Page 14 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

When she didn’t laugh at my dumb joke, I knew things were serious.

She indicated a green velvet slipper chair in front of her desk, andI sat in it. It was comfy and smelled vaguely of vanilla. Instead of going behind her desk, she sat in the matching one beside it, turning so that our knees nearly touched.

“What is it?”

Cecil’s hat brushed my earlobe. I wasn’t sure whether Bronwyn could see him. She was a learned witch, which meant she was human, though no less powerful for having been born as one. Her knowledge of spells was vast, and I was pretty sure I’d hardly scratched its surface in our dealings.

“This is a little unorthodox.”

Interesting word choice. Not unusual, or strange, butunorthodox. My curiosity was piqued.

“Most of the things people ask me to do are,” I said.

“So I’ve heard.” She rested her hands on her lap. They were ringless, and her nails were painted a pale pink that clashed with my own congealed-blood shade of red.

I gave her a moment because she seemed to be having trouble finding the words.

“There’s no way I can put this so it doesn’t sound like a gross invasion of privacy, so I’ll just blurt it out. There’s something weird going on with my friend Maya Reeves. I want to hire you to find out what it is.”

This wasn’t within spitting distance of the most unorthodox request I’d ever gotten. “You said she’s your friend. Can’t you ask her?”

“No.” She weaved her fingers together and squeezed them tight. “Yes. I mean, I did ask, but all she said was that she was fine, and I didn’t have to worry about her in this over-the-top, dreamy tone. I think someone cast a spell on her, but I can’t detect anything.”

The odd emphasis she put onsomeonehad me interested. “Is she in a relationship?”

“She’s married to a man but didn’t take his name. They’ve been together for five years. Two weeks ago, she confided to me that she was leaving him. Filed papers andeverything.”

“And now?”

“She retracted the papers, and everything isjust fine.”

There was something Bronwyn wasn’t telling me. I could feel it. “So, you’re saying your friend was Stepford-wifed by her husband. I take it he’s in our world?”

“Yes. They’re both paranormals. She’s a rat shifter.”

“And him?”

Bronwyn cleared her throat. Smoothed her hands over her thighs. Played with a stray braid that flopped over her shoulder.

“He’s a coven witch, isn’t he?”

NowI understood her word choice. Except that a member of a coven requesting an outside magical to investigate another member of the coven wasn’t only unorthodox, it was downright treasonous to the coven’s way of thinking.

“Yes.” Her voice shrank to a wisp of sound.

“Is it Desmond Mace? I’ve never liked that guy.”

She nodded. “It’s Desmond.”

“Now I know why you want me to look into it. He's an … earth witch.”

The words stuck in my throat.

There was a reason people called me when they needed the assistance of a true earth witch. Desmond was only one of us in the loosest sense of the title. He preferred to lean on what he'd deemed was "stronger" magic, but was really just a bunch of learned magic shortcuts.

"We don't claim him," I said.

"I know. Why do you think I didn't bother calling him when I was dealing with that giantNepenthes?"

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