowl poisoned any child who used it.

"What's the story behind all the rest of this stuff?"

Rodriguez leaned back against the table. "A single guy turned in the toilet-paper dispenser. The stapler was owned by a company and turned in after passing to a receptionist. She wasn't fond of being nipped all the time for doing her job. Apparently its definition of flirting is rather strict.

"The knife was in a pawn shop, and we picked it up from the owner on a weekly check. Newlyweds figured out what was causing difficulties in their sex life and handed over the office chair. They were more than happy to be rid of something that caused them so many problems. I traced it back to the same company with the problematic stapler. They'd sold it after redecorating."

I was chuckling at this point.

"The pewter cup earned a bad rap at a themed restaurant. They were using it as a joke cup when an officer seized it." His face fell. "The rest were a bit more sinister. The wooden bowl almost killed a child. Thankfully, the warlock at the hospital neutralized the poison. The vase did take someone's hand off. I got the hand back and the hospital fixed them up."

"Where did they get those from?" I really wanted to find some of the people who hexed these things and feed them to their own creations.

He shook his head. "They found them at a garage sale and secondhand shop. You know we can't fight garage sales, and way too much stuff goes through most secondhand shops for us to check everything."

"I know. I just hate that people spell things and let the stuff loose on unsuspecting strangers. If you want to hex something to kill your spouse, fine, but don't hurt other people too. Not that I approve of spouse killing, just that you shouldn't be irresponsible with magical items." Great. Now I sounded like an idiot, and Rodriguez was laughing at me.

"Not well put, but good point. It's one thing if you want to use a magical item, but the next person who gets it may not be lucky enough to know what it does."

"Yeah, that sounded better." I looked away before asking, "Is there anything you need my help on?"

"Now that you mention it, a colleague of mine in Ellijay had a few evil sensors go off, or go off-line. I think it's gremlins, but I could be wrong. Any thoughts?"

"Anything you're leaving out?" Gremlins were annoying, troublesome, sometimes the forerunners of greater evil, but usually harmless.

"No, but you know how these things go."

He had a point. Oftentimes, there wasn't a lot of warning during the growth of something nasty. It would be silly to waste resources on gremlins, but equally foolish to miss something dangerous.

"Was it in one area or all over?"

"Most of them were in one area, but a few of them were in the rest of town."

"I'd put a few better sensors near the main problem area. And keep a look out for gargoyles. There may be a few groups migrating through. I'd let the other departments know you want to talk to any gargoyles that pass by."

"Can you actually talk to them? I've never dealt with any gargoyles."

"Sure. They don't often speak English, so you may need language spells, but they're very intelligent and usually nice. Remember they guard against evil and even reduce the power of evil. If you can find a large flock and persuade them to roost here, it would help. Tell your friend to call me if anything else happens. I don't charge for chatting."

"I'll pass on the information. Are we on the clock or off?"

"Eh, off. I don't like to charge for talking. What's on your mind?"

"The local werewolf pack has been having a lot of dominance fights—sanctioned, of course, but the unrest is upsetting the rest of the pack. Nothing bad has happened, but I'm worried it's going to get serious or they're going to be taken over. I don't like the way things are going right now, but until recently the pack's been stable."

"I'll see what I can find out. People seem to be saying there's trouble, but they don't know what kind of trouble."

"Thanks. Also, I've been talking to a lot of the guys like me, hedge-practitioners, and we wanted to know if there was anywhere we could take some classes and learn better ways to use our power."

I studied him for a moment, and he explained more.

"Part of the reason we call you so often is because we don't know what to do or how to do it even if we do. Most of us were taught a few things by family members and ended up with this position because we could use magic."

"The police don't have a school for you?" I'd always thought that the police trained them and had procedures for them to follow.

"Yes, but they aren't very good. It's only been in the past fifteen years that we've been considered for these jobs. Before this, there were more witches on staff. Then the clans held a big meeting and started setting up firms because they could make more money in industry or with their companies. Without witches in these jobs, someone had to fill the gap. Every department has been managing the lack of witches differently, and there aren't enough hedge-practitioners to make things work in lower-income areas or outside cities."

"Huh. I didn't know that. What kind of class would you want?" I might be able to help them, but I wasn't sure.

"We want to start at the basics and go from there. None of us have a complete skill set. We need to be better practitioners. I don't want to end up like Cass."

Cass had been a hedge-wizard in South Georgia. He'd died after tangling with a charmed lamp. He'd had the ability to determine the type of spell, but not the training. The results of the investigation encouraged departments to hire people like me so they would have an expert on call. "I'll think about it and talk to a few people. If I offer classes, I'll make sure everyone thinks it's my idea."

"Thanks, Michelle." A smile broke across his face. "I owe you."

"You do. Don't call me at three in the morning, and we'll be even."

"No promises," he returned with a grin.

I headed out with a growing to-do list. The werewolves were something to think about, but usually there was more smoke than fire. I'd fish for more information, but werewolf problems weren't my problem.

The map was my problem, and it was turning into a pain in my rump. As annoying as it would be to drive to Forsyth for the map, I wanted to know why it wasn't working almost as much as the sheriff. Spells didn't usually give me this much trouble.

The classes were a way I could make a difference in other practitioner's lives. If they were well trained, they would be better at their jobs, and I could spend less time on small things. I wouldn't mind acquiring more departments or being able to devote all my attention to one big case.

I didn't know the exact limitations of hedge-practitioners, or how to teach them the basics. Would the basics be the same for them? I needed to talk to my mom and to an old teacher of mine. It would be a good time to get their thoughts on the map spell and troll mess.

Seeing the car clock, I realized I didn't have enough time to go home before meeting the girls at Ronnie's Pizza. I'd be a little bit early, but early was better than late for the first girls' night in weeks.

Pulling into the parking lot, I was happy it didn't look too crowded. I sauntered in and settled at the big table in the back. It was our favorite table because it had room for the three of us to spread out and lots of space for food.

Tiffany arrived first, her short pixie cut accenting her delicate features. This month's color was a burgundy, which looked spectacular with her olive skin and brown eyes.

"Hey, darlin', how are you?" She slid in next to me, giving me a one-armed hug as she grabbed a menu.

I fished out two more menus, sticking one in Amber's seat. "I'm busier than I'd like to be. Do you know when… never mind. Amber's here."

"So I'm the slow one today? That's rare. I guess you guys really missed me." Amber was striking, slender, and cheerful.

"We just got here. Let's catch up after we order. What do you guys want?" Tiffany loved to eat.

"I'm getting breadsticks and a calzone with black olives, mushrooms, spinach, onions, pepperoni, and green olives." I loved that calzone.

"Oh." Amber looked so excited. "They have that bruschetta pizza again. I'm getting a medium so I can take leftovers home, and I'll get some garlic bread."

"That does sound good." Tradition was we each ordered a different dish, so I would be getting a piece of the delicious pizza.

"The Italian sausage and pepperoni stuffed pizza is just too good to resist, and I'll get a large order of cheese rounds."

"Can I get drinks for you?" The waiter was cute and efficient. We ordered drinks and the mountain of food.

"I have to go first. Mark finally asked me out!" Amber squealed.

"We'll have to toast when the drinks get here." It didn't matter what we were drinking. We always toasted good news.

"When's the first date?" Tiffany had a point. We'd been waiting for Mark to ask Amber out for a couple of months.

"Tomorrow. He's taking me out to dinner. He wouldn't say where, just that it was casual and we'd have fun there."

"A little surprise never hurt anyone. You'll have to tell us how it goes next week. I'm not letting another police emergency get between me and girl's night."

"What happened last week? We got your text, but you didn't tell us what was going on." Tiffany always wanted to know what I was working on. Her curiosity made her a great private investigator. The waiter returned with the drinks.

"We'd moved dinner to Thursday because Amber had to work late on Friday, right?" They nodded. "I missed last week because I was called to a house to remove a copper sun sculpture they'd recently acquired. It was shooting fireballs at everyone who tried to come in." I managed to finish without laughing.

Amber fought off the giggle long enough to ask, "Seriously?"

"I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. I think a witch enchanted it as a door guard. The couple who purchased it didn't know it was so lively."

Tiffany looked sadly into her drink. "I never do anything that fun."

"Hon, you make twice what I do, maybe three times. What were the last three cases you worked, cheating spouses?"

"Yes."

"You get to keep fairly regular hours, and you're paid a lot of money to take pictures. If I didn't like this so much, I'd quit and work with you."

"You're both being silly." Amber was a peacemaker. "Michelle, you can't take a good picture to save your life. Tiffany, you can't do magic." We smiled and shrugged.

"How's the office?" Tiffany asked. Amber worked at a law firm as a paralegal between turning furry—well, feathery—once a month. She shifted into a peahen.

"Same as always. Nothing crazy good or bad. Have you guys heard about the werewolves?" Tiffany shook her head.

I answered because I wanted to know more. "I heard they were having trouble."

"Oh, yeah. They have problems. Everyone likes the current alpha, Simon, but his son, Adder, has been moving up and no one likes him. A few people think he's cool, but mostly he's strange. I mean really strange. Adder is bloodthirsty, violent, bad-tempered, and hell on four legs in a fight. The pack is worried that he's going to make a bid for alpha and kill his father. No one in the pack can take him out without challenging him, but they know they can't beat him in a fight." Amber paused for the arrival of the food.

We traded around bits of appetizers and gossip. "The other shifters can take him out if he hurts someone outside the pack. Until then, we should hope for his untimely demise." I wouldn't hold my breath. Shifters were hard to kill.

"Right. I'm hoping some third party not bound by our rules will fix this, but I doubt it. I'm worried. He's a bad one." The last crazy werewolf had killed fifteen people and injured dozens before the police arrested him. I had a bad feeling Adder was headed down that path, and the police would want me to be on the front line.

Chapter 10: Michelle

"Dang it, Mom, pick up your phone," I complained before the phone was tossed on the passenger seat. She hadn't answered last night or the three times I'd called this morning. I didn't usually show up at her house without warning, but I couldn't warn her if she didn't answer. Now I was worried about her.

Rolling to a stop next to Mom's car, I tried to figure out why Mr. Richards's car was here. If it wasn't his car, I really wanted to meet the other person who had a "Clans and Spam: bad for the health" bumper sticker on an original VW Bug.

I walked up the steps of the brick house and mashed the doorbell. Nothing happened. I punched the little button a few times and heard the annoying chime. Someone shuffled around inside, but the door wasn't answered. Exasperated, I banged on it. "Mom, let me in. I've been calling all day. This is silly."

Mom cracked open the door, blocking me from entering. "Michelle, I didn't know you were coming."

"You should have. I think I've called ten times." I pushed past her.

"That was you? I thought it was a wrong number." She reluctantly pushed the door closed behind me.

"It was me, Mom. Why didn't you answer?" Odd. Her shirt and pants didn't match, and she wasn't wearing any makeup. Not that she needed any, but she liked to accent her auburn hair with a touch of green eye shadow.

"I was busy."

"Busy with what? Is Mr. Richards here?" Mom and I might not always agree, but things were usually smoother.

"Just busy. No. Why would you think that?"

I pointed out the window. "Because that's his car."

She blinked. "No, it isn't. His was… newer."

I snorted. "Last time he was here it was newer, but that's been years. Now, it's even older. I need to talk to him. If he isn't here, can I have his number?"

"No." Mom paused, eyes darting back and forth. "He's dead. I'm sorry, I thought you knew, but he died six months ago."

"Remarkable." It was silly to think that he had died and Mom hadn't told me. He'd been the picture of health last time I'd seen him, and Mom was being weird. "So, if that's not his car, and he's not here, who is here?"

Her face fell and her eyes darted to the kitchen and back. "Let's go get some tea."

"All right." This wasn't normal behavior for Mom.

She paused at the counter and tilted her head like she was talking to someone telepathically. I heard footsteps in the hall before she turned to address me. "Michelle, I'd like you to meet—"

"Me, Greg Nelson."

Greg looked to be the same age as my mother, which was more of a phase than an age. For a larger portion of their adult life, witches had an ageless quality. They didn't look like a kid anymore, but they didn't look old either. He was a tall warlock, all legs and arms, with a bit of gray edging his black hair.

Confused by Mom's worried look, I carefully shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Nelson. I'm Michelle Oaks, but I think you know that."

Mom set a tray on the table and handed a mug and tea infuser to me. I poured the hot water over the tea and added a bit of sugar before I sat. This was all so strange. "How long have you known my mother?"

"A while."

"When did you meet?"

"Some time ago."

"But when was that some time ago?'

The hint of a smile left his face. "It doesn't matter."

Taking the hint, I turned to Mom. "Do you want to help me teach some classes? I need one person that I can guarantee will be there, and you know how my days are."

"What kind of classes?" She was darting glances at Greg, but trying to appear serene.

"I want to start a class for hedge-practitioners to go over the basics and from there build to harder classes. The police don't have a system for training their practitioners, and I've been thinking about giving some classes to help them."

"I don't know. It could be fun. It's been a long time since I taught anyone outside work." Mom was a medical practitioner at the local hospital.

"I was hoping you could put me in touch with some of my old teachers. I have a tricky bit of magic that I'm working on, and I'd like some advice. Do you think you could help me, or are the rest of them dead too?"

"Perhaps I might be of use," Greg interjected. "I am more skilled at advanced magic than your mother, and I would be more than willing to try." He looked entirely too eager.

"It's complicated," I answered.

"I'm sure it is. Why don't you tell me, and I'll try to help." I was quiet long enough for him to add, "I mean you and your mother no harm."

I studied him before answering. "Did you hear about the escaped trolls?"

"Yes, I think most of the country knows by now."

"Thanks a lot," I muttered. "I'm trying to help the police capture them, but I don't have anything that belonged to those particular trolls. I managed to work up a spell that would for the most part track trolls."

"How'd you do the spell? It makes a difference for these things, you know."

My eyes narrowed. He sounded just like Mr. Richards. "I took a map and using soil told it not to look for trolls inside the boundaries of that ground. Then, taking a mix of troll's blood, I told it to look for something like that, but not exactly that blood. The next day, I told it not to look for human-type blood because it had been picking up on nontrolls. I'm not sure what exactly it's showing now, but I've got about double the indicators that I should." Carefully sipping my tea, I discovered it was cool enough to drink.

"Why can't you get something that belonged to each troll? That would be easier." I was glad he didn't sound condescending, just curious.

"For some reason they can't figure out which trolls escaped, never mind provide me with a belonging." If I sounded frustrated, it's because I was.

"Who runs the preserve?"

"I don't know, but they seem rather incompetent." I sighed. "Can you help me with the spell?"

"You did the spell perfectly, from the sound of it." Again, he sounded like Mr. Richards.

"Then why did fifteen people walk all over the area that the map showed a troll in and find every sign of trolls, but no trolls?"

"Caves?"

"I don't think there are a lot of caves in that area, but I could be wrong."

"What does the habitat that they live in look like?"

I was confused. It was never this hard to get Mom on the phone, and she was jumpy. I pushed those feelings away and answered the question. "A lot of big rocks that were crafted to look like caves. The caves are mostly in a field and have cameras embedded in them."

"I think they found a way to hide underground, or moved just before the searchers went out looking for them." He started to munch on a scone my mother had set on the table.

"Great, but do you have anything helpful to add?" I didn't have any other good ideas.

"Why can't they tell you which trolls are missing?"

I swallowed some tea, wishing it would calm me down. "Darn good question. I don't have an answer."

"Have you tried a spell, or a lodestone, to help guide the police once they're in the same area as the trolls?" Greg asked.

"I've been thinking about a lodestone. If you think it'll help, I'll make one."

"It can't hurt."

"Did that help, dear?" Mom had been uncharacteristically quiet through the exchange.

"Yes, it did." Knowing what she expected, I continued with, "Thank you, Mr. Nelson."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help more. What was this about classes you wanted to hold for hedge-practitioners?"

"I'd never really thought about it, but when I talked to them they told me they were trained by family members. They don't know how to make the best use of their powers. I want to set up a series of three classes to start with to review basics and build their base of knowledge."

"Do you know much about how their power works?"

"Not as much as I'd like. Why?" Perhaps he'd be more useful than he was with my troll problem.

"I know a little about the subject. More importantly, I know several books that are very helpful. I'll write down the titles for you."

"Thanks." Why wasn't Mom talking? What was really going on here? "Mom, I still need a second teacher for the class. I can't be sure that I'll always be there, and I can't make it work if I'm rescheduling all the time."

"I'll think about it. Why don't I call you tomorrow?" She flashed a look at Greg.

"I drove all the way up here because I called you over a twelve-hour span and you didn't answer the phone. I'd like an explanation for that. I'd like to know why you keep acting funny. I'd like to know what he's doing here with Mr. Richards's car."

Knowing she would yell at me, I did something unbelievably rude. I grabbed Greg's hand and pulsed magic across his skin before he had a chance to pull away. Releasing him, I leaned back in my chair.

"And I'd really love to know why he has the same aura as the dearly departed Mr. Richards. Anything you want to share?"

Greg studied my mother. "We agreed years ago, mostly because you felt this would be better, that this was how things should be. We've passed the point where your reasons are valid. You know my feelings on this, Nancy."

She glared at him, the corners of her mouth pinching. "My reasons are just as valid today, if not more so. I fail to see why things should change."

They were hiding something from me and had been for a long time by the sound of it. With one suspicion after another rolling through my mind, I listened to the rest of their disagreement.

"Let the past stay in the past. The arrangement was never intended to be permanent. Fear is clouding your judgment, like it did years ago." He looked dead set on what he was saying.

"Fine. Do what you want. Ruin everything we've done." She crossed her arms and looked at the ceiling.

"We've done, Nancy?" he demanded. "What we? You did everything. I was left with scraps and lies. You left me with nearly nothing, and I made the best of it. I'm not letting you do that to me again. If you don't want to be a part of this, then just walk outside while I get the first real chance I've ever had to—"

"Children," I yelled, having heard enough. "Can you excuse me or explain? This is fascinating, but it would be more fun if I knew what you were fighting about."

They both turned to look at me, as if surprised to see me sitting here.

"Now, I don't know what this is about, but I don't think acting like children is the way to solve it. Frankly, I want answers."

Greg sighed. "Probably not." He turned to look at my mom. "Nancy, I don't think you can stop me."

"Fine, but this isn't going to end well."

"Your complaint is noted." He settled back in his chair, visibly attempting to calm himself with breathing exercises. "Michelle, did you ever wonder how you and your mother came to be here, outside a clan?"

I squirmed, not happy with the direction this was taking. "Sure, but I had a good life, and Mom didn't seem unhappy most of the time so I didn't worry about it much."

"Perhaps not." He looked thoughtful. "There are many things I would like to explain, but let me start with the simplest. I am Mr. Richards, or I pretended to be a man by that name. I am a wizard of considerable power, and most importantly I am your father." He didn't pause long for me to get used to the idea. "I'm most of the reason you ended up here. Your mother, as you know, is not the most powerful witch."

He pulled her hand into his lap, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. Her posture softened as she relaxed against him. "Her clan was dissatisfied with her power and career. When she started to behave in ways her mother, and clan, didn't approve of, they threatened to exile her. Her clan thought she was in a relationship with a human. They found out she was pregnant and exiled her.

"By the time she was exiled, we were worried about the child, you. We didn't think it was safe for her to go back to her clan, or come to mine. Witches rarely bother exiles, but a witch who's been adopted by another clan is a different story. Both of you would be safer here in Ellijay. I couldn't come live with you, for various reasons. By the time you were born, your mother had decided that it would be better if I wasn't around. Reluctantly, I agreed, and we kept our relationship from you.

"She did the best she could to teach you, but when it became apparent that you would surpass her, she reached out to a few trusted friends. Once Mrs. Rinds was teaching you, we knew we couldn't keep going to outside sources. Even our good friends were held accountable by their clans. At that point, we were in too deep to change the story. I was the only one who could teach you, so I became Mr. Richards. After you moved out, your mother and I started arguing about the best way to proceed. This was never meant to be a permanent solution." His voice trailed off.

I listened to every word without saying a thing. I'd always known I had a father, even if I didn't know him. I'd also known my upbringing was unconventional for a witch. It hadn't taken me too long to realize there was something strange about Mr. Richards, but he'd threatened to leave if I ever investigated. As my emotions settled, I became bitterly angry.

"Hi, Dad. It's nice to meet you. I wish I could have met you, oh, twenty-five years ago. I wish on every tree in the forest I could understand the reasons for all this, but I don't think you're going to tell me. Dad, are you still worried about me knowing who you are? Mom, did you ever think I might like a dad?" They didn't say anything. "Those were questions, damn it. You owe me that much."

Greg, or Dad, sighed gustily. "Nancy, don't you dare scold her for this. I imagine I'd feel about the same." He looked back to me. "Honestly, yes. Most of the reasons we were afraid still apply, but even our long lives are too short to live in lies. I want to know my daughter. I can protect you, not that you need much help these days. Your mother and I both questioned my involvement in your life, and I missed you every day. She knew it would be hard on you, but trust me when I say we did the best we could. In hindsight, I think we made the right choices. Things have worked out so far, but we don't know what would have happened if we'd done things differently."

"I want to know the rest." Seriously, you'd think people were out to kill all of us.

"No." Mom finally spoke up. "Michelle, we love you too much to tell more. We need to take things slow, make new plans slowly. If that goes well, your father and I will consider it, but not right now."

"I'm old enough to be out on my own, and you're still going to pat me on the head and tell me not to worry?" I didn't get it. I didn't get any of it. They lied for years, and now because some of the truth was out, I was supposed to be all right with everything.

"Michelle, one of the benefits of your upbringing was the separation from the clans. It's also the greatest weakness. I know you're mad at me, but trust me, we need to be careful." Tears were welling up in Mom's eyes.

"Fine. I need time to think about this. Mom, I also need to know if you'll help me teach those classes. Dad, it was great to meet you." I grabbed my purse and started out of the house.

"Michelle, wait." Greg was following me. "Here, take the book names." He pressed the list into my hand. "I don't think Nancy would be the best fit for those classes, but I'd like to help. I'd also like a chance to get to know you as my daughter."

"The money won't be anything close to great, the people won't know any of the same things, and I may be called away at any time. The first class will be six sessions with a seventh class as a makeup and review. If it all goes well, and I still have interested students I'll be offering more classes." I pulled out a business card. "Call or e-mail; let me know your contact information. I'll let you know more details when I have them. Thanks for the tips with the trolls."

The drive home didn't give me nearly enough time or space to think. I was terrified that if I started to think I would forget I was driving and crash. Rather than facing whoever was in the dining room, I grabbed a plate from the kitchen. Landa would understand once I explained. Heck, odds were she already knew.

I sat on the ground, leaning against the bench in the garden. I ate food, but until the end of the meal I couldn't have told you more than that. I felt angry, sad, betrayed, deprived, and hurt. I felt loved and cherished. Confusion ruled all the emotions running through me.

My parents had lied and wrecked their own lives for over twenty years because of me. They had lived without each other, and in fear. They'd known I would be angry and hurt. Everything they'd done had been for me, knowing I might not forgive them. Mom had given up everything that her clan could have given her. I wasn't sure what Greg, Dad—whatever I called him—had been doing, but I doubted he'd been happy. Mom had worked strange shifts at the hospital to be with me as often as possible, and Greg was working two jobs while he was tutoring me.

I was left without a doubt of my parent's love for me, but I was still hurt and sad. I knew my emotions would be erratic until I completely came to terms with the new facts of my life. It may have been silly, but it was going to take time to sort everything out.

They wanted to protect me, to help me. They were trying to do what was best for me. It was dumb to blame them for decisions long in the past. It was time to move forward, make memories with my father, and as a family. If we were in as much danger as they thought, we should cherish every moment together as if it were the last.

Long after finishing with lunch, I sat in the garden, feeling the peace and happiness of the earth. Realizing I had spent two hours outside, I left, trying to keep the perspective I'd gained. I slipped the plate into the kitchen, glad that Landa wasn't there. I wasn't ready to talk about everything. Snuggling into bed, I set an alarm for an hour later. I needed to let my brain shut down and process before letting things go for a while.

*******

"What do you mean they don't keep track of individual trolls?" The nap had been great, but what should have been a simple call to Jones was turning into another headache, something I didn't need today.

"They finally admitted that they can't tell us which individuals are missing because they don't know. According to them, they don't have tracking devices in them, keep records for each individual troll, or know more than how many trolls they house."

I ground my teeth, flipping through pages of notes to what I'd read off their website. "Then why does the United States government employ twenty-three people to look after these trolls? Why does the website say, 'We are actively researching troll culture, mating habits, preferred environments and seeking donations to support these and many other studies.' Why did they go on to say how much the funding, both federal and private, had helped increase knowledge of troll society?" My life should have been a study for Murphy's Law. Everything that could go wrong did, and always in the worst way.

"Trust me, the FBI and several law firms are jumping all over this. No one's said it yet, but they're all whispering about lawsuits," Jones said.

"Perfect. That doesn't help me at all. Do they at least have the tape from the hundreds of cameras in that dump?" I asked. If they had the video, I had something resembling a plan.

"Eh, not as much as they should, but I think they have about a week's worth from before the explosion, and they've been recording constantly since the explosion."

"Great. What if I got you an expert, or more of an expert than anyone at the preserve, to look at the footage?"

"It would have to come out of what we're paying you already, and I still need a better way to track those beasts."

"Done. Expert or not, I'll be there tomorrow, and I want a box of recordings ready to come home with me. I'm going to figure out a way to get those trolls back."

"I'll make sure it's ready for you. Do you have a time you'll be up here?"

"How's ten thirty?" I offered, not wanting to get up early.

"Great, I'll see you then."

Hearing his phone click, I hung up as well. I knew one or two who could be considered experts, but I wasn't sure who would agree.

Catching my head in my hands, I stared at the grain of the wood. Realizing that procrastination might be the better part of valor, and since I'd have more information tomorrow, I checked my e-mail. A note from my father with a reminder to look up the books and a few lines about how he hoped to hear from me was strange. Seeing his note, I continued my procrastination by making flyers and a course description for the first hedge-practitioner class. Finally, I e-mailed that to my father, asking him to tell me exactly what he thought should be covered in the class. I also suggested some dates and times and typed a polite reply to his hopeful note.

I was still surprised that he'd volunteered to teach, since we would be covering basic magic. I headed down for dinner with the guests. Maybe I'd get lucky and find a troll expert.

I walked into utter chaos. Landa was screaming, "I'll not have a poltergeist in my house. Be gone, you!"

Mander, Landa's husband, was hiding under the table, braiding strips of the tablecloth into a rope. I could feel the magic he was channeling into the rope. Priscele was crouched behind a chair, screaming incoherently. The screams were a bit muffled because she was curled up, shielding her head and neck with her arms. A brownie couple had taken cover in the cabinets under the sideboard, peeking out just enough for me to identify them. Two dwarves had pulled out axes and were trying, unsuccessfully, to kill the spirit. They looked to be enjoying themselves, if the war cries were any indication.

The poltergeist in question looked like an eight-year-old boy but was zooming overhead to drop plates on anyone unfortunate enough to be exposed. A croaking sound attracted my attention, and I spied a frog hopping down the table. The poltergeist hurled a plate at Landa, who reversed the plate's flight back to him. I wouldn't have thrown a plate at her, knowing brownies in general and Landa in particular. With a squeak, he ducked, and the plate bounced off the wall behind him before coming to rest under the table. Even an enraged Landa had enough control to prevent a plate from shattering. With a frown, he pelted plates at the dwarves. The ones Landa couldn't catch didn't make it past the axes. Apparently, they were defensive weapons too, shields being unnecessary.

A plate was hurled at me. Dodging, I realized I'd been still a moment too long. Thinking quickly, I pulled my wand out of my pocket and pointed it at the ghost. Focusing on encasing and solidifying, I shouted, "Fehu," as he swooped down to the table. A ghost-sized block of ice dropped onto the table, rocking back and forth before stopping.

"Oh, there you are, dear. I was hoping you'd come down." Landa didn't look pleased to have a frozen poltergeist on her table, but it was better than the alternative. "Thank you for helping us with him."

"I didn't know what else to do. Do you think it will hold him?" I tapped the ice gently, but nothing happened.

"Aye, it'll do for a time. Mander, could you put him in the freezer? We wouldn't want him to thaw." Mander pulled the magic out of his bit of rope before hoisting the two-and-a-half-foot-long and foot-wide block of ice off the table. I held the kitchen door open for him.

"You run an exciting business." The dwarves looked amused. They put their axes away, and the brownie couple emerged from the cabinets.

"It wasn't intentional." Landa surveyed the mess of a room. "The food on the table isn't fit to eat, but the sideboard looks fine. I'll bring a plate of appetizers to the parlor while I clean this up. It shouldn't take but a minute." None of us were willing to argue.

It looked like everyone had just settled down to eat when the fun started. The table was adorned with a now-tattered-looking tablecloth, which Mander had been slicing apart to repurpose as rope. The top was covered with the broken remains of dinner plates, glasses, and lots of food.

We all walked across the hall with fresh glasses, pitchers, and a few plates of food following. Everyone started to relax as we settled down to munch. I felt bad for Landa, but she would have it cleaned up in a jiffy. Brownies were skilled at house repairs and cleaning.

I wasn't sure what the long-term solution for the poltergeist would be; I'd never encountered one like this before. All I'd done was freeze the water in the air around and inside him. He couldn't move out of it because he was fully encased. Poltergeists couldn't pass through solid objects. They had to find a crack or space to move through. Theoretically, he could be encased in the ice forever, never moving but alive and aware of his surroundings.

