Page 20 of Hell and Hexes
I didn’t tell her. Maybe because I knew deep down she didn’t approve of the demon—or whatever the heck he was. Maybe because I knew she wouldn’t approve of me having a brief no-strings-attached fling with the guy.
My heartbeat sped up at the thought. It so wasn’t me to do something like that, but the thought of a fun, wild, crazy night with Eshu was increasingly appealing.
I let go of Cassie’s hand and dug into my omelet and hash browns. “Anyway, right before the fight broke out, I heard the werewolves talking. It may have been a bunch of drunk bravado, but I’m concerned.”
My sister swallowed a bite of pancake and shot me a wry smile. “Let me guess—they’re going to raid Clinton’s territory and kill them all, then they’ll grab their torches and pitchforks and head into town to take out Stanley and Shelby.”
When Cassie put it that way, it did sound like a bunch of drunken werewolves just spouting off. But it had worried me then and it worried me now.
“I have it from another source that Dallas plans to attack Clinton Monday night after your meeting, regardless of how it goes,” I told her, purposely leaving out Clinton’s name as my source.
Cassie bit her lip. “That might be the case. I’m really not sure what to do, Sylvie. I can try to get them to come to a peaceful solution. I can threaten them both. But ultimately, if they attack and kill each other, all I can do is support Sheriff Oakes as he investigates and enforces the laws of Accident.”
It would result in a lot of werewolves, including Dallas, being expelled from the protection of the wards and might serve as a deterrent against any action in the future, but that wouldn’t help those who died, and it would set the remaining werewolves against the town in a huge feud that would last centuries. No, letting the two packs duke it out wasn’t the solution. I just wasn’t sure what was.
“What about the threat on Stanley?” I asked, shifting to the other thing I’d heard last night.
“That one I have more faith on. Bronwyn and I can work on some additional protections for Stanley’s place, and I’ll even ask Sheriff Oakes to assign a deputy to watch his house Monday night. Plus, Dallas knows that any action his pack members make on a lone wolf will come back on him. I’ll hold him personally responsible, and I made it very clear that if he pissed me off enough, if he disrespected the rule of law here, he was going to end up outside the town wards at best, dead at worst. He might risk that to take out a rival pack as he considers the mountain to be his territory, but he won’t have the same excuse for attacking a werewolf under my protection in the town proper.”
I felt the undercurrent of anger in Cassie’s voice, saw the spark in her eyes. She’s always had issues controlling her temper, and she absolutely had the power to make those threats a reality. It wasn’t just that my eldest sister was a lawyer, she’d always dealt with conflict with a firm authoritative hand. I’m not saying that didn’t have its place in our world, but in my opinion, Cassie often jumped in with her mandates and threats of force when there was still opportunity for compromise and a peaceful solution—a peaceful solution that didn’t involve setting an ex-boyfriend’s pants on fire in the middle of the courthouse, or burning off Clinton Dickskin’s beard or possibly forcing Dallas Dickskin outside the town wards in exile.
“What’s your plan for Monday’s meeting?” I asked, worried what her answer would be.
“I let both packs lay their demands on the table. We discuss what’s acceptable and what’s not acceptable from the point of view of Accident as a whole, then they hash out the rest between them.”
I tried hard to keep my expression neutral. Luckily, I had years of professional experience doing this. I also knew that Cassie liked to hear things straight and not dance around an issue. For all her temper, she was readily swayed by a solid argument and was truly willing to see another’s point of view.
“I’m about to suggest something, and you’re not going to like it,” I warned her.
Her eyes searched my face, then she leaned back with a sigh. “No. You’re not mediating this in my stead.”
I bit back a smile, because she knew me so well. Only Ophelia knew me better, and she was my twin. “I’m very concerned that this situation is a powder keg. While your style of conflict resolution has merit and has a key place in the governing of Accident, I feel it’s too early in the mediation process to force a solution. I love you, Cassie. Accident is a safe place because if the crap hits the fan, you are absolutely capable of taking out the trash. But we’re not at that point yet with the werewolves, and I worry that sending in the heavy artillery is going to make a tricky situation a whole lot worse.”
She glared at me. “I hate it when you talk sense, you know. I hate it when you sit there all calm and gently tell me I’m not the right witch for this job and do it in a way that has me agreeing with you.”
I laughed. “That’s what I do, Cassie. Every day of my job. That’s what I do. And that’s why I need to be at this meeting Monday.”
“With me?”
The very fact that she’d framed that as a question meant she already knew the answer.
“Do you think that’s a good idea? Will your presence will help or hurt the negotiations?”
She sighed. “Hurt. It will be hard for you to keep things calm and de-escalate any tension with me sitting there ready to burn beards and pants off werewolves. I’m just scared, Sylvie. I know you’re good, and you’re a grown woman who is fully capable of sitting in a room with angry werewolves and getting them to talk about their feelings and crap like that. But I’m worried. You almost got squashed last night in a bar. You couldn’t calm that situation. I’m concerned the same thing is going to happen in this meeting.”
“There won’t be a minotaur at this meeting,” I reminded her. “Or booze. Dallas and Clinton won’t be there to drink and get rowdy; they’re there to have their positions heard and validated, and discuss options.” I rolled my eyes at her skeptical expression. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll take Pete’s towel.”
She chuckled. “I’d rather you take Lucien but having him there would probably get everyone’s fur up just as much as having me there. Besides, he’s had to run off to hell and he might not be back for a day or two.”
“I’ll be fine on my own,” I assured her. “I’m a luck witch, remember? And my job is to guide people to a better understanding of themselves and each other.”
“And to expand their sexual horizons into a really kinky direction.” Cassie grinned. “Just remember to bring some luck charms, okay? And promise me you’ll be okay. If things start to go south, get the heck out of there and I’ll drive up that mountain the next day and take care of it myself.”
Luck charms. My heart sank at the thought of the spell items sitting on my counter, waiting for me to work on them. Was I strong enough yet? I did feel better today than I had since the accident, but was it enough? Could I put something together in time for Monday’s meeting? Was I even a luck witch anymore?
I kept my expression neutral. “I promise. I’m good at this, Cassie. It’s my thing. Have some faith in my ability to guide the werewolves toward a peaceful solution.”
Cassie poked at the few bites of pancake left on her plate and shook her head. “I have absolute faith in you, Sylvie. It’s the werewolves I don’t trust.”
I thought of Clinton in my office this morning, of Shelby yesterday with Alberta, of all the werewolves I’d seen over the years. This was the difference between Cassie and me. She saw them as a defense attorney would. She saw them through the lens of a member of the legal system, as the witch responsible for everyone in Accident. I saw them as complex individuals with hopes and dreams and struggles, just like everyone else in this town. I respected them. I respected their culture. And I knew that deep down inside, every one of them wanted the same thing we all did—peace, joy, love, and friendship.
Hopefully I was the right witch to help them achieve those things.
