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"Mr. Cortez is right," Abby said. "We all need to come together and help Paige in any way we can."
Silence.
"And on that note," I muttered under my breath.
"Cortez," murmured Sophie Moss who, at ninety-three, was the oldest witch in the Coven and fast succumbing to Alzheimer's. "I knew a Cortez once. Benicio Cortez. Back in '72, no, '79. The Miami affair. Horrible--" She stopped, blinked, frowned, then looked at Cortez. "Who are you, boy? This is a private meeting."
On that fitting note of mental acuity, the meeting ended.
After the meeting adjourned, Savannah walked over to Cortez as every other witch practically tripped over her own feet getting as far from him as possible. I was heading to the front of the room to join Savannah and Cortez when the Elders waylaid me.
"Now I have seen everything," Victoria said. "Your mother must be rolling in her grave. Hiring a sorcerer--"
"I haven't hired him," I said. "But I have to admit, I'm considering it. At least someone is offering to help me."
"A sorcerer, Paige?" Margaret said. "Really, I can't help but wonder if you're doing this to spite us. Even speaking to a sorcerer is against Coven policy, and you've obviously been doing that." She glanced toward the front of the room, where Savannah was chatting with Cortez. "And allowing my niece to do the same."
"Only because your niece is getting zero help from her aunt," I said.
Therese motioned for me to lower my voice. I didn't.
"Yes, I've talked to him. Why? Because he is the only person who's offered to help me. He got me out of jail today. You three couldn't even bother sending Margaret to the police station to make sure Savannah was safe. You guys don't seem to get it. You know I'm not the type who likes to ask for help, but I'm asking now."
"You don't need a sorcerer."
"No, I need my Coven."
"Get rid of the sorcerer," Victoria said.
"And then you'll help me?"
"I'm not making a deal," she said. "I'm giving an order. Get rid of him. Now."
With that, she turned and left, the other two trailing in her wake.
Cortez materialized at my shoulder.
"Perhaps you'd care to reconsider my offer?" he murmured.
I saw the Elders watching us. Victoria's glare ordered me to get rid of Cortez. The urge to flip her the finger was almost overwhelming. Instead, I did the figurative equivalent.
"You're right," I said to Cortez, voice raised. "We should talk. Savannah, come on. We're going."
I motioned for Cortez to lead the way.
We drove to Starbucks in Belham--taking separate cars, of course. After I'd parked, Cortez took the spot in front of me and still managed to be standing beside my door before I pulled my keys from the ignition. He didn't try to open the door for me but, once I pushed it open, he held it steady while I got out of the car.
Once inside, I ordered Savannah a child-sized hot chocolate. She changed it to a venti cafe mocha. I downsized that to a small decaf cafe mocha. She negotiated a chocolate chip brownie and we settled. Here this stuff was finally getting easier for me, and Kristof Nast wanted to spoil it all. Very unfair.
Although the place wasn't exactly booming at nine-thirty on a Sunday night, Cortez opted for a side room where the staff had already put the chairs upside down on the tables. As we headed in, the cashier leaned over the counter, a half-pound of necklaces and amulets clanging against the laminate.
"That section's closed," she said.
"We'll tidy up when we're done," Cortez replied, and nudged us back to the farthest table. Once we
were seated, he turned to Savannah. "I'm afraid this is going to be another of those very boring conversations. There's a magazine stand over there." He reached for his wallet. "May I buy you something to read?"
"Nice try," she said and slurped a mouthful of whipped cream.