Trent and Blenda, the dwarves, were vacationing from Boston. The brownies, Nelda and Sandar, were just staying for two days. They were moving from Washington, DC to Oklahoma and needed a break from the traveling. They'd sent most of their possessions with a moving service and wanted to sightsee as they moved.

Landa called us back into the dining room. The table was presentable, though lacking a centerpiece. The food looked unmolested, and fresh dishes had been supplied. "I apologize for the excitement. You can be sure I'll not have that mongrel in the house again."

"Not a bother. A wee bit of excitement is good for the soul," Trent replied.

I raised my mug. "To excitement." I'd barely swallowed my lavender tea when my phone started buzzing on my hip. A quick peek informed me that my mother was calling. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get this."

In the hall, I took a deep breath before answering. "Hi, Mom."

"Michelle, I'm so glad you answered. I wanted to see how you're doing."

"Mom, I really can't talk right now."

"I know you're busy, but we need to talk about things."

"You mean my father."

"If I meant your father I would have said as much. We need to talk about everything that's gone on." She sounded upset.

"Mom, I'm busy, and worried. Can we talk about this later?"

"I don't like it when there's this distance between us."

I sighed and started rubbing my temples. She was right. We were always on good terms, and I'd rarely felt unable to talk to her. But right now it was all I could do to balance the rest of my life. I didn't have the energy to spend on Dad, her relationship with him, or my relationship with him.

"Honestly?" She didn't protest so I continued. "The best thing I can do right now is try not to think about him. As selfish as it sounds, I'm worried about my business. There are people depending on me, and I feel like I'm letting them down. As for the relationship the two of you had behind my back—"

"That's not fair. For a long time we didn't see each other, and for many years it was dinner at a mutual friend's house once a month. We stopped everything to keep you safe. Only recently have we felt safe enough to have the visits you interrupted."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"Don't be. You needed to meet him eventually, and I know this must be frustrating for you."

"It is, but at the same time, being angry doesn't help. All that is done—in the past. The best thing I can do is accept how things are now. I'd like a relationship with my father, and I have that chance."

"Oh, I've wanted you to have a relationship with him from the time you were born. I know he's wanted to be a real father for you, and he's excited to have a chance." Her voice broke.

"Please, don't cry, Mom. I'm going to try, really try to have a relationship with him. We've been e-mailing. He's going to help me with the class I'm teaching." I paused for effect. "What I said before still applies. I need to focus on work and leave everything else alone right now."

"All right." She perked up. "Now, that's settled. Your father and I would like to have you over for Thanksgiving. It would be an evening event since he has obligations early in the day. Do you think you could come?"

Chapter 11: Michelle

It was a long drive to Forsyth, but I didn't have a choice. Late-night phone calls with Mom, a poltergeist, and sleep deprivation weren't excuses for an unfinished job. I needed to pick up the recordings from the troll preserves too. There was nothing like meeting my long-lost father to upset my equilibrium.

Luckily, last night's drama had been tidied up rather nicely. Landa had called an old friend who had experience with unruly children of all races. The boy was on his way to a better life. Not only would the people there care for him, but some of them would also be lacking a corporeal form.

The dinner drama had cut into my sleep, but my father was the reason for the headache. It was hard enough to accept my father back into my life without Mom meddling and guilting me into a holiday with him.

I'd never missed having a dad. Now, I missed all the moments he should have been there, the things he should have taught me. We'd missed so many memories. He should have been there to scare my prom dates, and tell my boyfriends to have me back by nine. It bothered me that fear had kept us from being the family we should've been.

On the bright side, I'd finalized the information for the beginning practitioners' class this morning. Between the insomnia and my tech-savvy father, the class material nearly assembled itself. With my website updated, handouts in Rodriguez's hands, and a second teacher, I was ready for students.

Walking into the Forsyth office, I turned my mind to the problems at hand. There was a note from Jones telling me he was in a meeting. Odd. He hadn't mentioned it last night.

Retrieving a small pebble from my bag, I inspected it physically and magically. It was a good solid rock, cleansed and purified of negative energy. I pulled on gloves before carefully sliding my hand and the pebble through the spells on the bowl of troll blood. I dipped the stone in, making sure it was fully covered in blood before pulling the rock out. I took a moment to check the spells on the bowl; I hadn't damaged them or left any weaknesses.

Constantly rolling the pebble in the small pool of blood it left in my palm, I started to weave the spell. Focusing my power through a soldering iron, I slowly burned the runes for finding and attraction through the blood and onto the rock. Using the runes, I told the pebble to look for things with blood like what it was absorbing. I told it to glow brighter as it moved closer to something it was tracking. The pebble was to change from a yellow light to a green light when it was within ten feet of the things it was tracking. Finished, I set it on the work bench and penned a quick note to Jones detailing what it did.

The map captured my attention. The dots had moved, and Jones had added a few notes on a pad at the bottom of the table. Ten spare dots had been identified as giants that lived in the county. He'd put stickers on the glass where they worked or lived.

"Michelle, you're still here."

I looked up to see Jones leaning against the door. "Is that a problem?"

"No, I was hoping I'd catch you. I would've called, but I left my phone in here, per orders." His smile was gone, replaced by a wrinkled brow and smudges under his eyes.

"What can I help you with?"

"I have bad news." Hearing those words, I sat, worried and frightened. "Sheriff Davis has been replaced by Assistant Sheriff Carls until farther notice. Before you ask, it looks like Sheriff Davis was attacked last night at Walmart. He was severely beaten with a tire iron and is in intensive care. As of an hour ago, he was in a coma, and they didn't know when he would regain consciousness."

"He's in intensive care?" I whispered. Werebears could take serious damage and bounce back. They had a heavy bone structure and thick skin before they shifted.

"Yes. Right now he's in a coma, but they think he'll recover in a few weeks. We're searching for the perpetrator, but the surveillance cameras at the store weren't connected so we don't have any footage of the attack."

I hadn't known him well, but he had been a good guy and a good boss. "You said Carls is in charge now?"

He sighed. "Yes, which might be worse news than the sheriff's injuries. Carls is human and doesn't understand or value magic. He isn't fond of any other races. None of us is sure how he ended up as the assistant sheriff."

"Great. He's gonna be on my case, isn't he?"

"Yeah, I'd count on it. Anyway, I have more news."

"Bad?"

"Not great. So we've discovered it was a large group who plotted to bring several trolls into modern civilization and reintroduce them to the world as a species ready to join the civilized races. The kids we found were hiding the dead troll. The rest of the trolls are being hidden by members of this group who are trying to rehabilitate them. Even with the map, it isn't easy to find them. We've gone over the areas the map indicates, and they aren't there." Jones shrugged.

I held up the pebble. "This might help, but I feel like they have a way of knowing you're coming or they were never there to begin with. Are there any old mines around here?"

"The area isn't known for caves, but there might be a few places worth checking out." He looked thoughtful.

"The stone will help." I shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

"Anyway, Carls wanted to know if you could do a spell that showed connections between groups of people. We don't have a roster or emblem." He didn't sound very hopeful.

"Sorry, no, I can't. Even with those things, it would be tricky. Can't you get the information out of the kids?" How hard could it be to make kids talk?

"We tried. Whoever set this up was smart. They didn't know each other. The kids were a subgroup in the organization and received instruction through a contact. We've been tracking their e-mail addresses, but most of them were only accessed at public places that don't keep track of who used the computers."

This was a lot of trouble to grab a few trolls. "Someone doesn't want their involvement known."

"No kidding. I've seen assassination attempts that weren't this well planned. Trust me; we have a lot of people trying to figure out what's going on."

"Do you have any of my truth charms left?" I couldn't help with the investigation, but I could supply them with charms. Truth charms were keyed to a person by pressing their hair against the charm and could be used on a different person by exchanging the hairs. The charm turned a different color when a lie was spoken. It was unconstitutional to use charms or spells that forced people to tell the truth in police or governmental investigations. Privately, they were a huge seller. Some practitioners made a living selling truth charms of various types to jealous husbands and wives, suspicious mothers, and worried grandparents.

"No, do you have any?"

"One. I'll leave it with you. I'll make a new batch and overnight them to you, okay?"

"Sounds great." He paused. "Before I forget, I don't have the videos for you. The preserve had been cooperating, and then this morning they started telling us how the tapes were federal property and we couldn't see them. I'm sorry, Michelle."

"Seriously?"

"I wouldn't tease you about this."

"Just let me know when you get them."

"Will do. Do you want to grab lunch?" His stomach rumbled.

"Sure." I laughed. "Let's go."

A short drive to lunch, a long wait later, and I was headed to the table. Half of Jones's sub was already gone by the time I sat down and started on mine. "How much do you and the other police practitioners talk?"

He swallowed a big bite. "A bit, why?"

"I heard that something like this might be useful." I slid a flyer across the table, continuing to eat as he read.

"You might have heard right."

Laughing, I asked, "Can you ditch the cloak-and-dagger stuff? This isn't a big deal." He just looked at the table. I slid a small stack of flyers across the table. "If you know anyone who might be interested, give them one. I'm not here to judge, and I've got a great teaching partner. All the information is on there."

He grumbled a little bit. "Fine. I might know a few people who'd be interested."

"Thank you, Jones. I know it's a big favor."

"I figure I owe you."

"I don't count things that way, and you know it." I turned my attention to my cookie.

"You're a good girl, Michelle. You really are. If I was twenty years younger, I'd go after you myself."

"Thanks, Jones. You're not so bad yourself." I smiled. He was old enough to be my father, but he was a great guy with a great wife. He didn't flirt. He wasn't sexist, chauvinistic, or a jerk. Jones was attractive for his age and rapidly becoming a good friend.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?" He sounded curious, not accusatory.

"I don't know. I haven't dated anyone in a while, and I don't meet a lot of eligible guys my age. The guys I do meet don't seem interested, or they're on the wrong side of the law." I wanted another cookie now, because my dating life was depressing. "I don't meet a lot of witches, because I don't have a clan. I want kids someday, and most races aren't cross fertile. I'm scared to fall in love with a human. I don't want to watch my husband grow old and die while I'm in my prime."

"I didn't realize it was a sore spot. I'm sorry."

"You couldn't have known, and you didn't make me answer."

"Let me think on it. I might know a guy or two. You can trust me, right?"

"Yes, I trust you, silly. Just don't send me into a date totally blind. They still have to be willing to put up with my strange schedule."

Seriously, even if I could find a guy, how many guys would deal with a girlfriend who can't keep a date, can't plan ahead, and has to leave all the time? I didn't think many guys would be thrilled by that prospect.

Driving home, I was relieved that Jones hadn't realized how much the conversation had bothered me. I was lonely. I wanted more friends, a boyfriend, and people to go through life with. I didn't want just anybody. I wanted people who mattered to me and I mattered to them.

Relationships, be they with friends or prospective mates, should be special. Each relationship deserved to be equal, unique, and not compared to any other relationship. The friendship, or more, should stand on its own and not be held up by any one side. It should resonate with something inside you, connecting with the parts of you not everyone understands. Each relationship should bring many more good times than it does bad. It should bring you up if you're down and hold you when you can't hold yourself. Most of all, each relationship should be weighed against being alone, and if your heart doesn't say two would be better than one, you need to walk away.

I didn't have a boyfriend because I hadn't found anyone who valued the same things I did. I didn't have many friends because I applied a lot of the same values to friendships. I had great friends, but not many of them.

I'd just pulled in the driveway when my phone rang. "Oaks Consulting."

"Michelle, it's Clark from Fannin County. I need you up here now. I've got a mermaid suffocating." He read off the address, and I punched it into the GPS.

"I'm on my way, but you know it'll be nearly an hour before I get there." Mermaids needed water to breathe. A few mermaids could breathe on land, but it was an uncommon ability, mostly possessed by males.

"I know, but you should floor it. I think she's got enough water to make it that long, but I'm not sure and this water isn't good for her." I could hear a lot of stuff going on in the background but nothing reassuring.

"I can't fix the type of water."

"I know, but you can keep her alive long enough for us to get her someplace better."

"Done." We both hung up, and I hit the gas.

I worried the entire way there, breaking speed limits and trying to figure out how a mermaid had even gotten to that part of Georgia. There weren't any large bodies of water, and most mermaids were ocean based. The only mermaids that didn't live in oceans lived in large lakes or slow, deep rivers that emptied into the ocean. Long ago, merfolk were found in more remote areas, but hunting had driven them to larger bodies of water. Eventually, they lived exclusively in the ocean, but after the hunting ended they migrated back to fresh water.

I pulled my car off the road at the end of a line of police vehicles. I skidded to a stop in front of the first cop I found and snapped, "I'm the witch. Where's the mermaid?" He didn't even try to explain, but took off running. I followed him into the house and down a hall before we descended into the basement.

"Be careful of the glass," he called back. The floor was covered with a thin layer of water and glass. Sadly, I could also see old blood pools, nasty clothing, and syringes. I followed him past the remains of a disturbingly small tank, several beds, and cages. There was more than a little evidence that multiple species had been kept down here for an extended period of time. Several officers were collecting evidence and photographing everything. It didn't look like they'd been processing the scene for long.

The officer guided me to a door, gesturing that I should go in. I walked into a small bathroom with two medical practitioners, a witch and warlock, in trances, keeping the mermaid alive. The mermaid in question was trying to submerge as much of herself as possible in the nearly overflowing bathtub. She was pretty, with long white hair, olive skin, and a lovely shape. While trying to keep all of her under, she was also covering her rather ample bosom, which her captors must have left uncovered. Most merfolk were modest around humans, preferring some clothing. Her gills, slits on the side of her neck, were fluttering constantly.

Clark was talking to her in a low, steady voice. "We are going to make sure you live. You're going to be fine."

"Clark," I said gently. I didn't want to startle him. "What do you want me to do?"

He looked over at me. "Thank God. We need a bigger place for her, and it needs to be salt water. These two are about done in, and she can't stay in fresh water much longer." This was why he'd needed me. He couldn't do these spells.

"I can't make salt water out of nothing."

"There are bags of salt sitting upstairs."

"I can't do the spell with medics touching her. How long can she survive without them?" The two medical practitioners were keeping her alive, but they had to touch her or be very close to her skin. They wouldn't be able to help her while I was performing magic.

"Five minutes? I'm not sure. I think if you do the spell and we make the water saltier she'll have a better chance."

"Get a bag or two of salt down here. I'll work on this." He left as I put my bag across the sink. I pulled out my wand, hoping this would work. I'd never done this before.

I gently touched each of the practitioners. "I need you to stop treating her for a moment. I'm going to try to make a wall so she'll have more area to submerse herself."

The guy turned to the mermaid. "When she's done, we'll start treating you again. You're going to be fine." They stepped back to give me room to work.

I studied the traditional tub-and-shower combo. The way the shower was constructed, one molded piece, made my job easier. Thrusting energy through the shower, I etched runes in the plastic along the lip of the tub and up the walls. Directing with the wand, I spun out a thick blanket of magic.

Here. I motioned with the wand. Take shape from the runes. I want you to stretch from this side, down along this part, and up this side. I want you to seal so that nothing can fit between you. I want you to hold strong and stay.

Slowly, much more slowly than I liked, the barrier took shape. After the barrier was finished, I directed a little bit of power to turn on the water and change it to a shower setting. I started it on the warm side, knowing the hot water wouldn't last long, but warm water dissolved salt better than cold. She wouldn't be comfortable in the heat, but it wouldn't hurt her.

I turned around and found not only two guys with big bags of salt but a small ladder. "Could one of you climb up the ladder and slowly pour in the salt with the shower spray?"

"Not a problem."

I moved to give them more space; the bathroom wasn't large enough for everyone. Clark and the two medical practitioners were waiting outside while the salt was added. I motioned the warlock back to the tub, leaving the bathroom so he had space to work.

The warlock asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Not well." Her voice sounded strange, but it was audible. The warlock had performed a spell for us to hear her in English.

"Worse than before?"

"I don't like the warm water. I feel strange."

Looking around, I couldn't find any clothing.

"Michelle," Clark interrupted. "What are you looking for?"

"A shirt, anything she can wear." The poor thing didn't want to be showing off her assets.

"I grabbed a spare shirt while I was upstairs. For a while we were a lot more worried about keeping her alive than modesty." He tossed it over the top and the mermaid did her best to put it on as quickly as she could. Luckily it was a thick, dark T-shirt. I studied the water flow, realizing that it wasn't filling very fast.

"Clark, we need to bring more water down. This isn't filling fast enough." We needed a lot more water in a hurry. Stretching out my power, I flipped the water to cold because it carried more oxygen.

"We can haul water down or put a water hose down here, but I don't have any better ideas. Do you?"

"No. Do you have a long-term plan?" This wasn't going to work for long.

"I called the aquarium. They're sending equipment they use to transport dolphins and other mermaid-sized creatures. It won't be here for another hour or two."

"Miss?" The warlock was calling me.

"Call me Michelle. How is she?" He was still kneeling next to her. She was looking more comfortable, and I thought her color was better.

"She's looking better, but can I reach in without hurting the spell?" I wasn't sure why he was asking. He had to know more than just healing.

"Sure. Just make sure it stays sealed to your skin and reforms when you remove your hand." He flashed a smile at me, and I realized how attractive he was. He was tall, a bit over six feet, with brown hair and dimples. I pulled a card out of my pocket. "If something goes wrong, yell. This is my number in case I'm outside earshot. I always have my phone on me."

"Thanks," he called out as I walked back over to Clark.

"Let's get started on the water." I didn't want to think about my lack of love life. We started in the kitchen and laundry room, finding five-gallon buckets. I started filling those while Clark looked to see if hoses could reach the basement bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, we stopped when she was fully submerged. She still didn't look comfortable, but that was a distant third to alive and mostly healthy. Clark and I sat on the front steps, taking a break.

"You never did tell me what happened. I think you owe me an explanation at this point," I said. Greedily, I chugged fluids. Water had never tasted so good.

"We'd been looking into this human trafficking ring for a while and had finally gotten the evidence for a warrant. We knocked down the door, and a few guys started shooting. One of the guys was shooting from in the basement. Officers returned fire. When it was all said and done, several rounds had gone through the glass, and the tank shattered. She fell out, along with all the water. Luckily, she wasn't injured. We cleared the room, moved her to the bathtub, and had the two medics look at her. We still haven't gotten all her information, but we figured out fairly quickly that she needed salt water and couldn't breathe air. Anyway, I called you, and we moved the rest of the captives out. That's it. Will you stay to help move her to the truck?" He dropped his head into his hands, massaging the back of his neck.

"I doubt that's the full story, but I'm too tired to care. I'll stay for her. Are the aquarium people going to call or just show up?"

"I don't know. I'm going to sit here until someone makes me move," he said ruefully.

Laughing, I agreed. Minutes ticked by as we rested. In the distance a big diesel engine rumbled as it downshifted to make it up the hill. The truck rumbled closer, and I perked up. It might be the folks we'd been waiting for. The truck rolled to a halt in front of the house. It wasn't an eighteen-wheeler, but it was the little brother of one. It had a big aquarium logo on the side. Two guys jumped out, and headed over.

"Hey, we're looking for Matthew Clark. He said y'all needed help with a mermaid." I wasn't sure what to think about these two. They were about thirty and brawny. Nothing was remarkable other than the energy they put off. I was guessing they were shifters.

Clark stood up. "Nice to meet you." They shook hands. "I'm Clark. We have a mermaid that was being held against her will. Her original habitat was broken, and we need to move her to someplace more hospitable to marine life."

The same guy, with darker hair, spoke again. "The van is equipped with a large transportation tank and a small crane. We usually carry creatures to the truck in a special net. At the truck we attach them to the crane and then lower them into the tank."

I spoke up. "I'm worried about her going that long without being able to breathe. If you can carry her, I can hold a bubble of water around her."

The aquarium guys retrieved the net from the truck and followed us down to the impromptu tank. As soon as we reached the bathroom door, we had a problem. They couldn't fit the net through the door. I could remove the wall, but it would damage the shower and water would flood the room, dropping her to the bottom of the tub.

"What are you thinking?" Clark asked, while the guys stood by the door holding the net.

"I think I can make a shield and levitate her to the net."

"Are you crazy? You'll be exhausted after you do that, and for what, to prove you can?" Clark demanded.

I looked him in the eye. "That girl didn't deserve to be in the hands of human traffickers. I can do this. She might be able to survive without breathing for a few minutes, but that's unnecessary. She doesn't deserve to suffer more because I'll be tired. Help me help her."

Clark pursed his lips and finally waved me forward.

I looked at the unearthly beautiful girl. "I'm going to move you to a better place. Nod if you understand me." She nodded. "I need to take you out of the tub so we can move you. Is that okay?" She nodded again.

Concentrating through my wand, I formed a shield right around her, trapping the water in with her. Locking the shield in my mind, I found the magical threads holding the wall of her tank, and told them to allow her bubble through. Clark steadied me, and I rotated her on her back before directing her through the magical barrier and out the door.

The guys snapped open the net, and I slowly lowered her. They held her, relieving me of her weight. As soon as she settled on the net, I retracted the shield bubble around her until it only surrounded her head and gills. Behind me I could feel Clark open the drain on the tub.

I trailed the men because I needed to be close by to maintain the spell. At the truck, I watched them gently transfer her to the crane basket. One of them moved to the controls, raising her in the air. Before he swung her over the tank, I dropped the shield, not wanting to contaminate their water. The basket slid into the water, allowing her to slip over the side. The men secured the crane and the top of the tank.

When my focus wavered, I lost my balance, stumbling back to land on my butt. Crap, I'd been concentrating too hard and hadn't realized how much energy I'd been pushing. Stupid, stupid me.

Clark hurried over. "Michelle?"

I tried to wave him off. I was fine. Next thing I knew, I was being set in a chair on the porch.

"Michelle, I need you to drink this." I sipped at the glass held up to my mouth. It wasn't one of my brews, but it was a good energy stabilizer. Something else was slipped around my neck. Clark was hovering over me, and the truck was gone.

"I overextended, didn't I?"

"Yes, but I didn't keep an eye on you either."

"Hell, it's dark out now." The sky was an even blue, and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

"The sun goes down fast this time of year. It was starting to fade when we went back in for the mermaid, who is safely on her way to a better location." His furrowed brow wasn't reassuring.

"Could you bring my bag over? I need some food if I'm going to make it home in one piece."

"Are you sure you should drive?"

"I'm sure I shouldn't."

Chapter 12: Michelle

Hunger drove me down to an early breakfast. Runes could amplify power, but the energy still came from the practitioner. That's why humans had such a hard time being hedge-practitioners, never mind anything more; their bodies couldn't handle those types of energy fluctuations. There were few out-of-shape witches and even fewer fat ones; if you wanted to be able to do powerful magic, you needed to be in great shape.

Not only was I hungry, but I was still tired. With only one day off in the past week, the pace was beginning to wear on me. I didn't like it when my life was this crazy.

"Good morning, Landa." I went straight to the sideboard, grabbing anything that caught my eye.

"Good morning, child. You're the only one who's going to be down for a while. Do you want to tell me what's been on your mind?" Landa was far more perceptive than I'd like. She set a glass of water next to my plate and sat down across from me.

"Where is everyone?" I didn't want to answer her.

"Paxton's been out of town for a bit, and Baden's on vacation."

Paxton was the resident vampire. I hadn't realized he was away. Not surprising, considering how seldom I saw him when he was here. Baden was a shifter, a Bengal tiger to be exact. He'd been affiliated with a pack for as long as I'd known him but wasn't very involved in the pack. Baden was a real estate agent. I thought traveling channeled his need to roam.

"Troy, Shelly, and Jack moved out," she continued.

"Why'd they move out?" They'd all been fey of some kind, but it was odd that they'd moved out at the same time.

"They wanted to go live in nature for a time. I can't blame them. They're young and don't remember the way it was. I think they'll be back before winter really sets in," she finished with a chuckle.

They had picked the worst time of year to strike out on their own and try to live as their ancestors had. If they made it past the third full freeze, I'd be shocked. You wouldn't catch me roughing it outdoors in the winter.

"Now," Landa said. "I've answered your questions. Will you answer mine?"

I'd known she'd circle back around. "I don't want to."

"Darling, I can tell something is bothering you. Not those trolls, either, though they're enough to trouble anyone."

Silence drifted over the table as I considered. "I met my dad," I answered.

She stared at me. "Your father?" I could tell she was confused by the crinkled brow.

"Yes, my long-lost father. Imagine my surprise that he was my old teacher, Mr. Richards. I found him staying with my mom." I sounded bitter. Coming to terms with everything was a process, and I hadn't left the anger behind.

"What did they tell you?" she asked. Landa had known my mother, and probably my father, longer than I'd been alive. I was betting she wanted to know what she could say.

"Not that much. They were scared. The big bad clan was out to get them, and it was all for me."

"They had reasons, Michelle."

"Oh, I know. They had lots of reasons. They told me a few of them, and at this point it sounds like they're trying to justify actions they think were wrong. They want me to understand, but that takes time."

"Child, from someone who knows more than you, trust them. They did the best they could. Many of their friends were afraid to help them. You can't blame them for being scared when you don't know what they were afraid of." She paused. "And child, it's better if you don't try to find out."

"That's basically what they said." I toyed with a piece of bacon I was eating. "I'm letting Dad into my life. He's helping me teach a class for hedge-practitioners. I'm letting him into my life, trusting him to be there. That's all I can do right now. Everything is going to take time. I need time to understand."

"It's good of you to give your father a chance. Take all the time you need. As much as your parents want to rush things, they know this is difficult."

"Landa, could we just chat? I don't want to think about it right now. I have a slow morning, and I want to enjoy it."

She reached across the table, squeezing my hand. "Darling, we can talk as long as you'd like."

For the next hour we talked, not about anything important, just chatting. The brownies, Nelda and Sandar, enjoyed the last meal of their stay. They were leaving at eleven. Trent and Blenda, the dwarves, took food with them on an all-day sightseeing trip. By the time I returned to my room, I was happier than I'd been in days.

I'd promised Jones more truth charms, so I set out the supplies at the work table. I loved charm work, the slow weave of spells, assembling the charm, and all the little pieces working together. By lunchtime, I had finished twenty of them and would be well stocked even after I sent Jones's order out.

Continuing to indulge myself, I whipped up a sandwich for lunch and ate while reading a mystery novel. My energy level was still low. I needed to give magic a rest.

I cringed when I heard my phone ring. My relaxing day was about to end. "Oaks Consulting."

"Michelle, it's Jones again. I know, you're tired of hearing from me, but we've got a dead body. I think you can help."

"All right. I'll head out. I just finished the charms for you. I'll bring them with me. What's the address?" He read it to me, and I gathered my things. I wasn't in a rush. Dead bodies didn't go anywhere quickly. It would still be there when I arrived.

It was a nice day and pleasant drive to a small house in a residential area. The typical comfort of living in suburbia was offset by the swarm of police personnel outside the house. Pulling up, I called Jones. "Where do you want me?"

"In the garage." We both clicked our phones shut and I hurried over.

"How was the drive?" he asked.

"Nice, but what do you want me to look at?" I didn't drive all this way to make small talk.

"We've got a dead human that looks to have been munched on. Can you do anything to trace the killer? We can't keep panic down if people know trolls are out eating people every few days." Jones had big purple bags under his eyes and a hollow, wan look. I'd never seen him look this ill.

"Frankly, it depends on how far along digestion has gotten." It was gross, but while in chunks I could still connect the pieces to the whole. Once it was mostly digested, it was starting to become something new. "How recently deceased, and how large are the missing pieces?"

"There should be some large pieces, and it's a fairly fresh kill. The neighbors heard something and called it in." He studied my pinched face. "Michelle, trust me on this one. You don't want to see any more of the body than necessary. Can you do the spell without looking at the entire body?" His usually cheerful expression was serious.

"Yes, and I'll gladly skip the eaten-body show." We had a problem, though. "I can do a tracking spell, but I keep doing sophisticated spells, and you can't find anything. The best bet is a simple connection spell, giving you a glowing line from here to the rest of the body parts. If I'm careful, I can even craft it so a human can follow the path of the line."

Jones sighed, shoulders dropping. "Do it. We need the trolls more than we need their keepers."

"I need to touch the victim's hand. It doesn't matter where, but out here in the driveway would be better." It would give them the best line to follow.

"Done. Gather anything you need, they'll roll him out in a few minutes." He walked back in the garage, and I wandered over to the car to get my wand and another rock. They wouldn't want me to tamper with the body, so I'd have to do this from personal power. It was annoying, especially with my power so low, but easier to shape than other forms of conducting magic.

They rolled the body out, and the medical examiner lifted a hand through the zipper so I could work the spell. I rubbed the pebble against the man's skin, transferring cells. Using my wand, I sealed the cells against the rock before etching runes. Because of the cells, the rock thought it was part of the body they came from and wanted to find the missing pieces. The runes formed the magic to make the rock show a connection, a path people could easily travel.

In moments, a strong yellow line flowed out of the body, into the pebble, out of the pebble, and down the street. I stepped back and thanked the medical examiner.

Jones sent off a few cars to investigate the line. After he finished with them, he walked over. Looking a bit uncomfortable he said, "The assistant sheriff wants to talk to you back at the office."

"About what?" I didn't like the sound of this.

"He didn't say. Do you want to follow me over?"

