Big Beautiful Witches: I Married A Warlock (7 page)

And she opened her eyes to look. On the floor was a tangle of plant matter growing from the clots of mud.

She examined several of the leaves critically.  “Let’s see. This is Mountainfire, a plant that only comes from the far northern district. You don’t see it around here at all.  And this one is an algae which grows by the docks.” She looked at one of the other clusters of leaves and hesitated a moment. “I don’t recognize this one.”

“I can take it back to the station and give it to one of our experts.”

“You have a green witch on staff?” Fiona asked skeptically.

“No, sadly, we do not.” He looked at her. “Although we’d like to.”

“If that’s a suggestion that I apply to be on the police force…you know me better than that.   Listen, if I don’t recognize the plant, it must be quite rare. Let me give it a try, go through some of my books. If I don’t find anything then I’ll give them back to you.”

Erik nodded and scooped up the other plant species. “This is quite helpful already. We can search the Wharf for anyone who’s travelled to the north recently.”

He pulled out small paper bags from the evidence bag, and put the leaves in them. 

“Now we’re going to go to the Griswold’s warehouse. It’s close; it won’t take long.   Then we can grab a late lunch, or an early dinner.”   He glanced at her.

“Unless you have other plans.”

“Hmmm. Nothing big.  I was planning a minor crime spree, maybe some looting, a little pillaging…”

He shook his head.  “Tsk, tsk, Fiona. You really do want me to pull out the handcuffs, don’t you?”

More than you know, she thought.

“Well, if you’re going to be a wet blanket about it, I guess I could do dinner instead. Save the looting and pillaging for some other night,” she shrugged, keeping her voice casual.

Erik was asking her out to dinner.  As a friend? As a date?  She bit her lip to keep herself from screaming “Just tell me what you want!”

As they walked out of the warehouse, he placed his hand lightly on the small of her back, and she barely suppressed a shiver of desire.

The Griswold’s warehouse was much smaller, in a brick building, and housed rare artwork.  Erik and Fiona checked in at the front office, and were led by a secretary to a large, poorly lit room stacked with wooden crates.

Sullen workers, annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of their work day, led them to a pallet stacked high with boxes.

“This was empty before. I asked that the crime scene be left undisturbed,” Erik snapped.

The foreman, a burly 7 foot human who clearly had some giant in his bloodline, shrugged indifferently. “We got work to do. I got a schedule to keep. We fall behind schedule, my salary gets docked.” He scratched at his blue dreadlocks, shot them an irritated look, and folded his arms. “How long you gonna take? This is cutting into my lunch hour.”

Erik stretched himself to his full height.  A sense of power rolled off him, and the air around him seemed to shimmer.

“We’ll take as long as we need to.  Longer if you keep this up. Do you have a problem with the Enforcer’s Department?”

The half-giant blinked and took half a step back, then shot them a look of disgust and, spinning on his heel, walked away.

“Don’t worry about it, Erik,” Fiona said, kneeling on the ground.  “There’s clumps of mud here as well. I’ve got enough to work with.”

Again, she pointed her wand at the clods of earth and sent her power pulsing down it, and again, tangles of green shot out of the dirt and leaves swelled and unfurled.

“It’s the same mix as before,” she said, handing him two sets of leaves and wrapping the third set in her purse.

Erik nodded appreciatively.  “All right, we’ve made some excellent progress. So we know that at least one of the crew spends time at the dock, and who very recently came to our city, from the north.  We can start checking through our criminal databases.   And when we figure out what that other plant species is, we can narrow it down even more.”

“I am good at what I do. I can’t deny it,” Fiona shrugged immodestly. 

Erik grinned as they walked out to his car. “This calls for a celebration! I’m thinking champagne. How about –“

His cell phone rang with a series of musical tones that made him grimace. He grabbed the phone, flipped it open, and said “Hello, mother. Is there an emergency? I’m at work.”

He paused, and said “What’s the emergency then? Is this something that you absolutely need me for? I’m at work, in the middle of a case - Fine, fine…I’ll be there.”

He turned back to Fiona. “I’m sorry. My mother’s claiming there’s a mysterious emergency that she needs me for.”

“Claiming?”

