“Tell me when the temperature is to your liking,” he said to Peasblossom.
Peasblossom half fell off my arm, then lurched toward the mug. After about ten minutes and two more trips for hot water, they had her bath ready. Peasblossom climbed in and relaxed against the side of the mug with a happy sigh, and Bryan collapsed into his chair.
“Andy’s going to be fine,” I told him. “Trust me.”
Bryan rubbed a hand over his face. “I trust you. And it’ll be better this way.” He dropped his hand and leaned forward. “To be honest, he needed to know. There’s always been strange things that happen and we can’t explain them, but lately, they seem like they’re happening more often.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be the only one who notices anymore, the only one who sees the possibilities.”
“Strange things?” I asked.
Bryan nodded. “Little things. Like interviewing applicants and seeing their eyes change color. Or a guy without a trace of drugs in his system scale a fence in a leap a mountain lion couldn’t manage.” He leaned forward. “I do background checks on people who apply for jobs here. That means a lot of digging, a lot of research. I’ve seen these things on tape. Showed them to agents. They still don’t see it. They don’t see what’s right in front of them.”
I nodded sympathetically. “That’s how the human brain works. It’s impressive, really. Most people aren’t ready to see the Otherworld, and their minds avoid or reinterpret the evidence to reaffirm the normalcy of the world.” I smiled. “We can’t all be bitten by a kobold when we’re young. Your belief is a little more…substantiated. Even some of the people in Dresden don’t believe I’m really a witch and only call me for help because they think I’m a doctor.”
The reminder of his childhood introduction to the Otherworld drew Bryan’s attention to his arm, and he rubbed it even though you couldn’t see the scar beneath his shirt. “I guess.”
“Bryan, where—”
We both froze as the door opened and Andy walked back into the office. He came to a screeching halt, his gaze locking on the pixie bathing in the coffee mug. Peasblossom didn’t stop scrubbing the blue stuff from her skin, but she looked up when he entered.
“Do you have any soap?” She scowled and tugged at a thick blue strand stuck to her elbow. “I’ll take dish soap if that’s all you have.”
Bryan rose halfway out of his seat, but Andy stopped him with a look.
“No,” he said. “No, don’t move. Don’t. Move. Just sit there. I’m going to…” He shook his head and pointed at Bryan and me in turn. “Don’t move.”
He left. I looked at Bryan and couldn’t help the smile that came over my face. “I suspect you won’t be the only believer for much longer.”
Five minutes later, Andy returned. He had a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, a notepad under one arm, and a bottle of Dawn dish soap in the other hand. He paused in front of the table as if centering himself, then leaned forward and added a drop of dish soap to Peasblossom’s cup.
Peasblossom beamed at him. “Thank you, Andy.”
“You’re welcome…”
“Peasblossom.”
He pressed his lips together then nodded. “Peasblossom. And you are a…?”
“Pixie.”
“A pixie.” He nodded a little faster this time. “All right.”
He took a big sip of his coffee, and if the hiss that followed was any indication, he’d either forgotten it was hot, or had thought the temperature mattered less than it did.
Been there.
Then he collapsed into his seat, planted the coffee on the desk with a determined thud, slapped the notebook down, and reached into his pocket.
“All right,” he said, not making eye contact as he drew a pen from his pocket. “Tell me—”
The sentence died as he realized he’d grabbed the pen I’d spelled. He studied the glowing plastic for a long moment. Without a word, Bryan picked up a pen from the cup on the desk and offered it. Andy took the new pen and let Bryan have the glowing one.
“You’re a witch,” Andy said. “Name?”
“Shade Renard.”
I watched in amusement as he wrote on his notepad, Shade Renard - witch then Peasblossom - pixie.
“And the ghost you mentioned.”
“Mrs. Miller. Helen Miller, your missing person.” I paused. “Only she’s not missing. She’s dead.”
“And you know she’s dead…because you saw her ghost.”
He pressed the pen to the paper, as if trying to force it to write something it didn’t want to. Then he put it down.
“Perhaps you should start from the beginning.”
I assumed he meant the beginning of my involvement with the case, so I started with Bryan approaching me with his concerns. I told him about Mrs. Miller’s ghost, how she couldn’t speak. After only a brief hesitation, I told him I’d looked into her clients and found one that wasn’t human. I thought Helen may have been murdered because someone wanted information on a secret project she’d worked on. By the time I finished, Andy had regained some of his calm.
“I trust Bryan.” He took a sip of his coffee. “He’s a good worker, and a good man.”
Bryan remained silent.
“I’ve been to Dresden a few times,” Andy continued. “And I’ll admit, I noticed people there have a shared…openness for…things. I passed it off as a quirk of a small village.” He drained the rest of his coffee in three large gulps, then met my eyes. “Let’s say I believe in this…other world.”
He said it like it was two words, but out of kindness, I didn’t correct him. His eyeballs twitched with the effort not to look at Peasblossom singing under her breath as she twisted her hair into sudsy towers of bubbles. The man teetered on edge of sanity—the grammar could wait.
