VenCo(47)

The Maiden read the text out loud.

The witches are going to see the Hawthorne Tender at Buzzards Bay, 2 pm EST



“All six of them?” the Mother asked.

“Doesn’t say.”

“Then ask.” The Mother was being short. She had spent the morning pacing in the boardroom, waiting to hear how recruitment was going.

The Maiden sighed and typed on her phone. There was a pause before a small ding.

All six are en route



“Excellent.” The Mother slid into her seat. “Okay, so they are together and on the move. It’s good that they are together.”

“Because of the Benandanti?” The Maiden wouldn’t let it drop.

The Mother made a kissing noise, and her dog lumbered over and put her head in her lap. She scratched behind her ears. “I am fully aware of your stance on this, but I cannot allow anything to slow them down. We don’t have time to deal with anybody’s feelings right now.”

“How about their safety?” the Maiden responded.

The Mother dropped a fist onto the table. Hecate whined and retreated to the corner, and the Maiden took her feet off the table and sat up. “We do not have time! I will tell them if he gets close. Hell, you can tell them. Just . . . not now. Am I clear?”

Just then the Crone walked in, smiling as she straightened out her blouse. She had come from the ladies’ room, where Israel was helping her with a “loose button.”

“Dieu. What is going on in here?”

“Nothing,” the women answered in unison.





18

The Tender of Buzzards Bay




Buzzards Bay wasn’t far. They slid out of Salem just after lunch and down the wet New England roads, taillights flashing red around the sharp curves between rock and salt water. No one had argued when Lettie said she would stay behind with Everett. As good as he was, he would still be a toddler confined to a car seat, and the work they had to go do was not exactly kid-friendly.

Freya was in the front seat of Stella’s Pathfinder, with Lucky at the wheel. Stella had climbed in back and drifted off before they hit the end of Meena and Wendy’s leafy street and was now softly snoring.

Freya watched her in the rearview mirror. “She’s awesome.”

“I guess.” Lucky readjusted the mirror. “If you don’t have to deal with her full time.”

“Some of us don’t have grandmas, so, you know, count your blessings and all.”

Lucky pulled her eyes from the road for a second. Freya was staring out her window, her feet propped up against the dashboard. She looked so young Lucky felt like she could be driving her to school.

“Aren’t your parents weird about you living here in Salem? Shouldn’t you be in class or something?”

“My parents are weird about me in general.” Freya picked at her nails, a nervous habit Lucky had noticed was aggravated when the subject of family came up. “Also, I graduated early. I was in a hurry to get the fuck outta anywhere they were.”

Lucky didn’t respond for a moment, focused on following Meena’s black Audi as it made the turns out of the suburbs and onto the freeway.

“Fuck.” Freya cursed under her breath. “You got a file or something?”

Lucky motioned with her chin. “In the glove box.”

Freya rummaged around and pulled out a hot pink nail file and began smoothing a broken nail. “If you’re a girl like me, it’s easier to finish high school online.”

“When did Meena’s crew come get you?”

“Not yet. I don’t want to tell that story—not yet.” Freya overly concentrated on her nail, grinding it down so hard Lucky could smell the burn.

The rest of the trip was comfortably silent, punctuated by Stella’s snores from the back seat.

Their destination turned out not to be some secret headquarters, but the Trout Tavern, a seafood-themed pub that had seen better days, perched near the water but not directly on it. The first two letters on the neon sign were blinking from a faulty wire so that it read out tavern more often than not.

“Be pretty cool if it was a gay bar,” Lucky remarked.

“Ha!” Freya laughed. “I wish. Nothing but old fishermen and young Republicans in these parts.”

They pulled into the mostly deserted lot and parked beside Meena’s car. Stella woke up on her own once the engine stopped. She was like a little kid that way.

“We home?” she asked a little too loudly, stretching her arms in all directions.

“Not even close,” Freya said. “But at least you can get a decent Bloody Mary here.”

“Deal. Order me two, Luck. I have to hit the little boy’s room.”

“I’ll go with you,” Freya said.

Lucky wasn’t sure why Freya was so good with Stella. Freya didn’t do nice, or even polite, but she seemed to have a soft spot for the old woman.

As if she had overheard her thoughts, Freya said, “I like authentic. Bitch is authentic.” Then she climbed out of the passenger seat and opened the back door for Stella, who was putting her shoes back on. “Let’s go, Don Wrinkles. I gotta pee too. Fuck the shoes. Who needs shoes anyway?”

Lucky sighed. Great. Stella would hold on to that one the next time Lucky tried to stop her from going barefoot. She leaned over the seat. “Hey, come on, you guys, it’s wet outside.”