"Sure." Twenty minutes later, I pulled into a parking space. I didn't have a good feeling about this meeting. I hadn't said more than a passing word to Carls since I'd been hired.

"Good afternoon, Miss Oaks."

"Good afternoon, Assistant Sheriff. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Miss Oaks, I have a problem," he started, leaning forward against his desk. "I think you may be a part of that problem. You see, I have these trolls on the loose, and in spite of a hedge-wizard and a witch working to find them, we've only found a dead one. You magic types"—clearly he wasn't fond of witches—"aren't pulling your weight."

"What do you want me to do?" He hadn't done anything but complain.

"I want solutions out of you."

"I can't fix this. I am not an investigator or officer, just an expert."

"If you were worth the money this department is paying you, we'd have the trolls."

"Assistant Sheriff, just so we're clear, your department owes me money. Never mind the fact that I am not part of your department. I am not an investigator and am only allowed in the field in very specific circumstances. Those are not often met."

He frowned. "Those trolls have been loose a week, and you haven't given us anything that actually helps. If we haven't found those things using your spells within a week, you'll no longer be working with this department."

"Why exactly is that? What haven't I done that I should've?" I hadn't thought the conversation would go this poorly.

"You haven't found the trolls."

My eyes widened uncomfortably. "I haven't found the trolls? It isn't my job to find the trolls. I've done my job better than most single witches could, and having ten witches wouldn't have provided you with a spell to instantly locate those trolls."

"My statement stands. I want those trolls, and I want my money's worth from your wand waving."

"Assistant Sheriff, have you used any of the tools I've provided?"

"The department hasn't found them to be useful."

"Why not?"

"The magic you gave us isn't working as we requested."

"You didn't request anything." He hadn't even been in charge when I'd done the last spells.

"It has not performed to my satisfaction. If you will excuse me, I have work to do."

"Do what you have to, but you're more than welcome to get a second opinion. I think you'll find that you don't know how to use the resources you've been given and that they can't do anything more than I did with the materials I have. My job was to make useful spells. I've done that. Your job is to find trolls." He was starting to turn red. I left before he could yell at me or fire me on the spot.

Jones intercepted me in the parking lot. "I take it Carls was angry."

"To say the least. I was informed that if the trolls are not captured in the next week, using the spells I crafted, Forsyth County will no longer need my services. I told him it was my job to make spells, not be a cop. It's his job to find the trolls." I rubbed my temples, attempting to reduce the throbbing.

"I'm not sure he can fire you."

"Do you really think that helps right now? I've done my best for you and have been told that I'm useless. I don't know what more I can do. If you've had any brilliant ideas, I'd love to hear them."

"Sorry, Michelle. That didn't come off right." He sighed. "The spell you gave us today should find something, and that will buy you credibility and time. As for the rest of us, we don't want to work with a firm again. They aren't nice to us. He's trying to save his butt, but we can make sure he's gone if you are."

"I have that many fans?"

"Yes. You don't know what the last few witches we worked with were like. No one wanted to work with them, least of all me. They also charge more than twice what you do. Besides, he's the one who won't let us use the magic properly or investigate it to make it worthwhile. We're not even supposed to be looking at the map anymore via his orders."

"Awesome. I don't know why I put two days of my life into that thing."

Jones patted me on the back. "Go home, get some sleep. It'll work out."

"Thanks… and Jones, don't do anything that could hurt your career for me." He just smiled and waved me off. I wasn't sure that was a good sign.

Sitting in my car, leaning against the steering wheel, I let a few tears escape. I couldn't drive while I was this angry. Slowly, far more slowly than usual, I was able to release the anger and fear. Driving home, I didn't know what to think about. I wanted to be sad and angry, but that wouldn't help.

Most of all, I didn't want to go to dinner with my parents feeling like this. I was already nervous; being sad and angry wouldn't help anything. I wanted to go to dinner feeling happy and excited. I had a great opportunity to finally have the father I'd never had before. The last thing I wanted was for the bleak reality of my fledgling business failing to intrude upon what could be the start of great things.

Sighing, I pulled into a gas station. Ten minutes and a bathroom break later, I was on my way home—well, to my mom's house. As angry as I was over things today and the family history, they were in the past. No amount of crying, moping, or ranting would change them now. It was time to move forward and enjoy the family I had.

*******

Pulling into Mom's driveway, I wished I'd thought to bring a change of clothes since I was wearing a dirty polo and khakis. It would have been nice to look good for the first dinner with my father. With a quick check in the rearview mirror to make sure my hair still looked tidy, I headed to the door. I knocked, trying not to be nervous or scared as I waited for someone to answer.

My father peeked through the glass before pulling open the door. "It's nice to see you, Michelle. Come on in."

I set my purse on the small table next to the door. He closed the door, and something I saw on his face just grabbed my heart and held on. He was as worried about tonight as I was. He wanted to have a real family. As he turned around, I threw my arms around him, hugging him close. "Thanks, Dad. It's been a long day." After a fraction of a second his arms pulled me in, hugging me back.

Stepping back, I didn't know what to do, so I headed into the kitchen. "Mom, do you need any help?"

"No, I'm about to set everything on the table. Why don't you get a drink and sit down? You've been driving all over the place today and must be tired." Mom placed a big salad on the table with some garlic bread and pasta in a red sauce. Dad brought over drinks for us, and we sat down. We asked for blessings over the food and dug in. Conversation was slow to start, but I'd had worse meals, considering the circumstances.

"Why were you needed in Forsyth today?" Mom asked.

I'd told her that I was going out of town because I might be late. "They found a body, which had served as a troll's morning snack. They wanted me to do a tracking spell between the body and the parts that had moved away from the rest of the remains."

My father asked me, "What type of spell did you do?"

"I gave them a visible connection that should only travel paths a person could easily travel. I could have done something more sophisticated, but so far anything advanced has been too progressive for them to use properly."

Mom and Dad exchanged a look before Mom asked, "What happened?"

I'd known this would come up, but I hadn't realized they would function as a unit. They must have been spending a lot of time together since I moved out.

Grumpily, I told them. "The assistant sheriff's angry because they haven't found any trolls using the tracking spells I've done. I told him finding the trolls was his problem—there isn't anything wrong with the spells, just his ability to use them. He said if they haven't found the trolls within a week using my spells, they wouldn't be part of my clientele in the future. I told them to get a second opinion; no other witch could've done any better." I viciously stabbed a cucumber slice.

"What happened to Sheriff Davis?" My newly acquired father was on top of things.

"He was ambushed outside of Walmart and nearly beaten to death. He's in the ICU, leaving Assistant Sheriff Carls in charge."

"Is he going to live?" Dad asked.

"I was told he is going to recover but not quickly. They are also having trouble finding the assailant."

"Sheriff Davis is a good man. I hope he recovers. As for Carls, I don't know much about him."

"Me either. I've never dealt with him before."

Dad shrugged. "He sounds unstable."

"I think he mostly wants to be able to point the finger at someone other than his people. He may be hoping to move up to sheriff from this mess." Carls didn't strike me as a sinister fellow, but self-serving? That I could see. "What I don't understand is why he hasn't had any of the werewolves or other shifters searching for the escapees in their animal form. I understand why they haven't tried dogs. They need a scent article to start with. Shifters don't need that because they can understand exactly what they're looking for and search for a general scent."

"He hasn't done that?" Surprise colored Mom's voice.

"Not that I know of. I don't think Davis had time before he was attacked."

"Very strange. Did he not think of it, or is there another reason?" Dad didn't sound happy with Carls. I didn't say anything. I didn't know enough to venture an opinion on this topic. "You've done everything you could. If the man wants miracles, he needs to be favored with a deity, not a witch."

"I know. I don't think he does, but I do."

Conversation lapsed for a few minutes, during which my Narzel-blessed phone rang again. "Sorry, I need to take this." I flipped open the phone. "Oaks Consulting."

"Good news. We found the troll. It's in custody, and Carls will be eating a few of his words."

"Did he say as much? Wait. Where did you find the troll?"

"No. He didn't want to be disturbed at home, so he won't know we have the troll until tomorrow. We found him hiding under a bridge to avoid the sun. Your spell led us right to him. We think he'd been dumped there by the remaining people who'd been holding him. We may yet find useful fingerprints at the crime scene."

It was a score for me, but I wasn't in the clear. There were still six more trolls on the loose.

"I'm not gonna hold my breath for an apology. I've got to go. I'm having dinner with family. Thanks for letting me know."

"Have a good dinner."

We hung up, and I turned my attention back to food and family. Looking at the expectant faces, I had to explain.

"They found the troll, using the tracking rock."

They both made happy noises, but Dad was the one to sum up my feelings. "He can't fire you if your spells work."

I grinned. "I'm thinking he'll have a hard time explaining that one."

Conversation lapsed as we focused more on eating and less on talking. The salad was great, but Mom's homemade sauce and pasta were the real stars.

"Michelle, has anyone signed up for the class?"

"Not yet, Mom, but the information only started going out yesterday. I've got a few weeks before the first class."

"It would be nice if the class does well."

"Yes, it would. I'd love to have another profitable aspect to the business, one that requires less traveling." I couldn't believe the miles I'd put on my car since the trolls entered my life. "How's work been going, Mom?"

"Work's been good. We haven't had anything too crazy come in. Mostly things that should be handled by witches, not doctors and modern medicine." Her brow furrowed. "We have had several suicides and attempted suicides. The police are investigating, but it worries me."

"Why?" Dad wasn't saying anything. I was betting that she'd told him about these feelings a while ago.

"Unless there's a cult, you don't see a lot of suicides at the same time. These don't look like a cult because they didn't do it the same way or at exactly the same time. It's very strange."

I patted her hand. "Don't worry, Mom. If it was magical, they would've called me. I'm sure it was just a group of friends that had a pact or something." She didn't look convinced, but she let it go.

A few minutes later, I thought of something else to ask. "So, Dad, where do you work?" We'd talked about several things, but so far that hadn't been on the list. I was curious but doubtful that I'd get an answer.

"Well, I manage several business interests and a few other things. I would tell you more, but it would violate all the reasons we didn't tell you about me." He blushed.

"I get it. I don't like it, but I understand." Conversation lagged as we all tried to think of something to say, a reoccurring theme this evening.

"Dad, do you work with the local shifters or werewolves?"

"Some. Why?"

"I've heard rumors that there's a bit of discord in the werewolf community." I was fishing, and from the look on his face, he knew.

"You must be referring to Simon's son, Adder. He's dangerous." A strong warning since he was a werewolf. "I don't know what's going on, but he's plotting something, and I doubt it will benefit his father. I've heard people may try to leave the pack if he becomes the alpha."

"We've treated a few wolves that have found themselves on his bad side. I wouldn't tangle with that one. He only leaves them alive because the law demands it." Mom brought dessert over. "Have you been on any dates recently?"

"No, I've been too busy to date. It's hard to bond over murder victims." I hated it when Mom started asking about my love life.

"I would've thought you'd meet someone in all the traveling you've been doing."

"You thought wrong. I deal with the same people at work. If any of them were interested, they would have made their move a while ago. Besides, most of the men I work with are twice my age or married."

"I think I know some nice warlocks that would like to meet you. No dates, just a small dinner party over here."

"No, Mom. I don't want to sit in the living room with four or five guys as their only source of entertainment. It's silly. I'll find a guy, just not yet." This was the first time she'd offered to set me up like this, but I didn't want to encourage this trend. I was not in favor of it.

"Perhaps you'd like a few more girlfriends that are witches? The boys could escort a female relative. Everyone would win that way."

"I don't think it's a good idea. The way my luck goes, I'd get a call from the police after they arrived." This was not something I wanted to be involved in.

"Perhaps she's right, Nancy. Give it some time. She's young yet." I shot him a grateful look, receiving a wink back.

Chapter 13: Michelle

"Michelle, you're about to run into the table."

I stopped dead. I knew that voice. I just hadn't expected to hear it again. My eyes flew open. "Elron?" He smiled. "What are you doing here? I thought you went home."

"I did, but I came back. I'm going to stay a while." His smile was perfectly polite, but somehow I was sure he was smirking at me.

"Oh, well, I hope you get used to smaller trees."

"I'm sure I will. Go on, get some food. We can catch up over dinner." He patted the empty seat next to him.

I nearly bit through my lip to keep from sneering. I was too busy looking at the table to see what I piled on my plate. Elron had clearly saved a seat next to him. Landa and Mander were sitting across from him, with a male selkie and a nixe couple on the other side. Selkies were a type of shape-shifter, changing from a human to a seal with the help of a seal skin. Most selkies lived in the sea as a seal with their pod. This particular selkie was wearing his seal skin as a cape.

Nixe were strange. They could morph into a variety of creatures if they were in or near a large body of water, but the bottom hem of their clothing was always wet. Before they had joined the civilized races, they had lured people to their deaths in water. Once they joined the civilized races, their elders hunted down any who didn't obey the new laws. Nixe were very well behaved these days.

Not seeing much of a choice, I sat down next to Elron. Sitting somewhere else when he'd essentially announced that the chair next to him was for me would draw unwanted attention.

"Hi, I'm Michelle." I would do a lot to avoid talking to Elron without seeming rude.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, lady. I am Carr." The selkie was very polite. He was elegantly dressed, with silver hair and a handsome physique. His good looks weren't surprising; the race had a reputation for being easy on the eyes.

"Nice you meet you."

"We are Nell and Neil," the nixe couple said. They were eye-catching, making it difficult to look away. It was more hypnosis than beauty. Their skin had a slight blue tint, and they had big, almond-shaped eyes.

I started eating as everyone else fell into conversation. Elron let this go for a few minutes before he asked, "What have you been up to while I've been away?"

I couldn't dodge this. "I've been working on a few cases with the police. Mostly, I've been trying to track the escaped trolls."

His elegantly arched brows shot up. "Trolls escaped?"

"Yes. There's a preserve in Forsyth County. Someone blew a big hole in the fence and eight trolls escaped. I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."

"I've been busy and away from modern sources of information. What have you done to help track the escapees?" He looked genuinely interested.

"I devised a spell to find creatures that matched a sample I was provided, and then I told it to eliminate things that were more like humans than trolls. The results from the spell look promising, but when the police searched an area there should have been something in, they only found signs of a troll." I could feel frustration creeping into my voice.

"Why were physical means of tracking not used? I would have tried that before I tried magical means. Not that magic isn't effective, but without a direct link to each individual you are trying to track, it sounds more difficult than is practical."

"The police didn't find any physical traces, and we don't know exactly which individuals from the population escaped or which ones are now dead. If I can get that information and something of theirs, I can cast a better spell." I did see his point. A trained dog or a shifter could just follow the person until they found them. What I'd done wasn't nearly as straightforward and still required more work by the police.

He hummed as he munched on his food. "I'll think on that matter. What's your mother's name?"

"What business of yours is it?"

"I find I am curious about your origins."

"What does that even mean?" I could feel myself blush. I drank a bit of tea and started eating with more enthusiasm. If my mouth was full I couldn't answer.

"I want to know who you are and who you come from. I want to know more about you. Isn't that what friends do, ask questions to learn about each other?" His carefully arched silver brow was almost funny.

"But we aren't friends." I was starting to think he forgot all the rules of logic and debate he must have learned as a youngster when he was around me.

"We could be."

"I'd have to agree, and I won't."

"I could grow on you. You never know."

"It would be nasty if you grew on me. That's something fungus does. I wouldn't want fungus as a friend." I was starting to have a bit of fun.

"You could think of me as more of a pet, like a dog."

"Dogs need a lot of attention. I don't have very regular hours. I wouldn't make a good dog owner."

"Cat then. Most witches like cats. They're independent, the black ones scare people, and they make a good familiar."

I glared at him. "I don't have a familiar. Few good witches do. It's far too easy to abuse that power."

"You're not the first witch I've known. I could help you." His face was guarded, something that seemed to be rare for him.

"How could you help me? You're not a witch, and witches rarely reveal their spells to outsiders." Witches tended to be selfish and greedy with power or knowledge of how to use power. It was one of the reasons clans were so important. Most witches wouldn't teach spells to an outsider, but they would teach one of their own.

"Would you be willing to trust me?"

"I doubt it. It's easy for bad things to happen when trying a spell someone else wrote." Seriously, if he knew other witches, he had to know witches often left out steps when sharing spells. Most spells went wrong if something was skipped, and wrong usually included a nasty side effect for the witch. Did he think I was crazy?

"I don't suppose there's a way I could prove myself?" He huffed out a breath.

"If there is, this isn't it."

"All right, then I'll change the subject. What can you tell me about your clan?"

I spit my words through clenched teeth. "We've been over this. I don't have a clan. I don't know anything about my mother's clan. No clan has ever claimed me, nor have I ever claimed a clan. What more could there be?"

"What about your tattoo?" He looked a bit too smug for my taste, but he had a valid point. Witches didn't have many things that visibly distinguished them from humans or shifters. What they did have was a birthmark, more like a tattoo, really, that was magically embedded in their skin before birth. No witch or wizard actively performed the spell, but the tattoo was in the child's skin when they were born. I had a set of symbols on my right shoulder blade. This tattoo was often called a clan scar, as the symbol was unique to the birth clan of a witch. If a witch later joined a different clan and participated in a joining ceremony, the clan scar would change.

"I don't know what it says." I couldn't deny having one; every naturally born witch had one, and I wasn't a sorceress.

"Why not?" He was prying now.

"None of your business." I turned back to my food.

"I can read it."

"I don't believe you. Leave me alone; I want to talk to other people."

"I'm telling the truth." He looked earnest.

"I wouldn't know if you lied to me about my tattoo, so it doesn't matter if you're telling the truth. I'm not going to show my tattoo."

"Why don't you know what it says?"

"Because clan symbols are guarded secrets. If my mother knew them, she knew enough not to teach me." This was annoying. My clan was his favorite topic of conversation.

"Some of the clans can be a bit harsh." He chewed some salad, clearly thinking. "Have you spent time with many elves?"

"I know a few elves." Gosh he was annoying, wanting to know everything about me.

"Do you know what settlements they were from?"

"Some, but not all. Why?"

"I was curious."

"I think curiosity might kill elves."

He chuckled. "You could be right, but I have nine lives. Will you indulge me?"

"I don't remember all of them." I finished my food before answering. "My mother lives in this area, and I know the elves were mostly from Georgia, Tennessee, and the Carolinas. I'm not sure how many settlements are within a few hours' drive of Mom's house, but for a while we had elves at the house more days than not."

He looked thoughtful. "Thank you."

Chapter 14: Michelle

Yesterday had been a lovely day off until Elron appeared at dinner. I was determined today would be better. It had to be better. I was going to the aquarium with Clark to take the mermaid's statement. They needed the statement on tape because it would be difficult to put her in a court room, but he couldn't do a speech spell that would work for multiple people, or allow her to reach through the tank and sign. Clark was picking me up in town and driving us to the aquarium.

Pulling into the police station, I started munching down my bagel. I hadn't wanted to see the elf, so I'd picked up breakfast at a coffee shop on my way over. By the time I finished the egg and cheese bagel, I was full, happy, and had spotted Clark's car pulling into the parking lot. I grabbed my purse and work duffel, locked the car, and scampered over.

Clark pushed the passenger door open for me. "Am I late? I thought we'd agreed on nine thirty."

"Nope, I'm early." I pulled the door shut behind me, settling my equipment between my feet. As he pulled out of the parking lot, I asked, "How's the mermaid been doing? What's her name, anyway?"

"Liso, and she's fully recovered. We've located her tribe, and she's scheduled for transport back to them tomorrow."

"I thought it would take longer." Most mermaids roam a large area.

"Nope. It was easy to match her missing-person report. She's from the Georgia coast. Poor thing was scooped up by a couple of hicks dragging a net behind their boat. We have some good leads on the fishermen, but we've turned that evidence over to the state and Glynn County. Anyway, Glynn County sent a cop to the beach to send out the word. As it turns out, her tribe has been searching for her and was just offshore."

"Wow. I'm surprised the feds haven't taken over." Human trafficking often crossed state lines.

"Me too, but it looks like these guys were just getting set up and hadn't moved anyone out of state yet. We found several people in the house, but evidence that one or two had been sold."

"Seriously?"

"Yup. They figured the best way to start was to get a bunch of merchandise, then sell it off and slowly replenish. They didn't realize that going on an abduction spree, almost in a straight line from one part of the state to another, was the fastest way to get the police's attention. The guys we grabbed were in the holding business. The kidnappers haven't found their way into custody yet, but I don't think they'll be hard to find."

"Did they do anything right?" I couldn't believe a group of criminals could be this dumb. I felt like they'd all but put up a sign in their front yard proclaiming what they were doing.

"Not really."

We fell into a comfortable silence as he started to drive through heavier traffic. It was nice for someone else to be doing the driving, but I wasn't sure why I was here. This mermaid was really close to the Georgia Bureau of Investigation headquarters. They had witches on staff. Why did they need me?

"Clark, why do you need me for this? Doesn't GBI have witches on staff?"

"Not exactly. They have a contract with a firm, but that wouldn't include our interview. Also, we need slightly different information than they did, and I knew you'd want to see her healthy and feeling better." He glanced at me. "You're also cheaper and more fun to work with."

Clark used the back entrance to the aquarium since we weren't sightseeing. We walked through the employee entrance to a desk with a guard behind it.

"You must be here to interview the mermaid." He was a typical chubby, middle-aged security guard.

"Yup," Clark said.

"I'll need to see some identification before I give you passes." While we pulled the requested information, he called our escort. He barely looked at the cards before handing us badges.

An elf with long blond hair and pointy ears walked over. "Welcome. I am Alara. If you will follow me, I'll guide you to Liso."

"Greetings, Alara. We would be honored to accept your help. I am Michelle, and this is Officer Clark."

"It is a pleasure to meet you. This way."

Elves liked to be greeted properly. I maintained most of the reason Elron and I hadn't gotten along was a lack of proper introduction. It was considered an insult in elven society to skip introductions. Years ago it had been considered grounds for a feud or duel. Today elves didn't hold with that, mostly because they'd realized every race couldn't know the correct cultural responses for every other race. There were too many races for all greetings to be ritualized.

Alara led us down several hallways before guiding us into a large room that had a small crane and access to several tanks. Along one wall was a small upright tank that attached to a larger tank. The gate between the two sections was currently closed to prevent other fish from intruding upon Liso while we talked. Liso was seated on a small bench in the tank, facing the table outside the glass.

She looked much better than she had previously. Liso had regained the natural brown color of her people, but more importantly, she was clothed in a sharkskin vest. Liso waved as we approached, clearly greeting us as best she could through the glass.

"I will be on this floor if you need me." Alara didn't wait for a thank-you but quickly walked across most of the room to work at a small tank near several computers.

Clark set up the camera while I cast the spell. It was a complex spell, making her speech sound like ours rather than us hearing her and understanding. The spell for hearing was much simpler than the one for altering speech but wouldn't translate to the recording. Using a language charm as a base, I wove new runes and more power into the fabric of the spell. This spell would enable the camera to record her as if she were speaking English outside the tank, preserving her statement.

Clark pulled out several sheets of paper and writing implements. With his instruction, I set the spell that would allow her to reach through the glass with a dry hand and sign the papers.

"I'm Officer Matthew Clark. I will be assisting you with your statement today. I would like it if everyone could state their name for the official record."

Since he'd stated his name it was my turn, "I'm Michelle Oaks, witch and consultant, assisting with spells today."

Liso spoke. "I am Liso of the Deep Water tribe. I am the daughter of Tearon and Also."

"Liso, if you sign this paper, you are agreeing to only speak the truth and tell events as you remember them." Liso signed the first paper. The spells were working beautifully. "Liso, if you sign this paper you are agreeing that what you say in this interview can be used in court to prosecute the people involved with your abduction, transportation, and captivity." Liso signed again.

"Liso, when you're ready, please tell me what happened, starting with your abduction. Michelle, could you please sign as the witness?" I signed below his signature.

Several moments passed before she started to speak. Her first words were slow, hesitant. "Some time ago, I believe two weeks, I was swimming about half a mile off the coast of the Georgia mainland. I knew I was swimming near a boat, but I had started to go deeper. I didn't want trouble. Before I could go anywhere, a net wrapped around me. I was pulled onto the boat by three men. There was one man driving the boat. I was stuffed into a very large saltwater cooler."

Clark asked several questions, helping her remember details about the men and the exact events before she continued. "Some time later they moved the cooler into a vehicle. They drove, and I was nearly out of oxygen when they hauled me into the basement before sticking me in that very small tank. The men who put me in the tank were the ones who stayed at the house. They had to place several tank cleaners and oxygenators in the water to keep me alive. The tank was too small for me to do anything, so I just floated there. I think about once a day they would drop some food in the tank."

"Did any other men ever see you?"

"Yes. Twice other men came to look at me." She gave a timeline and general descriptions.

"Did they ever take pictures of you?"

"Once, right after they put me in the tank."

"Did anyone leave after you arrived?"

"No. Everyone who was there when I arrived was there when you raided the house."

"What was a typical day?" She went on to describe what the men did, bathroom rotations, food rotations, and several acts I'd rather I hadn't known about.

Finally, the interview was over. Clark put away the camera and thanked Liso. I removed the spell that allowed her to pass through glass.

"Wait, don't undo the speech spell yet."

I looked up, unsure of what to do. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" She tilted her head. "Nothing is wrong. I wanted to thank you. I might have died if you hadn't come. If you are ever near the ocean and in need, my people and I will come to you. Speak my name and let a drop of blood join the water."

"Thank you. That is a very kind offer. I wish you a long, safe life."

"No fear, lady. I shall stay with our warriors in the future. I have not enjoyed my time on land."

"That's understandable. I wish you safe travels." She bowed her head, and I finished dismantling the spells. The merfolk rarely made such offers to those of us who lived on land. She must have been very grateful, and well connected in the tribe, to be sure her promise would be honored.

I looked at her one last time before Alara guided us out. Liso was beautiful, with her bronze skin, white hair, and slender body. Her eyes were nearly luminous, green, and studying us. Her green scales started at her hips, covering her entire lower body all the way down to the large fin at the end of her tail. I would remember her this way, ready to swim to the rest of a tank full of sharks and sea creatures, not only unafraid, but excited.

"She is captivating." Alara summed up my feelings well, having read them off my face.

"Yes, but she belongs with her people, not here for people to look at. If you want to see her in her full beauty, you have to go swim where they swim and for a few hours see the world as they see it." Realizing I'd spoken aloud, I blushed.

"Young witch, you see more than I would expect from someone of your years. Your words demonstrate the truth of who you are." The small smile felt like a great compliment.

"I would say the same of you. Elves are known for their unsurpassed sight." I bowed my head.

A seductive laugh filled the room. "I eagerly await word of your deeds, young one." She turned and left, having delivered us to the guard who gave me a strange look as we turned in our badges and walked out.

Clark waited until the door shut before asking, "What was that about?"

"I'm not sure."

"Uh huh."

"I'm really not, but we can talk about it over lunch." I was hungry.

"Where do you want to go?" Clark loved to eat, but you'd never know it by his incredibly thin frame.

"I don't know. What about Atlanta Subs?" I wanted a sandwich.

"Sure. I think we passed one on the way over."

Twenty minutes later, I was biting into a turkey sub.

"You owe me an answer." Clark was like a dog with an extra-meaty bone; he just wouldn't let go.

"No, I don't. I said we could talk about it here. I don't have anything to say. Elves look at the world a bit differently. She liked what she saw; there isn't much else I can tell you."

"Why did she say she'd look forward to your achievements?"

I wished he would just chew on his chicken sub. "I don't know, Clark. If I knew, I would tell you."

"All right. I didn't mean to pry."

"Yes, you did."

His smile broke though. "Yes, I did."

I paused before starting on my chips. "I hate this case." I don't know why I told him. He already knew.

"We all do. Oh, I don't know if you heard, but they found the dragon's parents."

"Athe? They found his parents?" I wanted him to be reunited with his family.

"Yes. He's home now. The fairy light was moved to a sanctuary. It should be safe there."

Athe deserved a happy ending. He had been very brave and polite, but he hadn't been the one who needed the most help. "Any news on the dwarf, unicorn, gryphon, or phoenix?"

"The unicorn has returned to its herd. Uh, the gryphon is with child services. They haven't been able to identify her or her family. She is making progress, but it's slow. The dwarf is still in the hospital. He'll be released to his family soon. The phoenix isn't doing well. They are trying to get it to flame and be reborn, but so far it hasn't gone well."

The unicorn would feel better with her own kind. I hadn't expected the dwarf to make a speedy recovery, but I'd hoped the gryphon and phoenix would fare better. "Thank you. Did they deal with the house?"

"Oh, yes. It was a huge fire. It's cooling and under guard, but they have a firm contracted to look things over once it cools."

"Good. It needed to be done." And I was exceptionally grateful I wasn't the one dealing with that mess. The power in that house wanted to corrupt me.

He chewed on his sandwich. "Have you done anything fun lately?"

"I had a family dinner that was nice and a weekly dinner with some girlfriends. Why?"

"Eh, this kind of thing can really eat at you. I think everyone who works with it needs to get out, have some fun, see friends, and forget about work."

"I'm starting to see that. I didn't, not at first. But the longer I've worked with the police, the more I value the rest of life."

He studied me, thinking about something, though I wasn't sure what. "Keep this separate from the rest of your life. Go on a few dates. It doesn't matter if they're serious, just enjoyable. Have some fun. It'll make this job easier."

"I'll keep that in mind, Clark."