“If I’m going to take you seriously, you need to be honest with me.” He pointed to the card. “You need to tell me what the ‘secret project’ was. And you need to tell me exactly what you think happened. Who this non-human client of Mrs. Miller’s is.”
I put my hand on the desk. “You just found out about the Otherworld. It’s good you’re willing to believe, but this is only the first step. You don’t understand it yet, and it will take time for me to explain it to you—if you want me to explain it to you.” I took a deep breath. “So for now, you must trust me—”
I held up a hand when he opened his mouth to argue. “I’m sorry to ask for your faith so early in our relationship. I know it’s hard to trust a stranger, but I promise you I will earn that trust. For now, understand that even though I want to tell you everything, I can’t. Not because it would put you in danger—and it would—but because I swore a blood oath to protect confidentiality.”
“The way you say ‘blood oath’ makes me think it means more than a pinkie promise.”
“It means if I answer all your questions now, I’ll wish I was dead a long time before I die.”
I watched him chew that over for a minute. He leaned back in his chair, holding on to the arms as if concerned he would fall out of it if he let go. Then he gripped his knees, hauled himself forward, and folded his hands, bracing them on his legs. “If I accept your help, will you tell me who did this?”
I frowned. “I don’t have that answer yet.”
“But when you find out—if you find out—are you going to tell me? Or will this super-secret other world culprit disappear, never to see trial?”
That made me squirm a little. I hadn’t thought about it, but he was right. Somehow I didn’t think Anton would be satisfied with whoever stole his book sitting in a human prison.
“A human prison won’t hold whoever did this.”
Andy nodded as if that had been the answer he was expecting. Then he stood. “Keep in touch.”
He left without another word. I stared at Bryan, who hadn’t uttered a single syllable the entire time. “That’s it?” I asked.
Bryan shrugged. “Let him process everything. He’ll probably call you be
fore the end of the week.”
He didn’t look happy, but he did relax a little more now that I’d formally introduced Andy to the Otherworld.
“I hope so. For me and for you.” I glanced at Peasblossom and noted that she’d rinsed the soap from her hair and looked about finished with her impromptu bath. “Well, I should get home. I have a new mothers meeting tomorrow morning, and this weather brings on the sniffles that put new mums in mind of the plague.”
Bryan laughed. “My cousin was like that with her first baby. He woke up with that gunk in his eyes and she swore he had pneumonia.”
“All normal,” I promised. “When you spend that much time and effort bringing a new life into the world, it doesn’t take much to scare you into thinking you might lose it.”
The last of the tension faded away under a steady stream of comfortable chatter. I retrieved my wet and somewhat less-sticky pixie, and Bryan escorted us to my car. When he left, Peasblossom perched on the hood.
“I’m going spying,” she declared. “When I’m done, I’ll use someone’s phone to find you with that tracking app on your phone.”
I pressed my fingers to my temples, my good mood strained. “You’re all wet. You’ll freeze. Please just get in the car. I need sleep. Besides, I don’t like you using random strangers’ phones.”
She crossed her arms. “No. I’m going spying. I want to know what the wizard is up to. And no one minds if I use their phone. Last time I used someone’s phone, I leveled her up in Candy Crush. And it was a magic mixer level, so if anything, I think she owes me a favor now.”
I had a spell I could’ve used to stop her, but Peasblossom flew off before I could argue further, and way before I could raise my hand to draw the spell. I groaned and heaved myself into the car. She’d be fine, I knew she’d be fine. But Peasblossom was my first familiar, hopefully the only familiar I’d ever have or need. I felt like a new mum.
“I should have packed her extra clothes,” I murmured.
My cell phone rang then, and I had to tear my thoughts away from my wandering pixie. “Hello?”
“Hello, Ms. Renard. This is Flint Valencia. I am returning your call.”
I was glad I was sitting down. He hadn’t needed to tell me his name. Every word out of his mouth slid down my back like a soft caress, the whisper of clothing being removed. I had to tighten my hand on the steering wheel to ground myself in reality, convince myself I wasn’t lying in bed nestled in silk sheets. Goddess, how does he do that with his voice?
“Hi,” I managed, congratulating myself when I sounded almost-normal. “Um, please, call me Shade.” And already I’d messed up. If there was anyone who needed a reminder of my status, it was the leannan sidhe.
“Shade.” He said my name as though it were a promise, a mental note to put me on his social calendar. “What can I do for you?”
“Um, I was wondering if you could tell me where you were the afternoon of January twentieth?”
There was a pause, then a soft chuckle. “Have we met? Forgive me, but your name is not familiar. Did I perhaps call you something else?”
My brain wasn’t at optimum working condition, so it took me a full minute to realize what he was insinuating. A flare of temper helped chase the haze away from my thoughts, and I scowled. “I’m not a jealous lover. I’m asking for your alibi.”
“My alibi? For what?”
Some of the teasing bled from his tone. Good. “I’ll ask the questions, please. If you’ll be so kind as to tell me where you were?”
“Well, let me think. I believe I was with a young rusalka. A charming young lady whose name escapes me at the moment.”
I had a feeling a lot of names escaped him. “And she can vouch for your whereabouts? Or will your name escape her as well?”
“She will remember me.”
