"Right now? There's no prep work or ingredients you need?"
Violetta snorts. "You're confusing me with a sorcerer. I don't need ingredients to make a spell work. Besides, I know you well enough and have a general idea of how you think so it won't be as hard for me to navigate your brain as it would be a stranger's," she muses as she walks around the counter.
Bailey turns in her bed to watch the action. It always feels a bit weird when my dog turns to watch me. It doesn't matter what I'm doing, outside of eating, having her undivided attention makes me uncomfortable. I never know what she's thinking, or if she's judging me based on some dog decorum standards. Pushing those thoughts aside, I face Violetta straight on.
"Concentrate on that closet. If you hear my voice in your head telling you to turn a certain way or concentrate on a certain thing, do your best to follow it, as I'm seeing things through your eyes. Memories don't really work like a 3D space. I can only see what you saw. Ready?"
It's a rhetorical question. Violetta has no intention of waiting for me to say I am not ready. Her hands reach up and two delicate fingers run through my hair on either side of my temples and Violetta's face hovers inches away and I stare into her large luminous eyes.
"Close your eyes and imagine the closet, Jas. " Her voice is soothing like something off a relaxation tape.
I close my eyes, hoping I'm not making the wrong decision here. I force myself to concentrate, first stepping into the grimy bathroom, then noticing the door. Once the secondary door was open, I hesitate before entering the dark space in front of me. I know the small closet has nothing actively disturbing in it, no dead bodies or tools of mutilation, but that doesn't mean I want to walk in. Gritting my teeth, I step forward and go through the motions of turning on the light and stepping inside. This time when I look at the wall inside this magic enhanced memory, everything is fuzzy around the edges.
"Would you look down please, do a thorough scan of all the pictures," Violetta's calm voice instructs.
I lower my gaze. Even in this magic-induced memory, I can't put any other names to the faces I am seeing.
"Okay, turn to the next wall." There is a sliver of sharpness to Violetta's tone this time.
I wonder if there are faces she recognizes. I do the same thing as before, scanning the photos, including the ones of us, and she murmurs wordlessly under her breath. Once I scan the photos again, slower the second time in hopes Violetta gets what she needs, I turn to the third wall of mostly notebook paper with symbols scribbled across them.
"What do the notebook pages say?" Violetta's voice is even sharper.
"I have no idea," I respond with a sigh. "I could not understand them. They weren't any language I recognized."
As I speak, I step forward to get closer, but the pages are blurrier than the pictures. I'm willing to bet because I didn't understand the language or code my memory didn't really commit those swirls and lines the way it had the photos.
Violetta lets out a soft curse. "I will get none of that from your memory. Dammit, this means I have to go back to Blake or someone above him in order to get more information. I really wanted to avoid that."
I don't respond, since she's talking more to herself than to me.
Several breaths go by until she sighs as if she standing directly behind my right ear. "All right, I guess this is all I am going to get so wait a beat then open your eyes."
The world around me blurs and fades away until I'm simply looking at the light of the shop through my eyelids. It's a weird transition and I take another breath before opening my eyes, it's disorienting.
"What's the verdict? How many of those people have items in the auction?"
Violetta lowers her hands and steps back around the counter. Bailey follows my ex-fiancée with her gaze, not interested enough to get up from her cushioned bed.
Once Violetta is on the other side of the counter, she folds her arms. "All but one or two of them have items in the auction. There was one face I couldn't quite make out. Either you didn't commit it to memory or there wasn't enough lighting. But I knew or could identify the rest. They gave me photos of everyone with items in the auction when I took the security gig. I don't like this, Jas. I have to tell Billy that extra security might not be enough if this much work is going into following all the people that have items for sale. I still don't understand why anyone would follow these people. Unless they're trying to take the items for sale before they go up for auction. Except me that is." She pauses, tilting her head to the side and pondering a moment. "I don't have anything in the auction. So that begs the question: was the skin walker following me or you?"
We are both silent for a few seconds before she focuses her eyes and looks back at me. "Thanks for the help, Jas. I need to get in contact with Derek and Billy. I'll see you this weekend at the auction." Waving, Violetta turns and heads out of the store.
Watching after her several beats I can't help but wonder if bringing the eighth of Geyser’s journals to what could already be a troublesome situation is the best idea.
Chapter 2
It doesn't matter how many auctions I've been a part of. Okay, this is really only my third, but it feels like more. Each of those three times I've been surprised by the hustle and bustle in a seemingly disorganized way Billy runs auctions. There are always assistants with headsets running around, scooting past people, with a general look of dismay or panic on their faces. I'm still not sure why there's panic on their faces, but I just try to stay out of the way.
When Billy called me back yesterday and I told him what I want to add to the auction, he practically giggled his glee. On principle I almost backed out, but I don't want to hold on to the eighth journal longer than necessary. So, I held my tongue and brought the book along with the compact to the large warehouse Billy houses all of his West Coast auctions outside Fall City.