Driving back, my thoughts kept returning to our previous conversation. Clark was right. I needed to spend more time away from work. I needed to spend more time with people who were special to me. I really wanted to spend time with a guy, one that might mean something and be somebody I could spend part of my life with.

I didn't think Clark was that person, and I was hoping his comments weren't a buildup to asking me on a date. I didn't want to hurt our work relationship. I liked working with the guy, and he was a good guy, but not for me.

Clark was human, which wasn't his fault or a flaw, but I didn't want to date and fall in love with a human. I didn't want to marry someone who would live less than a third of the time I would. I couldn't do that over and over. It wasn't fair, and I'd date a human for fun, but never seriously. Hopefully, he was just being helpful. With a mental sigh, I turned my mind to other matters.

Alara had been something else. I'd seen elves act like that before, but never to me. I wasn't sure why she thought I'd do something interesting. It was strange knowing someone would be listening for news of my actions, watching me.

"We're here."

My eyes flew open, focusing on the parking lot where my car was parked. "Thanks, Clark."

"No problem. Be safe driving home."

"I will." I pulled my bags off the floorboard and closed the door.

Chapter 15: Elron

I'd never realized how frustrating it was for the elves on the outside to keep in touch with their more traditional friends. The community I'd lived in for many years didn't have phones, computers, or Internet. They received mail, but in this world there was little reason to write a letter when a casual conversation over the phone was so much more efficient.

I felt like I'd heard about Michelle years ago and should know about her past. The memory lingered just out of reach. There was a feeling deep inside, telling me so much of her life had been the product of misunderstandings. I knew her mom hadn't been much of a witch, and I wondered how Michelle had learned so much. Usually, the entire clan helped educate the new generations, but she hadn't had their help. Her family's mistakes had deprived her of a valuable part of her culture.

On the other hand, I'd never seen a witch that young who was so sure of her limits and willing to face the world alone. There were drawbacks to clans. They didn't promote individuality, self-sufficiency, or entrepreneurial spirits. The clan wanted its members working for the good of the clan. With the oldest members in charge, they were traditional, not taken with modern innovation, and slow to change. The old codgers liked to dictate how people lived. More than anything, the clan wanted a bigger, stronger clan with the most magic possible.

Most of my questions could be answered today. Smiling, I took a trip.

Chapter 16: Michelle

"Oaks Consulting." I'd just sat down in my living room, and didn't want to rush off for a police emergency.

"Hi, is this Michelle?"

"Yes. May I ask who's calling?" This was strange. Usually people announced who they were, and I'd never gotten a call from a hospital number before.

"I'm Andrew Wright. We haven't been formally introduced, but we met at a crime scene in Fannin County. I was healing the mermaid." He sounded hesitant.

"Yes. What can I do for you?" He must have been calling from work.

"I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee sometime." Andrew sounded nervous.

"I wouldn't mind exchanging work stories and getting out of the house." Clark's words were ringing in my ears, and I didn't want to spend another evening sitting in my room. "We could get coffee at this little place in Ellijay."

"Coffee Times?"

"That's the place."

"Sure, when?"

"Are you free tonight, say seven?"

"I am. I'll see you there at seven."

"See you then. Bye."

"Bye." His phone clicked off.

I gently ended the call, excited about going out on something resembling a date for the first time in months. Before I could enjoy the feeling, my phone rang again.

"Oaks Consulting."

"It's Jones."

"What can I do for you?"

"Have you had any other thoughts on how to find the trolls?"

"Let me guess. Carls is angry that no additional trolls have been discovered."

"Yup."

"I have a few ideas, but unless you have bodies, I'm not canceling the first date-like event I've had in months." Seriously, why now? If he'd called yesterday, I wouldn't have cared.

"I need something else to try. Carls isn't happy, and we still have six trolls out there."

"Have you found any of the people who organized the blast?"

"Several officers are investigating potential leads. Michelle, we're only barely holding jurisdiction on this one. We need something."

"What am I, a Magic 8 Ball? I did what I could. I've read books, asked people for advice, and nothing I've found would be helpful."

"Nothing? You just said you had a few ideas."

"I don't think you can do any of the spells I've considered. I'll call you back tomorrow and with something resembling a plan."

"Fine. Enjoy your date, but I expect something brilliant."

I just hung up. A good day spoiled by work that wasn't even my job. I set an alarm on my phone to remind me about the date and moved into the workroom. I had to find a way to fix their problem.

How the police hadn't tracked down the rest of this ring, or who made the explosives, was beyond me. Then there were the trolls, the trolls that shouldn't have been this hard to find. They weren't known for being smart. Generally they were considered to be rather stupid, but somehow these stupid creatures hadn't been found wandering around the county. No, they'd stayed hidden and had been fed for a week without any sign of them.

Not only were people hiding them, but they were feeding them too. That was something the police could look for. The troll who'd killed his handler had been in town. With the fiasco at the chicken farm, I would have moved the trolls to contained, controlled environments. The police could look for areas where the trolls could be safely contained and avoid detection.

I couldn't figure out why they hadn't used the werewolves or other shifters to track the trolls, but even if they couldn't pick up the scent near where the map displayed trolls, I could probably make a spell to help them out. It was worth a shot. Not only that, but you'd think something supernatural would have noticed something. It might be worth canvassing the areas the map highlighted.

My alarm rang, reminding me to eat dinner before I headed to Ellijay for coffee.

*******

I braced myself before going into the dining room, but Elron wasn't there. Giddy with hope that he'd been passing through, I settled into a chair with a plate of lasagna.

"I am Tinver. Who are you, lass?" The dwarf asked from across the table.

"I'm Michelle, the resident witch. Are you staying for a few nights or moving in?" He was a nice-looking dwarf, with thick red hair, no beard, and well-kept clothes. Tinver could have been forty or four hundred.

"I'm staying for a few days. I'm on vacation."

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Montana. I wanted to vacation somewhere warm for a change. I'll be spending a week down here before I return home."

"Mining?"

"Yes. It's a good honest trade for a dwarf and in our blood. What do you do, lass?"

"I help the police with problems that require magic to solve."

"That's a fine thing to do. Not traditional, but a fine job."

"Thank you."

We lapsed into silence, listening to the quiet conversation of Trent and Blenda. Tironious, the satyr, was still here and flirting with Priscele as his voice rose.

"I can do things you've never imagined," Tironious said.

"Like what?"

"That would be telling, but I could come back to your room and show you. A nymph such as yourself deserves a complete answer."

"Really?" Priscele leaned against him.

Tironious brushed a hand down her arm. "Women are special. Women like you are rare and need special treatment."

"You make me feel special."

After several minutes of ridiculous flirtation, Priscele whispered something in his ear before leaving the dining room. The brownies quietly finished their meal and followed her out.

I'd never figured out if these flirtations went past the dining room, but Priscele was never happier than when she was flirting. I returned my attention to my food, trying not to think about how the satyr would look unclothed. It wasn't a pretty picture.

"Girl… um, Michelle. Why don't you slide down here?"

I blinked at Tironious. I hadn't paid much attention when he called girl, but hearing my name was different. "No." I returned to my food.

"I've got something I want to tell a pretty girl like you." He leaned closer.

"Not interested." I messed with the food on my plate, but I didn't think this was over.

I heard his chair scrape as he pushed away from the table, and the quiet clomp of his hooves as he walked. He stopped, leaning over me. "Why won't a pretty girl like you talk to me?"

"I just want to eat… alone."

"I'll be glad to help you eat." He reached for my fork.

"No." I knocked his hand back. "I'm fine, leave me alone."

"I just want to help." He smiled a creepy, strange smile.

"If I wanted help, I'd ask for it. Now leave before you spend the rest of your days as a newt."

He stepped back. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just wanted to help a pretty lady."

"Then help me by leaving… or risk being something small and slimy for a very long time." I bared my teeth at him.

"All right. No need to be mean. I'll leave." He backed up, giving my chair a wide berth as he left.

"Lass." Tinver caught my attention. "I'd be careful of that one. He really likes women."

"I will. I haven't seen him like this before. I ate with him several days ago, right after he arrived, but I'm surprised he's still here. I was under the impression that he was leaving after only a day or two."

"That one likes to stay where women are available. He'll stay longer just to see you and that nymph."

"Landa takes care of her own."

"Aye, lass, she does, but I'll keep an eye on him anyway."

Dwarves weren't known for lending a helping hand. I accepted his generous offer, and the implied compliment. I said, "Thank you, Tinver. That's very generous and appreciated."

As grateful as I was for the warning, I doubted anyone would risk Landa's wrath, or banishment from this place, just to have sex. Then again, I wasn't a satyr, who'd been designed as a lusty party boy.

A vibration in my pocket reminded me that I had other plans for the rest of the evening. After thanking Tinver again, I excused myself from the table, heading to something closely resembling a date. It wasn't until I was in my car that I realized how reckless all this was. When I'd answered the phone with Clark's advice still in my ears, I'd hardly thought twice. Meeting in a public place with several people around wasn't the craziest thing I'd done, but there were as many bad spells as there were good ones.

I reassured myself, knowing I'd left early enough to arrive before him, even if he wanted to be there early as well. If I had my snack and coffee before he arrived, it would be difficult for him to spell them, or me. I might not see a spell that was cast before I arrived, but I should be able to detect him casting a small spell in front of me.

Snickering, I realized how I sounded. I wasn't going to war or on some undercover job; I was going on a date with a guy who'd seen me perform several impressive spells. This was going to be fun and relaxing. If I was lucky we might even set up a second date.

Coffee Times was a cozy shop in the town square. It featured whimsical lighting and a mural of fairies resting in trees. It was known for organic teas and coffees as well as the fresh pastries. The place was a favorite of mine because of the white chocolate and mint Frappuccino.

"Hi, what can I get you?" The waitress was a cheerful teen girl with a ponytail.

"I'd like a large Shamrock Frappuccino and a slice of gingerbread cake." I paid her and waited for my food. Looking around, I didn't see Andrew. However, a table for two with really comfortable chairs was open.

"Here you go." She handed me my order.

"Thank you." I set my food and purse down at the table before heading back to pick up a straw, fork, and napkin.

I was stuffing the straw in my drink when the bell chimed as the door opened. The wizard sauntered in, as handsome as before, but he was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved sweater rather than a uniform. He paused, looking around before spotting me. A slow smile spread across his lips. He stopped in front of me and held out a hand, clearly offering a traditional greeting. Once I was on my feet, I set my hand in his, letting him raise my hand just enough for him to lean over and plant a soft kiss. I watched him, just as he watched me, even after releasing my hand.

"I'm Andrew Wright. I know we haven't been introduced. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"As you know, I'm Michelle Oaks. If witches never greeted another without introduction, it would be nearly impossible to meet people. Please, get some food and sit. I don't hold with much formality."

His smile returned. "I'll be right back."

It had been a long time since I'd been formerly greeted by another witch. It wasn't common outside courting and formal events. In this case, it was a sign of respect; odd though, no one worried about formal introductions and greeting these days.

"What did you get?" I wanted this to be casual.

"A cranberry muffin and pumpkin tea." He slid into the chair.

"That's the biggest muffin I've ever seen." The thing was huge, softball-sized.

"I know." He winked. "They're really tasty."

"How's the tea? I've never had pumpkin tea before."

"I don't know. I just thought it sounded good." He took a sip. "Hot, good, but it'll be better when I can drink it without burning myself. What did you get?"

"The Shamrock Frappuccino and gingerbread cake."

"What's the shamrock thing?"

"Oh, it's this amazing blend of white chocolate and mint in soy milk. It's my favorite drink."

"Sounds great. I'll trade you a sip of tea for Frappuccino." He picked a cranberry off his muffin, popping it into his mouth.

"No thanks. I'll get it next time I'm here." I didn't think he'd done anything to the food, but I wasn't willing to risk it.

"What clan are you from?" He sounded curious, but the question always worried me.

"I don't associate with any clans. Why?" He looked surprised but not upset or whatever else I was looking for, not that I was sure what I was looking for.

"Just curious. If you care, I'm part of the Galinns." He watched to see my reaction.

"I don't know very much about the clans. You could be from the clan of the talking snail, and I wouldn't care." I'd been more honest than I should have and more blunt. If I was lucky, I'd still have a date after this.

He chuckled. "I've never heard of a talking-snail clan. My clan isn't very traditional." The small smile he was wearing relieved me.

"Odd, since you gave me a traditional greeting." I had expected a bigger reaction to my clanless state. I'd tried very hard to avoid the topic in school, but it had caused problems. His lack of reaction was something I'd only seen a handful of times from the few witches I now counted as friends.

"I was taught to make a good first impression."

"Is that all?"

"No." He leaned forward. "I didn't want to chance offending you, and it cost me nothing to give a witch her due."

"Thank you." I ate a bit of gingerbread while deciding how to phrase my next question. "I wasn't expecting your call, and I find myself curious as to why you called a witch you'd hardly met."

"If you don't take a chance on people, risk hearing no, you can't gain anything. What you did to help that mermaid was impressive."

I didn't want compliments. "I can barely heal. I could never have kept her alive."

His brow furrowed. "So?"

"Magical walls, shielding, and levitation are nothing. I can make healing charms and do a healing spell or two, but I could never have kept her water and salt levels balanced for an hour." I hated being praised for things that weren't that difficult or impressive. I could never have healed Liso enough to keep her alive, and nothing else would have saved her when her tank exploded.

"Why does that matter? I couldn't have done the wall spell without hours of prep work. You can't heal, but I've never shielded for more than a minute." His intense stare was intimidating, and I couldn't look away.

"What could be better than saving a life?"

"Kesha and I could have drained ourselves down to the dregs and not kept her alive until that truck came. I wasn't far from being drained when you arrived, and Kesha was nearly tapped out."

"Everyone has limits. I couldn't have saved her life."

"If you hadn't come, we couldn't have saved her either." He shrugged. "This is far too serious for the first time we're meeting. I think what you did was impressive, and I know witches twice your age that couldn't have done that. Anyway, I know you work with the Fannin police, but what exactly do you do?"

"I work with several police departments, helping them when they need a bit more magic than their on-staff hedge-practitioners can muster. I do a little bit of everything. I saw Liso today."

"How's she doing?"

"Good. She's at the aquarium. They're moving her back to the ocean tomorrow. They found her tribe, and several of them will be waiting for her."

"Good. I'm glad she'll have a happy ending."

"Me too. How long have you been working for emergency services?" What I really wanted to ask was how old he was, but that was a rude question.

"I don't actually work for emergency services. Kesha called me out of the hospital when she realized the problem. I've worked with the hospital for five years. How long have you been working with the police?"

"Not long, less than two years. I worked a few different jobs after graduating, but they didn't fit."

"I had a similar problem. It took time for my clan to agree to my chosen profession."

"Huh?" His words registered. "Oh, I've heard that can be rough."

"It was worth it. I like helping people." Most of his muffin was gone, and he was finally drinking his tea without wincing. "What's your favorite spell?"

I blushed. "It's a little bit embarrassing. When I'm in the shower I do a spell to project a field, surrounded by mountains, with a rainbow over it. The ends of the rainbow sit in pots of gold. I change the light when it hits the water so I shower in a rainbow of different colors." I slurped up every remaining bit of my drink.

"I've never done those spells. I would love to see them. It sounds breathtaking." His eyes were sparkling, and he sounded cheerfully serious. He wanted to see the show, not just me.

"You have to tell me your favorite spell." I was still blushing.

"Could I show you? I need your hand." I slid my hand across the table, watching him closely. "This is my favorite." His fingers brushed my palm as my hand warmed and tingled, sending a warm tingle rippling through me.

I peeled my eyes open. "That's your favorite?"

He gazed at his tea. "Yes, but I think I should have lied and said something else, like hurling illusions of baseballs at my younger bother to watch him duck. Granted, I had to throw an energy ball once in a while or he'd stop ducking."

"No," I said while cradling my right hand to keep the last of the warmth from drifting away. "That was cool, even if it startled me. Did you really torment your little brother with fake baseballs?"

"Yes, but he was annoying and earned it."

Conversation felt easier, less strained, like we'd broken some invisible barrier keeping us on edge. Sometime later, his watch beeped, drawing his gaze.

"I'm sorry; I didn't realize it was so late. I need to get going or I won't be able to get up for work."

Peeking at my watch, I noticed it was nine and we'd spent two hours chatting. "You're right. I need to head out too."

Just outside the door, he scooped up my hand, planting a kiss on my palm.

"I had a lovely time. Call me if you'd like to do this again."

"Your number?" His car door closed before he had a chance to answer. Disappointed, I slid into my car. He backed out and paused before leaving the parking lot. Sparkling red numbers wrote themselves in the air before fading. I heard his car pull away as I quickly added his number to my phone.

I didn't think much on the drive home. Humming along to music, I pictured those glowing numbers over and over. I'd never dated a guy with that much flair. I wouldn't call him tonight, or even tomorrow. I'd let him stew a bit, rehash every move, thinking he might have pushed too hard.

I was silly. A guy like that didn't think about his moves after he'd done them. He knew they worked; it was only a matter of time. He hadn't struck me as a player, just a nice guy who knew how to leave a girl asking for more, but I'd been fooled before. I'd call him back, agree to take it slow, and see what he was made of.

Chapter 17: Elron

I strode through the woods, feeling the strength of the trees. Elves my age weren't supposed to go through so many changes. It wasn't good for us. At my age, any sensible elf would have settled down, had a child or two, and been in the midst of a very long, happy life.

I'd left sensible behind long ago, and I was seriously considering doing everything elves my age shouldn't do. After all, I hadn't done any of the things I should've been doing. It was relaxing to leave the rules of the forest folk and start over.

I spent years grieving after Sylvia died. Now I believed I'd spent too much time in mourning and not enough doing things. With all the time on my hands, I hadn't accomplished much other than dwelling on the unchangeable. Humans had a few things right. Keeping busy might be one of the ways to be happy. Mother Earth knew I hadn't been happy for the many years I'd spent idle.

I didn't want to spend the rest of my long life wishing my time on this beloved place was over. I wanted to sing, dance, and feel the joy my people were known for. I wanted to remember the Elron who was known for his skill with a harp, not his sorrow over love lost.

"Elron, greetings brother," Salaron called out, interrupting my thoughts.

"Greetings."

"I was surprised to hear that you'd left the forest."

"Nothing lasts forever, my friend, not even for ones as long-lived as ourselves."

"You speak truth. I see more change in you than I'd expected."

"You see truly, a gift to be cherished."

"You have my thanks. I have heard you seek my company and perhaps knowledge?" Salaron leaned against a pine tree with his arms folded across his chest.

"Yes. I'm looking for information regarding a young witch."

"There are many that could be described thusly."

"But only one was bearing the name Michelle Oaks." I watched him closely, noticing his eyes widen.

"I stand corrected. There's only one with a history such as hers."

"My friend, what can you tell me of her history or her parents?"

"Sit, brother. We have much to discuss." Salaron patted the log next to him. "It began, oh, thirty years prior to this day. It is a story of much love, hate, and betrayal. A mother had a child she was greatly disappointed in. She'd had high hopes for this child, and to her this child would never do."

"At the same time there was a boy nearing manhood who wanted more than he had. Years passed, and he found one of the things he'd been looking for, but finding it was far easier than keeping it would be. The woman he wanted was from…"

Chapter 18: Michelle

I called Amber as soon as I parked the car, knowing I wouldn't be able to contain myself. "Come on, pick up, pick up." I skipped and danced through the hallways, heading back to my room.

"Hi, Michelle."

"Amber, I just had the best date."

"You had a date?"

"Yes."

"Tell me everything. You haven't had a date since you started the business. I want every detail. Who is he?"

"He's a medical warlock, working at the hospital up in Fannin County. His name is Andrew, and he's really cute."

"How'd you meet him?"

"I have a lot to tell you and Tiffany at dinner, but I was working a case up there that he was working too. I gave him my card, and he called to ask me out."

"Wow, you must have made some impression."

"I guess so. Amber, he gave me a formal greeting."

"I didn't think that was common."

"It's not."

"When's the second date?"

"We didn't set one up; he wants me to call him. Get this, when we were leaving he kissed my hand, like he would for a formal occasion. After I was in my car, he wrote his phone number in red sparkling letters in the air."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"He went to a lot of effort, didn't he?"

"Why? What are you thinking?"

"Go on another date. Call him in a few days—let him suffer some first—but be careful. I don't want you to get hurt."

I drifted down from the giddy high I'd been riding. "Was it too much?"

"No, but trust is earned. He may heal people every day, save hundreds of lives, but he hasn't earned your trust yet."

"Warning received." I heard an odd beep from her end.

"Michelle, I need to go. I've got another call I need to take."

"Sure thing. We're still on for Friday right?"

"Oh, yeah. See you then, hon."

I flopped onto the sofa, not as thrilled as I'd been before, but still happy. I flipped on the television, surfing through channels. I passed two hours with a box of chocolate mint cookies and a documentary on incubi.

By the time the documentary was over, I'd finished the cookies, now knowing more about incubi than I had ever wanted to. I'd known incubi were created, but I hadn't known that anyone could become an incubus from sex addiction and a bit of magic. An incubus was a male, who fed off the sexual energy around him, regardless of his participation. A female who ate sexual energy was a succubus, differing from an incubus only in gender. They could indeed kill with sex, but it was difficult and required a fair amount of energy on their part. Another key fact I hadn't known was incubi could be born from a union between a succubus and an incubus.

Most incubi worked as strippers or prostitutes. They were attracted to lustful people, areas where lustful people gathered, and the pornography industry. They seldom gathered in large groups, I was relieved to hear, my fears of an incubi baby boom reduced. They also had a hard time feeding off each other. One of the informants, with his voice distorted and face fuzzed out, described it as never being full; you could eat and eat but it was never as good as eating something really nice and filling. Regular people, regardless of race, were a more filling meal.

I shuffled off to bed with mental images of an incubus sneaking into my room. The cookies hadn't dampened my aggravation with Amber. Her advice had been good, even if it killed my post-date high. I wanted to have fun, not worry over every move someone made on a date. After counting four hundred and two sheep, I finally fell asleep.

Later, I wasn't sure how much later, something woke me up. I snuggled in bed, listening for a reason to worry, when I heard the doorknob turn. I pulled a wand off the nightstand, ready to cast a spell. Would thinking about an incubus longingly, in passing, have been enough to summon one? I watched the door swing open, followed by the dark shape of a satyr. I knew this intruder, and he wasn't an incubus yet.

"Just a little look, not touch," he whispered.

I suppressed a snort. It wasn't enough for him to be getting it on with Priscele, he had to sneak into my room to look at me. Not wanting to see what he was planning on, I sat up. "Orzu," and his feet sank into the floor.

"I just wanted a little look, nothing more. A little look. You're so pretty, and you wouldn't have let me look at you," he pleaded.

"Sure you did. Fehu." I walked out of the room, wand in hand, grateful that I slept in a nice big T-shirt and boxers.

"Wait, don't leave me here!" he wailed.

"I'll only be gone a few minutes."

"Where are you going?" Not hearing an answer, he shouted, "Come back!"

I closed the door of my apartment behind me and headed down to Landa's rooms—she'd want to know what was going on. I knocked on the door. As I was standing there, I realized I didn't know what time it was.

Surprisingly quickly, Landa poked her head out. "What do you need, dear?"

"I just trapped a satyr in my bedroom."

Her big brown eyes blinked. "Tironious is trapped in your bedroom? How did he get stuck there?"

"He woke me up while he was sneaking over to my bed to 'look at me.' I made the floor soft so he'd sink in before solidifying it again." I shrugged.

"I warned him. I told him if he did anything, anything"—the air around her vibrated—"out of line, he was gone." She looked me in the eye. "I'll fix this."

Landa marched past me. I trailed along behind her, not wanting to miss this. She strode right into my room and rounded the door to my bedroom before I could see anything.

"It's not what it looks like, Landa. I just wanted a look. Maybe I had more to drink than I should have, but no harm would I have done," he squeaked.

"No. After this night, you will never do harm in this house."

I walked through the doorway, seeing Tironious cowering and trying to look at Landa but unable to pivot. I'd never seen Landa vibrating with energy.

"Michelle, let him go."

I flicked my wand upward. "Ansu." He popped out of the floor.

"Tironious, out!" She followed him out of my apartment. "He will not bother you again, child."

She closed the door behind her, and I heard all the locks fall into place. Relieved none of this was my problem, I settled back into my bed. All we needed now was an incubus, and we'd see Tironious join a new species.

Chapter 19: Michelle

Other than the late-night adventures, I was happy. It had been more than twenty-four hours since I'd seen Elron. I hoped he was gone permanently, but I didn't think I'd be that lucky.

I slowed as I neared the dining room. Lately, I'd had all sorts of strange feelings about eating. A week ago, I'd eaten and chatted with the residents, never caring who would be there. Meals hadn't been something I thought about at all. This new dynamic, of worrying who would be here, wasn't something I wanted to continue.

With that in mind, I marched in, finding Landa, Mander, and Tinver at the table. After gathering my food, I sat down next to Tinver, across from Landa.

"Michelle?"

"Hmm?" I looked at Landa.

"He will not bother you again. He is no longer welcome. I had a talk with another satyr. Tironious will face satyr justice."

"That seems appropriate. Thank you, Landa."

After a few minutes of quiet conversation, I couldn't stop myself. "Is Elron still staying here?"

"No, child, he's not."

She had a strange look on her face, one I couldn't read. I left the topic alone. His current absence was nice enough.

I was expecting the police to call today, not because I knew someone needed to talk to me, but because I was almost caught up on paperwork, didn't have any charms I needed to make, and I was looking at a day of research. Right now I needed to figure out how to find the trolls; easier said than done.

The map was driving me crazy. Even with the adjustments, it wasn't working, and I was running out of ideas. Witches weren't the best trackers because we needed an item connected to the individual we wanted to find. If I had something like a person's favorite shirt, hair, or nail clippings, I could track them anywhere. Without those, I was out of luck.

I jumped in my seat, coming back to the present. Finishing my breakfast, I returned to my apartment. After turning my phone volume up so I wouldn't miss its charming ring if anyone called, I started pulling out books, looking for anything that would help me track down the trolls.

I didn't have any idea what I was looking for in the books. My grand plan was to read the chapter summaries and then the indexes to see if anything looked useful. This was one situation where I'd prefer to read more than less. It's hard to know where a useful idea will hide, and I didn't want to miss one.

My phone rang while I was reading the first chapter summary of the first book. With a gusty sigh I flipped the book shut and answered the phone, "Oaks Consulting."

"Michelle, it's Rodriguez."

"What do you need?"

"I've got a set of decorative lions that are trying to eat people entering a house. I can't do anything about them, and they nearly bit a guy's leg off. Can you come out?"

"Sure thing."

Address in hand, phone in pocket, I headed out. My hours might not have been dependable, but the police could be counted on to interrupt anything but paperwork.

Luckily, it wasn't a long drive, and if things went smoothly I'd have more than enough time to finish my research later. Without the research, I didn't have any new ideas for tracking the trolls. Carls was itching to get rid of me. I wasn't sure if he could fire me, but according to his timeline, I had four days to find the trolls. Four days to work a miracle, and I was running short on ideas, sleep, and magic.

I wound through a few back roads until I was in the upscale neighborhood with big houses, big fences, and gates. I hardly needed the directions. Police cars were parked around one of the houses. This one had an iron gate with a motion sensor to swing it open. Their wall wasn't anything special, just a well-kept black wooden fence. The brick-and-column colonial house didn't look like lions would fit its décor.

I couldn't get all the way up the driveway without blocking in cars, so I pulled onto the grass and parked. I dumped my keys in the passenger seat, grabbed my duffel, and emerged from the car. Listening, I could hear voices from the top of the drive. With no better place to go, I followed the sounds, expecting to find Rodriguez with the group.

I wasn't exactly sure why this had been an emergency call for me. Most things attacked, the victim was sent to the hospital, and the object was confiscated. My expertise was usually needed for disposal, though I was considering helping with tracking some of these things down. Many of the items should never have found human owners, and I had more than a passing suspicion that some clans were dealing black market enchanted goods.

"Michelle, come on. We need you over here now." Rodriguez appeared around a car and dragged me over to a knot of people standing a few feet away from a path leading to the front door. Everyone was giving two stone lions, and the person still in the right lion's mouth, a wide berth.

One lion was sitting with its left paw resting on top of an upright shield decorated with a paw print. A lion's print, I presumed. The lion on the right wasn't mirroring, mostly because it was halfway off its pedestal to clamp his jaws around a man's leg. Sweat was pouring off the poor balding man's forehead, dripping on his nice suit. The jacket might be saved by a good dry cleaning, but the pants, with blood trickling down them, were a lost cause. A medical witch was standing just out of reach of the lion, performing what distance spells she could.

Before I had time to look at anything else, Rodriguez started speaking to me again. "His leg may be lost already, but odds are he's going to die if we can't get him loose soon."

"What happened?" It would take me a lot longer to free him if I had to discover everything about how the creatures worked before I could start undoing anything.

"Mrs. Abernathy"—he nodded toward an older woman in a pink sweater, tan skirt, and pearls—"bought these at an estate sale a few days ago. She had the gardeners set them out last night. Mr. Abernathy says they let him walk away just fine, but when he was returning with the paper, they growled at him as he neared and bit him when he tried to walk past. His wife heard the noise, saw what they'd done, and called us. She can walk through them just fine. All the rest of us get growls.

I wasn't going to have a second person maimed by these things. The witch says if she can't get her hands on him soon the leg's gone and odds are he's going to follow."

