Deadline (Blood Trails Book 1)

by Jennifer Blackstream

  “It was worth a shot. I’ve heard of her. She’s got a reputation as one of the greatest thieves the Otherworld has ever seen. And she obviously hates Anton.”

  “It takes more than greed and hate to make someone go up against the vampire prince of Dacia,” Peasblossom declared. “No one wants to mess with him. Especially the sister of someone he killed.”

  “But someone did go against him. Someone broke into his vault.”

  “Well, Dabria didn’t seem so inclined.”

  I pressed the button for the ground floor. “She can’t give me a solid alibi. Sure, she hinted she was robbing someone else, but that’s rather convenient. An alibi I have no way of checking up on. And she was at Anton’s yesterday, she put a scrying spell on me. It can’t be a coincidence.” I shook my head. “I need to find out if she could have known about the book. She has magic and she’s good with traps, that much we already know. If she knew the book was there, then she’s a viable suspect.”

  “I could spy some more, look around the hotel. You know there’s got to be a brownie here somewhere, sneaking around at night and cleaning. Maybe someone saw something.”

  “It’s worth a try. You can do that while I talk to Flint.” I exited the elevator and, per my promise, took Peasblossom over to the vertical herb garden.

  “Whoa, no, meet with Flint by yourself?” Peasblossom protested. “I don’t think so.”

  “I can talk to Flint on my own. You don’t need to be there.”

  “Yeah, right.” Peasblossom hopped off my shoulder to land on a sprig of mint. “If I’m not there, you’ll end up getting mind-rolled again like you did with Arianne. Only this time when you come to your senses, you’ll be in his bed wearing a goofy smile and promising to do whatever your loverboy wants.”

  An image of the leannan sidhe rose in my mind, his dark eyes and sinfully soft mouth. I remembered the way his jeans had clung to his hips, outlined every swell of muscle. Sidhe were naturally fit and beautiful, but you didn’t get bulk like that without working out.

  I shoved those thoughts away, giving myself a mental splash of ice water. The pixie had a point. It might not be smart to meet him alone.

  Though part of me liked the idea.

  Really liked the idea.

  “I’ll call him on the phone.”

  “And say what?” Peasblossom plucked a leaf from the mint plant and curled the stem around like a pretend phone. “‘Hi, Flint, I heard Anton is going to expose your murderous rise to power if you don’t ally yourself with him by the spring solstice. Did you by any chance steal his little black book?’”

  I took the mint leaf from her and pulled her out of the herb garden. “Let’s assume Flint could charm any information out of anyone. The question remains, did he know who to charm? Obviously he got to the security guard, so he could have gained access to the building. The guard could have seen Anton put the book in the vault. Did he know Helen Miller built the traps? And does he know someone powerful enough to break Isai’s wards?” People were staring at me now, and I realized I probably looked like a crazy woman talking to herself. I cleared my throat and made a beeline for the front door.

  A cold wind hit me in the face as I left the hotel, and I instinctively put a hand on the back of my hair, making sure Peasblossom didn’t get swept away. “Exactly how connected is Flint?” I continued.

  “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Peasblossom asked.

  I swiveled my head to see where Peasblossom was pointing, and my jaw dropped.

  A motorcycle had just pulled up in front of the hotel. Sultry eyes made him look as though he’d just woken up, just rolled over in the sheets to wish me good morning. Brown hair cut short, but long enough on top to comb back. A light beard shaded his jaw, outlining his mouth as if calling attention to how soft his lips were. The simple black T-shirt and blue jeans hugged the swells of muscle that graced his body from head to toe, making it clear he had nothing in his denim pockets.

  He wore no helmet, but then, he didn’t have to. When it came to motorcycle accidents, leannan sidhe could survive anything short of total decapitation or complete immolation. And a helmet wouldn’t save him from that. A tiny voice in my head added that surely the gods themselves would protect him, if only to preserve that face. It wasn’t right that a man could look so shy and still give the impression that he’d have you in his bed within the hour. Something to do with the half-smile and bedroom eyes…

  “Hello. You must be Shade.”