I arrived early, as I don't want to deal with too many people during the check-in process, even though it means getting here at eight a.m. I suck it up, pour food for Bailey, and head out. My beloved rottweiler doesn't do more than shift her face to watch me from her perch on her thick orthopedic bed. While I want to believe she ran for the door and whined at my absence, I'm willing to bet she went back to sleep and won't get up unless Reggie, my weekend employee, grabs her to keep him company in the shop for the day.
As I approach the side door, I'm given a wary smile by a blonde pixie, her glamour making her appear about five feet tall. I can see through magical beings’ glamor to what they really look like. I have to tap a ring I have on my left hand in order to see the image they're portraying to the world. She is barely four and a half feet tall in reality. Her thin, sharp-edged little wings are folded behind her, so no one accidentally knocks into them. Her pale, teal-colored skin is a few shades lighter than the long, cascading locks on top of her head.
"Good morning. How can I help you?" she asks warily.
Clearly the pixie is new, a surprising number of supernatural beings know me on sight. Since I don't recognize her either, at least I don't have to feel guilty about not knowing her name.
"Jas Bond, owner of Fix 'n' Find."
Her eyes widen a touch, but her expression doesn't change beyond that as she eyes me up and down. Before making a tick mark with the pen, she scans the small clipboard in her left hand. "Feel free to head on in. Jenny will tell you where you can put your items." She motions to the reusable bag I'm dangling from my left hand.
"Thank you so much." I don't bother asking her if she's going to check my ID. Someone a lot more ornery than me will chastise her for it. I move past her and head into the back side of the warehouse.
When I go through the large, heavy door, the door to the office spaces for the employees is ajar. To my left are some black curtains covering what I'm sure were items that people delivered ahead of time because they were too big or coming from out of town, or for any other number of reasons. I keep moving forward down the large makeshift hallway, my steps echoing every time my
shoes hit the concrete.
An elf turns the corner, glancing my direction before a more personable customer service smile slides onto her face. "Mr. Bond, early as always." Jenny brushes her long straw-colored hair over her shoulder and walks toward me.
I salute her with my right hand holding my coffee cup and takeout food bag. "Good morning, Jenny. Where can I hunker down?"
Jenny looks at my large coffee with a hint of amusement on her face until her eyes hit my reusable bag carrying the compact and the Geyser’s journal. Jenny is Billy's second-in-command here on the West Coast. She runs a lot of the day-to-day operations, so there's no doubt in my mind Billy told her what I was bringing.
"Let's go put your stuff in the storage area first, shall we?" She motions back toward the curtain I passed on my way in.
She pulls back the curtain as we reach the edge and walks through. The curtain opens to a large area with shelves, a heavy duty safe, and a smattering of objects in multiple sizes skewed about the space.
"Your items will go in the safe," Jenny comments as she steps into the area and heads toward the massive metal box in the far corner.
I follow her, hesitating a moment as I cross the threshold. Mere inches from where the black curtain covers the space is a protection spell similar to a shield around all the protected items. Only people without the intention of stealing said objects can walk through it. Even though I can't do magic, I can still sense it sometimes. This barrier spell always feels like walking through Jell-O to me. I set my face in a grim line and step through. Jenny doesn't wait for me to go through the invisible barrier, but instead is unlocking the safe. I step in behind her and as it opens, I slide my reusable bag into an open space. Several other books and more expensive items are already taking up residence in there.
I let out a low whistle. "Is that the sword of Dwarphania," I ask, wonder plain in my voice at the jewel-encrusted short sword on the shelf below where my grocery bag now sits.
Jenny makes a noise as she shuts the safe door. "It is. We have a ridiculous amount of expensive or rare items this time around. Billy is practically salivating, thinking about how large his cut is going to be."
"Yeah, I hear you guys hired extra security," I comment.
Her frown deepens, and she looks at me for a moment, almost as if she's recalculating whether I'm a threat. Then her eyes lighten and she smiles more genuinely. "That's right, you and Violetta Harker used to be a thing. I always forget about that." Her smile crinkles the skin around her eyes.
Unsure whether I should be insulted or uncomfortable or if I should respond at all, I split the difference and shrug.
"You were looking for somewhere to hunker down until the auction starts. Follow me. I will take you to where we set up a handful of tall tables for people to hang around. There won't be anybody around for at least another hour but if memory serves, I don't think that matters to you too much." She gives me that smile again like she was noting some secret I didn't mean to tell her.
Again, I don't respond and follow her down the long hallway, down the back of what would be the stage Billy would present the items on. When we reach the other side of the back wall, Jenny motions to a small section of tall and short tables, all of which are currently empty. "Go and take a seat. Feel free to wander around toward the exhibition area if you wish. As usual, the show starts at one and people start filing in at ten so be back here by then and we shouldn't have a problem."
She gives me another one of those smiles before turning and heading back to whatever she was doing before I derailed her with my early entrance. I go toward one of the tall tables and slide onto the stool, putting my coffee and small breakfast bag on the table. When I open the bag to grab the Kindle I am storing in there, the smell of fast food permeates my senses. My plan is to sit here until I finish eating and read; I want to read for fun and not interact with anybody. Grateful for the break and to not have to worry about my hundred-pound pet scarfing food off the table when I'm not looking, I turn on my Kindle and begin reading as I enjoy my breakfast.