"The wife can get through?" See, little details like this were important.

"Sure. She was standing next to him when we arrived."

Rodriguez might not have the magic to deal with the lions, but if he'd known more about how spells like this worked, he might have been able to solve the current problem.

"What's the witch's name?"

"Mary Bells."

"Mrs. Abernathy, could you come over here?"

She hurried over, wide-eyed and hugging herself. "Who— Can you help my husband?"

"I'm Michelle Oaks, a witch, and I'm here to help. Now, I need you to be very brave and do exactly what I say. I will protect you, but no matter what else, you have to listen to me. Can you do that?" She nodded. "Good. Then follow me."

I led her over to the other witch but kept the two of us a couple of feet behind her. "Bells, could you stop for just a moment and come over here?"

A moment later, she dropped out of the light trance she'd been in and turned around to study us.

"I can get you to him, and then I can get him out of the lion's mouth." I could if she trusted me.

Mary scrubbed a hand across her forehead. "What do you need me to do?"

"You can't be afraid, for him or of the statues. If you're afraid, this won't work. I can shield you. You won't be in any danger." With that they relaxed. "Mrs. Abernathy, I need you to walk arm in arm with Bells past the statues. You need to chat while you're doing this. Once you're both past them, Bells will ask to look at the lions, and you'll agree and lead her back over to the one with your husband. You"—I looked at Mrs. Abernathy—"will stand a little bit behind her. Move away when Bells does, but listen for anything else I tell you."

I positioned them, reminded them to relax, and cast the shield. I could feel the shield around them, but I didn't think the lions could.

The lions hadn't been intended to be the only house guards. They'd been designed to work with other defenders, each targeting something different, making it nearly impossible for any intruder, or even a group of intruders, to leave unscathed. These should be the basic physical defenders, programmed to recognize specific people and types of people but ready to detain anyone who didn't match those descriptions.

Basic door guards were usually spelled to listen to whoever purchased them. Mrs. Abernathy had purchased them and directed their placement in her car and outside her house. From those actions, they identified her as the person to respect and protect. The two women walked past the lions without any trouble. I dismissed the shield. Free of the shield, they were able to get the witch's hands on Mr. Abernathy.

"Mrs. Abernathy," I called softly.

"Yes?"

"I need you to look at the one holding your husband and say 'Release.'" I wasn't sure that would be the right word, but it was the best bet. Most people don't want to think too hard about commands, so they were in their first language. If this didn't work, I'd start looking up the equivalent in every language I knew as I figured out how to pull the magic out of the lions.

She slowly let out a deep breath, stilled, and ordered, "Release."

The lion rumbled, but dropped her husband on the ground. The witch pulled him away while starting to heal him. Running over, I placed a shield around the lions to keep them from hurting anyone else. After I finished the shield, I rushed to the injured man. I couldn't heal, but I could feed Bells energy. Kneeling behind her I placed a hand on the nape of her neck, gently pushing energy into her. She swallowed the energy, draining power out of me.

With my spare hand, I fumbled through my duffel until I reached one of the strongest healing charms. I yanked it out of the bag, leaned over, and pressed it into her hands. The healing charm would work on all of Mr. Abernathy, letting the witch focus her energy on the worst injuries.

A minute later, I felt her relax and limit the energy she was receiving. I slowed down the flow to a trickle, letting her choose when to cut it off. Breaking contact with her, I rocked back on my heels, needing a moment to adjust. Where the people around us had come from, I didn't know, but paramedics had rushed over at some point and were pulling Mr. Abernathy onto a gurney and loading him into the ambulance that had managed to back between the trees and flower beds.

Someone cleared their throat behind me, and I twisted around to see Rodriguez staring at me.

"What?" I'm sure I sounded annoyed; I hated being watched.

"If you're up to it, we still need to deal with the lions."

"Crap. All right, help me up." He pulled me up, grabbed the duffel, and guided me back in front of the lions. They were cute, and I doubted they'd cause any trouble in the right hands. Guards like this weren't effective if they tried to eat everyone.

"Could you turn them over to me?"

"What are you thinking, Michelle?"

"These guys aren't really dangerous; they just need to be told boundaries. I can do that." Besides, I could use door guards right now.

He rocked back and forth, thinking it over. "I can sign them over to you and put in the registration paperwork, but they have to be documented."

"Most of the magical things I own need to be documented. I'm not worried about paperwork." Seriously, I had to be registered as a practicing magic user, and more than a few spell components were regulated.

"Fine. Do you need help getting them in your car?"

"Nope." I had a plan.

"Then I'm out of here. See ya later."

"See ya."

He was rolling down the driveway when I approached the lions, which were still stuck in a shield bubble. I snapped my fingers; their eyes focused on me. "The two of you are in my possession now. I'm going to shrink you so I can move you more easily, and you're going to do exactly what I say. Okay?"

They nodded.

"Jera," I said as I circled them with my wand. Stopping the power closed the spell, leaving them knee-high. With a flick of my wand, the shield around them vanished. "Nazid." I poked a surge of power to them, and they floated above the ground. With my wand, I shooed them into the backseat of my car where I broke the spell.

On the drive home, I cheerfully belted out a few tunes. Now I had guards. The lions would be living outside my bedroom door. No more satyrs would be sneaking in for a look. I wished I'd had them when he'd tried, but it was nice to know nothing else would be creeping into my room.

At home, I levitated them back to my apartment and examined them closer. The lions were a basic physical guardian. I enlarged them until they could barely fit on each side of the door. I gave them a few instructions but prevented them from leaving the area right around the door, feeling far more secure in my apartment defense.

Lunch was fun, and my after-lunch e-mail check revealed a few more registrations for the class. I needed to gather supplies and finalize the details. Before I could focus on the classes, I needed to clear up the troll problem. I went back to my research, slowly picking through a pile of books as the afternoon waned.

By dinner I had a short list of ideas to try when I drove up to Forsyth tomorrow. Jones and I had arranged to spend the day trying to find the trolls since they were threatening both of our jobs.

Heading down to dinner, I was still stumped. There wasn't a good reason why these trolls were so hard to find. Trolls weren't subtle creatures. We should be finding them stomping through yards and causing panic at the grocery store. I pushed the issue away, my stomach reminding me that I should be focused on dinner.

Nearing the dining room, I realized I'd yet to tell Landa about my new door guards. I was working on a way to casually mention the lions, but I was distracted by a silver head at the sideboard. "What are you doing back?"

He wasn't supposed to be here. He had left—for good, I'd hoped. Why was that Narzel-loving man back?

Elron looked up. "I take it you weren't expecting me?" he said mildly.

"Why do you keep coming back?"

"Haven't you heard of old elves and wanderlust?"

"Then why haven't you wandered far, far away?" Seriously, the man wouldn't leave.

"I'm old. I move slowly. I need a place to stay while I explore."

He winked and turned back to finish loading his plate. I stood there, my mouth slightly agape. A second or two later I fumbled forward to collect my dinner. By the time I set my food down, I'd collected a small plate of mushroom, spinach, and ricotta pasta salad as well as a large gingerbread cookie and hunk of chocolate cake.

"Michelle, was there something you wanted to tell me?" Landa glared at me.

"I've acquired two guardians; they're sitting outside my bedroom door." She hadn't stopped glaring. I sighed. "My apologies, Elron. I was rude to have addressed you thusly."

He smiled from next to me. "Accepted, fair one, though I had hoped you would be happy to see me."

I didn't know how he did it, but he was always next to me. It left me wanting to know if he liked being next to me or if he enjoyed being annoying. "How am I a fair lady? My hair is brown."

The corner of his mouth tilted up. "You misunderstand. Fair wasn't referring to your hair. It's a poor translation of an Elvish term."

"Again, my apologies." I didn't know what else to say.

"No need. The young are often rude."

"I'd prefer to say honest. Is that not a trait valued in young elves?"

"Valued? Yes, but civility is also prized. It's such a shame others don't value common courtesy as well."

"We value civility. We value honesty as well and don't have as much time to bat words back and forth. You long-lived races make every discussion take ages."

"The young are often foolish, not understanding the value words may have."

"Understanding the value and realizing the impact are different and not always equal. It's far easier to say words than know their impact."

"Perhaps you are wiser than I'd credited."

I let the conversation drop. I'd had far too much excitement in the past few days; I didn't want to argue. We both munched, and I continued to marvel over my new door guards and the effectiveness I expected from them.

"Elron, when do you start work?" Landa picked up the lagging conversation.

"Tomorrow. I expect it will be a long day."

"Where are you working?" No one had mentioned this to me. I'd have liked to know what the elf was doing, not because I liked him but to help me avoid him.

"I'm helping out at a garden. They have several exotic species that need special care." When he didn't elaborate, I was at a loss for a legitimate question.

Landa returned to an earlier statement of mine. "What guardians?"

"The lions that are outside my bedroom door."

She glared at me. I dropped my gaze to my plate, knowing I deserved it for being difficult. "Where did you get the guardians? What limitations did you give them?"

"I had a call from the police this morning where a couple had picked these up at an estate sale. One of the lions had bitten the husband, and they were both on guard. They needed some direction, nothing more. I've only allowed them in the doorway of my bedroom, and they can't seriously hurt anyone." As far as it went, it was true—not the full truth, but true.

"Make sure you didn't leave any loopholes in those orders."

"I'm not careless, Landa." I sighed. "I didn't want a repeat of last night."

Elron nearly swiveled around in his chair. "What happened?"

"I'd rather not discuss it." The last thing I needed was for him to get any bright ideas.

"A former guest broke into her room. He will not be staying here again." Landa was a wealth of information tonight.

"Many thanks. It's always good to know recent happenings."

I tried not to stab my food viciously as I fumed. He didn't need to know about my problems. The satyr was gone and wouldn't be returning. There wasn't any reason in the world that little incident should be required gossip.

Finishing my food was the only polite way to get out of this. Eating quickly wasn't something I did much, making it more difficult to be discreet about my escape plan. The conversation flowed around me while I shoveled food into my mouth.

"Michelle, you've been quiet." Elron was annoyingly perceptive.

"Nothing to say." I stuffed another bite in my mouth.

"Before you run away, I want to give you something." He reached into the pocket of the jacket hanging on the back of his chair and pulled out a small flower. It was lavender with pointy leaves, blue stripes running down the petals, and a short stem. He set it next to my plate. "It will bloom for weeks if you leave it somewhere moist."

Stunned, I gently stroked a petal. "Thank you."

I was still stunned when I meandered back to my apartment. The little flower was a lovely addition to my bathroom, where it would have steam from the shower. Looking at the contrast between the flower and my mostly white bathroom, I felt like I was missing something important.

Research was slow, especially with the breaks I took to stay awake and the flower to distract me, but through the afternoon I learned a few things. The books left me with a short list of potential solutions. Tomorrow I could put together supplies and outline several spells.

After microwaving my dinner, I sat in front of the television, ready to lose myself in pretend troubles. Halfway through a show about humans who passed off illusions as magic, I realized tomorrow was girls' night out and I couldn't leave for Forsyth until I'd seen them. I couldn't skip—girls' night kept me sane.

Chapter 20: Michelle

The clothes were easy to pack. Fitting all the magical supplies in two small bags and a box was more challenging. I flipped on the television for background noise while I shoved the important books in a backpack. The forecast caught my attention.

"Snow is expected over most of northern Georgia tonight. Six inches could fall between midnight and four in the morning."

"Narzel fart," I swore. The last thing I needed was to miss my deadline because of snow. Nothing filled me with as much dread as arguing for my job because of weather. I wanted a chance to prove myself, show my skills.

Contrary to popular belief, witches couldn't change the weather. On a good day, I couldn't even influence it much. The best I could do was urge a breeze or cloud along. Moving a storm system or preventing snow was beyond my capabilities.

I muttered all the way down to the dining room, relieved Elron wasn't at the table. If I was lucky, he was at work and wouldn't make an appearance. Landa, on the other hand, was waiting for me.

"I'll get a plate for you, child."

Like a good little girl, I sat down and waited on her. If she was going through this much trouble, there was something she wanted to say to me.

"Here you go."

Sliding in front of me was a lovely plate of pita with hummus and a side of roasted vegetables. The food looked delicious so I started on it, ensuring a full mouth to buy me a few seconds when I had to answer a question.

"Child, what's your problem with Elron?" She was sitting across from me with a cup of hot chocolate.

I slowly chewed what was in my mouth. I had a lot of problems with Elron. "He bothers me."

She glared at me.

I sighed. "For two people who don't get along, he spends a lot of time trying to be close to me."

"Why would you think the two of you don't get along?"

"We argue, bicker, and disagree on almost everything. We've had one civil conversation since we met." Really, what did she think I was going to say?

Her lips tightened into one thin line. "Bickering and disliking one another are different."

"We do both."

"Give it some time. You might change your mind."

Between the stress, worry, and this conversation, my small quantity of patience had been exhausted. "What do you want, Landa?"

"Give him a chance?"

"To do what?"

"Be, live, get to know you."

"What good could that do?" I didn't want to know him better. I wanted him to leave me alone.

"The old have defenses, child. Give them a chance to come down. There is more to him than biting words. It'll take time to see those parts of him." There was a pleading look in her eyes.

Pushing my empty plate away, I looked her in the eye. "I just want him to leave me alone. If I can't have that, I want peace. We found peace last night. I just want to keep that. I need to finish packing." With that, I nearly ran out of the dining room. The past few weeks had included far more emotional conversations than I'd want to have in a month or six.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed as I walked past, reminding me that I should fit a run in before meeting with the girls. The dreary sky, cold weather, and possibility of rain didn't bother me. If snow was coming, I wanted to run while I could.

Running cleared my head. Panic of losing my fledgling career clarified. Carls could try to fire me, but that didn't mean I'd lose this job, or the rest of my clients. I'd done everything I could, and there was documentation to prove they hadn't used the magic I'd provided effectively. I had three days to fix the troll problem and was confident I'd prove my worth.

The other big thing on my mind was my father. It was taking time to come to terms with having a father. He loved me, wanted to be there for me, but I didn't feel like he'd fought to be in my life. It was hard to see us having a normal father-daughter relationship, but we were making progress. He was trying to be around and was determined to help me with the class. Time would help the relationship feel more natural.

Then there was my date with Andrew. It had been wonderful, but very convenient. I'd seldom dated other witches. To have the perfect guy appear, happy to date a clanless witch, right after my father had come in to my life, was more serendipitous than I trusted. I needed to call Andrew and find a way to test him.

After my run, I hurried to shower. We'd moved dinner an hour earlier so I could drive to work and they could drive home. None of us wanted to drive in snow.

Water was falling, and I had lights reflecting around the walls. Still feeling stressed, I spelled harp music and enjoyed my shower. I couldn't justify doing this in a hotel. The spells were small and shouldn't cause any problems, but my bathroom, well, all my rooms, were spelled to contain magic. The containment spells had been necessary when I moved in; no one wanted a spell gone wrong leaking out. I couldn't count on a hotel room having containment spells, nor could I spare the energy to spell them myself.

Reluctantly, I turned the water off. Even more reluctantly, I pushed back the curtain, letting the cooler air swirl around me.

"Sweet bones of Narzel." I scrambled back, slipped, and was falling before my brain had a chance to remind me that running backward in the shower was a bad idea. Thumping onto the floor, I scrambled into a sitting position as I watched a green vine creep over the edge of the tub. The vine wasn't the only thing that had changed. The cute little flower was now two feet across and occupying most of a wall.

Admittedly, the lavender petals with blue streaks livened up the wall, but the thing hadn't been a full two inches across yesterday. Looking at the way the plant had expanded over the bathroom, I didn't think it was after me. Its shoots had headed for the areas with the most moisture, and I was sitting in a damp tub.

Now that I didn't feel endangered, I noticed the aching hip, wrist, and cut shin where I must have hit the faucet. "I hope Narzel eats you, you stupid elf," I muttered as I stood up, finding more bruises, and started extracting my towel from a tangle of plant parts.

My bathroom had been transformed into a jungle by one tiny flower growing exponentially, sending vines all over the room. I'd left the plant on the counter next to the sink, where it now occupied most of the wall between there and the tub. The vines had snaked across the vanity, winding through the hand towels, over to the towel rack and around my bath towel.

Slipping out of my bathroom, I closed the door, hoping to prevent the vine from spreading. Clothing was picked hastily. I brushed my hair, not worried about how it would dry, and went in search of Landa. I couldn't rearrange my evening for a plant or a stupid elf.

"Landa?" Nothing. "Landa!" I yelled again.

"Kitchen."

With great effort, I refrained from stomping as I stormed into the kitchen. "You, or the elf, need to deal with the flower eating my bathroom."

She set down the knife, leaving potatoes uncut. "Flower?"

"The stupid, stupid elf gave me a flower. He said to leave it somewhere moist, so I stuck it in the bathroom. Now, the entire bathroom is covered with bits of that flower. I don't have time to deal with this. I have dinner with the girls before I'm driving to work."

"Wait, child. What did the flower do?"

"It exploded all over my bathroom."

She realized how aggravated I was, and her expression softened. "I'll deal with it, child."

"Thank you."

"Go have fun. This will be dealt with when you return."

"Landa, you're the best." She squeezed my hand, sending me off to have dinner with the girls.

The clock on my dash told me I was ten minutes late when I parked. Running inside, the music hit me, as did the warmth and warm bread smell. Amber waved to me from a booth, and I slid in across from her.

"How are you?" I asked.

"I'm good. Tiffany went to the bathroom. She should be back soon."

"Did you order yet?"

"Nope, we were waiting for you."

Tiffany sat next to Amber. "Hi, slowpoke."

I blushed. "I'm sorry."

"You can make it up to me by agreeing to split a pesto pizza with us," Tiffany said.

"As long as we get garlic knots as an appetizer."

"Done."

The waitress arrived in time to hear the bargaining. "A large pesto pizza and garlic knots?" she asked.

We nodded, as I added, "Could I get a sweet tea?"

"Sure. Do y'all need anything else to drink?" Amber and Tiffany shook their heads. "I'll have that out in a few minutes."

"How was the date with Mark?" I asked.

"Good. We've actually had two dates. Both were lovely. Tomorrow we are having dinner in the park."

"Oh, that'll be fun!" Tiffany beamed at her.

Amber nodded. "Everything is good. Nothing to report on this end. How have the two of you been?"

"Same cheating spouse, different day. It doesn't help that the love life is as barren as always." Tiffany sighed dramatically. "Michelle, please tell me you have something to talk about?"

"She had a date," Amber added.

"Spill."

"Slow down, girls. I had a date with a witch from Fannin County. We had coffee in Ellijay a few days ago. It was fun. He was very charming and polite. At the end of the date, he gave me his number." I quickly summed up the date.

"Did you call him?" Tiffany asked.

"Yes, I called him and left a message. He hasn't called me back yet."

"Poo. I don't like him." Tiffany stuck out her tongue.

"Tiffany! He works. I work. I don't have time for a second date anyway." Not wanting to spend any more time on Andrew, I changed the subject. "I don't know how to say this, but I met my father." From the mouths ajar, I figured I should explain while they recovered from the shock. "I dropped by Mom's house the other day, and he was there. It was rather awkward, but he wants to be in my life. He even agreed to help me teach a class to hedge-practitioners."

The pizza arrived while they were trying to form questions, and the rest of the discussion was broken up by pizza and garlic knots. Dinner flew by all too quickly, but by the end, we had decided my parents were weird, I should try to have a good relationship with my father, and gelato was a necessary part of the evening.

After hugs and promises to do this again soon, we headed out. The sky was cloudy when I started the drive. The weather worsened the longer I was in the car. Halfway to Forsyth, the first flurries tumbled out of the sky.

Two hours later, I was curled up in a hotel bed a few blocks from the police station. With the television off, the quiet was oppressive. No cars were out; the hotel was nearly empty, but through the window I could see two kids dancing. They scuffed, scooped, and mounded what was on the ground into a snowman between dancing in circles. Smiling, I watched them dash across the parking lot, tumbling to the ground before making snow angels.

One car rolled through the red light at the other end of the block. Idiot, I thought. Even the police were crawling through this weather.

Turning away from the window, I adjusted the heat, not wanting to be cold. My hand was leaving the temperature knob when a screech drifted through the window. Jerking up I saw the same car fishtailing down the road, headed for the curb guarding the hotel. The kids had stopped perfecting their snow angels, but didn't see the car because of a hedge. The same hedge blocked the driver's view.

The car swerved again, and I thought it would miss the parking lot, continuing down the road, but with another lurch it lined up to run down the children. The two of them were standing up, but would never have enough time to move.

With the car barreling through the hedge, I ran out of time. Throwing my hand out, I willed the strongest shield wall I could summon into existence. The car smashed into the wall, the backlash hitting me, landing me on my butt. I shook my head, trying to clear the dazed feeling.

I yanked myself up, uncertain if I'd saved the kids. The children weren't in the parking lot, but the car was crumpled, smoking, and stopped only feet from where I'd thrown the shield. My breath rushed out as I sank back on the floor. The unscarred cell phone was next to me. It must have fallen out of my pocket.

Mashing the speed dial, I waited for Jones to pick up. "Jones, I need a few units, an ambulance, and you at my hotel."

"Are you okay?"

"I think so."

"What happened?"

"I broke a car." Dumping the phone in my pocket, I threw on a jacket and boots, hearing the sirens as I started down the stairs. Jones was going to be mad at me.

The first policeman arrived the same time I did. I waved them away from the footprints and car tracks, trying not to contaminate the scene. Until Jones arrived, the tracks couldn't be preserved. I could've preserved them, but it was frowned upon since I'd been involved in the accident.

The clouds parted long enough for the full moon to wash the accident in a surreal silver light. Seconds later the moon was gone, hidden behind the snow-filled clouds. Red and blue lights flashed over the parking lot as the reinforcements arrived. The paramedics ran straight for the car.

I introduced myself to the officers; working with a police department didn't mean I knew everyone. Officer Tusca took my statement while the guy in the car was hauled into an ambulance. Officer Tusca finished questioning me before intercepting Jones, who needed to check the magical residue before speaking with me.

Two hours later, I'd finished my reports but was still at the police station sipping coffee to stay awake. Jones was never going to let me hear the end of this. Breaking a car was something he'd torment me with for years. As if summoned by my thoughts, he walked through the door.

"Before you say anything, I've finished the preliminary paperwork. We can talk about everything." He swung a chair around, sitting on it backward. "How are you feeling?"

"Light-headed, empty." Normally, I could feel energy inside me, rippling across my skin. Right now I felt a drop rather than a river of power. "I pulled some of the power out of the charms I was wearing or I'd be in worse shape."

He studied me, trying to find something in my face. "You saved those kids."

I shrugged, worried about the driver.

"The driver has a concussion. He's being kept overnight for observation. Even if he'd missed the kids, he would've hit the hotel. We're charging him with reckless endangerment."

"Good. I was worried I'd killed him." I didn't want to carry the death of a soul around for the rest of my life.

"If you care, he's actually a drunk, juiced-up dwarf. The lab's working on what transformed him to human size."

"Seriously?" I'd never heard of a drug that could do that.

"Yup. You did the right thing." He paused. "You look exhausted. I'll drive you back to the hotel. You need to rest if we're going to catch trolls tomorrow."

I set the cup on the table before I dropped it. "Thanks. I'll feel better in the morning."

As he guided me out of the room, I could see from the twist of his mouth that he had more to say. "You better be. We can't just leave those people-eating trolls out there. It isn't kosher."

Chapter 21: Michelle

"Michelle." Someone shook me gently.

I flailed at their hand and cuddled back into bed.

"Michelle, you need to get up." I was shaken again, a little less gently.

"Go away," I mumbled into my pillow. The muffled voices behind me talked about something for a while before they all quieted down. Grateful, I drifted off.

I shrieked, leaping out of the bed. With a heaving chest, I blinked rapidly, trying to get the water out of my eyes as it dripped off my hair. I spied Jones in my room. "What in the name of Narzel, are you doing?"

"Nice outfit, Oaks."

"Deal with it. I didn't feel like putting on clothes last night." I was standing in my now-wet sports bra and panties. "Why did you throw water on me?"

"It seemed like a good way to get you out of bed."

"And why are you in my room?" I asked.

"I got worried. We had planned to meet at nine. I gave you another hour to show up. It's nearly eleven." He was looking at the wall behind me.

I grabbed a sheet off the bed, wrapping myself. "Did you bring me tea?"

He handed me a warm mug. "It's your energy-building brew."

"Good." I sipped, feeling the warmth seep through me. "Now go away and let me dress." I watched him walk out of the room and close the door.

Once he was gone I took the fastest shower of my life, braided my wet hair, and pulled on the clothes I'd laid out before the craziness last night. Last night's efforts had left me ravenous, so I pulled a granola bar out of my suitcase before I left.

Jones was the only one outside the room. "I sent everyone else away."

I handed him the keys. "You're driving my car." I needed the supplies I'd packed, and it was a waste of time to move them.

"I figure we'll plan until a bit after noon, grab some lunch, and figure out the rest of the day while we're eating." He was watching me, just glances, as he drove.

"Done. I need another cup of tea before I'm useful." I'd done a number on myself last night. It wasn't good to pull that much energy through an unprepared body. The long, deep sleep and tea had helped, but I was dragging. Besides, no one was at their best after being awakened by cold water.

In the workroom, I poured another cup of tea, drinking it as quickly as possible. Ten minutes later, my brain had caught up with my body, and I was ready to work. "Help me bring a few things in from outside, please?"

I was on my best behavior. Jones was more of the make-fun-of-you type than the sympathetic type. I didn't want to hear funny Jones today; I wanted to get this done, keep my job, and deal with the plant in my bathroom.

At the car, I loaded him up with two duffels and a large box. I took a backpack, a small box, and a satchel. Everything left in the car was for emergencies. We set my stuff on a spare desk in the workroom, my home away from home for the next few days.

"What's the plan?" Jones questioned.

"What?"

"You do have a plan? All this stuff isn't just for show, is it?"

"Ugh, I'm never playing poker with you." I sighed. "Yes, I have a plan, or five." I hopped up on the desk, swinging my legs while I talked. "I want a few werewolves, or whatever shifters you have that can track, to look around. I don't think they'll find anything, not after all this time, without a specific area to search."

"Then why bother?"

I studied him, the face revealing nothing and the deceptively casual slump against the wall, not finding a clue to his thoughts. "I want them to look in areas where we've confirmed a troll presence. If they don't find anything outside the immediate vicinity, we'll know something is covering up their scent, perhaps more."

His eyes darted to the clock behind me. "I'll call a few people. We can discuss the rest of this over lunch, and everyone will be ready to roll a bit after one."

"Perfect." I studied the floor, not that there was anything special about it, to give me something to look at while he called everyone.

"Sandwiches?" he asked, more for tradition than need.

On the way to the office, I noticed the roads had less snow than I'd expected. Lots of other cars were on the road, and it was staying below freezing so there wasn't much ice.

Salazar's Subs had a big "open" sign flashing in the window, proof that some god favored me. I was able to get a tofu sub and a bag of chips.

"Where do you want the shifters to search?" Jones asked between mouthfuls of the biggest Ruben I'd ever seen.

"Around the blast site and the two murder scenes. I doubt they'll find anything around the blast, but it's worth checking." I munched a few chips while I thought. "What's the latest report on the blast?"

He hurried to swallow. "A group of four or so drove a cargo van up there. They set the blast, not entirely correctly as you know, loaded up the trolls, and took off."

"I don't want to spend much time there, just a quick check. I'd like to look at the other two more closely."

"Do you want me to send one shifter and his partner to the blast and have them report back?"

I considered. I wouldn't be there, but it would be so much more efficient. "What shifters do you have?"

"Two wolves, a jaguar, and a dog."

"White?"

"Yup. He's the only kitty with the department."

I giggled. "I wouldn't say that to his face."

"Eh, it's a running joke."

"Anyway, what if we send the weredog to the blast and take the rest to the chicken farm? Then we can all meet at the house in town. I think we'll find the most at the last place."

"Okay. Now, let me make sure I understand. You want us to have the shifters scout around to tell you they can't find anything because why?

"I think someone's using magic to hide the trolls," I told Jones.

"So not finding anything will prove that magic is hiding the trolls?"

"Yup."

"Why not look for magic?"

Sighing, I put my drink down. "Concealment spells don't work like that, or good ones don't. I'll check, but if they're good at hiding something, they would've laid the spell on the trolls. Then there wouldn't be a scent, or magic, left behind for us to follow."

"What if they were bad with magic?"

"Then they'd need to waste a lot more energy to cover the traces as they were left. The better spells take more skill and effort to set. The less effective spells are easier to set but draw small amounts of energy as something needs to be concealed."

"Let me guess. You'll know what we're dealing with after you know the type of spell that's being used."

"Exactly." I waited until he slurped down the last of his drink before taunting him. "Last one to the car's a rotten egg." I took off, laughing as he swore.

*******

Ten of us sat down in a small conference room to plan the afternoon. White, a jaguar, and his partner, Walker, were to my left. Across from me was Johnson, a dog, and Walters, a dwarf. The werewolves, Baker and Ray, were sitting closer to Jones. Their partners, Miller and Simmons, were with them.

Jones stood up and cleared his throat. "Today we are going to search several areas where we have confirmed troll activity. The shifters will be going out in their animal form in an attempt to track the trolls. Any questions?" He waited for a moment. "Good. White and Walker will be going to the troll preserve. The rest of us are going to the chicken farm and the house in town. Questions or comments?"

