A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the lump in her throat. “Kammy told you?”
    Leslie quirked her lips. “Telepath. And safe?”
    “No yelling.” Mandy leaned against the island. “Need any help?”
    “I could use a dish washer.” Alma dropped spoonfuls of dough on a cookie sheet.
    “Ah, man.”
    “You asked,” Leslie said. “’Scuse me, Grandma. Kettle.”
    Alma waved her off and continued to work.
    Leslie scooted around Alma’s wide backside to place the kettle on the stove.
    “We could get a real dishwasher.” Mandy walked around the island and moved the dishes out of the sink, onto the counter.
    “And waste all that good money?” Alma demanded. “Oven.”
    Leslie stepped aside and opened the oven door. “Ready.”
    “Excellent, love. Thirteen minutes, if you please.”
    “Done.” Leslie closed the door to the oven and programmed the timer.
    “Can’t figure that damned thing out,” Alma said, preparing a second cookie sheet. “I keep tryin’. Just can’t get it figured out to save my life.”
    “This is the exact stove you wanted.”
    Last week, Mandy had set fire to the stove in a fit after Tyler had thrown a temper tantrum, breaking glass over her head. Then, Alma had dug in her heels on the oven replacement, stressing exactly which one she’d wanted. How Leslie hadn’t killed the whole lot of them was beyond Paige.
    “Okay.” Leslie turned and leaned against the counter, folding her arms over her chest. “Spill. What happened in Denver?”
    Paige bounced Kammy, trying to figure out where to start. Leslie knew some of the big stuff. She, however, was giving Paige the chance to fill Alma in. Tactful.
    Alma’s silence pissed Paige off. Alma had known—about the shifters, about the treaty—but hadn’t told anyone, leaving Paige to stumble through what could have been a very deadly situation all the while looking like a complete dumbass.
    “Well,” Dexx said, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting, “let’s start with the fun stuff first. Vampires. They’re real.”
    Alma froze.
    “And shapeshifters,” Paige continued, watching her grandmother.
    Alma didn’t blink.
    Leslie frowned, a worried frown on her face as she watched Alma. She kept her tone perky. “Seriously. They’re real.”
    “Very real,” Paige said.
    Dexx grimaced, oblivious to the tension building between the Whiskey women.
    Alma knew something. Paige read it in her silence, in her lack of surprise. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Paige wanted to rattle her, to get her to react. “Tony’s a vampire.”
    “Tony,” Alma said finally. She flexed her hand around the spoon. “Your partner.”
    Not a ruffle.
    This had all been a supreme surprise to Paige, and this revelation didn’t even get so much as a frown?
    Leslie nodded. “I remember you telling me that one. And you had a reaper helping, too?”
    Alma blinked, surprise relaxing the wrinkles around her lips.
    Paige wanted to wring Alma’s neck. That got a reaction? “Jack.”
    “Who’s that again?”
    “Special Agent Jack Scott.” Though, why she was sharing information when her grandmother wouldn’t, Paige didn’t quite know. She scanned the room for the playpen and spotted it. She couldn’t throttle her grandmother with a baby in her arms.
    Kamden squawked at her.
    Paige narrowed her eyes at the baby. Darned telepath. “FBI. He joined us on the Louisiana case because he saw people die before it happened.”
    “Ah,” Leslie said, her expression wide. She shrugged, gesturing to Alma with one hand, a question on her face. Apparently, she didn’t understand why Alma was remaining quiet either. “That’s so Minority Report .”
    “I wish. No.” Would asking Alma bluntly give them any answers? The woman was stubborn. Whiskey family freakin’ trait. “Reaper. Just that.”
    “Huh. So, you’ve met death.” Leslie sighed quietly, leaning against the counter, a frustrated frown on her brow as she glared at Alma. “What do you think of him?”
    “He’s kind of a