Chapter 3
"And could you believe it? There it was, clear as day, standing in the middle of the backyard after we'd been searching the entire house for the cat. Sometimes I think my girls would lose their heads if they weren't screwed on." The large man with a Stetson on the table in front of me guffaws as he finishes his story.
I give a polite but strained smile. I got an hour of peace until Violetta came in, saw me reading, and checked in before leaving again. But as the space became more crowded with all the sellers of the magical objects in today's auction, seats began filling up and apparently there is only so far a frown and an e-reader will get you. The large Texan sat down about fifteen minutes ago and I'm not sure he’s paused for breath since.
Through his entire story I keep hoping he will find a reason to leave or find somebody else to talk to so I can read in peace. I don't want to say that I'm antisocial, but I spend a lot of my day talking and being polite to strangers and that takes a toll on social skills the rest of the time, or at least that's what I always tell myself. If I'm honest, I've never really been terribly social, even as a kid.
As the man launches into some other random story involving his children, a flicker behind him gets my attention and I glance away from his large mustached face over his shoulder and my eyes widen.
"Is that on fire?" I ask with disbelief.
"What," the man asks with equal disbelief, pivoting around to see what I’m watching.
A few yards away from us, the lower half of one curtain surrounding the back corner of the stage is covered in flames. I wasn't the only one to notice. Several people are now walking over to do something about it. I'm not about to volunteer to help put out a fire. Billy and his people are well and truly prepared for any kind of incident, and I'm not about to get in the way and only make things worse.
The young pixie from earlier comes running with a fire extinguisher and two elves, whose names I don't know, are trying to use a spell to put out the fire, or at least I assume they are using the spell for that. The fire extinguisher appears to be working better than whatever magic the two other women are spewing.
"Who the hell set that on fire?" Billy's voice comes booming from the other side of the three women.
The goblin is clearly pissed. Not that I blame him. The doors are already open for bidders, so the number of occupants in the building makes evacuation tough. He rounds the corner and glowers at everyone.
Not unexpectedly, no one responds.
"That fire didn't set itself," he growls, scanning the space again.
When still nobody answers, he pivots to the three employees who put the fire out. "Did any of you see anything?"
The young one with the fire extinguisher fidgets under his gaze, and all three of them shake their heads.
"No sir," comes the now-weak voice from the younger woman. "I just saw the flames and ran to grab one of the fire extinguishers. Both Emily and Astrid were already here by the time I got here with the extinguisher."
When Billy looks at the two identical twin elves, they both shrug.
One of them waves her hand to the curtain. "We were walking by and saw the flames. We both began working a spell to keep it contained. We didn't want to risk running to get an extinguisher if it spread too fast. The hope was to keep it contained until someone else grabbed the extinguisher."
Billy eyes all three of them before he harrumphs, folding his arms across his chest and motioning with his head for the women to go back to what they were doing.
"If it was magic that set it, I might be able to trace it back to someone or something." The cool, somewhat aloof tone is what Violetta uses when surrounded by other supernatural creatures. The attitude is what people expect from the members of her family.
"Do it and get back to me once you have some kind of answer," Billy responds gruffly before heading in the same direction as his three employees.
As Violetta moves up to the curtain, she
waves her hands. Less interested now, the crowd disperses. After several anti-climactic hand waves didn't produce an immediate result, people stop watching Violetta all together and go back to what they were doing before. Much to my disappointment, the Texan turns back to me, opening his mouth to launch back into another story. I brace myself to listen to more about his children than I could ever possibly want to know about anyone's offspring. But before even one word could leave his lips, another sound gets my attention.
"Fire!" yells an unidentifiable female voice from some distance away.
"Yes, we know. Astrid, Emily, and Evie took care of it," comes another more agitated voice.
"No, another fire," responds the first voice again, more frantic this time.
A loud energetic buzz erupts as people begin running toward where the voice is yelling. This seems super counterproductive to me, but I have to admit a certain amount of relief when the Texan gets up and follows the crowd.
"Fire! Fire! Evacuate the building." This time, a male voice is screaming at the top of his lungs.
Violetta looks over at me, frowning. There are only a handful of people around us now and she stops what she's doing and runs toward the voice. I don't follow suit. I'm not about to get trampled in a stampede or have something equally terrible happen because I am stupid enough to run toward a fire. I quickly snatch up my e-reader and jacket and head toward the door I entered earlier this morning.
By the time I get near the exit they are funneling people out. Once outside, I move across the side alley to stand next to the neighboring warehouse. I want to be as far out of the way as possible and have a good head’s up if I have to make a break for it to the parking lot.
Soon there are more than fifty people milling about in the alley between the two warehouse buildings. The crowd is buzzing with theories and I'm grateful when no one approaches me to hold any kind of discussion. Being a magical son of a witch sometimes comes in handy. As a supernaturally adjacent being with no magic, I tend to be ignored unless somebody needs me in my capacity as the Fix 'n' Find's owner.
Antique Absconding Arsonist Page 2