"I'm biting anyone that makes a joke about me." Johnson glared at the other guys.

"Why would they make a joke?" I asked.

He rolled his eyes. "You'll see. And I'm not above biting a woman."

"That's enough. Go shift." Jones shooed the shifters out of the room.

"I'm sorry about Johnson, ma'am," Walters said. "Back in training, some guys made fun of him because his other form is a golden retriever."

"Oh, thank you. I can see how that would be awkward."

Walters said, "He's sensitive."

I nodded. That was the kind of thing guys could make jokes about for days. Thanks to Walters's warning, I wasn't surprised when a mass of gold fur trotted through the door. The two werewolves and the jaguar were right behind Johnson. The shifters were buttoned into vests labeled Police.

White and Walker headed to the troll preserve while the rest of us formed a convoy out to the chicken farm. I would've enjoyed the convoy more if it hadn't been such a road block. One police car slows down traffic in both directions as people frantically chant, "Not me, not me!" Four police cars inspire the same fear coupled with curiosity. People want to know what the cops are doing; rubber-necking, gossip, and bad driving results.

We pulled into the chicken farm and rolled over to the still taped-off bit of grass and trees. As long as we stayed at the crime scene, there wasn't a reason to talk to the family. The conversations with them hadn't gone well last time, and I didn't care to meet them again.

The wolves ran out, eager to stretch their legs. The golden retriever was a bit slower but went to work right away. The rest of us watched them canvass the area, sniffing where the bodies had been and working outward from there. The three shifters crossed paths, followed each other, branched out, but all came to a stop fifty feet from where the troll's body had been.

Walters pulled out a dry-erase board, scribbling two lines on it. Johnson trotted over and nosed the top one. The two wolves also nosed the top line.

"The trail ends where they sat."

"Thanks," I yelled as I pulled out my wand. I'd really hoped I wouldn't be needed.

I cast a simple spell letting me see magical residue. The taped-off area showed nothing but a faint glow where the body had been. Outside the tape, there was nothing. I walked all over the areas the shifters had been to, past where they'd stopped, and waded through brush, looking for traces of magic.

Rejoining the group, I released the spell. "I didn't get anything. Does the medical examiner still have the body?"

Jones answered, "I don't know. I'll check when we get back. Let's get to the house in town."

This drive wasn't as fun as the last one, mostly because of my thoughts. I'd thought Carls was silly for refusing to use his shifters, or any nonhumans, to the best of their abilities, but it wouldn't have made any difference in this case. Not being fond of dead bodies, I really didn't want to work on one in hopes of learning about the concealment spell. Working closely with dead bodies made me ill.

Jones's phone rang, startling me.

"Jones." He listened for a moment before saying, "Oh really? Good. We'll meet you in town."

He hung up before addressing me. "They didn't find anything. White was able to find an area he thinks the van was loaded in, but nothing else."

"I expected as much. I've been thinking. Could you get that captured troll for me to look at?" Not that I wanted to be near a live troll, but it might be a better than the dead ones.

"I might. Thought it would be better if we could use the dead one. The folks at the troll preserve have been hard to deal with lately. The feds have been out there gathering evidence, and three people have been arrested and charged with fraud."

"Really?" Best news I've heard all day. Considering how those trolls were being treated, only good things could come from the feds getting involved. "Good. The trolls should be treated better. I've been to other preserves where they're more civilized. You can talk to some of them. They teach classes for their young. They aren't monsters."

"You won't get any arguments from me as long as I'm not on the menu." He chuckled.

"What's new with the rest of the organization?"

"Eh, we have a few leads, but we're worried about tipping them off. These people are organized and good at slipping away. We want to get them, but it's been hard to gather evidence when we can't talk to anyone."

"So you don't know anything?" I asked. Either he wasn't in the loop, or the police were at a dead end.

"We're monitoring e-mail accounts, phone conversations, and we have a few people under surveillance. The phones are hard because most people know to use a disposable, but they tend to slip up and call numbers we can trace, which helps." He sounded aggravated with the bother.

"If I can trace the practitioner, a big piece should fall into place." It was a good theory, but I had a problem with it. There weren't many witches independent of clans, and anyone with a clan wouldn't want to face clan justice after branching out on a radical plot like this. Hedge-practitioners wouldn't have the power to cast these concealment spells, and sorcerers were rare. I wasn't sure when the last one had been confirmed. It has to be a witch or sorcerer.

"What are the odds you'll find the practitioner?"

"I wouldn't put money on it."

"Kinda what I thought." He turned a corner, and we entered a residential area with cars parked in driveways and on the curb. On the second street, he spied a car without a license plate, quickly calling in the location.

White and Walker were already parked in the driveway when we pulled up next to the curb. We gathered on the lawn while the shifters sniffed around. I was frustrated that only Walters and Walker were prepared to communicate with their partners at a moment's notice. No one else had a system like the dry-erase boards, or any system that I could see.

The shifters walked back and forth, around the house, into neighbors' yards, and came to a halt in the street two houses down. With a sigh, I cast the spell to see magic. There was nothing in the garage or on the property. Trotting over to where they had stopped, I looked around. Nothing, again. I was tired of the total lack of evidence around these crimes. It wasn't good for me.

I shook my head as I walked back. "Jones, let's go back, let the guys shift, and we'll talk. I want everyone's thoughts before I start working with dead, autopsied bodies or live trolls looking for an evening snack." Before we left, I thanked the shifters, not wanting to forget.

Thankfully, the drive back to the office was short, not long enough for much talking. I didn't want to talk. I wanted to worry about my job. Dozens of ways my business could die as a result of this case flashed through my head, each less comforting and less realistic than the last.

Back at the office, the guys shifted back to their human form and were busy chewing down some snacks as we talked. Every power had a cost. Shifting used energy, leaving them hungry.

"What did y'all notice?" Jones started.

Speaking for the group, White answered. "Oaks was right. There were scents around the crime scenes, like you'd expect, but nothing farther out. The trail stopped. There wasn't a scent to follow. Also, those trolls didn't smell like the trolls out at the preserve."

"Everyone agree?" I asked. All the shifters nodded. "What was different about the smell?"

They considered for several moments before Johnson broke the silence. "It was floral, and dead. Have you read about those corpse flowers, the ones that smell like a decomposing animal? It smelled how I think that would smell. It's hard to detect because trolls tend to smell a bit like dead things anyway."

"Titan arum." I answered, a feeling of dread balling in my gut. Only sorcerers who acquired their power from an evil source smelled like floral-rotting mammals. I continued before they could catch my fear. "Thanks guys. If you think of anything else let me know, okay?"

They agreed. I thanked them again as they left me alone with Jones and my fear.

"Spill. You have that look, like you know something you don't want to share, but I'll annoy you until you tell me." He grinned, knowing my aggravated look was coming.

He had to know. The case was in his county, where he would be on the front line. "If I tell you, do you have to tell Carls?" I might be able to fix this, keeping my job. If Jones told Carls, I'd be gone.

"It depends. Is it something I would be required to tell him?"

"If I said yes?"

"Then I think we should take a walk behind the station." He picked up two cups of coffee, guiding me to the back door.

I'd never been on the path behind the office. It wound through the edge of the park, giving people a convenient way to get away from work during breaks.

"Off the record."

"Off the record," I agreed. "I think there's a sorcerer, or sorceress hiding the trolls. I can't give you courtworthy proof. I might be able to tell how powerful he is, but I doubt he's scary powerful or he'd have magicked the trolls right out of the preserve."

His normally jovial face fell. "How bad is it?"

"I don't know. I can try a few things to figure out how powerful the scent was on the dead troll, if it's still there, but it isn't a direct correlation between scent and power level. Not to mention, I can't use that as proof of a sorcerer."

"What if they come to fight you?"

"Then I'm screwed. After last night, I'm not prepared for a fight. If the sorcerer is powerful enough to confront me, thinking he'll get away with it, I don't have a chance. To save energy, I'm going to use rituals to cast spells." The thought of dueling with a sorcerer made goose bumps cover my arms and legs while a shiver ran down my spine. I had a long life ahead of me. I wasn't planning on losing it to some power-hungry psycho.

"What can you do?" He'd stopped walking.

"I might be able to get the trolls, but I won't promise until I've looked at a few things." Really, promising anything would be a mistake. I didn't want to be held to anything I couldn't deliver.

"What if you can't?"

"Then I'll go tell the assistant sheriff he can fire me. If I fail, he needs to hire a clan. I'm risking enough as it is."

His brow wrinkled. "How risky is your plan?"

"We'll know when it bites me in the ass."

Chapter 22: Michelle

Capturing a sorcerer wasn't a situation that had crossed my mind when I was planning. It had been at the very bottom of my worst-case list and had only been on that list because I liked being prepared. Sorcerers showed up every ten or fifteen years. Not often enough for me to think I'd be finding one. Jones and I pulled several more boxes of now-necessary supplies out of my car. Spell components needed to be made, books needed to be consulted, and time was running out.

There were several spells witches didn't perform often but still learned. My education had included those. Lucky for me, I'd packed A Practical Guide to Combating Evil, which contained those spells. I hadn't wanted to bring the book because it was big, heavy, and rarely useful. Now, I was grateful to have it. After finding the correct page, I pulled a special oak box out of the cardboard boxes.

It wasn't an ordinary box, even for a wooden box. The oak was etched with signs for purity, safety, and containment. Blessing the box had been an extra precaution I'd taken.

The contents of the box were more extraordinary than their simple designs would indicate. Every bit of the supplies had been blessed, purified, and cleansed. The long, thin wooden sticks, different-sized squares of cloth, corks, gloves, glass vials of various sizes, jars of herbs and oils weren't everyday supplies. They were prepared and carefully stored for emergencies.

I pulled out several of the match-like wooden sticks and squares of cloth. Using a small grease pen, I wrote runes for the spell. This wasn't something I wanted to use personal power for directly. Having power in direct contact with something contaminated by evil could give the evil a way to access my power and influence my judgment. Smart witches cast spells through runes or objects when confronted with evil. Once evil accessed a witch's power, there weren't many ways of purifying the contamination. Most of the ways I'd heard of witches being purified didn't end well for the witch.

Slowly, over the next few hours, I constructed three Sorc-O-Meters and containers to place them in once they'd been used. The scrapers were harder. Scrapers were textured, making defined runes difficult. I spent more time inscribing two scrapers than everything else. Corks, jars, and vials were much easier. Grease pens worked very well on them, and they were already designed to contain. Working within something's design was the best way to guarantee performance.

The cloth had been tricky to produce. I prepared a batch of cloth once a year by washing, blessing, and soaking it in specific solutions. Few witches went through the trouble every year. If properly stored, it would be perfect for many functions for nearly ten years. With a bit of refreshing, it would be nearly as powerful as when it was first crafted. This particular cloth had only been purified a few weeks ago. I didn't believe in using old goods when the poop hit the fan. I could always use the rest of my stash for less critical spells; I wanted the best when it counted.

I finished my preparations and tidied the work space. My rumbling tummy would have to wait. The medical examiner's office was expecting me, and I didn't want to work on a body with a full stomach.

At the medical examiner's office, I gently settled the nose clip over my nostrils, an odor-neutralizing mask over my nose and mouth, and pulled on gloves and lab coat. Out in the open, fresh bodies weren't that bad. Well aged, and indoors, was a different story. I needed to get up close and personal to acquire samples, which was gross enough on its own, but I knew I'd throw up if I had to smell the trolls. I'd nearly hurled, dissecting a fetal pig in college; an icky troll wouldn't have any trouble making me throw up.

Jones nonchalantly strolled in, laden with a tray of supplies, not at all concerned to be in a room filled with bodies. The smell of dead things didn't bother him. I wasn't sure if some people weren't bothered or if it was an acquired skill. If it was the latter, I didn't want to spend enough time around them to acquire immunity.

The room looked like something out of a horror show, with shiny metal tables, sliced-open bodies, and a wall refrigerator. How people worked in this day in and day out was beyond me. I needed light, nature, and the outdoors to steady myself.

Jones turned to a body on a gurney, out of the way of the rest of the room. He set the tray on a small workbench next to the corpse before pulling the sheet off him. My innocent eyes told me trolls may have been ugly clothed, but naked wasn't an improvement.

"The wood?" He plopped a bit of wood that looked like a long match into my hand. The Sorc-O-Meter's white tip would change color if there was an essence of sorcerer near it.

I gently moved the tip down the length of its torso, not touching the body, just the air about the body. The tip slowly changed from white to purple. Jones dropped a bottle into my open hand. I stuck the stick in, colored side first, before capping it with a cork. I handed it back to him.

"Well, there is some essence of the sorcerer in the remains of the troll's aura. Let's try the skin," I said. Jones nodded his agreement.

With the next Sorc-O-Meter, I tested the troll's skin, dragging it down the slowly decaying flesh. This one turned purple almost immediately. I hurried to shove it in a bottle.

"Finally, some luck. I'm going to take skin scrapings and suck the sorcerer's essence out of them. I need the scraper and a vial."

"Great. What will you do with the essence?"

"Not sure. It depends on how much essence we get. I'll know after I do the extraction."

With the scraper, I raked skin cells off the troll, depositing them in the vial. I did this over and over, slowly working across the troll's chest. I needed the top layer of skin; anything deeper than that wouldn't be as useful. When it looked like I'd gathered nearly a teaspoon of skin cells, I dumped the scraper into the vial, capped it, and carried it over to the tray. Jones was scraping other parts of the troll.

"Done." He placed the capped vial on the tray. "Do we need anything else?"

"If there are any more blood samples from this guy, I'd like to test them." If the spells had contaminated the troll's blood, it might explain why the map hadn't been working as intended. It would also change how I dealt with the trolls and sorcerer. Sentient beings changed when evil was introduced.

"Let me check." He talked to the guy in the lab coat on the other side of the room. Lab Coat Guy ambled over to a refrigerator where he pulled out a labeled cup. Jones carried it over, carefully setting it on the table. It couldn't have contained more than a quarter cup of blood.

"Is this it?"

"No, but it was all he wanted to give me. Just test it. If we don't need more, I'd rather not argue with him." Irritation laced Jones's voice.

"All right." I picked up the last Sorc-O-Meter, unscrewed the cap, and just barely touched it to the blood. We both studied it. Ten seconds, then twenty, ticked away. "If it hasn't shown up by now, it isn't going to."

Breathing a sigh of relief, I capped the blood, letting Jones return it. It was a safe bet that the sorcerer wasn't powerful enough to do more than contain surface things, like hair, skin, spit, fingerprints. Spelling external parts, rather than the entire body, clearly defined the sorcerer's power. If he'd been able to push power through the trolls internally and externally, we wouldn't have found the dead and injured trolls.

He'd still had to place this spell on eight trolls. It wasn't practical for the spell to have been set on the trolls at the preserve. It was far more likely the truck and people nabbing the trolls had been spelled, and the trolls hadn't been spelled until they were delivered to—to wherever.

"Anything else we need to do?" Jones was even cheerful around bodies.

"Yup. Get out of here before I hurl." I grabbed the tray, rushing into the room where we'd suited up. Taking just enough time to set the tray on a table, I yanked everything off, shoving it in the appropriate bins. The nose clip was the only thing removed gently.

Jones undressed a bit more slowly while I carefully packed everything into a big wooden box filled with Styrofoam peanuts. This box was different from the other one, being designed to contain anything once locked. The peanuts should keep anything from breaking, but if something happened, the box wouldn't let the nasty out.

"Where do you want to eat?"

"Somewhere with a good salad." Just thinking of meat made bile rise up in my throat.

"I know a place," Jones said.

"Let's go."

We stored the boxes in the backseat of his car. It was only a couple of blocks to this small coffee shop with a deli attached. I got a Greek salad and sat in the coffee section; the meat smell near the deli reminded me of the troll. Jones plopped a giant meatball sub on the table, proving his cast-iron stomach and unshakeable demeanor.

I pushed the thoughts of what I'd just seen out of my head. I was hungry and needed to eat. Magic required energy, something I was lacking lately.

"Oaks?"

Apparently, I'd missed something while I'd been trying not to think about, well, you know. "What?"

"You have a plan. Don't deny it."

"Not gonna."

"But you're not going to tell me either."

"It's a stupid plan, or set of plans."

"It can't be all that bad."

I didn't answer. I had several plans, but they were bad. All my plans had flaws I couldn't fix, and the possibility of very bad things happening to me or someone else.

"Well?" he prodded.

"This isn't the place." I pinned him with my gaze, just long enough for him to see my serious face. "Did you find anyone buying a lot of meat?" I'd asked him to look for people buying excessive quantities of meat. The trolls had to be eating something, and it wasn't people.

"I'd forgotten about that. More meat's being purchased since the explosion, but they're spreading it out. No one person has been buying all of it at one place. We've got it narrowed down to two or three people. They're under surveillance, but we don't have enough to bring them in for questioning. Just buying meat isn't suspicious; they could be stocking up for the apocalypse."

"Still useful." He raised an eyebrow. "Well, not at the moment, but you never know what else we'll find."

He nodded as I dug back into my salad, pathetically grateful it didn't remind me of anything nasty I'd done. I looked at my food so he wouldn't see how concerned I was. It wasn't just the sorcerer bothering me. Something had given him power. Something evil. Evil things don't just let you kill their minions, they send other things after you, get new and better minions, or move on to a different aspect of their plan. I might be able to take care of this sorcerer, or sorceress, but most truly evil entities had plans upon plans. They had a long time to plan between attempts; not many people wanted to make a deal with evil.

"Do you have any old elves, dwarves, or vampires on staff?" Age mattered.

"A few."

"Could I talk to them?"

"I might be able to arrange it, but I'd need to know why so I could clear it with the lieutenants."

"I want to know if they've seen anything like this before. The types of things that would give someone power often repeat actions. It's a long shot, but it can't hurt to ask." By the end I was pleading. I wanted knowledge, something to help me plan.

"I can do that, but you'll have to talk to them at the end of their shifts. You might be able to catch one or two if we go back now."

"Sure. I'll take the rest of my salad back." I'd gotten my food boxed in case I couldn't eat much.

Back at the office, I settled in with my salad and a book. A few officers were willing to talk to me, but it was anyone's guess when they'd be back. I was using the time to review spells. The next spells I needed to do were not ones I'd performed before. No one wants to have evil essence around, even for educational purposes. Before long, my salad was a memory, and I was lost in the book.

"Miss Oaks?" A quiet voice intruded on my reading.

"Yes?" I looked up to see a muscular elf with golden hair and chiseled features.

"I am Ian. You wanted to speak with someone who might remember similar events."

"Nice to meet you, Ian. Please, sit down." I'd hurt my neck if I had to look up at him. "Are you off duty?"

"Yes."

"I'll try not to keep you long. Have you encountered any sorcerers?"

"Not directly."

"What contact did you have?" Elves could be tedious.

"Years ago there was one who wanted to use trolls, but the trolls were not ones to follow directions. Not being handy with magic, they made awkward conduits, with difficulties following directions and a sensitivity to sunlight. Ultimately, the trolls spent more time fighting among themselves than they did fighting for anyone else. Their actions were a large contributor to their eventual confinement in the preserves." Every word was carefully picked, precisely spoken.

"Who or what was behind the plot?"

"I doubt anyone ever knew. I didn't."

Elves were hard to read, but I'd been practicing lately and knew there was more to the story if he was willing to share. "Can you tell me anything helpful?"

"What have you told Carls?"

It was never good when they deflected; he hadn't liked the way I'd phrased the question. "Nothing."

"Be careful. Nothing good occurs when trolls are involved." He stood up. "If there is nothing else, I will be going now."

"Thank you for the information."

"I hope to be more helpful next time."

I bowed my head as he left. I doubted I'd get better information, but it was nice to know that I'd been right about something. Not that it helped much. Knowing an evil entity had stirred up trolls previously was useful, but only if I knew enough to look for the host. With no idea who'd been behind the original plot, I wasn't any better prepared than I'd been before.

After four interviews, Ian was the only one to contribute something useful. Talking to the dwarf Carlow had been a waste of time. I hadn't learned anything helpful, I was exhausted, and my energy hadn't bounced back.

"Jones," I called. "I need a ride to the hotel."

He rolled in from his desk. "I've got two more for you. Durin and his partner, Adolf, can drive you to the hotel while you talk to them."

"Great. What's their story?" And why couldn't they have shown up in the past three hours?

"They're vampires. They don't have a lot of time before they go on duty. This is gonna be the best chance you get to talk to them unless you want to wait until they get off at four." He sounded offended. I couldn't blame him since he'd been working really hard to arrange these meetings.

"Sorry. I'm tired. I'll be nice, though. I want their help."

"Good. Now get. They'll pick you up outside." He tossed my bag to me, and I waved as I walked out.

It was cold; the temperature had dropped since dark. I shivered a bit in my light coat. I hadn't been thinking when I'd grabbed clothes this morning or I would have dressed in warm layers.

One marked car rolled into the parking lot, pulling up in front of me. A window rolled down, and someone from the inside asked, "Are you Oaks?"

Wanting to see who I was addressing, I conjured a small witch light near the window. The sandy-haired guy in the driver's seat grimaced, flashing fangs. "I'm Oaks. You are?"

"Durin and Adolf." He motioned to the guy next to him, who waved at me around Durin.

"Just wanted to be sure. Can you let me in?" Adolf whisked out of the passenger side, rounding the car to open the door. "Thanks."

Knowing I didn't have much time, I got straight to the point. "I was told you might know something about the current situation, something from years ago." I didn't know how long ago. The elf hadn't said.

"When things went south, the plot dispersed. The power abandoned the rogue trolls and returned to hiding," Adolf replied. Apparently, he was the more personable of the two.

"What power?"

"Child, if anyone knew who or what had been behind the disturbance, it would have been hunted down a long time ago." Weariness laced his voice.

"How long ago?"

"Much longer than you have been alive. Perhaps longer than your parents have lived."

"Do you not remember?"

Durin picked up this question. "When you've lived as long as we have, you stop remembering specific dates. Sequences become more important, and some portions of those sequences you can put dates to and estimate the rest. We do not remember, and the exact time wouldn't help you." He pulled the car to a stop outside the hotel.

"My thanks. And apologies if I've offended you."

Adolf laughed and Durin smiled. Adolf swept open the door for me. "If you'd offended us, we wouldn't have answered." He was back in the car and was driving away before I knew what to say. Vampires…

Chapter 23: Michelle

Morning came quickly. The night hadn't been as restful as I'd wanted. Instead, it had been filled with bad dreams, tossing, and turning. In my dreams, I'd seen flames burning a house. There was a trail of silver hair leading to a man. A book flashed before my eyes, before a wolf's growl morphed into my alarm.

A quick shower cleared my head, and I felt normal by the time I pulled on clothes. A good cup of tea would finish pushing the dreams away. I was still low on energy. With a sigh, I picked up my phone. Calling Jones was self-defense this morning; I didn't want another wake-up visit.

"What?" He answered right away, voice still husky.

"It's Oaks."

"What do you want?" Nope, not very awake.

"A ride in twenty minutes. I'll be done with breakfast and ready to work."

"I'll be there after I have coffee." He hung up.

I picked up my purse and headed down to the hotel's mediocre breakfast. It got bonus points for having real food: eggs, fruit, muffins, juice, bacon, and small waffles. None of it was the best, some rubbery, some just odd. It was average for breakfast, but good for a hotel breakfast, which was an achievement.

When I checked my phone, I had a missed call from Andrew. He had left a message saying he wanted to get together and was sorry we hadn't been able to connect. He hoped I would get in touch with him soon, as he was free this weekend. With a sigh, I shoved my phone to the edge of the table. I didn't have time for a date until the troll situation was under control.

By the time my phone buzzed, announcing Jones's arrival, I'd finished eating and had a list of things to do with the essence. There was a limited supply of essence, so we needed to prioritize the list. I drew a line through two lengthy spells. We needed to act quickly. The essence wouldn't keep well, and Carls couldn't be kept in the dark forever.

I slipped into the car. "Good morning."

He grunted, taking a big swig from the quart-sized coffee cup. He didn't say anything the rest of the way to the office. For a normally cheerful guy, he was moody. I studied his bloodshot eyes, realizing he hadn't slept any better than I had.

In the workroom, he rinsed out the mug and leaned back against the counter, pinning me with a stare. "This needs to end."

"Agreed." I didn't want him to preach at me.

"Do you have a plan?" He sneered.

"Several actually. No need to get nasty." This was not the Jones I'd worked with for months. "What's wrong?"

"Dreams. Nasty dreams." Just saying it was bringing back bad memories. His eyes had widened, his breathing accelerated.

Snapping my finger I called, "Hey!" He shuddered, looking around as if unsure of his location. "I've got a few ideas. Let me check the samples, and I'll see what I can do."

I scurried over to the samples, seeing the cloth that had been spelled to absorb the essence was bright purple. I had four samples, two small and two large, to work with. It wasn't much, but it was enough to do the top three spells on the list. Maybe more if things went well.

I plopped down at the table, waiting for him to join me. He was slow, like molasses, but eventually he oozed over. I asked, "What's the priority?"

"Trolls, I guess, but the sorcerer isn't far behind." He shrugged. "We need to catch everyone."

"I can work with that. The map"—I motioned to our right where my masterful combination of spells was sitting, unused—"isn't working because it can't trace the parts of the trolls covered in the spells. It's only seeing the bits and pieces of them not affected by the spell. That's why the dots move strangely and don't have trolls at them. The troll is spelled, but the troll's sweat, excrement, and dead hair wouldn't be spelled. I can fix the spell so it will track them now."

"We don't have the manpower to do full assaults on every place they're staying. Even if we did, it would take forever and tip off the entire organization." Now he sounded depressed.

"True, but what if I could call the trolls and the sorcerer here?" I wasn't sure it would work, but I was willing to take a chance.

He straightened and honed in on the here and now for the first time today. "Could you? That would tie up most of the loose ends. I might not get fired for lying to Carls."

"I think so." Great. Now if I disappointed him, I'd feel horrible. "But we're going to need some help."

"What kind of help?"

"Here's what we do." I outlined a plan. A crazy, risky plan, requiring timing, guts, and an extra big helping of luck. I hadn't been lucky lately.

*******

I carefully removed the sorcerer-essence-soaked cloths from the vials, using oak tweezers to transfer all of them into one glass jar. I needed all the essence for these spells. If I messed up, we'd need to gather more before we did anything else.

We'd decided to put all our eggs in one basket. I wasn't going to judge how strong the sorcerer was, locate him, or call people associated with him. I didn't have enough essence prepared to do those spells. I could harvest more from the troll, but it would be fifteen hours before I could use it, and we were running out of time. The trolls and sorcerer couldn't stay on the loose, plotting their next move, wearing us down. Those spells would have helped, but I was going to use one spell and hope to catch them.

If it worked, it would be a thing of beauty, and if not, I'd be lucky to leave in one body bag. High-risk, high-reward plans were tricky. You won or lost it all. I didn't want to lose an arm, leg, or head.

One of the dangers was the sorcerer. There was a good chance he'd know when I snapped the spells into place. Rather than slowly building the spells and weaving them into one, I needed to build every piece before quickly assembling them. In this case, it was a woefully inefficient method of spell building, but it was the only way to catch the sorcerer unaware.

The preparations were slow. Normally, I'd build the spell in my head and tie it to a physical object and runes. For these spells, I would be using runes drawn on holly, oak, and maple wood strips. It wasn't as fast, but it was safer than using my personal power and allowed me to do most of the work ahead of time. Doing everything but joining the parts of the spell into a whole would allow me to assemble everything quickly.

A big fear of mine was botching a spell. It might look like I was wasting time, but writing the spells gave me a chance to check them. I didn't want mistakes when I had to put half a dozen spells in action as quickly as possible.

As I worked, my mind traveled back to my home. Landa had said she'd take care of the flower, but if she hadn't, I was going to beat that elf until he fixed my bathroom. I wasn't going to worry about that Narzel-farted piece of trash trying to eat me every time I showered. If we were going to live in the same building, he was going to leave me alone.

Not that I was sure how to set up a truce. I couldn't curse him to behave. My mom would tan my butt if she knew I'd cursed someone. I'd rather face the elf every day than see her mad at me. Come to think of it, if she knew what I was about to do, she'd chain me to a chair. I wasn't sure what my dad would do to me. He hadn't been around long enough for me to know his moods. One thing was for sure, after he heard about this, he'd give me a lecture. He had been very clear on one point: he was in my life now, and he wasn't leaving.

"Oaks?" Jones rapped the table next to me.

Jerking around I looked at him. "What?"

The corner of his mouth crooked up. "It's lunchtime. If I leave you alone much longer, you'll forget to eat."

"Oh." I swiveled my wrist around, looking at my watch.

"What do you want for lunch?"

"I don't know. Could you just bring my usual sub back here?" I had enough to do without a food run. Jones had been doing his job. Everything I'd needed was at hand, prepared, and he was finding a solution for anything we didn't have. Jones was coordinating with the rest of the department when he wasn't assisting me.

"Sure, I'll be back in twenty."

"Thanks." I turned back to continue my list.

"Hey, um." He sounded uncharacteristically hesitant. "Sorry about this morning. I don't know what got in to me."

"Don't worry about it. Yesterday was enough to shake anyone. I didn't sleep well either." My brow scrunched, and my mouth pinched. "I don't want you to lose your job. If you need to tattle on me, I understand." I smiled enough for him to see I was half teasing.

"I'll work it out. Besides, I'm still counting on your crazy plan." He wagged a finger at me. "It better work."

