I greeted the firemen, both of whom were pretty fine-looking dudes. “Hey, let me show you the office.”
The two men followed me in, and I showed them my laptop. The cord had melted down, but when they examined the room and felt the walls and checked the outlet, they couldn’t find anything that might have caused the smell or the melting cord.
“I think it may be a defective power cord on your computer. I’d take it into the shop to see if there’s been any damage before you attempt to use it again.” The taller man, with short scruffy blond hair and the brightest smile I’d seen in a long time, gave me a nod.
“I’m sorry to bring you out for nothing,” I said.
“Not at all,” the other man said. He was dark-skinned with sparkling eyes, and I could swear he was a shifter of some kind. “We’d rather you be safe than sorry. You did as you should have. If there was a fire in your wall, it could have smoldered until you were asleep before breaking out. As it is, everything but your computer looks safe.”
They waved good-bye and took off. I watched them go, grateful Killian hadn’t been home to see the firemen show up. I didn’t like worrying him. As I turned to go back inside, I had a sudden spurt of adrenaline, and nervously eyed the door. Nothing looked different, and so I chalked it up to being spooked by the cord melting down. Picking up the carriers, I went back inside and shut the door.
By seven p.m., I was struggling to muster the energy to attend the coven meeting. The fear of fire had worn me out, especially after the court case. I felt like I’d done more than enough for one day.
I yawned. Maybe I should make myself another latte, but that would up my caffeine consumption to…holy crap, I’d had about ten shots of espresso that day. That was a little over my usual, and while I felt I could handle it, any more might be pushing the envelope. But there was no help for it. If I was going to make it to the meeting, I’d have to indulge myself.
So I marched into the kitchen and flipped on my espresso machine. While waiting for it to heat up, I emptied two cans of Feastables beef chunks, sweet potato, and gravy into the cat dishes. I set them down and called Xi and Klaus, who came running. I had ordered special containers for them—they were metal bowls that were wide enough so they prevented what was called whisker fatigue. When I first heard about it, it sounded like the perfect thing to prey on gullible cat fanatics, but after a little research, I realized it was a very real thing. Narrow dishes meant that cats had to hold their whiskers back and it caused stress on their cheek and jaw muscles.
Xi looked up at me and let out a mew. She stared at me until I knelt and held out my hand. She paused her eating, then walked over to me, sniffed my hand and stood up with her front paws on my knee. Another meow made it clear that she was concerned about something.
I gathered her up and set her on the counter, stroking her back. “Is something wrong?”
She brushed her head against my hand and then meowed again. I closed my eyes and put my hand on her side, trying to feel out what she was attempting to tell me. I got a sense of vague unease, followed by a faint alarm.
“There is something wrong, isn’t there?” I couldn’t see anything out of place. I set her back on the ground. “You eat, and I’ll take a look around.”
As she settled into her dinner, I began my patrol around the house. First, I checked the crystal grids that I had placed by each door leading outside. Neither the wards at the front door nor the kitchen door seemed to have been triggered. I held my hands over them but there was no spark indicating that anything was wrong. Nothing had tried to come through either door.
My next thought was to check down in the basement. I hadn’t realized I even had a basement until a few months back, when I found a hidden room in my house, and then the basement under that room. I had made the no-longer-hidden room into a reading nook, and as I walked into the nook, I paused, closing my eyes.
There was a charge in the air, like the feeling before a thunderstorm broke. But again, I couldn’t pinpoint the source. I turned on the light to the basement and headed downstairs. My contractor had done a good job replacing the rickety staircase with one that was sturdy with firm railings. He had also wired in a light that a switch in the reading nook would turn on, so the stairs were well-lighted.
Downstairs, I looked around. I had made the basement into my magical studio after we had closed and sealed the portal. Since that time, I’d had absolutely no trouble with any ghostly apparitions or anything else of that nature.
I sat down at the table. My crystal ball was on it, and I pulled it toward me, cradling it in my hands. Closing my eyes, I began to scry, searching for anything that might be out of place.
My brain felt caught in a fog and I tried to wave it aside so I could see what I needed to see, but it wouldn’t budge. I caught the sense of something trying to cloak itself, but there seemed to be nothing destructive behind it. Whatever it was felt almost contrived, like something was deliberately trying to cloak itself, but I couldn’t sense any danger.
I opened my eyes and sat back, thinking. Even if it didn’t feel malign, I knew that something was hanging around. And if it could cloak my vision, maybe it could cloud my other senses, too.
But then again, wouldn’t the wards have gone off if something evil had entered my house? Still confused, I went back upstairs. I searched through the rest of the house quickly, looking for any sign that there was something sneaking around, but everything seemed in its place, even though I looked in every closet and even under my bed.
Troubled, I headed back downstairs to the kitchen. My espresso machine was fully heated by then, so I made myself a double latte, and stirring it with a tall spoon, I sat down at the kitchen nook. Xi jumped on the table. She meowed loudly in my face and I stroked her side.
“I can’t find anything, baby. I don’t know what it is. I wish you could tell me.”
Xi was my familiar, and while we could communicate in rudimentary ways, she wasn’t like some talking cat out of the movies. All she could give me were vague warnings. I glanced at the clock again. Shit. It was eight o’clock, and I had to get ready for the meeting.
Hurrying, I dashed back down to my ritual room.
I’d had the contractor install a wardrobe. Pulling out my ritual dress—the functional one for our regular meetings—I quickly changed clothes. Tonight was the full moon—one of our esbats. Hustling my ass, I shoved my athame, my book of shadows, and a notebook into my tote bag. I swung my ankle-length black cloak over the top of my dress, and slipped my arms through the slits. As I hurried back upstairs, I decided that it was safe to leave the cats. I just couldn’t tap into anything negative, and if I missed the meeting, Rowan would be on my ass about it.
Worrying my lip, I gathered my purse and keys and headed out to my grandmother’s house.
My grandmother, Rowan Firesong, was the oldest and most powerful witch in Moonshadow Bay. She was also the leader of the Crystal Cauldron coven, which was dedicated to protecting Moonshadow Bay from the machinations of the Covenant of Chaos, another magical organization that was dedicated to unleashing the powers of Chaos and the ancient gods of that realm. Part of the Court Magika, the Crystal Cauldron was an official law enforcement organization. There were other covens like it throughout the world, mostly in shadow towns.