In the Company of Witches

“Here, let me take those. Thanks so much.” Ramona had shoved a gargoyle doorstop under the display’s corner to precariously balance it, but she had a placid look on her face as she moved toward them. Since such catastrophes were a daily occurrence for her, she never got flustered by them. Today she was wearing a faded lavender T-shirt that said Embrace the Magic amid a spray of glitter Raina was sure would come off in the wash and cover everything she owned. She and Gina got along famously, of course. She also wore a long skirt with bell tassels that chimed pleasantly, and when she’d tapped the doorstop under the display, it had been with the toe of a zebra-striped sneaker. It was a fashion nightmare, but Ramona’s enormous lavender-blue eyes, her wealth of streaming blond hair, and her lithe, pixie figure pulled it off. She was an Amy Brown fairy come to life.



As she reached out to help them with her fugitive inventory, Ramona started. “Raina.”



She’d forgotten all about the dissembling magic, but it still surprised her that Ramona hadn’t recognized her until they touched. They were linked by blood, coven sisters. It indicated how effective the magic was. Guardians were too damn impressive. If supreme arrogance wasn’t part of the packaging, she might be tempted to compliment him.



Ramona’s eyes had widened to saucers. “You’re in town.”



She’d tried to make light of what Li had told Mikhael about how little she left the property, but hearing the utter shock in Ramona’s voice scuttled that. She really needed to teach her very small group of friends to have better poker faces.



“You make it sound like aliens landed,” she said irritably.



“I would be less surprised by that.” Then Ramona’s gaze shifted to Mikhael. “He’s not what he seems, either. Who is he?”



A warm flutter of energy, and Raina knew Mikhael had modulated the spellwork, allowing Ramona to see him as he was. Not the best idea, because her affable expression instantly turned dark as a stirred hornet’s nest. “We know him. We don’t like him.” Her attention went back to Raina, then to him again, reminding Raina of an owl clock. “Right?”



“Well…he’s different…Here for a different purpose. It’s complicated.” In short, a big not now silent communication.



Ramona lifted a brow. “Okay, I’m confused. Normal for me, but really confused.”



“Excuse me.” A tall stranger had approached with an armful of stuffed bears on toy bicycles. When Mikhael’s gaze sharpened on him, the stranger returned the look with a steady one of his own, his eyes the gray of twilight fields. “I believe these are yours, miss?”



Ramona turned around. “Hey, yes, thanks. Yes, those are mine.” When her attention lifted, she seemed to get a little captured in his gaze.



“Miss?”



“Oh, yes. Hi.”



“Hello.” He gave her an odd look.



“Sorry. Something odd…about your aura. You’re new in town,” she said.



The stranger looked like he was reading something from Ramona as well, but more detailed, like an intricate physics text. Raina also detected something different about him, but Mikhael seemed to have a better sense of what. She shifted closer to Ramona’s back.



The gray eyes never left Ramona’s face. After a moment, his expression cleared, though the stranger still looked vaguely amazed. “Yes. Just passing through.”



“Oh, well, then. The café around the corner has the best grilled cheese sandwiches. I know, I know. You’re going to say, Grilled cheese sandwiches, really? But I’d take them over the fanciest food anywhere. They’re like the double-decker of all cheese sandwiches. I was about to go there for lunch. Why don’t we go together and you can tell me all about yourself?”



Ramona moved back into the store, taking him with her, still chattering. She tossed a glance back at Raina that said, Gorgeous hot guy on the hook; we’ll talk later about why the hell you’re hanging out with Ruby’s Dark Guardian, since I know you can’t talk right now.



“Should we leave her alone with him?” Raina stared after the male. He could be a librarian, tall, lean, quiet, the neatly cut hair. But then there were those fathomless eyes, the dangerous tip-off.



“Yes, he’s fine. He’s not here for her. And when they’re not here for you, they’re very gentle souls. Even when they’re here for you, they can be gentle about it, depending on what kind of person you’ve been. He’s a Grim Reaper.”



“What?”



“Yeah, Grim Reaper.” Mikhael squatted down in front of the lopsided display rack. Ramona had left the broken leg with its bent screw on the bottom shelf. He fixed it, then moved the gargoyle, using one hand to hold up the display as he reset the screw.



