Don't Hex with Texas

Page 33

As we drove away, I noticed the kitchen curtains moving and knew we were being watched. Mom and Granny probably thought we were off for a big, romantic night, but except for the one moment when he’d put his arm around me, he’d been acting anything but romantic. He seemed almost as distant as if he were still in New York rather than right there beside me.
“I guess we’re heading to the square,” I said when the silence in the car grew oppressive.
“No, that’s too public for a meeting. It takes too much power to conceal something that complex.
We’re meeting somewhere else.” It was my hometown, but he seemed to know his way around already, turning onto side streets without hesitation. We pulled up in back of the town’s Catholic church, where a lone gargoyle sat on the roof ridge. He swooped down to join us.
“Ah, that’s more like it,” Sam said. “I need a little recharge from perching on a church every so often.
I was afraid if I sat on that courthouse much longer, I’d turn into a lawyer. So, what’s the plan, boss?”
“You haven’t been able to identify our culprit?”
“Hey, Katie-bug here’s the local.” He turned to me. “You know the townfolk. Did old Prances in Robes ring a bell with you?”
“There wasn’t anything particularly distinctive about him—or her. I guess it would help if he’d walked with a limp or had a certain gait that looked familiar, or maybe wore personalized cowboy boots under his robes so they showed when he took a step. I don’t think I even saw his feet.”
“What’s your assessment of our local wizard?” Owen asked Sam.
“Pretty basic magic. Really rough, not a lot of power or control. I’m most worried about him using magic as a pickpocketing tool.”
“Yeah, that does put things closer to the dark side, which isn’t a good introduction to magic,” Owen mused. “I’m curious to see these lessons and how well they work. We don’t often see people learning as adults.”
“How do people learn they’re magical?” I asked.
“It’s an inherited trait, so parents are generally magical and then they know to look for the signs in their children.”
“But what if someone slips through the cracks and doesn’t find out that they’re magical? Couldn’t that happen?”
“I suppose there might be someone with latent magical talent out there who never knew. Families can drift apart and lose traditions, and if they’re not in a place with strong power lines or other magical people for them to learn from, they might not ever realize what they’re capable of. I imagine that’s what we’re dealing with here, someone who figured out he could do strange things that were useful and is enjoying the power.”
“Which is what we gotta put a stop to,” Sam growled. “It ruins things for all of us if some wacko goes out and shows off.”
Owen took my hand then, and shivers went all up and down my spine—not the magical tingle I had from Sam’s veiled presence. I heard a car drive by on the adjacent street, more slowly than normal.
“That’s the third car in the last few minutes,” Owen said. “They can’t see Sam, but what they do see looks like us having a deep conversation.”
I was all for giving them a show, but holding my hand seemed to be as far as Owen was willing to go at the moment. “By this time, my mom will have already heard that I’m with a guy in back of the Catholic church.”
Owen turned back to face Sam, and I saw that the gargoyle’s stone face was etched with amusement.
“We’ll check around and see if someone shows signs of being our culprit. You keep an eye out for magical activity and let me know if anything else happens.”
Sam saluted him with one wing. “Got it, boss.”
As we got back into the car, Owen said, “If you’re showing me off around town and introducing me to people, that gives us an excuse to talk to any suspects. Do you have any suspects?”
“Not many. There’s this weird guy who used to be Teddy’s friend. Mom swears he made the pharmacist give him his prescription for free. I’m still not sure if that’s another one of the magical things she spotted or if that one’s all in her head. Frankly, I can’t see him working hard enough to learn how to do a real spell. If he flunked out of A&M, he’s not going to be able to learn magic. Then there’s Sherri, I guess, but she’s not the magical kind of witch.”
“This isn’t witchcraft we’re dealing with, anyway. It’s entirely different.”