  I jerked back, realizing that at some point I’d closed the distance between us. He was close enough that it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to curl an arm around my hips and pull me closer. Heat from his body soaked through the leather jacket, though it paled in comparison to the heat of his body as he dragged me closer. To any passerby, we’d have looked like a couple meeting up for a date. What did my face look like right now? Shocked? Smiling?

  I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. He was smiling at me, brown eyes shining. And he smelled… I leaned in and drew a deep breath. Leather and just a hint of aftershave. Dizziness made me sway on my feet, and I put a hand on his shoulder to steady myself. His grin widened.

  “Climb on,” he said, his voice low, suggestive. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  His arm tugged at my waist, urging me to climb onto the back of the bike. I hated motorcycles. If I wanted to tear through the air like a rocket with no protection around me to speak of, I’d ride a broomstick. I slid a leg over the bike and settled into the seat behind him. His back was so warm. I curled against him, letting his body heat chase back the February cold.

  It wasn’t until he started the bike that the roar of the engine cut through the haze over my thoughts. I hesitated, frowning down at the bike. Wait a minute. Where was I going? Hadn’t I driven here? My car… Why was Flint here?

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. The words took a monumental effort to form in my brain, let alone speak them with any coherency.

  “I’m here for you,” he said in the same resistance-melting tone. “You called me, so here I am.”

  That’s right. I had called him. I wanted to talk to him. How nice that he came so quickly.

  An instinct deep inside told me something was wrong. I needed to run, needed to get off this bike. But I couldn’t for the life of me think of why.

  Flint pulled my arms around his waist, revved the engine, and took off.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Let her go!”

  Flint let out a grunt of surprise as Peasblossom punched him in the nose, using her tiny body as a battering ram. Despite her size, the pixie knew how to make momentum work for her, and Flint’s head snapped back. She darted out of the way immediately, instinctively dodging his swing. The bike veered sharply to the right, and my heart leapt into my throat. I clung harder to Flint even while the warm fuzziness coating my thoughts froze and shattered as reality crashed down on me. The street looked harder than it had a second ago, panic making me aware of every rock, every stone, every facet of the city that had the potential to bring a great deal of pain to my body if the fey didn’t keep control of the motorcycle.

  “Shade, get off the bike!”

  Peasblossom dove again, but this time, she hit me in right temple—hard.

  “Ouch!” I yelped.

  “Get off, get off, get off!”

  Flint cursed and pulled over to the side of the road. As soon as he’d come to a complete stop, he waved a hand in the air, no longer batting at Peasblossom, but this time trying to snatch her out of the air. The pixie dove into the turned-up collar of my coat, and I felt her brace her back against my spine and start kicking me with her tiny feet as hard as she could. The dull thuds against my vertebrae pushed the rest of Flint’s influence from my mind, and I stumbled off the bike.

  “Run,” Peasblossom spat. “Run to the car now!”

  I ran. My hands closed into fists, and the ring on my finger dug into my skin. I jerked the rin
g through the air over my chest, marking out the same equal-armed cross I’d used before and refreshing the original spell. Blue light flared over me, closing me in enchanted armor.

  “That would have been a good idea before having a chat with the fey,” Peasblossom pointed out crossly.

  “I didn’t know he was out here,” I protested, breathing a little harder. I spotted my car in the parking lot ahead and ran faster.

  “I told you he was there!”

  “You told me a split second before he made eye contact!” I fumbled for my keys, stabbing at the button on the key fob that would unlock the doors. “He’s strong.”

  “No kidding.”

  I tumbled into the car. Peasblossom leapt out of my coat and landed on the GPS. “Start the car. I’ll put in the address.”

  I didn’t argue with her. I didn’t think Flint was giving chase, but I wasn’t going to stop and check. I needed space between us, space to gather my thoughts and figure out what a sane person would do in this situation.

