Bad to the Crone Read online

He ignored the question. “These are the township offices. There’s also a library, but the books in there are as bad as the books in the coffee shop. If you need land deeds, this is the place to go. The woman behind the counter is friendly and helps without getting into your business.”

  I couldn’t hide my amusement. “Do you often need land deeds here?”

  “You’d be surprised.” He kept walking. “This is one of three cemeteries within the township limits,” he volunteered. “There’s another out on the highway. It’s smaller, but you’ll probably find yourself there as well.”

  I was confused. “Why does a town this size need three cemeteries?”

  “You’re just asking yourself that?”

  “I ... well ... yeah.” It hadn’t occurred to me even though I’d noted the locations when I was riding through on my way to The Rusty Cauldron. “That seems weird.”

  “Hawthorne Hollow is a busy place,” Gunner explained. “There’s a reason you were sent here. It wasn’t simply because Rooster whined and they capitulated.”

  “I didn’t assume that, no matter what you think.”

  “Well, that’s good.” He sighed and dragged his hand through his hair. “I think we might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. You have attitude with me, and it’s probably deserved.”

  “That’s because you have attitude with me,” I shot back.

  “I’m simply not good with new people.” He lowered his voice and glanced around, averting his gaze when an elderly woman kneeling next to a tombstone in the cemetery excitedly waved at him. “People have attitude when it comes to Hawthorne Hollow. Some, like yourself, can’t seem to help themselves. I’m defensive, which isn’t a good thing.”

  I scratched the side of my nose. “Is there a reason everyone seems to know you?”

  “Give it a few days. Everyone will know you, too.”

  “Maybe. But you seem to be popular.” The woman kept waving, almost frantically so. “Why is that? I mean ... are you a local celebrity on your downtime? Also, if you don’t wave back at that woman she’s going to break a hip or something.”

  He groaned but slowly turned in the woman’s direction. The half-wave he offered made me smile. “Hello, Mrs. Kapinski,” he called out. “How are you today?”

  “I’m just fine, dear,” she replied, exhaling heavily and finally dropping her arm. “How are you? I saw your father a bit ago. You’re starting to look more and more like him.”

  I had no idea who Gunner’s father was, but he obviously didn’t like the comparison. Still, he kept his manners in check and nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Kapinski.”

  It took everything I had not to burst out laughing at his hangdog expression. Instead I merely pressed my lips together and waited.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he started.

  I seriously doubted that. “I’m not thinking anything.”

  “You are.” He made a face. “You’re thinking that I’m popular with certain members of the population. I can’t help that. I grew up here. Everyone knows me.”

  Things slipped into place. “You grew up right here in Hawthorne Hollow?”

  He nodded, morose. “I did. The town is small. You’ll be a familiar face in days. I’ll always be one of the prodigal sons. I left for a bit and came back. I thought I wanted to get away, but ultimately that turned out not to be true. I’m a Hawthorne Hollow boy at heart … and I’m loved here.”

  “That’s not a bad thing,” I pointed out, falling into step with him as he turned the corner. We were heading along a residential street, although I had no idea why. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed.”

  “I’m not embarrassed.” As if to prove himself, he changed the subject. “Most people here take pride in the town. They keep up their lawns and don’t leave trash lying around. That’s probably different from the city.”

  “Only some parts of the city,” I clarified. “People have pride in their homes wherever they live. There’s always going to be a good or bad element. That doesn’t come from where you live but rather who you are.”

  “That’s a fair point.”

  We lapsed into easy conversation, mostly about the town. I was curious about how Gunner fit into this specific town, but I figured that would become obvious after a short amount of time. He led me in a big square, and before I realized it we were on a path cutting through some rather thick woods and looked to be heading to nowhere.

  “What are we doing out here?” I wasn’t exactly nervous — I’d been in enough fights for my life that I barely batted an eyelash these days when things popped up — but the change in the scenery was cause for alarm. I wasn’t exactly a woodsy girl. I preferred urban streets, as I said.

  “This is a shortcut you should know about,” Gunner replied. “You can bring your bike down this trail. We’ve smoothed most of the ruts. On the other side of the trees you run smack into the parking lot at the back of the Cauldron.”

  “Oh.” I was momentarily chagrined. “That’s a good tip.”

  He smirked. “I didn’t bring you here to do anything untoward. In fact ... .” He slowed his pace and reached over to snag my arm when I didn’t follow suit. “Wait.”

  I was already moving ahead of him when I sensed a hint of movement to my right. My instincts took over and I dodged to my left, narrowly escaping when a thin creature — one that looked like a moving twig with leaves for hair — threw itself at me.

  “What the ... ?” I cursed under my breath as I overbalanced and tipped to the side. I hit the well-worn pathway hard enough that my breath was momentarily knocked from my lungs.

  “It’s a spriggan,” Gunner announced, drawing a knife from a sheath on his belt. I hadn’t noticed the weapon earlier, which made me feel stupid. He was obviously ready for something to happen. This was another test, one that I’d failed miserably.

  “I have no idea what a spriggan is,” I gritted out as I glared at the creature. It had gnarly long teeth and its hands boasted three fingers. “I’m assuming it needs to die, though, right?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Gunner growled, dodging when the creature lashed out at him. “I’ve got it.”

