Page 19 of Grimoires & Glamoury

Ruth had fresh tears in her eyes—but now they were happy ones. “Thank you, Dex! You’re an angel.”

“All I ask, is that I stay anonymous as the benefactor, and that you set up a new bank account for the ball—at a different bank,” he said. “And make sure that no one person can make any withdrawals going forward.”

“Done,” Ruth said. “I’ll make sure it takes at least two people. Maybe three. In fact, how would you like to be a Witches Ball committee member?”

Dex appeared to think that over. “I could do that.”

“Good.” Ruth nodded. “We need a male perspective anyway. Too many females all bickering over decorations and what sort of food to serve in the buffet.”

“Now you’re just trying to scare me,” Dex said straight faced, making Ruth laugh.

“Dex actually has some family experience with society events,” I said, tongue in cheek. “I’m sure you won’t find a better man for the job.”

“Really?” Ruth asked. “Your people have society connections?”

Dex nodded. “I’m trusting you to keep that fact in the strictest of confidences,” he said to Ruth. “Otherwise, it’ll blow my brooding, tough-guy image.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” she said, giving him another hug.

“Thanks Ruth,” he said.

“It’s settled then,” Ruth told him. “Tomorrow morning we’ll go to the bank and set up a new account for the ball.”

***

By the time I got home I was beat. Dropping my purse on the kitchen table, I toed off my shoes, nudged them toward the back door, and headed for the bedroom. Changing into a pair of schleppy shorts and an old T-shirt, I pulled the ponytail holder from my hair. Then I took off my glasses…and flopped face down onto my neatly made bed with a groan.

“What a day,” I said into the pillows.

And I stayed there, while my mind went back over the events of the day.

I couldn’t shake the worry that Fae magick was involved in the missing book and that young man’s death. What if they’d figured out that the grimoire was finally out of Montgomery’s warded library and had rushed in to reclaim it? Montgomery had said the death was violent, and I knew from personal experience the Fae were ferocious when provoked. The chaos of the murder scene and getting energetically shoved out like that had left me feeling uneasy. Could the Fae have left some magick behind and that’s what I’d run into?

Eventually I had to move, because my stomach decided that it was starving. After pushing myself up to my elbows, I slipped my glasses back on and sighed. Rolling over, I stood from the bed and scrubbed my hands through my hair. A tired yawn overtook me, and I made my way to the kitchen hoping that I had something—anything left in the fridge to warm up quickly for supper.

It was either going to be leftovers that night, or I’d settle for a bowl of cereal. Anything else seemed like far too much trouble. I was scowling at the contents of my fridge—jeez I needed to meal prep on my day off, or something—and had resigned myself to a bowl of cereal, when there was a knock at my front door.

“Alexa,” I said to the monitor on the counter, “show me the front door camera.”

The screen flashed to life and what I saw there had my jaw dropping in surprise. Charles Montgomery was standing on my porch, still impeccably dressed, and he was holding a couple of boxes of pizza.

“You have got to be freaking kidding me!” I said under my breath.

He looked up at the security camera and gave me a mocking sort of salute. As if he could hear me.

Turning on my heel, I stalked to my door. After unlocking it, I whipped the front door open. “Did you get a second job delivering pizza?” I asked sarcastically.

“Hardly.” He raised one eyebrow at me. “Would you believe that I was in the neighborhood?”

I snorted out a laugh. “No.”

“With the new developments, I felt we should talk again.”

“Clearly word about the theft of the Witches Ball funds has reached you.”

“It has. But I felt you could give me the more pertinent details.” He shifted the boxes. “Be a shame if the pizza got cold. Especially since we never ate lunch today.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered. “You are a pushy SOB aren’t you, Montgomery?”