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The interior of the farmhouse seemed like a slice of Americana, except for the elements that were clearly designed for its magical inhabitants. The deep-set fireplace housed a cauldron, the kitchen shelves were heaving with glass jars filled with herbs, and a black cat draped itself along the windowsill, its tail dangling above the sink. The strong scent of alcohol lingered in the air, and I wondered whether Penelope had been overindulging before I arrived. The thought of a drunk witch with a shotgun unsettled me.
“Make yourself at home.” Penelope inclined her head toward the rectangular wooden table. Despite the smell, she seemed steady on her feet and stone cold sober.
I pulled out a chair, one of six. “How many witches live here?”
“Six. All family.”
“Are you the only witches in Fairhaven?”
She sniffed. “The only ones worth knowing. You live alone, is that it?” she persisted. “Don’t want unwelcome suitors turning up at all hours?”
“That’s certainly one reason.” There’d be no suitors. I made the mistake of trying to date a few years ago; I started and ended with a vampire by the name of Balthazar. Neither one of us seemed sure whether he was amenable to my requests because he genuinely liked me or because I was inadvertently influencing him. In the end, it didn’t seem worth the confusion, and I ended things.
“It’s hot out there. Care for a cold drink?”
“No, thank you.” I didn’t trust her not to lace it with some sort of truth potion and wheedle my secrets out of me.
Penelope settled in the chair across from me. “How big is your property?”
“Bigger than this one,” I said.
“I’ve got five acres.”
“As much as that?”
“Most of it’s behind the house. There’s even a pond.”
“Not koi, I imagine.”
She grimaced. “Good grief, no. What do you take me for? We did have a group of turtles for a bit, but they’ve been gone for months now.”
“They migrated to another body of water?” Fairhaven seemed to have no shortage of water sources.
Penelope seemed disinterested in the fate of the turtles. “Couldn’t say.”
“I’ve never known a witch who kept her own chickens.”
She studied me. “How many have you known?”
“Enough.” I met her inquisitive gaze and was struck by the color of her eyes; they shone like two newly minted pennies.
“What’s your budget?” she asked. “Wards don’t come cheap, and we could use the money.”
It seemed Kane wasn’t wrong about the meager lottery winnings. “I was hoping we could come to an arrangement. I’m short on cash.”
Penelope grunted. “Of course you are. Well, we’ve been dealing with troubles of our own. I’m not sure I can spare the hands if it’s not going to be worth our while.”
“What kind of trouble? You haven’t lost any witches recently, have you?”
She rested her elbows on the table’s edge. “What makes you ask that?”
“I heard about a local girl that went missing.”
Penelope blew a gunmetal curl from her eye, and it bounced straight back into view. “Wouldn’t be the first one, but no, we haven’t lost any of ours, thank goddess.”
“There have been other missing girls?”
“I’ve heard rumors of vampires trafficking young women in and out of Fairhaven.” Her expression soured. “I steer clear of bloodsuckers as a rule, though, so I can’t help you with any details.”