  He was doing that manly “It’s my job to save a woman” thing. It grated even though I was out of my element.

  “No, I’ve got it,” I countered, unleashing a smattering of magic from my fingertips and shoving it as hard as I could in the direction of the spriggan. “You just sit there and look pretty.”

  The magic flowed freely and smacked into the creature with such force that the spriggan was knocked back on its heels. The creature’s eyes went wide as — at the exact moment of impact — fire exploded from the magical tendrils I slammed toward it. The creature screeched as it instantaneously went up in flames.

  Gunner was moving to stab it with his blade, but he had to rear back to keep out of the way of the fire. “Hey!”

  I merely shrugged, calling back the magic so the flames died. The spriggan collapsed on the ground, a charred mess.

  “What did you just do?” Gunner asked, his face pale. “I ... what was that?”

  I wasn’t expecting the question. “Magic,” I replied simply. “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”

  “I thought you were a hedge witch,” he countered. “That’s what you said.”

  “I also said I was a hereditary witch,” I reminded him, accepting his hand when he reached out to pull me to my feet. “I’m more than one thing.”

  He worked his jaw but didn’t back down when I regained my footing. My chest was parallel to his and he searched my face for answers he apparently didn’t feel he was getting. “What kind of witch was your mother?”

  “I don’t know.” That was the truth. “I already told you I don’t remember anything from before I was five or so. It’s simply not there.”

  “Or maybe you’re too traumatized to remember,” he offered.

  “Maybe, but ... it doesn’t matter. I’ve known about my magic since I was a kid. I don�
�t know where it came from, but I can do more than most other witches I’ve come into contact with.”

  “I can see that.” Gunner let loose a sigh as he glanced at the dead spriggan. “You handled that well.”

  “It was just a tree with a mouth.”

  He smirked. “It was more than that, but ... I guess we don’t have to worry about you taking on your new environment. You handled that well.”

  “Yes, I’m a masterful witch,” I drawled, moving back to the path. “Were you really going to stab that tree?”

  “I don’t have fire magic. That was my only option.”

  “I guess. Still, it doesn’t seem very prudent. I ... .” I was feeling full of myself, enjoying the fact that he was impressed. I was so caught up in what I was saying that I didn’t pay attention to where I was walking and tripped over what I initially thought was a branch jutting out at the edge of the trees.

  “Oomph.”

  Gunner attempted to grab my arm to save me, but it was already too late. I pitched face forward and hit the ground for the second time in less than ten minutes. My ego didn’t like the bashing it was taking.

  “Well, that sucked,” I complained, rubbing my shoulder to attack the small jolts throbbing through it. “I thought you said this path was clear.”

  When Gunner didn’t immediately respond, I forced myself to shift so I could look at him. He wasn’t focused on me. Instead, his eyes were pointed at an object on the ground.

  What I initially thought was a tree branch turned out to be something else entirely ... and it made my blood run cold.

  “Is that a ... leg?” I swallowed hard.

  He nodded as he dug in his pocket for his phone. “Yeah, and it’s attached to a body.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to see anything else. “Is it a human?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did he die?”

  “Badly.” He hit a button on his phone and pressed it to his ear. “I need to report a dead body,” he announced when someone picked up on the other end. “I definitely don’t think it was natural causes.”

  Three

  It was hardly the first body I’d come into contact with. You couldn’t be in my line of work — monster hunter extraordinaire, for those still asking questions — and not see bodies.

  Still, mere hours after landing in my new home, seeing the body was something of a jolt.

  “The police are on their way,” Gunner announced as he knelt next to me. His expression was hard to read, but I thought I recognized sympathy and worry rolling around in the depths of his eyes.

  “That’s good.” I worked overtime to calm myself. I wasn’t the sort of witch who panicked in the face of danger. “It’s a man.”

  “What?” Confused, Gunner shifted. “What do you mean?”

  I gestured toward the body. I was still on the ground, no longer sprawled but not on my feet either. I couldn’t make myself look away from the body no matter how hard I tried. “It’s a man.”

  Gunner slowly shifted his gaze to the body. “Yeah. The facial features are obliterated, but it’s very clearly a man.”

  That was a harsh way to put it. Obliterated. I wasn’t sure how to respond. “Do you recognize him?”

  Gunner arched an eyebrow. “Should I recognize him?”

  “You’re Hawthorne Hollow’s favored son.”

  He scowled. “That doesn’t mean I recognize every resident,” he pointed out. “I mean ... his face is kind of gone.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Whoever the man had been in life was a mystery. The features that had defined him — eyes, nose, lips, cheeks ... even his brow ridge — were gone. It was almost as if someone had purposely tried to remove his identity, which I found interesting.

  “I don’t see any tattoos or anything on the skin that’s visible,” I noted, rolling to my knees as I studied the body more closely. “Fingers are dirty, as if he’s been working outside, perhaps in a garden or something. The clothes are relatively new, though, and not something you would wear when doing yard work.”

  Gunner stared hard. “What are you getting at? Are you suddenly a detective?”