“Mothers. You know how they are. They have their own agenda.” He sighed. “I’ll drop you off at your shop.   I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know what time I’m coming to pick you up. And I promise next time we head out, I’m turning off my cell phone.”

“Of course. Give your mother my regards.” Fiona tried to tamp down on the dull feeling of disappointment that swelled inside her. 

Chapter Seven

Erik was far from pleased as he walked into his mother’s living room to find her sitting immaculately coiffed and beautifully dressed, at a table set for two.   Her hair, which she’d allowed to go silver, was piled high in her head and secured with ebony combs.   She wore a gown in the season’s current fashion, with neon flowers continuously opening and closing, which Erik detested. He was glad that Fiona wasn’t obsessed with trendiness;  she always wore classic, pretty clothing that hugged her curves in a way that made his breath catch.

Theodora Bloodstone was sipping tea, and when she saw Erik, her face lit up in a smile and she poured tea into his cup.

He looked around the room. “Let’s see. The room’s not on fire, there are no invading zombie hordes, you’re not under attack by trolls…”

His mother shot him a look of reproof.  “You seem disappointed.”

“I am disappointed to be interrupted at work under false pretenses.” He sat down at the table, but didn’t touch the mug in front of him. She gestured at it; he shook his head.

She sighed, and set her tea down. “Very well.  I can see that three years on the front line has done nothing for your manners.”

He shot her an irritated look. “We didn’t have many tea parties there.  Forgive me if I’m out of practice.”

“I’ll have you know, I didn’t summon you here under false pretenses.  This is an emergency; the Crystal Ball is in three weeks.”

“And there is some security threat to the Crystal Ball?”

She shook her head, shocked. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Then there is no emergency, and I am returning to work.”

“I have been talking with Maegera’s mother. She is most eager to make a suitable match for her daughter. And as you know, her family name is one of the oldest and most respected – Erik, sit
down
!”

Erik was on his feet, and he ignored his mother’s command. “Don’t call me away from work like this again, mother. The boy who cried wolf, and all that. Next time it might be a real emergency and I might not come, because I’ll think you’re summoning me on a ruse.”

She glared at him.  “The future of the Bloodstone name is nothing to be trifled with!  As a warlock, you can’t think only of yourself and your needs. You have a responsibility to marry a suitable mate, a woman of acceptable lineage and sufficient power that the two of you will have –“

“Mother, I know all this. I’ve known this since childhood.”

“So why won’t you consider Maegera?”

“I’m sure that she’ll make a perfectly fine match –“ His mother’s eyes lit up, gleaming with hope. “For someone.”

Her face fell. “Will you promise me that you at least consider it?”

Impatience made his voice harsh. “I will consider it,” he said coldly. “And now I’m returning to work.”

As he left, his mother was already crossing the room to grab her cell phone and report back to Maegera’s mother.  Time was short. Maegera was 25 this year; she needed to make an acceptable match soon.    To have Maegera bear her son’s children – that would be the pinnacle of Theodora’s ambitions.  They would be extremely powerful, and quite beautiful, too.

Not like the children he might produce if he married - no. She pushed the thought from her mind. That couldn’t happen.

But she knew that Maegera could be a bit – well, a bit of a bitch, if she was honest with herself.  A shrill, spoiled, self-centered, annoying bitch, if she was brutally honest with herself.

But Erik had been away for three years. With luck, he might have forgotten that, and only remember Maegera’s ethereal beauty and reed-like figure.

It was urgent that she tell Maegera’s mother to convince her daughter to tone it down until after the Crystal Ball.  If she could get Maegera to be on her sweetest behavior,  and get the two of them together, and make absolutely sure that Erik understood how much his family stood behind this match…

Well, it wasn’t as if he had to spend a lot of time with Maegera after they got married, was it? He could travel. He could sign up for another stint in the troll wars. He could have mistresses on the side. As long as he came back often enough to produce several good-looking, magically powerful heirs, that was all that was really needed.

Of course, many warlocks these days were selfish, insisting on marrying for love rather than for duty and the betterment of the race. She could only pray that Erik hadn’t turned out to be one of them.

*  *  *

“So did you make any progress on the warehouse break-ins yesterday? Ouch.”

