“I’d rather we wait until we were far away from here. It’s for your own security. This store isn’t safe. The Order of Salem is after you and your kin.”
“The what, now? Is that the people who threw holy water on me at the grocery store last week? I didn’t press charges. I just got a little bit wet. It’s fine.”
“No, Ms. Bishop.” The sheriff looked around and sighed, looking completely resigned. “I know you’re a witch. A descendant from Salem’s own Bridget Bishop who was killed in 1692. There is a group of people, calling themselves the Order of Salem, and their mandate, their entire reason for existing, is to completely destroy all of the Salem witch bloodlines. From what we’ve learned, your family is the first to be targeted because your ancestor was the first to be executed. They know, or in the very least, suspect you’re witches.”
“You’re high on something, mister,” Raven said, rolling her eyes. “There is no such thing as witches.”
The sheriff shook his head. “We both know that’s not true. I know my fair share about the paranormal world. It’s okay.”
Raven watched him intently. If the sheriff knew about the magic in her bloodline, was it possible that others had also figured it out?
“I assure you, Ms. Bishop. I know you’re a witch, just like the rest of your family. This is important. Please, let’s not pretend that supernatural don’t exist.”
Well, shit. There was no denying it since he was so adamant about it.
“Fine,” Raven sighed. “So what if I am? There is no way that anyone knows we’re real witches.”
Her words didn’t match the way her eyes were darting to the door or how her heart rate had seriously increased in the last few seconds. Raven might say she wasn’t worried, but she was lying. She knew that some people still held out a weird sort of hope that witches were real and could be killed. Her kind had always been chased down, and that wasn’t about to change.
Though she was fairly surprised this one particular threat had made its way up to the town’s sheriff, there was no way she was going to be scared or run out of town because of it. Her ancestors had been through that, but she wouldn’t bend or fold. She was a Bishop, and damn proud of it. If anyone thought attacking her was a good idea, Raven would use her magic to protect herself and her people. It was that simple.
That was something the sexy sheriff couldn’t possibly understand. Sure, he was a man of the law who had taken an oath to serve and protect the people of the town. But there was no way he could understand the stress that came from knowing that your family members had been prosecuted and killed merely for being different.
Raven was happy to be a witch, and she wouldn’t let anyone make her feel like it was bad to be who she was, to be born with special gifts. Not anymore, anyway. She’d drank that Kool-Aid and it hadn’t been good
It wasn’t like this was the first threat she had faced. When she’d been a small child, a few women had approached her, her twin, and cousins in the park, and they’d been particularly nasty. They’d also been from an organization that wanted to remove all traces of Salem’s witches from existence. It hadn’t gone anywhere, though, because Raven’s mom and aunt had intervened pretty quickly.
And then there was Arthur and his less than ideal reaction to her witchiness.
Because fucking a series of women behind her back had only happened after she’d confessed she was a witch. That’s what her asshole ex had said. Not that Raven believed him for five seconds. But the fact that Arthur had used her lineage as the reason for his cheating had stung. Cut. Burned.
“Others definitely know about the existence of real witches.”
She shook her head at him, but he went on, not giving her a chance to interrupt.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” he said, “but you really are a target.”
“Well,” Raven shot back, crossing her arms, “if I’m a target, then so are my sister and my cousins. Why didn’t you go to them?” Raven didn’t believe they would have been likelier to believe him.
“I have people going to each Bishop woman within the city limits. Your parents moved away, correct?”
“Yes, my parents and aunt and uncle live in sunny California now. They are also off on a cruise, so they’re safe from whatever Order is after us. So am I, by the way.”
Sheriff Cross’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “You really don’t believe me that you’re being threatened.”
“Hmm, no. I don’t think this is a real thing. We’ve been threatened before. Some holy water was thrown. I have had some vandalism to the store a few times, but nothing on my life. People aren’t as quick to kill witches as they were in the seventeenth century.”
“Oh?” It was his turn to cross his arms then. “Do you do much research on the murder rate?”
“Look, you’re here. You’ve warned me. Your officers have warned my sister and my cousins. That’s fine. We’ll take care of our own.”
“You can’t stay in Salem, Ms. Bishop. These people have guns and a kill list. This is very real.”
“I can’t stay in Salem? Look around,” she gestured to the store. “This is where my business is. This is my home. I won’t be run out. I need a hell of a lot more than a threat to make me go.” Hell, her break-up with Arthur hadn’t sent her packing. And neither would this half-baked threat.
“Am I going to have to put you under arrest to get you to come with me?” Sheriff Cross asked.
More laughter bubbled out of Raven.
“We both know you can’t do that. You came to warn me. I’ve been officially told about the threat. Now, if you could just go, I have a business to run. And I need to call my sister to make sure she’s okay and not off somewhere with one of your men.”
“Let me ask you this, Ms. Bishop,” Sheriff Cross took a few more steps toward her. “If the Order of Salem were to walk into the store right now, would you do magic to defend yourself?”
“Of course,” Raven answered without hesitating.
“And do you think your magic can save you from a bullet? Because the man in charge of the Order has a son. He’s the one who told us about the attack, and he mentioned that his father had multiple weapons and quite a few allies. All armed.”
Raven faltered. Her bravado might be misplaced. She knew she couldn’t deal with this alone. There was strength in numbers.
What she needed to do was call Cerise and come up with a plan to deal with this. There was no way she was involving the mortal cops in witch business. Even if the threat came from humans. As per usual.
Raven didn’t need the sexy sheriff. She could take care of her own. She’d been doing it all her life and the one time she’d trusted a man to be there for her, he’d disappointed her so hard she still hurt from it. No, Raven could and would handle whatever was coming without needing the sheriff.
Chapter Six
Zane
Raven Bishop stood before him, arms crossed, and delicate chin turned up. Zane could tell she wasn’t going to come with him easily. He was already standing close to her, closer than he probably should be, but he couldn’t help himself.