  Three minutes later, the GPS interrupted my chaotic thoughts. “You have arrived.”

  I blinked. “Goodfellows?”

  “Yes. I have earned some honey, and I’ll collect now, if you don’t mind.”

  I sighed and pulled into the parking lot. “You realize it probably would have been smarter to run away somewhere more than half a mile from the attack.”

  “Let him follow you here. Didn’t you see the sign behind the bar? This is a safe haven. Otherworldly fights will result in the calling of the Vanguard—all parties will be arrested.”

  No, I hadn’t seen that sign. But then, Peasblossom had the better eye for detail. It was what made her a great spy. I paused before closing the car door. “Wait a minute. Did you learn anything last night?” In all the excitement of finding Dabria, I hadn’t taken the time to get Peasblossom’s report.

  She flew up to my shoulder and crossed her arms. “Honey first.”

  I bit my tongue and locked the car. Arguing would be pointless.

  I waited until we were settled at a table, me with tea and honey—my own honey—and Peasblossom with her bowl of honey.

  “All right, you have your treat. Now what did you find out?”

  Peasblossom raised her hand toward her mouth, greedy eyes glittering as the honey oozed from her palm to the bowl. “I’m a good spy.”

  I waited. Not so patiently.

  “There wasn’t anyone at the hotel that had anything worth hearing, so I decided to broaden the search. Nose about the neighborhood a bit.” She waggled her eyebrows at me. “Isai has been quite the social butterfly.”

  “What do you mean a social butterfly?”

  “He’s been visiting a bunch of wizards, and a few sorcerers. Including Arianne.” Peasblossom sucked on her fingers, making loud smacking sounds that drew the attention of several other patrons.

  A dryad near the window gave me a sympathetic smile, but the two trolls at the other table touched the weapons at their belts, a warning to mind the pixie. I put my hand up to hide my face.

  “Stop being so loud,” I hissed.

  Peasblossom looked me in the eye and sucked some more honey off her hand. Louder this time.

  The vein in my temple pulsed.

  I groped for my tea. “What does he want?”

  “Don’t know. He’s very sensitive about spying, keeps casting detection spells—even goes invisible every once in a while.” She snorted, almost choked on her honey, then swallowed. “Paranoid, that’s what he is. Thinks he’s always being watched.”

  “So none of the wee ones you talked to knew why he was making all these visits?”

  “No, but they’re always watching him, so they know where he goes. Spitbeard is powerful and cranky, and we like to keep an eye on those types.”

  I stopped myself from taking a sip of tea just in time to avoid having it shoot up my nose as I laughed at the Spitbeard nickname. “We’ll call him that from now on. It will make him less scary.” I leaned back against the bench seat’s cushion, drumming my fingernails against my mug. “What are you up to, Spitbeard?”

  “Maybe he has the book, and he’s trying to figure out how to open it.”

  “Possibly. Or he could be trying to build his own alliances.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I took a sip of tea. “Well, let’s say Isai was ready to violate his agreement with Anton and he did steal the book. He figures he’ll eat whatever consequences come down on his magic for being forsworn and he’ll be fine because he’ll have all that blackmail to force other people to work for him.”

  “No wizard is going to risk his power like that.”

  “But remember what Anton said. Isai’s been watching him all this time. Think about how much power and control Anton has—all with no magic of his own. Isai is arrogant, so I can believe he’d think there was nothing to it, that he could be just as successful as Anton if he had the vampire’s resources.”

  Peasblossom slurped up another handful of honey. “All right,” she said in a sticky voice. “So Isai decides to break his word and use the book to build a rival empire.”

  “Or take over Anton’s.”

  “Or that. He steals the book, but it’s locked.”

  I nodded. “Anton said he had Serafina’s castle double-warded so Isai couldn’t let himself in. What if he did the same to the book? Maybe Isai is looking for the other wizard who warded the book?”

  “Sounds possible,” Peasblossom agreed.

  “Too bad I can’t ask Arianne what Isai came to talk to her about.”

