Andy didn’t react right away, but something about his demeanor changed. Some shift in tension, or maybe his attitude. I felt the give deep in my bones, instinct telling me we’d shifted onto better footing. It could have been wishful thinking, but I decided to hope anyway.
“We’ll need surveillance,” Andy said slowly. “Every organization has a structure. Based on what I know, Flint is probably self-sufficient in a lot of ways, but even someone who uses cats’ paws to do his bidding will show some sort of pattern. With surveillance, we can learn his routine, learn who he goes to for what.”
“Oh, we’ve got surveillance.” I smiled at Peasblossom.
The pixie’s pink eyes glittered. “We have an army of surveillance.”
Scath twitched her tail from side to side. She didn’t seem as excited as Peasblossom, but there was a definite spark in her green eyes. It lifted my spirits to see it, and it was almost enough to make me forget Morgan’s warning about her.
Almost.
“But we can’t let him know about any of it,” I warned. “And right now, he can order me to tell him everything.”
“But if it was my case, and I brought you in to consult…”
“He’s already given me permission to help you. And when I do, I’m allowed to sign a nondisclosure agreement.”
“Another thing he never should have allowed,” Peasblossom pointed out.
She was right, but we had to take this one step at a time. Andy retrieved one of our contracts from downstairs and I signed it.
“You should know something, Andy,” I said, suddenly remembering. “Flint has been tracking you. I don’t know if it’s on your car or if he’s tracking your phone, but that’s how we followed you to the bar.”
The paper in Andy’s hands crackled as his grip tightened. “Good to know.” He rolled his shoulders, forcing some of the tension from his muscles. “I’ll start getting a plan together. I already have some ideas.”
I smiled, but then it faltered. Having a plan was all fine and good, but just because we were looking into Flint, didn’t mean we’d find answers. And even if we did, who knows what we’d find in the process? Flint could have his hand in all manner of unpleasant enterprises. Enterprises that might be hard for Andy to look away from.
Andy walked me to the door. I paused, looking over his shoulder at the ghosts. His mother looked so worried. And his father was obviously doing his best not to show any emotion at all. They’d heard everything. And it seemed like they had the same concerns that I did.
“You know,” I said slowly. “You’re not alone. Your parents cared about you very much. They still care about you.”
“I know.”
I hesitated. His parents had helped him before. They’d kept him stable. Maybe they could still give him that support. “They can still help you. If you let them.”
Andy started to nod. Then suddenly he seemed to remember I was a witch. He seemed to realize that maybe I wasn’t just reciting harmless platitudes.
He froze. “What… What are you saying?”
I nodded behind him. “They’re here, Andy. I’ve talked to them. And they’re worried about you.”
Andy jerked his head around the room, taking in the broken figurines. The color drained from his face, making him look like a child who’d been caught standing in the ruins of a bad temper tantrum. And he sort of had.
“She’s not mad. She’s just worried about you.”
Andy nodded, the movement too fast, too jerky. He turned to face the ghosts, following my gesture. I could tell when he saw them by the change in his posture. The way he stood a little straighter, jerked forward as if fighting the urge to run to them. He stopped himself and looked back at me. “Could I have some time?”
My heart eased in my chest, and I breathed a little easier. His mom looked nervous suddenly, as if she hadn’t been ready for this. His father mirrored Andy’s posture, standing straighter. Ready to talk to his son.
“You can see them?” I asked.
Andy nodded.
My smile widened. If he could see them, then his mind was more open to the Otherworld than I’d thought. He must have had some latent talent, some sensitivity before he even met me, and now it was blossoming. If he could see them, talk to them, then he was going to be all right.
“So do we think Flint’s going to be happy the artifacts were destroyed?” Peasblossom asked as I got into the car. “Or is he going to be really angry?”
I stared at the dark road ahead and tightened my grip on the steering wheel. “Only one way to find out.”