"Yes, sir." We were both smiling as he left.

I returned to my paper, surprised at the progress I'd made. Looking over the pages, I went through each piece of the spell, making notes and changing runes. I had three pages of runes to draw.

It was easy to think of willing spells into being, but that wasn't the way things usually went. Runes were more efficient; they required less energy, focus, and will from the caster. Witches didn't use runes because it was fun to learn a language but for their benefits.

Bags crinkled behind me. "Food's here." Jones set my bag of food down in front of me.

"Thanks. That was fast." He'd hardly been gone.

He grinned. "You must've been in the zone. It's been twenty minutes."

"Wow. I didn't have a clue."

We didn't talk over lunch; I had plenty to think about. It wasn't like me to lose track of time like this. It wasn't like me to take a pinch of herbs to help me sleep and be restless all night. Jones didn't usually have problems with the job. He'd stuck his neck out for me before without worry. We'd done some dangerous, stupid, and stupidly dangerous things, but not a one of them had given him the edge I'd seen today.

If I didn't know better, I'd say we'd been spelled.

The thought reverberated. Why would I know better? Most people could be spelled, including witches and hedge-practitioners. Spelling a person was a matter of power and preparation. Even dragons could be spelled. No one did; the fear of being hunted down and eaten by that dragon, or his friends, was a great deterrent. Needing thirty people made it difficult too.

I wasn't difficult to spell. Neither was Jones. I wasn't sure how much power it would take to spell me, but Jones would require less. There wasn't a reason in the world we couldn't have been spelled, and more than a few reasons to suspect we had been.

"Jones, do you still have a purification circle set up?"

He scrunched his eyes, trying to determine my thoughts. "I think so. Why?"

"We may have been spelled when we tested the troll. No," I said before he could start. "I know what you're thinking, but it makes sense. A reactionary spell could've been placed on the trolls along with the masking spell."

"Are you sure?"

"No."

"Then why do you think we've been spelled?"

"Neither of us normally acts like this. The job seldom worries you. I've never taken herbs to aid my sleep and still been restless. You are always cheerful, hardly ever moody, and never the depressed grump I've been working with today."

"True." He considered, drumming his fingers on the table. "Will the sorcerer know if you remove the spell?"

"I doubt it. If it's reactionary, it would be impossible to monitor. If he'd cast it on us in person, it would be a different story. I don't think it's a compulsion, more of a fear enhancement, something to disrupt our lives." Besides, if we didn't remove it, we wouldn't know how much the spell had affected us.

"I guess we should get on that. You finished?" He balled up his sandwich wrappings and tossed them into the trash.

"Yup, let's get this done. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can wrap up the rest of this junk."

Jones hauled a piece of veneered plywood off the wall. It was a special chunk of wood, with pure oak covering one side. Essential oils mixed with a dye had been used to paint the protective circle on the paneling. I pulled the oils out before sitting next to the panel. Using the blessed brush, I reapplied the oils, carefully tracing the lines.

I finished and motioned to Jones. "In you go. It'll be easier for you to activate the spells for me if a little power is left in them."

Once he was inside, I slowly pushed my power through the oiled lines, activating the spell. A faint glow radiated up from the wood, encapsulating him while it stripped off foreign spells. The cleansing swept over him in pearly lines, bathing him in a lovely glow. A faint sparkle evened out over him, signifying a successful cleansing. The glow from the wood slowly abated. He carefully stepped over the shimmering lines, a subtle glow clinging to his aura.

Huffing out a relieved breath, a smile hovered over his lips. "I didn't realize how worried I was. It pulled something off."

"Good. My turn." I moved onto the spot he'd just occupied, ready to feel the power wash over me.

The feeling from the inside wasn't like the outside view. Sure, you could see the light, but seeing was the least of the experience. I closed my eyes as the lightest touch of sunlight and rainbows flowed around me, leaving peace and joy behind. By the time it was done, I'd been washed clean of anything but the most positive energy and could feel the spell burning off my aura. For a moment, I was angry that a nasty spell like that had been cast on me, but unable to focus on something so petty, I basked in the little glimpse of heaven.

The feeling abated as the cleansing completed. Oh, I still felt light, joyous, and serene, but it didn't overwhelm everything else. When the glow of power faded away, I returned to the room.

I had a lot of respect for the witches who'd created this. It wouldn't remove every harmful or negative spell, but it was a beautiful piece of craft. The witch who'd invented and constructed this deserved every penny of its large price tag. Few spells of this kind were as simple to use.

"You look like a giddy school girl."

"What? Oh, sorry." I smoothed out my shirt, trying to regain composure.

"It's fine. It feels damn spectacular." He grinned, the look I was used to seeing on his face, where his eyes crinkled and his dimples appeared. "Did you feel anything other than the cleansing? I didn't."

"It wasn't much of a spell, just a fear and confusion web. It felt crude, and it burned off quickly." I would've been scared if the sorcerer had managed to place a complex reactive compulsion on the trolls along with the other spells. This was more on par with the power level I'd felt from the previous spells.

"Is that good news or bad news?"

"I hope it's good news." It was about time for good news.

"Do you want to work on the parking lot? I've already had a rookie fix the lights."

"Good. Is everything prepared?" Jones nodded. "Let's go do it." I plucked sheets of runes and drawings off the table.

As we were walking out, he casually mentioned, "I wanted to tell you over lunch, but I forgot. Carls took a vacation day. He left written"—he wagged his eyebrows—"orders that he wasn't to be disturbed for any reason. Chief Deputy Hammer is taking care of those other pesky details for us."

"Really?" Suppressing snickers, I spit out, "We're in luck."

"Yup. All we have to do is get this done on time."

"Then we need to hurry." I picked up the pace.

One of the benefits of never relying on luck was that when it did grace you with its presence you were properly thankful. I had a backup plan in case luck was fickle. Carls being out of contact was perfect, but if we didn't get the timing right, it wouldn't matter.

In the parking lot, we spread out the supplies. It wasn't an elegant plan, but it should do the trick. The difficult part of trapping most sorcerers was their intelligence. Somehow they missed the normal bell-curve distribution of intellect. They were always on the upper end. My theory was only the smart ones survived summoning and bargaining with an evil spirit without accidentally feeding themselves to the demon. Making bargains with evil critters had a built-in weeding-out process; the stupid ones were food.

The real problem with their intelligence was their annoying ability to predict what someone would do to catch them, and they had a sixth sense about traps. You seldom read stories where the evil sorcerer walks into the trap, screaming "No!" as he's contained or killed. Nope. The heroes (why were there so seldom heroines?) were tricked by their own trick, had to fight an epic battle and wait for the fatal error before they could capture the bad guy (or girl; there was a surplus of bad girls in fables).

I had a plan, which statistics showed put me in mortal peril, and I wanted the bad guy, or guys, to walk right into a trap. At this point, the odds were in favor of me being the stupid person before the real hero shows up. I didn't want to be that girl—you know… the dead one.

Chapter 24: Elron

"I want to leave it."

"You can't. I told Michelle you would fix her bathroom." Landa glared up at me.

"I'll tell her I couldn't."

Her eyes narrowed. "That would be a lie, and elves don't lie."

My answer was quiet, serious. "Are you sure I'm lying?"

She squirmed, not wanting to answer. "No."

"Then it isn't a lie."

"But I'm fairly sure I can bully you in to doing something about the flower. Did you know the flower would grow?"

I blew out a sigh. "No. I've never seen one do that. I want to ask her what she did and try to culture the darn thing. I'd also like to torment her a bit."

"Fine." She sneered before stalking off, but I knew it was mostly for show. "But don't expect me to defend you!"

"Would never dream of it," I muttered as I retreated to my room, sad that I'd upset her. She was one of the few true friends I still had. Being a hermit for hundreds of years tended to reduce the number of people who considered you a friend, even among the long-lived races.

If she'd let me in the bathroom, I'd have been able to work on the flower without Michelle being here, but Michelle didn't want me in her room. Landa told Michelle she'd fix it, but when she hadn't been able to, she'd asked me. Something about the satyr had set the two of them off. No uninvited guests in Michelle's room for any reason. If she wasn't there to invite them, she didn't want them in her room. Landa wasn't budging on that point.

I'd intended it as a gift, a simple gesture of kindness and understanding. Wanting to apologize for needling her at every turn, I'd done the only thing I knew to do: give a simple gift. Something that would show my caring if my words couldn't.

A simple offering had morphed into a sea of contention. My simple gift shouldn't have taken over her bathroom. It was a cut flower, nothing more. Growing hadn't been anticipated. Sheer arrogance on my part, the belief that everything was predictable after all this time. How wrong I'd been.

I would fix things… somehow.

Sliding open a window, I tossed my legs over the wall. The night air embraced me, steadied me. The lodge was the first place to quiet the yearning in my soul. For years, I'd felt the need to do more with my life. It was the Call: a force pushing me to find my place in the world. Some elves considered it a dance with death, as the Called often lived dangerous lives. Other elves never found what called them.

Elves who found their calling were people of history. Those who were still alive were honored, the deceased remembered in stories. I was never sure if I admired them or not. It wasn't the easy, peaceful life I'd dreamed of, but it was a life spent on things bigger than myself.

When I first heard the Call, a nagging feeling that I was needed in the world, I tried to ignore the urge. Hoping it would fade, I pretended to be happy, but the longer I clung to my stable life, the more forceful the Call felt. Before long, I knew I had to act. Preparing to join the modern world had given me a measure of relief, as the Call faded when I was on the correct path. Knowing something, or someone, was calling me wasn't as shocking as finding it in the first place I looked.

I'd never pictured my life any way but with my wife. The dreams of our life died with her. With this new dream, I wasn't sure if I was excited or afraid. This had never been my dream, not that anyone dreamed of being called.

The woods whispered, reminding me of the many paths life could take. I was choosing to follow the Call, and it wanted me at the lodge. I wasn't sure what was pulling me to this place; events, people, or both, but I would find out.

I'd talked to an elven hero before. I'd tried to behave like he was normal, like any other elf. At the time, I'd thought he didn't get much of that; later he thanked me. For many years, I'd been proud that I'd refrained from pestering him with questions. Now, I found myself wishing I'd asked questions about how he'd felt when he was called. Did he live differently, knowing there was adventure ahead?

Shaking my head, I dismissed the thoughts. I'd taken a long road to recovery, but I was recovered. Wasting the rest of my life wishing for my wife wouldn't bring her back. I needed to let her rest. She was gone. She'd have wanted me to be happy, but I wasn't following the Call for her. I was doing it for me.

In the grove where Michelle prayed, she had invigorated the trees. I would find a way into her good graces. I wanted to see the side of her that had invigorated these plants. "Keep her safe," I whispered.

Stars twinkled down at me, as mysterious as ever. Trees creaked and moaned in the wind. Sounds of home, of years spent with nature, slowed my troubled thoughts. Hours later, when I lay in bed, it was with the window open, allowing nature's lullaby to sing me to sleep.

Chapter 25: Michelle

"Done!" I exclaimed, pushing myself off the pavement. "How are we doing on time?"

Jones twisted the corner of his mouth up. "Eh, not great. This took a bit longer than we'd planned."

"Darn. Can you clean this up while I start on the next project?" We'd trashed the area.

"Sure. It looks worse than it is. I'll catch up with you soon."

"Thanks."

I jogged back to the magic workroom. I still had to write all the runes on blessed wood. I dumped a stack of valuable books on a chair, pulled over the wood, ink, and plans. Luckily, Jones could help me with this, because I'd never have time to finish if I was working on my own. It took us nearly an hour to write out the runes on glorified paint stirrers. Silly, but that's what they'd always looked like to me.

Reluctantly, I took a break, gulping down energy-boosting tea and munching down a granola bar. Jones opted for a donut. I may have been a natural, healthy-food person, but Jones liked his junk food.

We didn't talk, focusing on the hours ahead. It was going to be hectic. Several little things needed to happen in exactly the right order. We'd planned it out, but plans seldom lasted past the first engagement. I shuddered to think what would happen if we failed.

Jerking my mind away from negative thoughts, I questioned Jones, "How long until the spells need to be up?"

"Not long now, but you have a few minutes before you need to start casting." He bit down on another donut, chocolate-covered this time.

"Are you worried?"

"No." His voice was steady.

"Why not?" I was starting to shake in my boots.

"Because you're more likely to make a mistake, miscalculate, or mess up when you're nervous. Give your nerves the mental equivalent of a Valium. Pretend they can't affect you and that nothing can go wrong. Thinking positive helps." He slurped down a calming tea.

Eyeing my energizing tea, I wasn't sure another was the best idea. This would be my fourth, and it might make me jittery. On the other hand, jittery was better than tired. I took a drink. "Any other sage advice?"

"Yeah. Don't mess up." He picked up a box before leaving the room.

"Thanks a lot!" I yelled after him, chuckling under my breath.

The laughter made me realize I wasn't as scared anymore. Narzel fart; I hated it when he was right. Still smiling, I picked up a box, following him outside.

Tonight was warmer than expected, for which I was grateful. I didn't want to face the bitter cold while performing complex magic. The cold might amplify the spells, but it wouldn't do me any good.

Jones and I enlisted the help of two other officers to bring out the heavy table holding the map. Another officer cleared the halls and opened the doors. Setting it down under the lights was surreal. I'd been preparing myself for this moment all day but hadn't thought about what it would be like. The reality of what I was doing hit me. A sorcerer and trolls were coming, and I was on the front line.

"Michelle!"

"Sorry, Jones. What do you need?"

"It's time to start."

"Oh."

It wasn't dark yet, but it would be soon. Ideally, I'd finish casting as the sun set, giving us the maximum time to take care of everything. I didn't want to finish the spell any earlier since trolls turned to stone in sun. We didn't want to be playing hide-and-seek with stoned trolls; they needed to be gathered up and sent back to the preserve.

I breathed in, out, and in again, steadying myself. For a moment my heart stopped racing, my respiration returned to normal, and I could focus. Before the clarity left, I grabbed the first stick, drew the last part of a symbol, and sent a tingle of magic through it before placing it on the perimeter of the map. Focusing all my attention on the task at hand, I pushed my doubts aside. I repeated the procedure with the second stick and connected it to the first one.

I continued through the parts of the spell, finishing them, pulsing power through the runes, and weaving them through each other and the map. More slowly than I liked, they became part of the map, changing the spell. Each added section tied new magic to the previous spells. It was slow to build, but two-thirds of the way through, the spell started to brush across my skin, tasting me, telling me what it wanted.

Another witch had once asked me why I was so determined to practice magic when I couldn't get a job with a firm. I'd told her nothing compared to power flowing through you, over you, around you. It was alluring, sensual as it wound through my hair, cuddled with my skin. It wanted me to swirl the power, to tickle it with light and sound, and it sang to me of spells long lost. She'd looked so confused; I had to ask how magic felt to her. Hard work was all she'd said. I'd tucked away my feelings and agreed it was difficult.

Simple spells were light and fun, like a good joke. This spell was as simple as a symphony, and as splendid.

After adding the last runes, I swirled power through the old spells, ensuring they merged with the new spells. The entire castle of spells flexed with the added power, my sign to retreat and hope it worked. Watching the spells bend and move was captivating. One moment they were crawling over each other, looking for structure, and the next they had formed a fortress of magic, seeking targets, calling them home.

Disconnecting myself from all but the faintest touch of the spell was difficult. It felt so good. But I'd never finish the rest of the preparations if I let myself bask in the power. Blinking, I realized it had fallen dark while I'd been casting.

"Jones?"

"Right behind you." He walked around to my left. "How'd it go?"

"Good, really good."

"I can tell. You're glowing."

I thought he was joking until I glanced at my hand. I had to look like a giant firefly. "Narzel fart."

He laughed. "Don't worry about it. It's kinda cute. Besides, those boys"—he jerked his head to indicate the younger cops—"aren't ever going to forget this power show."

"Power show?" I asked.

Jones nodded. "Everyone could see the energy, the power weaving. And—it clung to you."

I groaned. Half the people here would be terrified of me, the other half enchanted. I much preferred being ignored, but no good deed goes unpunished. "Can we finish up?"

"You wanted the lights gone and barricades around this pavilion?"

"Yup. I'll take the lights in." I scooped up one, making a hasty retreat.

"Slacker!" he yelled.

I giggled all the way in, stress making me a tad hysterical. On the way back, I detoured to the bathroom, overcome by the nervous need to pee. I returned to see a three-sided box of orange highway barricades protecting the pavilion. They formed a solid-looking barrier, but I'd thought they were too heavy to move by hand.

Spying Jones near the map, I dodged cops carrying cinderblocks to get within speaking distance. "How did you get those things here? I thought they weighed a ton."

"We had them around the back. They do when they're filled with water or sand, but these are mostly empty. Two guys can carry them. I had them stacked nearby while you worked."

"Ah, I feel silly. Will they stop the trolls?"

"I doubt it, but it'll look intimidating. I've got them bracing the joints with cinderblocks, but that's all we can do with the materials on hand."

"Michelle, look at this. I think you may need to prepare for the next step," Jones said.

"What?"

He pointed to the map.

I leaned over, seeing the dots had refined to fifteen or so, all moving in this direction. Tying the taste of the sorcerer to the spell had helped refine the parameters, letting the spell find the trolls and anyone tainted by the sorcerer's power. The calling spell should deliver all of them to us.

"The sorcerer has to feel that. We've got to clear this place out." No self-respecting sorcerer would march up to a police station with twenty people outside.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

He herded everyone away, like we'd planned. Watching them leave, I noticed how alone I was in this dark parking lot. Removing most of the lights had been the smart decision, but the empty parking lot was eerie.

Jones and I had discussed this part of the plan in great detail. We didn't have a good way to know when the sorcerer would come. I'd told him the sorcerer would confront me, but I couldn't guarantee it. At first, we thought the sorcerer would follow the trolls, but that was a tame, passive action. After some consideration, I'd decided he'd use the trolls as an army, trying to capture or kill people, including me. With that in mind, we'd altered the plan, and I was praying this worked because I didn't want to be dinner.

The police station was empty, because the trolls would walk in if I summoned them, but the sorcerer wouldn't. An intelligent sorcerer would do anything to stay away from a building of police, so we'd emptied the building. Sirens had been sounding all over the city for fake emergencies, forming a ring around this area. Using the cameras outside the building, they were going to monitor the fight and come to my rescue. That was the plan, anyway.

I stood alone while the minutes ticked by. Wand strapped to my right hip, a few packets of herbs, seeds, and oils in a belt around my waist, I let the breeze wash over me while I gazed at the stars. It was a beautiful night, starry, crisp, but not frigid, and with the faint smell of spring. Behind me was a dark, empty brick building. The empty parking lot stretched before me, street lamps illuminating the far end. It was just me and whatever was headed this way.

Chapter 26: Michelle

Something was here. My eyes roamed the ground, trying to find the catalyst for the change. A shadow moved near the lights. Tensing, my hand crept down my leg. The shadow solidified, and a scrawny black cat trotted across the last parking space and out of the lot.

Breathing deeply, I relaxed, releasing the grip on my wand. False alarm, it was nothing but a false alarm.

"Fancy seeing you here."

Jumping, I jerked around to my right. She wasn't as close as her voice sounded, a simple trick. The woman was at the end of the parking lot. I relaxed, but still palmed my wand. She was shadowed. I couldn't see who she was, but I knew that voice. I'd heard it before. "Who were you expecting?"

"Someone… powerful." Her voice shivered in the air.

"I'm not?"

"Well, we've met before, and you didn't think anything of me." She slowly moved closer.

I stepped to my left. "Can't see what you don't look for."

"Yes. How silly of you, knowing there was someone with magic around but not searching for them."

"I think you're a bit misinformed. I only recently learned that I should be looking for a sorceress." If only I could remember where I'd heard that voice.

"That just makes you silly. I'd never be so foolish." She giggled.

The giggle told me she was young; only young girls giggled that way. The only girls I'd seen recently had been at the chicken farm. She had to be from the group of kids keeping the troll at the chicken farm. Which one didn't really matter. "How have I been foolish?"

"You called all of us to you—while you're alone." She paused her forward progress. I needed her to keep moving. "I didn't come alone. I know better than that. Boys, kill her."

"Of course not. You'd never have been that silly." I muttered as I scanned the area for her boys. Six big shapes loomed up around the edge of the parking lot, arranged to herd me against the police station. At least all the trolls were here.

"What was that? I want to hear everything you say."

"Your mother was a newt, and your father disowned you!" What did she think I was going to say, "Please kill me?"

"You witch!" she shrieked.

"Thank you." The trolls had continued to advance, but she hadn't. I moved back, suddenly unsure of the wisdom of this plan. Being someone's dinner was really low on my list of ways to die.

One of the trolls to my left, the closest one, stepped forward, drooling as he eyed me. My heart beat faster. Nope, I didn't want him to eat me, especially while I was alive (being killed by a troll was bad enough, but I didn't want to know it was snacking on me). The troll shambled forward. Jerking the wand up, I pointed at the ground, forcing power into the circle we'd constructed earlier. It sprang to life around him, imprisoning him inside.

I darted closer to the now-imprisoned troll as the sorceress screeched with rage.

Her yowl served as a rallying call; the trolls lumbered forward.

Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted another troll near a circle. Another rush of power, and I captured him near the edge of the parking lot.

"Stop," she commanded, still at the end of the parking lot. It was nice to know she was controlling them. If she was unconscious or dead, they might leave me alone. "You booby-trapped the parking lot?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"You didn't actually think I was stupid enough to stand here without a plan, did you?" From the silence and stance, I could tell she had. "I think you're too stupid to be a sorceress. Where's the real one?" I could hear her teeth grind, sending shivers up my spine. Even in this cold, I was sweating, and I had a sudden need to pee.

She stopped destroying her teeth long enough to repeat her previous command, "Kill her. Syed will get you."

In stories, Syed was known for eating children and killing pets, but she wasn't the problem right now. Watching the trolls advance, more slowly, I knew this was a stupid plan. All I had on my side was speed and a few spells. I couldn't fight. I had reinforcements, but they weren't here yet.

I activated another circle, missing the troll, who'd stepped to the left. Narzel's eye. I only had two spare circles now. I raised my right arm, my wand arm, to wipe the sweat off my face.

Something—something human, from the lack of odor and small size—hit me from the side, knocking me on the pavement. The breath whooshed out of my lungs, not returning for precious seconds. Before I could breathe again, I was scrambling up, trying to get away from whoever had tackled me. The trolls picked up the pace, closing the distance. A hand gripped my ankle, nearly pitching me back to the pavement. Frantically, I kicked back, connecting with something hard enough to loosen his grip.

I gasped in a few desperate breaths before I took off, trying to ignore my aching ribs and wobbly ankle. With the extra guy, I was down to one spare circle. Spreading out my senses, I could feel the barest tingle from circles Jones and I had carefully drawn. I ran through a circle as a troll charged up behind me. Throwing a hand out behind me, I shoved power through the thread, capturing another troll, realizing I'd lost my wand in the struggle. It took more focus to channel power without the wand, and I didn't have focus to spare.

There were three trolls, one human, and the sorceress left. If nothing changed, I had a spare circle, but I couldn't afford to miss. Rounding the edge of where we'd glued the circles, I eyed the mass of people trying to circle me. I'd managed to get most of them behind me, with the remaining circles between us, but the sorceress was still at the edge of the parking lot. I didn't want to be any closer to her than I already was, even if it put more space between me and the trolls.

A yowl behind me had me twisting around to see another human tripping over the black cat. He stumbled to a stop, clearly not sure what he should be doing. In fact, everyone had stopped moving. Daughter of Syed indeed; I was out of circles.

"You ingrate. You can't even sneak up on her properly."

She continued to yell at him, but I'd noticed a troll standing perfectly inside a circle. Pulsing power through the thread took everyone by surprise, but mostly the troll. Using their confusion, I rolled a ball of clay and oils at the sorceress. She was too busy yelling to notice it stop an inch short of her feet. Surging power through it, I exploded the ball, coating her feet.

The charm hardened the dirt into a brick-like substance, effectively rooting her to one spot. The magic made the brick impossible to break with physical action. She'd need to unwind the spell, or overload it, to free her feet.

She blinked stupidly at her feet. "You bitch."

"I think that's a compliment coming from you." Thus far she hadn't done any spells, just name-calling. I could feel power in her, but not as much as I'd expected from the spells on the trolls. I didn't understand her strategy.

"Why are you standing there? Kill her." Her voice jumped an octave at the end.

Everyone, including me, had been standing around. It was like they were afraid to do anything without a direct command. I was standing still because I didn't want to draw attention to myself. If they were willing to let me go, I'd be gone. I was still trying to catch my breath, my chest and ankle hurt, but mostly I was furiously trying to formulate a plan than didn't get me eaten.

With her latest edict, the two remaining trolls lumbered into action, as did the humans. There was nowhere left to go but close to the sorceress. She couldn't grab me, but I'd have to chance her casting spells. Jogging closer to her made it hard to keep an eye on everyone at once. I had enemies on three sides now. I'd learned having enemies on two sides was foolish, three suicidal. I cast a wish to the goddess: please let me get out of this alive.

My current situation emphasized that this entire plan was from the don't-do handbook. Never fight a battle on more than one front, always have backup plans because no plan survives the first engagement, and don't do anything stupid. That last part was the one I'd mostly ignored. Stupid, stupid me.

Ten feet from her, I felt a change in one of the circles. Shoving energy into it, I found I'd trapped the human who'd tripped over the cat.

"At least he can't hurt anything," she muttered.

I snickered, but not quietly enough. She started casting something; I could feel the power filling the air around her. Without my wand, and more time, I couldn't cast a spell that would hold her. The best I could do was to keep her in one place, and that spell would require constant attention. The other circles had been carefully constructed to need activation but no connection to sustain them.

Not knowing what else to do, I sprinted for the edge of the parking lot behind the sorceress. Inexperienced casters, like this sorceress, needed visual contact to spell something. If I was behind her she'd have a hard time looking at me. Besides, I was running out of circles on the other side of the parking lot.

Between the deep shadow I hid in and being unable to turn, she was having a hard time focusing on me enough to cast. Something tickled my senses. It felt like the human was in a circle, so I flashed power through the dormant spell, catching air. I'd missed him by an inch, leaving one more bad guy than circles to capture them in.

Hearing shouts in the distance, I hoped the police were coming to my rescue. They should've been here by now. They owed me a damn good explanation. The plan had been for me to capture or neutralize the sorceress and some of the trolls. The police could mop up the rest of the trolls, and I could deal with the sorceress. The sorceress was neutralized, and no one had come to my rescue. I'd like to be rescued before I was eaten.

The girl got tired of trying to cast at me, turning her attention to her feet. I was studying the combatants very carefully as they made their way across the ground. I'd wasted more circles than I could afford to. If I captured one troll or human in every circle I'd be able to neutralize the last one, but I could only hold so many spells at a time, and I still needed to deal with the sorceress.

This would've been easier if I didn't have a desperate need for the bathroom, a throbbing ankle, blood pounding through my body, and a bruise covering most of my chest. Come to think of it, my face hurt too. My labored breathing and frantic thoughts clearly demonstrated how unsuited I was to this type of thing. If I got through this, I was doing exactly my job, magical backup for the police. No more stupid plans out of a misguided sense of duty and justice.

Shaking off my personal problems, I shot power into a circle a troll had walked into, reducing the combatants to two. The remaining troll and human slowed, clearly trying to figure out how their friends were being captured. Several of the caged trolls were beating at the circle or howling. Understanding magic didn't appear to be their strong point. Other than eating people, I wasn't sure they had a strong point.

The remaining troll walked into a circle, and I closed it before he could escape. Just the human and sorceress were left. I felt the spell around her feet start to crumble as she overwhelmed it with sheer power; effective, but not energy efficient. Before she was completely free, I sprinted past her, trying to lure her into a circle.

Heat singed my legs, and a concussive force sent me tumbling forward as she lobed a blast of energy at me. Wheezing, I tried to scramble backward. Pain was radiating from every inch of my body while the ringing in my ears prevented me from hearing. Syed take me, this was bad.

I could see her advancing, mouth moving as she said something I couldn't hear. Something thick dripped down my eye. Leaning on one pained arm, I swiped at it, feeling a sting as my hand moved over my eyebrow. I was bleeding. Bleeding hadn't been in the plan.

She smiled at my crumpled state as she advanced. The barest tingle brushed across my battered senses. Before I could think better of it, I shoved every bit of power I could find, a pitiful amount, at the circle around her.

I tried to smile—a split lip prevented the action—as I could see her scream in incoherent rage. It would have been a beautiful sound, if I'd been able to hear. Sitting on the pavement, I contemplated getting up but decided against it. I was as comfortable as I was going to be until the police showed up.

Taking stock of my injuries was depressing, but not horrid. Mild burns laced my calves, hurting far more than the wrenched ankle. I was covered in scrapes, bleeding from my right hand and forehead, and feeling a constricting pain across my torso from being smashed against the ground twice.

A change in the wind made me realize I'd missed something, but it was too late. I tried to make it to my feet, but my battered body couldn't move that fast. The human, his face twisted in a snarl with bloodshot, dilated eyes, hauled me up by the front of my shirt.

I'd forgotten about him. Not one of my finer moments.

His lips moved, saying something I couldn't hear, and I'd never been able to lip read. His fist pulled back. For a fraction of a second I didn't know what to do, but I puffed power near his face, forcing air into his eyes. Jerking back, he loosened his grip.

