Wicked By Any Other Name Part 9

"I don't know. I would think it would be like sleeping with a huge stuffed animal." Stasi looked out the window and frowned. "There wasn't any sign of snow when we were out there a few hours ago."

Blair joined her at the window and peered out. "Wow, there are several inches out there now." When the collie barked, she headed for the back door and opened it for him. "Typical guy. First they charm you into bed, then they eat and run without one word about calling you."

Stasi continued staring at the trees collecting falling snowflakes on their branches. "We need to check the lake again."

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, but something feels very troubling out there." She ran to the coat rack and grabbed her jacket along with Blair's and threw it to her.

"But you said Trev cast a spell of protection," Blair said.

"He did, but something still feels off. We really need to go back out there and we need to go now."

"Boots this time," Blair reminded her. "The path will be slippery with the snow."

Her warning proved true as they slipped and slid along the path.

"The air smells odd," Stasi commented, as they grew closer to the end of the stand of trees.

Blair wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, it smells almost like dead fish."

They stopped short at the sight before them.

"Yowza." Blair whistled softly.

"This is really not good." Stasi felt her stomach sink all the way down to her toes.

They stared at a barrier that was no longer invisible to the naked eye. Now it stood crisscrossed with lines of dark green and gray, while the blue ring Trev had conjured was cracked, broken in places, and covered with splashes of black as if a strong fire had burned it. The normally placid surface of the lake was showing whitecaps, even though there was very little wind. Stasi and Blair kept their distance as they walked around the lake and found the blue ring in the same condition all the way around.

"That was the most powerful spell I'd ever seen and it was destroyed as if a first year student cast it," Stasi whispered, as they walked back to the house. The minute they stepped into the kitchen they grabbed more coffee to warm up. "Something's very wrong and I think we need help."

"Agreed."

Stasi glanced at the coffee-pot-shaped clock and noticed the time. Her first thought was not to open the store, but she knew she had to keep on as if nothing was wrong. "I'll call Jazz today. I'll also try Maggie. Her gift is protection spells."

Blair nodded. "I'll do some research on the retrograde and lunar eclipse and see if it does have anything to do with this."

"It's October first, town decoration day, remember?"

Blair groaned, then brightened up. "That's right. Jake said he'd help us set up the heavy stuff."

"Yes, Blair, think of the important things," Stasi said dryly before heading to her bedroom to get ready.

When the women went downstairs and around to the front of the building they found a lot of activity going on. While the town's main street wasn't long, it featured shops geared for tourist trade and always decorated for holiday occasions. Men stood on ladders arranging orange twinkle lights over store windows and doors, while men and women wearing western clothing busied themselves decorating windows and setting out carved pumpkins, scarecrows, and hay bales. The few empty stores were draped in black and decreed to be the sites of a famous gunfight or a gruesome death. Wilson Carruthers, now in a battered hat, wore wool pants and a flannel shirt sporting a blood-spattered front where he'd been "shot." With his matted beard and dirty face, he looked menacing and perfect for a haunted town.

Stasi had chosen a simple soft pink and blue plaid skirt and pink cotton blouse under a matching plaid fichu with a delicate cameo pin attached to her collar. Her felt spoon bonnet matched the blue in the plaid. With the snow on the ground, she opted for thermal tights to keep her legs warm and wore ballet flats. She had pulled her hair up in a simple knot with a black lace snood covering the bun. She had kept her makeup to a minimum, using only a hint of blush and a lightly tinted lip balm.

"I always liked that outfit on you," Blair said, going for the dramatic with a midnight blue velvet riding habit and flat brimmed hat with a matching veil. A few stray curls teased her cheeks. The full skirt was looped up over her wrist, she held a riding crop in her left hand, and wore black riding boots. She looked down at Stasi's full skirt. "But you took the hoops out."

"I did it as a matter of self-defense. I hated hoops even back then. It seemed every time I sat down they'd fly up and smack me in the chin. I added a little 'extra,' " she held up her fingers to form quotes, "to make it look like I'm wearing hoops."

Blair rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we don't want Agnes's Fashion Police coming after you. Although, I bet she won't be wearing a steel-boned corset or hoops."

"I don't know how we functioned back then."

"I don't know how I managed to ride sidesaddle for so many years and not fall off." Blair grinned. "At least we're not in the era where we'd be wearing a bustle. They were almost as bad as wearing hoops."