I squirmed in my seat. His words brought an image with them, a vision of shadows and bare skin, soft moans echoing in his voice. I narrowed my eyes and dug my fingernails into my palms. He’s doing that on purpose.
“If you could give me some information that would let me track her down so I can verify?” I prompted.
“She is a model with the Hemington Agency. I believe that night she’d just come from a photo shoot, something to do with lingerie.”
“What kind of lingerie?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t wear it long.”
I heard the smile in his voice and my blood heated a few degrees at the seduction underlying his tone. I knew he’d done that on purpose. “Armatura,” I said under my breath, and threw up my shields, responding to his push with one of my own.
“What is it you think I’ve done that you are so interested in my alibi?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss it. Suffice it to say, it would behoove you to give me your alibi, as well as a means to verify said alibi.”
There was a brief pause. When he spoke again, I felt every word ping off my shield, a more obvious attempt to influence me.
“Why don’t we meet in person? I’m certain I could remember more details, given the time.”
“I’m afraid tonight is not feasible. Why don’t you think about it and call me back?”
“I dislike phone conversations. So impersonal. When can I meet with you tomorrow?”
“Call me. Tomorrow.”
I hung up before he could respond, then dropped my head to the steering wheel and sighed. He was stronger than I’d expected, even over the phone. If I was going to speak with him again, possibly meet him, then I was going to need protection. So much for getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.
It was potion-brewing time.
CHAPTER 10
“This is it.”
Peasblossom looked up from where she was seated on my shoulder, her cookie trailing crumbs down my jacket as she leaned forward to look at the twenty-three-story hotel stretching over our heads. The Westin’s glass exterior caught the robin’s egg blue of the noon sky and held it like an artist’s palette, providing a beautiful backdrop for the hotel’s name to shine in neat white letters just over the front door. It sat in the center of Cleveland’s prime real estate, boasting convenient access to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and less than a mile of distance between its front stoop and Progressive Stadium, home to the Cleveland Indians, may they win a World Series.
“That’s where spy girl is staying?” Peasblossom asked.
I picked up my phone and looked at the video I’d paused. Bryan’s friend had come through and let him have the video from the ATM. I’d reviewed it before leaving the house, and the video was cued up to the pertinent time.
“I don’t know if she’s staying here, but this is the next building to the ATM she passed, so maybe we’ll get lucky,” I said. “If she isn’t staying here, then maybe they have a security camera that will give us another clue.”
Peasblossom took another bite of her cookie, sending a fresh cascade of crumbs down my chest and into my lap. “You want me to have a fly around?”
“No, stay with me until we know if she’s here or not.”
“All right.”
I waited for her to finish her cookie. I was already hyped up on two cups of coffee, I didn’t need the added agitation of cookie crumbs falling down my back because she decided to finish her messy treat while hiding in the neckline of my shirt.
“What are we waiting for?” More crumbs fell as she shoved the remaining cookie into her mouth.
I sighed. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
The Westin lobby made me pause. It wasn’t the gold and blue couches facing one another, or the graffiti-ish style of painting on the back wall that surprised me. It was the vertical herb garden.
“Ooooh,” Peasblossom said.
I put a hand on my neck, holding her in place before she could zip over to poke around in the leafy greens sunning themselves in the artificial lights that curled in a line from the top of the wall. “Later,” I promised.
She sulked as I made my way to the front desk. I cou
ldn’t be sure, but I thought I felt a cookie crumb bounce down my spine.
The man at the desk smiled as I approached. “Hello, welcome to the Westin. What can I do for you today?”
I smiled back, reaching inside for my magic and threading it through my voice. “Hi, I’m trying to find this woman.” I lifted my phone so he could see the paused video. “Have you seen her?”
The man frowned. “I’m sorry, I…” He blinked and put a hand to his temple.
“It’s really important I speak with her.” I poured a little more magic into my voice, filling the air with a cloud of pale lavender. I’d expected resistance—five-star hotels didn’t get that rating by giving out information on their guests willy-nilly.
“I… Yes. Yes, she’s here. I believe that’s Ms. Violet.”
Ms. Violet of the purple coat. I’d bet my last can of soda that was an alias. “Lovely. And what room is she in?”
“Room 204.”
“Thank you, so much.” I started to turn, then pivoted back with an apologetic smile. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I almost forgot. I need the room key.”
His frown returned, but fainter than the last one. “Room key?”
“Yes, don’t you remember? You said my sister is staying in room 204 and she left a key for me?”
“I… Yes, that’s right.” He smiled. “One moment.”
“Nice job,” Peasblossom whispered into my ear.
“Thanks. It was spur-of-the-moment bluff.”
Peasblossom snorted. “I know.”
With the room key in hand, I turned and left while the spell still muddled his thoughts. With any luck, I’d be out of sight before he realized what happened and the magical haze around our conversation would push all memory of me from his mind.
It was a short elevator ride to the second floor. Part of me half expected the doors to open and revel the mysterious blonde standing in the hallway, ready to blast me with a spell that would catapult me through the wall and out of the building. I had that kind of luck sometimes. The doors slid open, and my heart pounded.
Deadline (Blood Trails Book 1) Page 15
