Free Convicted Witch: Jagged Grove Book 1 by Willow Monroe

talk to somebody further down. I’ve been dismissed.
    I poke Angelo in the back with one clear-coated fingernail. When he turns around I say, “Who’s Rachel?”
    Instead of answering right away, he motions toward the shifter. “Trinket, this is Flux. He’s our fire chief here in Jagged Grove.”
    I smile. He’s a good-looking guy and fit, as most shifters are. Forty years old, give or take, and dressed in blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Thick blond curls lay over his forehead. “Nice to meet you.”
    His smile is bright. “You too...Trinket? That’s a pretty name.”
    “Thanks. You must have one of the most exciting jobs here in Jagged Grove. Do you like it?” I’m forcing this, because the drink is kicking in and I just want to go lie down somewhere.
    He laughs, showing his gleaming teeth. “I do, but you’re wrong about the job - it isn’t that thrilling. This is a pretty quiet place, as you’ll find out. Our last real fire was five years ago, when Portia’s coven accidentally set a hayfield on fire with ritual candles.”
    “Oh.” I’m not paying attention now though, because something has just clicked into place in my head. It’s the reason for Bilda’s acting out, and the reason for the sadness I saw in her eyes at times. I thought she missed Washington and being High Priestess, but now it hits me that she just misses being part of a coven. I don’t know how I know this, but I do, as sure as the dawn.
    I look around the room, which is getting noisier by the second, and smile at him again because he’s standing there waiting for an answer. “Quiet? I don’t know about that.”
    He laughs again. “You’ll see. Promise. Welcome to Jagged Grove. If you need anything give me a shout.”
    I smile and thank him, then watch him amble off to another table. “He seems like a nice guy.”
    “He is.” Angelo looks at his drink in surprise and then sighs. Then he leans forward on his stool until he catches Portia’s eye and waves her over. “Bring me a beer please, Portia.”
    She frowns at the odd-looking drink. “You sure?”
    “Yes. And stop it.”
    She slinks off to get him a beer and I look at him. “What’s that about?”
    He nods to the drink. “Love potion. She tries this every time I come in here.” He picks up the glass, stands up and leans over the bar to pour it...somewhere. I assume there’s a sink back there.
    When he sits back down, Portia brings him a Foster’s. She’s glaring, but we both ignore her. “Why does she do this, if she knows you won’t drink it?” I ask quietly.
    He looks uncomfortable. “I don’t know. She’s had a crush on me since I met her.”
    “That’s sweet.” I ignore the tiny twinge that I refuse to name. “She’s pretty.”
    He looks at me. “Her husband thinks so, too.”
    “ Oh . I see. Well, Flux seems like a nice guy.”
    “He is - he keeps me up to date on a lot of the news around here.” There’s a glint in his eye when he says it.
    “Any other notables here?”
    He looks around. “Well, see the tall, skinny girl? Looks a little out of place?”
    “Yeah?” She was perched in a chair with her hands clasped primly in front of her. She’s a sorceress, I think, although her energy is similar to a witch. In fact the only difference between a sorceress and a witch is that a witch relies on her connection to the earth to perform her magic, and a sorceress uses more spells, potions, and incantations. OK, actually, there really isn’t that much of a difference at all, except for the big one - sorceresses don’t always practice white magic, the good kind. Hence, the difference in energy. She’s dressed in lots of jewelry and a silk dress that is very fancy and very low cut for just a bar, but perfect for her coiffed blonde hair.
    “That’s Wisp, Rive Callahan’s daughter. He’s the mayor. I’m actually surprised she’s even here. She thinks this place is beneath her.”
    “So, spoiled rotten?”
    “Yes, but she loves her daddy