  I shrugged, noncommittal. “I’ve simply seen my share of bodies. They’re prevalent in Detroit ... and it’s not always because of the job.”

  Gunner’s expression softened. “Oh. I ... yeah, I can see that.” His eyes lingered on me for a beat before moving to the body. “We don’t have a large indigent population. There are one or two people who have taken over abandoned homes. It’s not easy to live up here if you don’t have gas and power in the winter. It’s too cold.”

  That hadn’t occurred to me. Michigan was known for brutal winters, but they mostly occurred in the Upper Peninsula and north of Bay City. The southern part of the state saw snow, but it was nowhere near the levels Hawthorne Hollow was probably used to. “So, you’re saying this is a local,” I supplied as I hunkered lower to stare at what should’ve been the man’s profile. “Huh.”

  Gunner slid me a sidelong look. “Huh, what?”

  “Nothing. It’s just ... weird.”

  “You think it’s weird that the body has no face?” He was incredulous. “Well, isn’t that convenient? We finally have something we agree on. I think that’s weird, too.”

  His tone set my teeth on edge. “Is there something you want to say to me?” I felt I’d been more than patient. He was trying to agitate me, but I had no idea why. “You’ve been up my butt since I got here.”

  He made a face. “I most certainly haven’t been up your butt. That is just ... stupid.”

  “What would you call it? You haven’t been friendly.”

  “I didn’t know that was a requirement of the job.” He planted his hands on his narrow hips. “You’re the one who flew into town with an attitude. Don’t think I didn’t notice. You can’t turn things around on me now and expect me to simply absorb the responsibility for your attitude.”

  He was daft. There was no other way to explain his reaction. “Attitude? What attitude? I’ve been nothing but pleasant despite the fact that I’ve been forced to move to a town the size of a postage stamp.”

  “There!” He jabbed out a finger. “That right there. You’ve had attitude about the town since you landed and I don’t appreciate it.”

  “I have not!” I was offended on behalf of ... well, people who were often offended for reasons they couldn’t identify. I honestly had no idea why I was so worked up. His need to jump on me for no apparent reason rankled. “I haven’t said a thing about this town.”

  “You might not have said anything, but you’ve wrinkled your nose left and right during the entire tour,” he shot back. “It’s unpleasant ... and disrespectful.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t wrinkle my nose.”

  “Oh, please. You’re the poster girl for mothers everywhere who say, ‘Your face is going to freeze like that.’ I bet your mother said that to you a million times when you were a kid because of that face you make.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I don’t remember her.”

  He stilled, the simple statement taking the wind out of his sails. “I ... that’s neither here nor there.” He recovered quickly and shook his head. “I’m being serious here. You’ve had attitude since you landed and I don’t appreciate it.”

  “I have not!” Even as I barked the words I couldn’t stop myself from mentally going over my demeanor since I’d hit town. I was almost positive I hadn’t said one negative thing. Sure, I’d thought them — this wasn’t exactly my dream assignment, after all — but I hadn’t said a single word. “I think you’re worked up because you have a complex about the size of the town. That probably ties into your complex about the size of other things.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Listen here, I ... .” Whatever he was going to say died on his lips when a large figure appeared on the path behind him.

  Instinctively, I leaned forward to shove him out of the way so the shadow that was closing in on us wouldn’t be able to attack him
from behind. Confused because I was attempting to touch him, Gunner caught my wrists and glared.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he complained. “This is a no-touching zone.”

  “She was trying to save you from me,” the interloper announced, causing Gunner to jerk in surprise as he turned and frowned.

  The newcomer was probably in his mid-fifties, perhaps early-sixties, if I had to guess. He had salt-and-pepper hair and wore a uniform that declared him Chief Stratton. The name accompanied by a badge and a weapon secured to his utility belt told me all I needed to know. The police had finally arrived.

  “I’m sorry.” I breathed heavily as I recovered. “You simply took me by surprise. I didn’t hear you coming.”

  And that was a problem all on its own. Why hadn’t I heard him coming? My senses were generally over-tuned and I heard things that weren’t necessary ... or important. I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t sense when someone who posed a potential danger was approaching.

  “You could’ve made a noise,” Gunner complained, releasing my wrists as he focused on the man. “That’s the polite thing to do.”

  “I don’t remember agreeing to be polite during our interactions,” the chief shot back. “I mean ... was that in an agreement I signed and forgot about?”

  Gunner let loose a weary sigh as he dragged a hand through his hair, leaving it more of a mess than when he started. “No. I simply didn’t hear you. I ... you surprised me.”

  “I don’t think it was me being sneaky that caused you to forget where you were.” The man’s eyes were heavy as they landed on me. “Who’s your new friend?”

  “No one,” Gunner answered automatically. “She’s not important.”

  And he thought I was insulting. I straightened, murdering him with a dark look before focusing on the chief. “My name is Scout Randall. I’m new in town.”

  “Oh?” Stratton didn’t look impressed as he arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize Hawthorne Hollow was getting a new resident.” The look he shot Gunner was accusatory. “I wasn’t informed that I should be expecting anyone.”

  Now it was my turn to be confused. “Is there a reason you should be informed?”