Raina restacked the balls and kaleidoscopes that Ramona had forgotten, but it was distracting, Mikhael doing the handyman thing. All he needed was a tool belt and no shirt. With the jeans riding nice and low in that squat. With effort, she focused on what he was saying.



“If a soul is being held back that needs to go, they call in a death angel. For the normal course of things, Grim Reapers take the lead. Most of the time they’re a taxi service, but you don’t want to cross one. They can pretty much kill you with a thought.”



“That’s reassuring.”



“Your friend is in no danger. The one he’s come for hasn’t anything to fear as well. Elderly man, good life. Though dying is cruel, death itself can be kind. He’s here to help with that transition, guide him where he needs to go.”



“Oh. Why did he look at us like that? Doesn’t he know the address of the person he’s here to collect?”



“The moment he looks at you, he knows the how, when, why and where of your death. It makes life odd for him. They’re usually very solitary.”



“Oh…oh.”



“What?” Mikhael glanced up at her. She laid her hand on his shoulder, just because it was there and her hands were empty now. It was warm and solid.



“I was wondering why he was looking at Ramona like she was a puzzle. I’ll bet he couldn’t figure it out.”



“That’s impossible.” His brow creased. “The Grim Reaper knows the date of everyone’s death. Even immortals like me or Derek.”



“But Ramona is total chaos. If she does a spell for hair growth, it turns into a grasshopper plague. He couldn’t tell. I’ll lay money on it.”



Mikhael straightened, pushing on the display rack to make sure it was steady now. “If you’re right, that should be intriguing to him.”



“She looked quite intrigued by him.”



“Women.” Mikhael snorted.



She let that pass, something else prodding her curiosity. “Ramona couldn’t see through the spell. Can you see me, as me?”



He shook his head. “I see you as I’ve spelled you to look. I set it that way to detect it immediately if those sexual power surges of yours tampered with it.”



“So in the movie theater, you were making out with an average-looking thirty-something woman?”



“I still gave you large breasts.” Tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow, he continued their stroll. “It doesn’t matter what your outside looks like, Raina. I still see you as you are. That’s how I know…” He stopped, gazing at Ramona’s window display of tarot card decks and Ouija boards. Raina wasn’t fooled.



“That’s how you know what?”



“If I finish the sentence, you’ll be angry, and I prefer you not angry. You’re having a good day. I like seeing you having a good day.”



He faced her with that impassive mask, as if he was prepared for her to insist. She thought about it, spoke



slowly.



“It’s said angels can see the nature of the soul. That they know whether someone is good or evil, or what level of corruption a soul carries. You have enough angel blood you can see that in Isaac, can’t you? That’s what you know.”



He said nothing, and she knew he was sticking by his previous statement. He wasn’t going to go there unless she insisted. She nodded once, to herself. Took his hand again. “You promised me ice cream.”



“So I did.” When they started walking, he pulled her close, brushed his lips against her temple. He really was very different from what she thought he was. No, not different. He was scary, deadly. But he was more than that, too. The shape of his soul kept shifting.



“So why did you decide on the kelpie instead of the Ferrari?”



“You made it clear the Ferrari wouldn’t impress you.”



“Oh, and it’s about impressing me now?”



“Isn’t it the male’s job to impress you with virile trappings, including my choice of mount? Meaning my horse.”



“I’m glad you clarified that. And my job?”



“To look disdainful and dismissive. Keep me turning on my head, trying to figure out what will work.”



“I’m very good at disdainful and dismissive.”



“That’s exactly what I was thinking when I got your panties wet in the theater.”



“That was Edward and Carlyle’s doing, thank you very much.”



“Together?”



“Just a personal fantasy.” She sniffed, turned her head and bit the hand on her shoulder. “Besides, I can make you believe what I want you to believe, wet panties and all.”



“Really.” He stopped, turned her toward him.



“Don’t.” She put her hand on his wrist. “It was a joke.”



“Jokes like that don’t make me laugh, and you know it. Which is why you throw them in, to taunt me. Want to test me here?” He lifted a brow. “I’m not averse to public displays of fucking. I can lift the spell like a stage curtain.”



“Every girl’s dream,” she said lightly, though she knew he registered her shiver. He was the quintessential bad boy, but he was taunting a bad girl. Together they were going to be thrown in jail.