Chapter 27
The apartment was dark when I opened the door, but the tension that shot through Scath told me we weren’t alone. My talk with Andy echoed in my head. Everything we’d discussed about our plan to investigate Flint replayed over and over until I was almost afraid he would overhear it. I put the keys in the bowl on the kitchen counter and opened the cupboard to get a mug without turning around.
“Success?” Flint asked.
I didn’t jump. Goody for me.
I could tell from the direction of his voice that he was sitting on the couch opposite the front door. A strategic position. I could also tell he already knew the answer to his question. I put the mug down and walked over to the couch.
Flint’s expensive cologne tinged the air, teasing my senses, but not overwhelming. I reached over and tugged the chain on the lamp, filling the room with soft light. Flint’s hazel eyes contracted as the darkness fled, but they adjusted quickly.
I stood there looking down at him for a long minute, letting him get a good look at my damaged face. Reminding him what I’d been through. What I believed he’d predicted. Maybe not exactly. But he’d definitely known I’d get hurt. Badly.
“I did my best,” I said, keeping my voice low and even. “But the artifacts were destroyed. Simon used them, and the dragon melted them down to try and save him. It didn’t work,” I added.
I watched him carefully, ready to look for any sign of emotion that might give him away. The scrutiny wasn’t needed. The emotion that bathed Flint’s face was intense, uninhibited. He didn’t try to hide his pain. It was all there in the way his eyes glistened and he hunched forward as if I’d punched him in the stomach. He took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. Without standing, he shook his head.
“Did you even try?” he asked softly.
“I told you I did my best, and I meant it. I let Simon use the artifacts, as ordered.” I curled my hands into fists. He wasn’t hiding his emotions. I wouldn’t hide mine. “You know I wouldn’t have done that if I had a choice. And I tried to stop the dragon from destroying them.”
“What prevented you?”
I didn’t look at Scath.
Flint did. He snorted and shook his head. “Of course.” He leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees, shoving his hands through his hair and messing up the “bed head” that he must have spent so much time perfecting. “And who was it that suggested destroying the items?”
“It was me,” Peasblossom said vehemently. “I told them it might help Simon.”
Flint’s shoulders drooped, and he dropped his hands from his head, clasping them in front of him. “How much did the wizard tell you about those artifacts?”
“He said the Unseelie used them to pass power on to adopted children.” I hesitated, then decided there was no point holding back. “He told me your Seelie father kept them after your mother’s death. Instead of giving them to you, he gave them to your stepbrother.”
The mention of his father squeezed Flint’s shoulders, tightened every muscle in his body. I watched him force his muscles to relax bit by bit.
“The Unseelie value strength. Not just in the short-term, but the long term. We go out of our way to procreate outside our species, to consistently bring in new blood. It’s why we’re more powerful than our arrogant Seelie cousins. Artifacts like the ones you’ve been dealing with allowed us to keep our bloodlines strong. It allowed us t
o pass on our power, our heritage, to children even when the child wasn’t sidhe. Or only half-sidhe.”
He rubbed his face, took another deep breath. “When my mother was killed, those artifacts should have come to me. Instead, my father ran back to the Seelie court and used them to buy his way into a new marriage.” He snorted. “Hypocritical bastards. They claim to want to keep their bloodlines pure, but they know it’s costing them power. And instead of admitting it, instead of acknowledging that they need new blood, they pretend to hate it. They use marriage to an Unseelie as punishment so they can pretend they would never have lowered themselves to lay in an Unseelie bed, all the while benefiting from the new bloodline they create.”
He looked away, swallowed hard. “My father used the artifacts on my Seelie stepbrother. Gave him a taste of his bloodline—my bloodline. And then, as an added insult to me, my stepbrother had the items cursed. He poisoned them, then handed them out to humans.” Flint scoffed, staring into space. “He wanted to give them to easy targets. People I could steal them from. Take with no effort at all. He wanted me to humiliate myself chasing humans all over the world, getting back my mother’s things. And in doing so, suffer further humiliation.”