Fiona sat at her kitchen table next to Maizie, applying a poultice of healing herbs to a cut on Maizie’s cheek. Maizie had come by the apartment early that morning, after having had an apparently rough night out on the town.

“I discovered more than I expected.  I found some plant matter at the warehouse that Erik and his friends are investigating. Hold still! I’m almost done.”

She stepped back to check her work.

Maizie checked her reflection in a hand-held mirror. “You are a miracle worker,” she said, as her cut began sealing itself closed. “I’d be a mass of scars by now if it weren’t for you.”

“You know, a good way to avoid getting scarred up is to avoid getting in fights in the first place. What were you doing last night?”

“Just blowing off some steam.”

“Who did you challenge?”

“A human.  Bodyguard for a vampire gang. But I agreed not to use any magic.”

Fiona shook her head in exasperation. And to think, Maizie had the nerve to get angry at her for rushing off into the Graveyard unprotected. 

“Why would you do that?”

Maizie shrugged sullenly. “I was in a bad mood.   Anyway, I kicked his ass, so what’s the big deal? I never take on more than I can handle. Usually.”

“That’s why you’re the number one customer for my quick-heal herbs.”

“They work, don’t they?”

 “To an extent. Let’s not push our luck, shall we? Anyway, Erik’s busy for the next couple of days investigating some murder, and also following up on investigating some leads that he’s developed, because of two of the three plant species that I identified for him. I didn’t identify the third one yet.”

“Shut the front door. There is a plant species that you can’t identify?”

“I said that I didn’t identify it for him yet. I didn’t say that I couldn’t.” Fiona screwed the lid back on her jar of salve. “I’m going to wash up and then we’ll get some coffee before we open up. Try not to pick any more fights with people twice your size for a little while, all right? These herbs can only do so much.”

Maizie didn’t answer, which was answer enough for Fiona. She’d keep the quick-heal salve handy.

Around mid-morning, the reason for her bad mood became apparent when a limousine pulled up in front of Fiona’s shop, and a tall man draped in black climbed out. Vampire, wearing light-blocking fabric.  He swept through the door and headed straight for Maizie. 

He and Maizie argued in low, heated tones.   Fiona was surrounded by a knot of customers, giving a demonstration on how to properly use lip-plumping salve, so she couldn’t hear what the argument was about.  Minutes later, the vampire slammed out of the shop and climbed into the limo, which shot off in a squeal of tires.

Fiona considered asking Maizie what was going on, but decided against it. Maizie normally told Fiona everything about her love life in squirm-inducing detail. If she wasn’t sharing, than it meant what Fiona had suspected all along; she was actually really falling for the vampire.

“Excuse me, Fiona?” a voice piped up behind her.

She turned to see Lillith, a friend of her younger sister’s.  Lillith was a pretty, pale redhead with freckles and a gap between her front teeth. 

“Buying charms for the ball, Lillith?”

“No, your sister asked me to send for you. She isn’t feeling well. She’s had a headache for several days now.  She sent me to find out if you have any potions that might help.”

“Certainly. I can take a break for a bit.”

Her stomach turned to water at the thought of an encounter with her mother, but if her sister needed her help, she couldn’t say no. Besides, it had been too long since she’d visited Delphine, she thought with a twinge of guilt.   Delphine needed to hear the voice of sanity as often as possible…the voice that told her that she was beautiful just the way she was, despite everything their mother said.

She told Renoir and Maizie where she was going, then started up her car and headed uptown to her parents house.

Her parents lived in a pseudo-Colonial monstrosity plopped down on a massive, immaculately trimmed lawn. The houses in the neighborhood were a mish-mash of styles: Italianate, Tudor, Georgian, Colonial, Queen Anne, Mediterranean revival, clumped together like mismatched party guests at a costume gala. 

The only thing they had in common was ostentatious and unnecessary size;  they could each have housed dozens of people.

When Fiona had grown up there it had seemed normal to her to have a house so large that you could get lost in it. Now she thought of the denizens of The Graveyard who slept curled up in doorways, or squeezed half a dozen into a studio apartment, or squatting in darkened warehouse buildings without electricity or running water, and her chest tightened with resentment as she climbed the broad marble steps.