"Ladies." Jake sauntered up dressed in his usual jeans and flannel shirt topped by a denim sheepskin lined jacket. A worn cream-colored Stetson and battered cowboy boots finished his look.

"Morning, cowboy," Blair purred, batting her lashes. "All you need is a horse."

He doffed his hat. "Thank ya kindly, ma'am. Looks like you could use one too."

"Shows what you know. Riding sidesaddle isn't as easy as it looks."

"You've ridden sidesaddle?"

"Just once on a dare," she said, in hopes of covering up her gaffe. "Last time I visited one of those horse farms in England."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd be the type to ride."

Blair's smile grew larger. "Depends on what I'm riding."

"Could we keep this conversation G-rated, please?" Stasi begged, not sure whether to laugh at her friend's less-than-subtle flirtation or punch Blair in the arm.

"Maybe I better get to moving the heavier decorations out of your storerooms," Jake suggested.

"Good idea," Stasi agreed. She turned when two women wearing what had been called camp dresses from the Civil War era walked in their direction, carrying bags from Fresh Baked Goods. "Ladies." She inclined her head.

"Martha, Jeanine." Stasi's smile dimmed as the women abruptly crossed the street and didn't bother to acknowledge them. She turned to Blair. "What's going on?"

She frowned. "I don't know, but it doesn't feel right."

"Miss Romanov, do you want me to help you put your lights up?" a boy asked, also dressed as if he'd lived during the town's beginnings.

"Thank you, Tyler, we appreciate your offer." She smiled back.

"Tyler Madison, you get back over here!"

He snapped to attention. "Mom? I was just helping-"

His mother ran over, grabbed his hand, and glared at Stasi as she pulled her son away.

"You stay away from my son," she hissed, dragging the protesting boy off.

Stasi was stunned. Blair swore under her breath.

"Ladies." Trev walked up, looking twenty-first century in jeans and a rust colored sweater topped with a dark brown leather jacket. "Don't you two look as if you'd stepped out of a history book."

"You've been to the lake again," Stasi said, noting his grim features.

"What? No, I saw the two of you being snubbed." He turned to Stasi. "What about the lake?"

"Whatever kind of magick powers you may think you have, the barrier shattered the spell you cast." She went on to explain what she and Blair had found earlier that morning.

Trev's features darkened even more. "No one and nothing should have been able to interfere with that spell."

"Maybe not everyone reads your rule books," Stasi snapped.

"Good one," Blair muttered.

Trev held up his hands. "Truce. Tell you what, let me string those lights for you, then I'll go take a look at the lake."

Stasi was tempted to refuse his offer. She knew Jake would be only too happy to help them put up the lights. Or they could even use magick and have them up in a wink, but they tended not to use their power too obviously.

"It's for both shops," Stasi said. "And we accept your offer." She noticed someone else she had considered a friend crossing the street rather than approach them. The snub hurt a great deal, but she wasn't about to show it.

While Trev busied himself checking the orange and white twinkle lights before stringing them up, Stasi set out period underwear in the display window, showing a corset, crinolines, and bloomers along with a few lace-edged chemises popular in the late 1800s. She draped a string of pearls along the bottom shelf and arranged a silk fan and two tiny embroidered silk purses there also.

Blair put out toys from that same time period, including two porcelain dolls with ringlet curls and silk dresses, a set of soldiers dressed in blue and gray, and various pull toys. The center of the display was an old-fashioned rocking horse. A discreetly placed sign in a corner explained that the items on display weren't for sale.

Trev studied her window. "Serious collectors would kill for those."

"They can try, but it won't do them any good. I have a few people who come up here every now and then hoping to buy some of the antiques I refuse to give up."

"Such as Felix," Stasi said. "Her Kit-Kat clock. It's just as well, since few would understand why their clock would talk to them. Most of this we only bring out for special occasions."

Trev looked around, seeing tourists stroll down the sidewalk, stopping at some windows to look in at the shop owners in their period dress. It looked like any other day in the small mountain town, but the three could feel the shifts of unnatural energy in the air and the awareness that something was very wrong and needed to be corrected before something truly bad happened.

"I don't like this." Stasi rubbed her hands along her arms.

"Did you call Jazz and tell her what's been going on?" Blair asked.