It was all as Jim and I had guessed. “That’s why you wanted them stolen and returned.”
Flint closed his hands into fists. “I wanted to make it clear that I had nothing to do with the thefts. I wouldn’t lower myself to playing his game. No one would have believed I had nothing to do with the thefts, so I needed them returned.”
“But why let them be used? Why tell me the thief had to get away with it?”
“A warning to other thieves.” He hesitated, then sighed. “And to know what curses my stepbrother put on them.”
Once again, it seemed Jim and I had been on the right track.
Flint leaned back, sinking into the thick couch cushions. “Those artifacts were one of the last things I had of my mother’s. Tell me the truth. Did you really try?”
I met his eyes without flinching. “I did as the contract demanded.”
Flint smiled, but there was no pleasure in it. Just a sort of sadness. “That’s what I thought.”
He stood without another word. I felt a stab of guilt. Pity for his pain. As soon as I had the feeling, I tensed. This is how he wanted me to feel. I stared down at my lap, gathering my wits about me. A green light caught my eye, and I realized I had an unread text message. I fished my phone out. I had a message from Blake. The numbers I’d asked for.
I opened the message and scanned the numbers as Flint made his way to the door. Simon hadn’t made many calls the day he’d met with the handsome stranger. In fact, he’d only made one anywhere near the time he was at Shannon’s Diner. I typed the number into my phone, then looked at Flint. Holding my breath, I hit the call button.
Flint’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked down. He turned, a confused look pulling his eyebrows together.
“What is this?” he asked, raising his phone.
I thought about lying, but that would be a waste of time. Flint would just keep pressing, and the contract would demand I answer truthfully if he managed to phrase it right.
And he would.
“That’s not your number. But your phone rang when I dialed it. I’m guessing it’s one of those apps that generates an alternate phone number. So you can pass it out to people you don’t want to have your real number?”
Flint frowned. “Where did you get it?”
I met his eyes. “Simon.”
This time, there was no emotion broadcasting straight from the leannan sidhe’s heart. No pain, no anger. He shut down.
“Take some time off,” Flint said finally. “I’ll have another job for you soon.”
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t going to stand here and ask questions I wouldn’t get answers to. I’d have all the answers I needed in time.
Flint opened the door, and suddenly his back went so rigid I felt a stab of sympathy for his spine. Scath’s ears pricked forward, and I rose from the couch, leaning to the side to see what had riveted their attention.
A woman stood outside the door. Her hair was a beautiful shade of blonde that looked gold when the light caught it, and it was long, falling past her waist, brushing the back of her thighs even in a ponytail. She wore casual human clothing, but I’d have bet my last tea bag it was glamour. She didn’t look like the jeans and T-shirt type.
She smiled at Flint, and that smile seemed to make the room brighter. Literally brighter. Seelie sidhe.
“Flint Valencia,” she said sweetly. “It’s been a long time.”
Flint didn’t say anything. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, holding his arms out so the woman could get a look at his bare chest. The movement was so sudden, so unexpected, that I couldn’t stop my eyes from traveling over all that bared skin, the smooth lines of ink that I knew more about than I wanted to. I clasped my hands in my lap, fighting a sudden urge to reach out and touch him.
Blood and bone, I hate leannan sidhe.
He did a slow turn, giving the woman a brief glimpse of his naked back. The stranger stared hard at his exposed skin, but it wasn’t sexual, or even appreciative. She clearly didn’t feel the same urge to touch him that I did. Damn her eyes.
No, she was definitely looking for something. The wrinkle between her brows said she didn’t find whatever it was she expected to see. She reached forward and touched his chest, running her hand over his skin. Not that she seemed to enjoy the feel of his smooth flesh pulled tight over thick muscle.
Peasblossom pressed her hand against my neck, and the urge to touch Flint receded. I hadn’t realized I’d stopped breathing until I sucked in a breath, felt my heart was pounding. “Thanks,” I whispered to Peasblossom.