Pulling away, I tried to run. His hand grabbed the back of my shirt, throwing me off balance. I managed to scramble a few feet forward before I hit the ground, breath knocked out of me for the third time, mind swimming from the impact with pavement. My bloody hand landed on a ball of seeds that had fallen out of my belt. I tried to hold it, but my hand slipped off, leaving a trail of blood behind as I slid into darkness.

Chapter 27: The Forest Spirit

She lay, hurt and bleeding. The man, if he could still be called such, slowly advanced, wanting to make sure she was as vulnerable as she appeared. Around them the ground, an unnatural black rock, didn't show any signs of the struggles, but the eight people trapped in well-constructed circles of power were not pleased.

The sorceress was attempting to spell her way out but lacked the education, reducing her efforts to screaming. The human seemed to be the most sensible. He was sitting in the middle, unmoving. However, the trolls were the most fascinating. Two of them were beating at the shimmery barricade, despite the increasing severity of burns along their hands. One was lounging on the ground. One was inspecting the interior near the ground. He was careful to avoid touching the walls, his hands showing signs of burns. The last two were the most amusing, cycling through several behaviors. They looked around and, not seeing rescue, hit or kicked the wall, gazed at the ground as if it would give them answers, and rapidly repeated the cycle.

The man looked around furiously, his gaze settling on a rock. He turned his back on the girl to retrieve the weapon from the grass at the edge of the pavement.

The trees swayed, tugging at their roots. They wanted to aid the witch for the kindness she'd shown the forest, and for the elf who'd asked for her safety. The will of the trees reached out to help her.

Cloth unfurled next to her hand, releasing sprouted seeds. These seeds didn't sprout as a normal seed did. The mix of ivy and briars produced a few fuzzy roots that sat on top of the pavement, not seeking ground. The vines and leaves shot out of the seeds, weaving a braid as they grew. A moment passed; energy, partly fueled by blood, but mostly powered by a few overly active plants from miles away, poured into the plants encircling the prone girl. The roots wound through, around, and merged with the shoots, forming a continuous circle. A little more energy flowed into the living circle, and a pearly haze draped over them.

The man returned, walked into a barrier, and bounced back. Puzzlement showed in the tilt of his head. He reached out, wincing when his fingers encountered an invisible barrier. Looking around, he noticed the plants. He couldn't move them, or move past them. The man expelled a primal growl when he realized the plants formed a protective circle around his prey. He set to work, trying to hammer through them with his rock. He pounded, smashed, and mashed, but couldn't dent the plants. On his tenth strike, the rock shattered. Resorting to his hands, he tried to tear the vines, earning shredded skin from the briars but no progress in his hunting.

When the police and FBI arrived sometime later, they found the witch unconscious in a ring of plants. The man, hands shredded to the bone, was still trying to break the circle around the witch. Six trolls, one human, and one human sorceress were trapped in circles.

The police took charge of the two humans, taking one to the hospital, while the FBI's witches bound the sorceress's magic. The trolls were given an FBI escort to a processing center for cleansing and evidence collection before being returned to the preserve.

One man, known as Jones, cried, his tears falling on the circle. The tears of sorrow, and hope, did what anger could not. The protective circle opened, allowing him access to the witch. He cried harder when they realized she was alive. Two witches stabilized her as paramedics rushed to pick her up. Jones carried the ring of plants to a grassy spot, breaking the ground so they could root.

Chapter 28: Michelle

"Oh, good, it's you. Do you have my clothes?"

Jones looked around in confusion. "Um, I guess."

"I was told you had my clothes. Well, I was told you checked me out of the hotel and packed my stuff in my car. I want my clothes so I can go home."

"Michelle, your clothes are in the car. You're in a hospital. I don't think you should be leaving yet."

"Nonsense, I'm fine. I've been here since last night. The doctors looked at me, and the nurses woke me up every hour. My parents called to see how I was and promised to have a serious talk with me when I was better. According to the doctor, I have, at worst, a mild concussion, some scrapes, singed spots, a body full of bruises, and no reserve of power."

"I still don't think you should go home."

"Jones." I sighed. "I'm going home if I have to walk there in this stupid backless gown. Please bring me clothes."

"I'll be right back," he said.

He huffed as he walked out of the room. I wasn't sure what all the fuss was about. Other than the police and FBI being a tad late to the scene, it had worked out fine. Not that I remembered them arriving, but they had.

However, I'd learned my lesson. I wouldn't be repeating the experience anytime soon. Without a doubt, I wasn't suited to scary, life-and-death situations where my life was in peril. My job was to assist the police. Not be a hero. Most heroes died horribly and tragically at a young age. I planned to live a long, boring life.

I picked at the sheets and the lousy excuse for a robe while he was gone. I hated hospitals. They smelled bad and lacked the comforts of home. I wanted the trees and gardens around me, Landa's cooking, and even the annoying elf.

Jones tossed a duffel in, waiting outside as I slipped into real clothes. Every bit of me was stiff and scraped. The burns weren't bad, though I hadn't gotten a good explanation as to why they hadn't fully healed. Something about how only so much energy should be pulled through tissue at one time. I couldn't find a way to sit or bend without aching. I hadn't looked in a mirror, not wanting to see the scrapes on my face. Pulling my hair back into a pony tail was more difficult than expected. Socks and shoes were also difficult.

I walked out of the room with my duffel and purse in hand. I was getting out of here.

Jones followed me. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I'm fine. I want to go home."

"Let me buy you breakfast."

Looking at him, I could see the shadowed eyes, and deepened worry lines. "You were worried?"

"Go check out. I'll give you my version over breakfast."

He clearly wanted to tell me something but didn't want to do it standing in a hospital hallway. Following his suggestion, I went to check out. Thirty minutes and five hundred forms later, we were sitting at a booth at a diner, eating breakfast. It was breakfast for me, but at nine thirty it might be a morning snack for him.

"Jones, you look worse than I feel. What's wrong?" For a normally cheerful man, his aura was dark. While I waited for him to talk, I savored a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Um, smashing on the pavement." I wasn't sure I wanted to hear this.

He frowned, thinking. "The sorceress is Carrie. She was one of the girls at the chicken farm."

"Thank you. It took me a little while, but I figured out she was one of those kids."

"Not surprising. You never met her, just heard part of an interview."

"She said we'd met, but I guess she was using the term loosely," I said.

Jones nodded. "You were around her a few times, but I don't think you ever spoke."

"Good to know. What happened last night?"

"I'm getting to it." He paused to drink some coffee. "When I arrived, and I was one of the first officers there, you were laid out on the ground. A vine of ivy, briars, and a few other things had circled you. The human, Brian, tried to break the circle, first with a rock and then with his hands. When we dragged him away, he was shouting that he would kill you. Along with the FBI, we rounded everyone up."

In the middle of his monologue, I stopped eating, starting to feel sick, knowing I hadn't done anything to activate that circle. I should've been dead. I had to clear my throat twice before I could speak. "H…how long was he trying to kill me?" Jones looked at the table and muttered, but I couldn't hear it. "What?"

"Ten minutes." He kept looking out the window to my left, like I couldn't tell he was upset. "It, uh, turns out we weren't getting a direct feed. The computer geeks haven't told me what happened, but we had a five-minute lag. I thought you were dead. I was outside that circle trying to figure out how to break it when it fell on its own." He dabbed his eyes.

I took several deep breaths and then took a few more for good measure. I'd done nothing to make those plants grow or form a circle. Generally, magic didn't work that way. Not that I was going to argue. I'd never been so grateful for a quirky piece of magic.

He continued, "I planted it after they took you away. If you want, we can look at it before you leave."

I nodded, not sure what to say. I'd nearly died because I'd forgotten about an enemy. I shivered, pulled on my coat, and took a drink of my tea. "What did you do with the trolls, humans, and sorceress?"

"The feds took almost everyone. The trolls will be going back to the preserve, and we get to keep Brian. We'd also rounded up several other members of that group who were slowly making their way to you. We're holding them, but I'm not sure who's going to end up charging them."

Lapsing into silence, I forced the food down, needing to eat to restore the energy I'd spent. Feeling a little ill after learning about my close brush with death didn't change that. When it was clear I didn't have anything to say, or left to eat, Jones herded me back to the car. He'd driven me to breakfast, and I wasn't sure where to find my car. He pulled into the police station, and I could see my car a few spaces over.

"This way," he said, walking away from my car.

Following him through the same, though very clean, parking lot I'd spent such a scary night in was surreal. It looked exactly the same, but wildly different. The daylight revealed what darkness had hidden; spots, lines, gum, and every detail of the surrounding landscape. The lights were working again, emitting a faint glow. I could almost feel my body impacting the pavement.

I should have died on this ground. By the grace of the earth, I was alive, and I didn't know what saved me. With goose bumps on my arms, I knew it would be months before I could look at this place and not see last night. The images were already flashing through my mind, bringing back the fear and doubt I'd had. Night would be worse. I didn't want to be here at night; memories might take over, making me forget that I'd escaped.

He stopped at a bald patch of ground with a large ring of plants. Kneeling down, I ran a finger across one of the leaves. I could see little roots sprouting along the bottom of the circle. Pushing a string of power out to taste the plants told me my blood had gone into them, but something else had fueled them too. All my blood could have spilled through their seeds and they'd never sprout. From their energy, I knew they'd grow for many years to come.

On the ground, I took a moment to reaffirm my bond with the earth, spirits of nature. I thanked them, feeling their love and power fill my spirit. With my hands pressed to the bare earth, I knew it was happy, glad to feel my presence, and welcoming me home. I also knew it would have welcomed my cooling body, not as gladly, but still welcomed me back.

I hugged Jones. "Thank you. I'm so sorry I scared you." His aura lightened, thankful I wasn't blaming him. Backing away, I held his gaze. "Never again. I'm not the right person for crazy stuff."

"Deal."

"Keys?" He dropped them in my hand. "I'll have my report for you in a few days. Until then, don't call."

"Can't promise, but I'll try."

"Fair enough."

Chapter 29: Michelle

I'd settled on the sofa when someone knocked on my door. I'd been astonished when my phone didn't have a single message for me, but I wasn't counting on that to last, so it was sitting next to me for easy access when it rang. "Come in," I yelled. I hadn't locked the door, knowing someone would knock. They could come to me. My heavily medicated body wasn't moving from this rather cozy position.

The door swung open, showing Landa burdened by a big tray. "The house told me you were back. I've brought you tea and a snack." She set the tray on the coffee table.

"Thank you."

"Not a problem, dear. You look terrible. If you need anything just call me."

"It looks worse than it is."

She cocked her head to the side, not believing me. "I'm sure it does. I'm sorry about the flower. As soon as the elf returns, I'll send him in here to deal with it."

"My bathroom still looks like a horticultural experiment gone awry?" I'd been gone for several days and it hadn't been fixed? What did the elf have to do with any of this, other than giving me the flower in the first place? "Why does he need to fix it?"

"Darling, I'd thought you'd seen it." Her cheeks hollowed, showing her aggravation at her inability to fix the flower. "I can't remove the flower. He wants to talk to you about it, something about the flower being stable, external forces at work. He thinks some spell you cast affected the flower. He wants to look at it and sample it before he removes it."

Realizing my jaw hadn't closed and my eyes were drying from air exposure, I pulled myself together. "My bathroom isn't a garden project. I want it gone."

"I know, but I wanted you to know if he was going to be in your apartment. If need be, I'll stand over him with a poker, but he'll fix this mess tonight."

I'd seldom heard the worry I found in her voice. Sighing, I tried to let my frustration go. She'd done the best she could, and I wouldn't be half as annoyed if I was healthy. "Not your fault. Thank you for taking care of me. This tray will make a lovely lunch."

She kissed the top of my head. "I know dear, bad timing. I'll leave you to rest. Call if you need me."

"Landa." I didn't want her to leave without hearing how I felt. "Thank you for taking care of me, really. It makes me feel so much better."

"Not a problem. Your parents are here." Mom and Dad came in as Landa slipped out, closing the door behind her.

"Hi, Mom. Hi, Gre-Dad." He deserved better than to be called his given name. "I thought you were coming over tomorrow."

"We were worried. You talked us out of visiting you at the hospital, but we needed to see you." Mom gave me a hug and settled on the sofa next to me.

Dad stood off to the side, shifting his weight. "Would you like a hug, Dad?"

He gave me a small smile. "Yes."

His arms barely touched me, as if he knew even a gentle squeeze would hurt. I patted the cushion next to me. Dad sat down.

"How are you feeling? You look dreadful."

"Thanks, Mom. I've felt better. In a day or two, I'll be back to normal."

She laid a hand on my arm. "I doubt it. You left out most of your injuries when you told us what happened. Why didn't they heal you?"

I looked at the wall behind her. "I didn't want you to worry. They said it wouldn't be a good idea to push that much energy through me since I'd depleted my reserves."

"Well, I can't say I agree. Why don't I finish healing you?"

"No, Mom. I think I should keep the bruises for a while, to remind me that my job is magical support—nothing more."

Seeing Mom's narrowed eyes, Dad jumped in. "Not a bad idea, Michelle. I know fighting didn't seem like a good idea after my cousin blackened both my eyes. Now, what gave you the idea that you should go after a sorceress?"

"It's my job?" I offered, hoping it would satisfy them. Their matching glares said they didn't buy it. "I don't know. It didn't seem like a bad idea at the time. Please don't lecture me. I learned my lesson and have the injuries to prove it."

They exchanged a look over my head. "Very well," Mom said. "But you don't have to work with the police. There are other options."

"I like my job. I get to help people and see something new every day." Having one parent give you disappointed looks was bad enough. With both of them giving me the look, it made me want to hide in my room.

"Nancy, stop pestering our child. Michelle, if you change your mind about this job, please talk to us. Your mother's right. There are other options."

"If I want to change jobs, I'll talk to you." I'd promise anything to make the guilt trip stop.

"Good. Now, we need to talk about the classes I'm helping you teach."

From the look he gave me, I suspected he knew I was tired of feeling guilty. Dad and I swapped ideas for thirty minutes before Mom decided it was time for them to leave. I gave Dad a long hug before he left. I was lucky to have a father who would rescue me.

After they left, I snacked on the triangular turkey sandwiches, flipped through channels, and finally settled on the Science Fiction channel, falling asleep to a show about a world populated only by humans with no magic. The show was easy to doze to, and I learned a few things about humans between naps. Shortly after hearing that making fire would be challenging in a primitive setting, complete with footage of a theoretical human tribe attempting to make fire from sticks, my phone rang.

I checked the caller name before answering, confused by my date's name appearing. "Andrew?"

"Michelle?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry to call like this, but I heard you were hurt and wanted to visit. Are you okay?"

Not being sure what to say since we'd only had one date, I strove for a middle ground. "I'm fine, a bit battered, but fine. I'm so sorry I didn't call. I meant to, but with everything, it slipped my mind. You don't need to drive all the way down here. I'm home and resting. It's nice that you called."

"Please don't hang up. I had a great time the other night. If I'd known you were that busy, I would have called. We heard you'd been hurt over the radio, but it was hours before we had an update on your condition. I worried about you," he pleaded.

He sounded so sincere. "I guess you could come over, but really, I'm fine."

"You don't want me to come."

"No, that isn't it. We don't know each other well, and I'm rather tired."

"You're a great girl, who helps people. You said before you weren't much good with healing spells, and I bet now isn't an exception. I can heal you and bring you tea while you watch a movie and nap. I don't mind."

Releasing a breathy giggle I answered, "Sure, come on down. I live at Landa's Lodge. Do you need directions?"

"No. I've been there before. I'll be there in thirty minutes. I had some business in Ellijay, so I'm close."

"All right. Call me when you get here."

The next thirty minutes flew by. I think I napped, but it was hard to tell one group of humans starting fires from the next, so I couldn't be sure. The next thing I knew, my phone was ringing. Rather than walk all over the place, I talked him through the turns to my apartment. I heard his cell phone click shut through the door before he knocked.

"Come in."

His gorgeous self and neat clothing made me feel even more dreadful. Both hands were hidden behind his back, forcing him to toe the door closed.

"What do you have?"

"You're hurt." He sounded sad.

"I'll feel better if you show me what's behind your back."

With a flourish, he produced a small ceramic bowl containing a hunk of wax. "Spelled, by me, to release scent without a flame."

I held it up to my nose, "Ooh, I love cinnamon." I floated it to the center of the coffee table. "What else?"

"My very own blend of Banish Bruise." He presented it as if it was a fine wine. "I don't think this will do the trick. I thought they would've done more healing."

"It's perfect." Even if I didn't use it now, I'd use it eventually, and I'd never been any good at making the stuff. "Sit." With a soft grunt, I pulled myself to more of a sitting position with bent knees, giving him access to the last cushion.

After sitting down, he pulled my feet across his lap. "You'll be more comfortable this way. What are you watching?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Some show about a completely human world where they don't have any magic and the trials they would have faced in a primitive society."

"Odd."

We quietly watched the show as the smell of cinnamon slowly filled the air. We chatted and laughed through two hours of shows. It was fun and relaxing, exactly what I'd needed after my last few days.

I saw the flower when I used the bathroom. Though it hadn't expanded any more, it looked to be settling in for the long haul. I wasn't happy. Andrew chuckled after seeing it. I told him, honestly, that I hadn't a clue how it had happened. Removal was at the top of the to-do list.

The sun was sitting low in the sky when he turned the conversation to more serious things. "I need to leave soon. I have work tomorrow, but I want to heal you first."

"I'm fine, really. I've been seen by witches and doctors. I'll heal faster when I have more energy." Healing could be personal; besides I was sore, not dying.

"Michelle, I can feel your injuries at this distance. The burns on your legs started out worse but could be healed. I know they've mostly scabbed over and have started healing from other spells. I can feel the pain in your head, the scrapes on your face and arms, and which muscles are giving you pain. You might not be able to heal this easily, but I can. I'll be fine for work tomorrow."

I'd lost any ground on which to protest. He was going to argue this until I conceded. "Just a light healing. I don't want to risk anyone who's seriously injured for my bumps."

"Done."

It was too late when I realized I hadn't defined light healing, he could interpret that any way he wanted to. He flipped the blanket off my feet, pushing the sweat pants up just far enough to settle a hand on each ankle. A tingle ran up each leg, surging over the injured areas before fading. Standing up, he placed his hands on each side of my face, relaxing into the magic as he exhaled. His shoulders dropped and eyes closed as a soft glow surrounded him, glittering with a sky-blue light.

I gasped as the power flowed through me, erasing the large pains first. His power gently licked over each scrape, bump, or swelling left over from last night. The pain in my ankle faded to nothing, as did the cuts on my hand and injuries to my head. Rolling through me like the gentlest wave, he soothed and relaxed the sore spots left from impacting the ground. His power retreated, whispering, "Blessed be," in my ear.

"There you go. Not as good as new, but close."

Chewing on the inside of my lip was a nervous habit I thought I'd squished. "I'll walk out with you. It's the least I can do after this."

"Never argue with a beautiful lady."

Arm in arm, we walked down to the door. Looking up at him, I didn't see anything but a man looking for a woman to be with. Because I couldn't resist, I placed a good-bye kiss on his cheek, rubbing my power through his aura. It felt wonderful, like sky and water mixing, forming something primal.

With colored cheeks he said, "You really must call me for that second date. Stay healthy." Then he was out the door and striding to his car.

Walking back to my room was easier without the pain. I sank into my sofa with a grateful sigh. I pulled the blanket over my legs and was reaching for the remote when someone knocked on the door. "Come in," I bellowed. I may not have been sore anymore, but I was still tired and lazy. I'd earned a rest.

Landa marched in with Elron in tow. "I found him sulking in the parlor, but he'll fix your flower problem."

I might have dropped dead from the anger in those eyes if they'd been directed at me rather than Landa.

"I would be honored if you would escort me to the bathroom," he said, looking at me.

I heaved myself off the sofa again, rather annoyed that she wouldn't just do it. Landa studied the two of us for a moment. "You two play nice. Elron, fix it to make her happy. I'll be downstairs cooking if I'm needed." Her tone said that she better not be needed.

He relaxed marginally when she was gone. "May I see the two guardians?" It was a reasonable request since we'd be walking between them since the bathroom was attached to the bedroom.

"Sure." I turned to the two lions. "Relax. He is allowed."

Elron knelt down, petted them, and examined them. I could feel little shimmers of power, but he was doing exactly as he'd requested, inspecting them with eyes and basic magic. "They are lovely. Thank you."

"Not a problem." We walked through the bedroom, and I pushed open the door to the bathroom, revealing the crazy expanding plant. "Can you fix it?"

He walked in, astonished by the transformation. I guess he hadn't trusted Landa's version of events, not that I blamed him. The little flower had been sitting on the sink but was now attached to the wall in a bed of vines and leaves. The bloom had expanded to nearly a foot in diameter while the vines trailed across the back of the sink, around the towels on the towel rack, and over the edge of the tub. Some of the more ambitious vines were even twining around the curtain rod.

"This is impressive. What were you doing when this occurred?"

I didn't understand why his eyes had this strange sad cast every time he focused on me. "I was in the shower."

"What were you doing magically?"

"I was casting light to make the water look different colors, and I had magical music playing." He arched a brow. How he could tell there was more, I didn't know. "Narzel fart. I had rainbows too."

The corners of his lips just barely turned up. "Charming."

A gentle mint green glow blanketed the entire plant. For several minutes he stood like that, doing elven magic.

"You have the most invigorating effect on plants. It is fascinating."

"What?"

"Plants, they like you. You give them more"—he searched for a word—"liveliness than they should possess."

"Oh. I don't mean to get them excited."

"I know. It's still captivating." The magic retreated back into his skin. "What do you want me to do with this thing?"

"I want it to leave me alone. I kinda like the plant, but it can't keep growing. My bathroom isn't big enough for it to continue expanding like this, and I doubt this is a healthy place for it. There isn't any natural light in here."

He hummed and ran his fingers over the invasive flower. "This guy likes it in here. He doesn't need much light. He says he feeds off magic."

"No, I'm not having something sucking all my power out because it's hungry."

"Think more of ripples after you drop a rock in a pond. The rock would be your magic, the spell you cast. The ripples, the energy it stirs up in the world, are what this plant feeds on. You could give it pure power, but it wouldn't need much."

"It won't drain my energy?"

"No."

"It can stay if it confines itself to the areas above the shower, above the towels, and around the sink and mirror. I don't care if you take samples, but I don't want it creeping around like it was before. It startled me." He moved several bits of plant, using magic to train them to grow in a specific area. "Also, if it's going to grow this fast you may need to cut it back."

"No, that was the first growth spurt. It will grow more slowly in the future, but if you find it expanding more rapidly than you'd like, I can come back."

"Thank you. I'll be in the living room." An absent nod was the only response I received. Ten minutes later I heard him walk in, but only because I was listening. Elves were stealthy.

"Fixed," Elron said.

"Thank you."

"May I say, I was shocked at how much fawning Landa is doing, since you're fine."

"How dare you. You have no idea how I feel. You don't know what happened. Get out." He didn't know how hurt I'd been or what injuries I might have that he couldn't see.

"Fine. You've been busy anyway." He sneered.

I sat there, staring at the television, but not seeing any of it. How dare he. To think I'd begun considering him a friend. I sat there, fuming, for hours. I fixed myself dinner, nearly burning my hand in anger, but couldn't seem to regain my calm. Exasperated, I crept out into the dusk, ready to find some peace at my altar.

Chapter 30: Elron

It didn't take me long to realize I'd been wrong to lash out at her over my jealousy. I didn't know what the past few days had been like for her, and I could feel the remains of a healing spell. It wasn't right for me to have been so rude simply because another man had been with her. Oh, the phrasing modern people used. I had no idea if they'd slept together, though I strongly suspected they hadn't. However, I had good reason to believe he'd laid the healing spell on her.

I needed to know why I was so foolish. There was no reason for this outlandish behavior, though I indulged myself constantly. Ah, my logic was flawed. If I constantly exhibited a behavior there was a reason; wanting to admit to the reason was different than the existence of a reason. The best way to eliminate the behavior was to determine the cause and treat it.

Considering it that way brought everything into a new light. I wanted to court—the modern term was date—Michelle. I didn't know how to date. It had been a very long time since I'd courted a woman. I'd never dated.

This concept of dating was beyond me. I didn't need to ask her parents for permission, we didn't need any type of supervision, and it was all directed by our desires and whims, not the rules of society. Elvish courting was structured, unlike this modern dating custom. I needed someone to explain these modern behaviors to me.

Dating was strange enough, but jealousy of this type was unfamiliar. I never competed for my wife's attention. I wasn't accustomed to competing for a place in a woman's life, nor was I prepared to reveal my feelings, risking hurt.

She was in the garden, perhaps not the best place to speak to her, but it was a place she respected. Not wanting to interrupt, I waited inside the door. There was no need to aggravate her before we spoke.

When she came through the door, I spoke softly, not wanting to disturb her. "Michelle, would you take a short walk with me?"

She looked at me as if not sure when I'd appeared. "Are you going to be mean?"

"No. I'd like to apologize."

"In that case, I accept."

We didn't walk close together; she kept eight inches between us as we made our way into the garden. "Landa has informed me of my ignorance. I find myself uncertain how to progress." We walked a few steps. "I owe you more than an apology, but all other words would only be an explanation. If you want the explanation I'll gladly give it to you, but I need to be responsible enough to control my emotions and impulses."

"I'm a glutton for punishment. Let me hear the explanation." She sounded patient but intrigued.

"I'm something of a unicycle, old, out of date, unbalanced, unneeded. I find myself unsure of what actions I should take, how I should behave around you. I want to be your friend." I left the idea of being something more unsaid. It would only complicate things right now. "I'd like you to help me navigate this world." Several minutes passed as we circled the small garden. Between the dusky light and her lack of expression, I wasn't sure what she would say.

"No more pranks. No more jokes. I need more honesty and less hidden agenda. In turn we can work on being friends, and I'll help you with technology."

"Thank you. I'll escort you to dinner."

"That would be lovely." For the first time since I'd given her the flower, her voice warmed.

She moved close enough for our auras to brush, and something abrasive hit my aura, catching my attention. I pulled away, studying her, casting my senses around. "Did you know there's a tracking spell on you?"

"No." I could feel her magic stretch as she searched for the spell. "Narzel's ass. I knew that boy was too good to be true."

"What?"

"Give me a moment, I need to remove this." Her power flared, eating the spell, leaving no trace behind.

"Lovely work."

"Thank you." She started back to the lodge, not waiting for me to catch up. Inside the door she continued. "A witch asked me on a date. It seemed a bit serendipitous. I hate being right."

"The one who was here earlier?"

"That's the one."

"I knew I didn't like him."

She laughed all the way to the dining room.

Chapter 31: Michelle

Waking wasn't nearly as peaceful as sleeping had been. "Jones, I told you not to call me." He couldn't need me again.

"I know, but I needed you to hear this from me."

"Hear what?"

"Open your e-mail. Let me know when you've opened the pictures."

"Okay, give me a minute." Completely confused by his serious tone, and baffled by any reason I'd need to look at pictures, I followed his directions. "I'm on the cover slide."

"Carrie died last night in her cell. You've been asked to look at the scene, but I knew you wouldn't. Look at these. Tell me what you think."

Oh, she was dead all right. I was glad I hadn't eaten yet. With the way her abdomen was exploded, it looked like something had crawled out of her, then eaten her throat. There were more pictures of the body than I wanted to see, but this wasn't for entertainment. Blood was splashed over the entire cell, but in one corner it looked like letters.

"She made some very binding deals with some very bad folks. I haven't a clue with whom, but I can look into what would've done this." I squinted at a picture. "Is that writing on the wall?"

"Yes."

I flipped to the next slide. "Seriously, 'It's not over' is written on the wall in blood?"

"Yes, and according to the FBI's report of her ravings, you have only eliminated the least of them. The others are waiting for the right moment to strike. This was not the main plan, merely a side venture. She doesn't specify a group or organization, just 'them.'"

"Who else did I eliminate?"

"The breeder in Cherokee County. Carrie claimed she was breeding creatures for harvesting energy and body parts."

"How on earth would I have known that? Those were completely separate events!"

"Nothing she said has been verified, but Michelle, I called because of what's not written on the wall. 'It's not over' is scary enough, but the other inmates, and video, say she was shouting until her final breath."

"What did she say?" I'd only been trying to capture trolls. This was all a bit much for me.

"'The witch is mine. Vengeance is mine. Death is the first step.'"

"She said that?"

"She said it, but it wasn't her voice."

"Whose voice was it?"

"We don't know. On the tape it sounds like a woman."

"This changes nothing, Jones. I'm going to keep doing my job. Evil is often big talk and not much action. I'll keep an eye out, but it may be years before they act on that promise."

Also by N. E. Conneely

A Witch's Path Series:

Witch for Hire (Book 1)

A Witch's Path (Book 2)

A Witch's Trial (Book 3)

Coming Summer 2015

A Witch's Concern (A Witch's Path Book 4)

About the Author

I live in a small town in Oregon with my dog and a mountain of books. It rains from October until June, and everyone rushes outside when it's sunny.

For fun, I play with my dog, read, knit, crochet, paint, tie-dye, and do origami. I make a great pizza. I didn't get the sea monkeys, because I couldn't figure out where to put them in my new place.

I'm currently working on the fifth book in the Witch's Path Series.

Connect with N. E. Conneely

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Website: www.neconneely.com

If you'd like to e-mail me: author@neconneely.com