"I left her a voice mail and asked if she'd come up early." Stasi felt a strange p.r.i.c.kling sensation along the back of her neck. "Excuse me." She held a handkerchief to her lips as she hurried into her shop.

"Oh no." Blair grimaced.

"What's wrong?" Trev felt torn between following Stasi to see what was wrong and seeing what he could learn from Blair.

She looked around, then leaned in. "Stasi lived in Salem Village from 1691 to 1693. She was a companion to an elderly widow." She nodded at Trev's shocked expression. "It was pure luck she was never accused, because many thought she was too pretty and too sweet and witchcraft must be involved. Alda Gibbons, the woman she worked for, lost her husband to the sea. He was a ship's captain, and his ship went down during a storm on the return trip from England. When the accusations began, Stasi knew it would look worse if she left, so she dampened her powers as much as possible and kept a very low profile. Luckily, the town respected Alda and I believe that helped Stasi. But still, she was there during that terrifying time and she's refused to erase those memories."

Trev ducked his head. "Excuse me." He turned to Stasi's shop.

When he went inside, he found her seated on the high-legged stool behind the counter. She had taken off her bonnet and sat there with her head resting on her arms. Horace squatted next to her, stroking her arm and muttering words in a long dead language. His wings rustled together with a raspy sound. Bogie floated around her, whimpering and moving in to offer comforting kisses. And then there were those red hearts mocking him.

"This isn't Salem, Stasi," he said quietly, leaning across the counter to rest his hand on her head. He inhaled a faint scent he knew to be wholly her own.

She lifted her head a fraction of an inch. "Blair told you."

"She's worried about you."

She groaned. "I will turn her into a pigeon."

"Fearful people do strange things, but mortals are a lot more advanced nowadays."

"Sure, they hire wizards to sue witches. Hic!" She glared at the bubble that floated in the air. Bogie nosed it and it disappeared.

Trev chuckled. "You seem to do that a lot when I'm around."

"Go away. Hic!" She slipped off the stool and headed for the stockroom.

Trev followed her partway and watched her pull a bottle of water out of a small refrigerator.

"I'm going out to the lake and take another look around," he announced. He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. "Have dinner with me."

She stiffened. "I thank you for helping us, but don't you think our having dinner out would be wrongly construed if Carrie found out?"

"The only one seeing it that way is you." He took a step forward. "Have pity on me, Stasi. I really do hate eating alone."

"I've seen the looks women around here give you. You wouldn't be alone for long. The Sit 'N Eat is your best bet. I won't say Ginny will protect you, but she'll make sure you have a hint of privacy. But if you feel brave enough, try Grady's. It's more a honky-tonk at night, so you might have to fight for your dignity."

"Then protect me."

She sighed. "You won't stop, will you?"

He grinned, aware he was wearing her down. "No, I won't."

"I close the shop at six."

"I'll pick you up at seven." He left before she had a chance to change her mind.

Trev zipped up his jacket and tucked his hands in the pockets against the frigid air as he took the trail around Stasi and Blair's building. With the snow and patches of ice on the ground, he was grateful he wore hiking boots appropriate for the rough ground.

"Not a good day for a walk."

Trev stopped and looked over to see the town handyman standing near the back steps. His shearling-lined jean jacket was b.u.t.toned up against the cold and Trev envied the dark-haired man's flannel-lined jeans. He wouldn't have minded a pair of those right now.

"I have to admit that when I want to kick back I'm more tempted to head to Tahiti or the Caribbean for scuba diving and wind surfing," Trev agreed, echoing the man's relaxed stance. "Blair doesn't know the truth about you, does she?"

Jake grinned. "That woman is so smart and so quick-witted, but I have to say there's times she totally drops the ball."

Trev grinned back. "You ever plan to tell her?"

Jake looked off into the distance. "I'm sure the time will come, and she'll want to kill me on the spot for keeping it from her. Some relationships aren't meant to progress too fast. I know she's interested, and I feel the same, but for now, it's kinda fun this way." He moved forward, walking with Trev. "What about you and Stasi? Even I can see there's something brewing there."

"Wizards and witches don't make a perfect pair," Trev said simply. Even though there was a time-honored edict that wizards and witches don't mate, there were still red hearts floating over Stasi's head, along with a matching set over his, but Trev didn't feel like going into details.

"I'm sorry your spell didn't work out at the lake," Jake said, walking beside him.