  “Don’t even think about it. She’ll just hypnotize you again—or worse. She doesn’t like you.”

  I dropped my head against the backrest of the booth. “I still owe her a present, don’t I? Bloody hell.”

  Peasblossom snorted. “Gonna have to be a big present.”

  She wasn’t wrong. I sighed and unzipped the pouch at my waist. I needed to organize my thoughts.

  “Oh, brother,” Peasblossom muttered five minutes later, watching me over her bowl of honey. “You need to organize that thing.”

  My fingers met something sticky, and a small lump attached itself to my skin. I wrinkled my nose and grasped the rubbery tidbit, not wanting to know what it was, but needing to get it out of my bag. A half-eaten red gummy bear. I pressed my lips together and held it out to Peasblossom.

  “I was looking for that!” she accused.

  “You say that like I took it from you,” I said, exasperated. “How many times do I have to tell you to carry your own stuff and stop tucking things into my pack? Especially half-eaten food.” I used a napkin to pry the candy from my hand, then resumed my search, this time keeping an eye out for a wet wipe as well. “You keep telling me to get organized, but I’d like to know how that’s possible when you keep adding to the mess.”

  “You’re so cranky today.” Peasblossom sniffed. “I think I’ll spend another night here.”

  “No you won’t.” I glared at a wadded-up ball of tissues I’d just pulled from the pack, some of which were now glued to the tacky residue on my fingertips. “You’re coming home. I might need to make more potions.”

  “You don’t need me for that,” she protested. “If you can’t do it yourself, like a proper witch, ask Mother Hazel.”

  The triumph I’d felt when my hand closed around a notebook died at the notion of going to my mentor for help. I imagined the look on her face at the very suggestion she help me down the path of private investigator—the path she seemed to think led away from being a true witch. “I am not going to ask her for potions. Blood and bone, are you trying to make my life miserable?”

  “Guff, guff, guff.”

  I found a wet wipe and cleaned my hands before resettling myself in the seat and pulling a slim pen from the spiral binding of the notepad. The pen made a tiny blue dot as I pressed it to the paper.

  “All right, I need to talk with Arianne, but first I need to make myself less vulnerable to her spe
lls. I’m not meeting her at the hotel again—Goddess only knows what fortifying measures she has there. Perhaps if I met her someplace public?”

  “You think she’ll nip out to have coffee with you because you asked nicely?”

  Good point. “Or I can borrow something from Mother Hazel to help.”

  Peasblossom chortled. “You’re going to steal an item of power from your mentor?”

  The pen groaned in my grip. “Borrow.”

  “Are you going to ask first?”

  “Next, I have to check on Flint’s alibi.”

  Peasblossom’s hand slipped from the edge of the bowl, and only the mad fluttering of her wings saved her from submerging in her sticky breakfast. “Check his alibi?” she demanded, rising into the air. “You got his alibi? That didn’t happen today. You met with Flint without me?”

  “No. I talked to him on the phone.”

  “Without me.”

  I gave her a satisfied smirk over the notepad. “If I recall, you decided to have an impromptu sleepover.”

  She scowled and made a fist that forced honey through her fingers in oozing golden lines. “You didn’t make staying home a tempting alternative.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “All right, I’m going to see if I can’t coax Arianne to meet with me here. You find this Hemington Agency and snoop around to see who knows Flint. He says he was with one of their models, but of course he doesn’t remember her name. Still, shouldn’t be too hard to find her if you recruit some help.”

  Peasblossom crossed her arms and flew into the air to hover an inch away from my nose. “No. I want to stay with you.”

  I had a flash of brilliance and shoved my hand into my bag. After three minutes of finding nothing but junk that didn't belong there in the first place, I crowed in triumph and raised a handful of honey packets. “Take these. Use them to reward those of your spy network who do properly impressive reconnaissance.”

  Peasblossom’s eyes widened and she dipped, attention locked on the condiment samples. “A spy network?”