“Stupid leannan sidhe,” Peasblossom muttered.
Flint twitched as if fighting the urge to recoil from the blonde’s touch, but he forced himself to stand there and take it.
“Tell him it’s over.”
The crease between the blonde’s brows deepened and she dropped her hand from Flint’s body. He left without another word, angling around his unwanted visitor and vanishing out of sight. The woman stood there for a moment, staring after him. Then she turned to look at me. The light from the lamp reached out to make her violet eyes twinkle. “You are his witch, yes?”
I arched an eyebrow, then headed back into the kitchen for my mug. “For a few more months.”
The woman waited, but I didn’t invite her in.
“I am Nikita,” she said finally. “I’ve come here to learn the location of a set of artifacts. A bowl, a chalice, a knife. Do you know the set I speak of?”
“I do.”
“Where—”
“Destroyed.” I filled my electric tea kettle and plugged it in. “Melted down.”
The woman blinked, shock clear in her expression. “Melted down? You swear it? On your magic?”
“I swear on my magic that I witnessed the artifacts you refer to get melted down. Destroyed by dragon fire.”
“The items that belonged to Flint Valencia’s mother?” she pressed. “They had his family name—”
“Yes. The artifacts his father stole from him and handed off to his Seelie stepbrother. The ones his darling stepbrother used and then violated. Those artifacts.”
She blinked again. “How extraordinary.”
I reached into the cupboard for a tea bag. When I looked back at the door, the sidhe was gone.
“Someone knows the artifacts were activated,” Peasblossom guessed.
“I get the feeling she thought it was Flint.” I put the tea bag into my mug, inhaling the scent of Earl Grey. “Stepbrother wants to see if his nasty surprises worked.”
Peasblossom tapped her foot. “Is it just me, or did Flint seem to guess that’s why she was here?”
“He did.” I retrieved a spoon from the drawer, letting my mind wander over the evening.
I paused. An ide
a formed in my mind. I dropped the spoon on the counter and rushed over to the desk Flint had put in the middle of the dining room where a table should have gone. I grabbed a sheet of paper and a pencil and tried to sketch out the mark I’d seen on Simon’s cauldron. I’d only gotten a glimpse, but I remembered most of it. When I was done, I jabbed it with the pencil.
“Peasblossom, do you know what this mark means?”
She hopped off my shoulder to the desk and went to stand over the mark I’d drawn. “No. It’s not a regular rune. It looks like someone combined a few existing sigils to make a new one.”
I took a picture of it with my phone and sent it to Jim. Maybe the wizard could identify it. After all, Flint had “learned” his magic from wizards. After a second of thought, I sent a follow-up text asking if Jim preferred to be paid by check or cash for his work with the artifacts. Best not to owe a favor. And of course, I should probably pay him for his work before asking him to do more work. Agnes would insist…
“You think this has something to do with Flint,” Peasblossom said, as if reading my mind.
“Bear with me for a minute.” I went to the open door and stuck my head out, making sure Nikita hadn’t lingered to eavesdrop. Feeling a little paranoid, I did a brief sweep for magic, just in case she was using magic to hide. When I was sure no one was there, I closed the door and locked it. “What if Andy’s right? What if everything that happened is exactly what Flint wanted to happen?”
“You think he wanted the artifacts destroyed?”
I paced over to the tea kettle and poured hot water into my mug, my brain spinning with a new theory. “What if he wanted everyone to think they were destroyed?”
Peasblossom stared at the door. “You think he knew someone was going to show up when the artifacts were used.”
“And he was letting me see how upset he was to establish a disturbed emotional state. So when his guest arrived, he could storm off, dodging questions and leaving me to swear on my magic the artifacts were destroyed.”
Peasblossom’s eyes widened. “You think he spelled Simon’s cauldron. Maybe the artifacts weren’t destroyed, but just teleported somewhere else? If he knew they weren’t really destroyed, then he couldn’t lie about it. But you could.”
Betrayal Page 33
