He just smirked.
Reg looked away, determined not to be pulled in by his charm. Even knowing what he was and what he had done to her, she struggled to see him for what he really was. He constantly drew her in with whatever pheromones or magical glamour he exuded.
“Let’s not fight,” Corvin crooned to Jessup, leaning closer to her. “Marta.”
“I’d rather fight,” Jessup snapped back, inching her chair away. “You have not been asked to take part in this investigation.”
“I’ve been asked to consult. I’d say that was invitation enough. I can help you.” Again, the inviting croon entered his voice. He enveloped them both with his offer. “I know how girls think.”
Reg’s mind was muddled for a minute. Girls?
Calliopia!
She was letting him distract her. Distract both of them. Calliopia was in trouble, and they couldn’t afford to while away their time with Corvin Hunter.
“So who or what are the Rosdews?”
Jessup put her teacup down with a clatter that made Reg jump, sure it was going to shatter. But it didn’t.
“Magical folk,” she said brusquely.
“And Calliopia’s family are too? And the two families have some kind of… magical feud?”
Jessup and Corvin both nodded.
“You really think this boy might have… kidnapped her? It doesn’t sound very likely to me. People don’t kidnap because of feuds or love… If he liked her, then it’s more likely that they would have just run off together, isn’t it? And if he didn’t… I don’t know. He’d reject her. Make fun of her. But kidnap her? Why?”
Jessup looked steadily at Reg. “You said she was being held. You said she wanted to get away and couldn’t.”
“Yes… I know…” Reg again felt the chill and dread that had been present in Calliopia’s prison. She hadn’t run away there with a boyfriend. Had the boy coerced her into going there, and then they’d kidnapped her? Had he lured her into a trap? “Are these Rosdews like you?” she asked Corvin.
“Like me?”
“I mean… do they have…” Reg cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Charms? Glamour? Whatever it is you attract people with?”
“Ah.” He smiled. “No, they don’t have the natural attraction that I do. But they do have… their own brand of magic. Their own ways of… luring prey.”
Goosebumps stood up on Reg’s arms and sweat started dripping down her back. The classification of Calliopia as prey—and Reg too, if she extended the words to Corvin’s own behavior—was unsettling.
“Then that’s where we should go. To the Rosdews.”
“We?” Jessup repeated. “In case you forgot, this is a police investigation, and you are not part of the police department. Neither of you is. Before the police can go beating down someone’s door, they need a little thing called a warrant and probable cause.”
“Even here? In a case like this?”
“Yes. Even a case like this. Sure, some police have played fast and loose with the law here, but they don’t last long if they won’t follow the rules.”
“Isn’t the journal reason enough to question the boy?”
“It’s enough to ask him some questions about Calliopia, but not enough to make him a suspect. There’s nothing to indicate he’s done anything wrong. I can’t arrest him or force him to answer anything. He would just laugh and walk away.”
“And then you’d have tipped him off that you know he’s involved.”
“Yes. We could put surveillance on him, see where he leads us… but in a community like that, surveillance can get complicated.”
“He can’t turn invisible, can he?” Reg asked with a laugh.
“It’s not as impossible as you might think. Camouflage, distraction spells, wards, a sense of where people are looking…”
“But not actual invisibility, right?”
Jessup shrugged and didn’t say one way or the other.
“Then what’s the next step?” Reg asked. “That’s it? I’m done?”
“For now, yes,” Jessup agreed. “Submit your invoice and I’ll get the payment processed for you. This isn’t a partnership. I asked you to perform one task and you’ve done that. Above and beyond, having a second vision of Callie and meeting with the warlock about it. But that’s all there is. It’s all just plain police work from here on in. Feet on the ground, chasing down every available lead.”
Reg looked at Corvin, who was watching her with half-closed eyes. He didn’t agree or disagree with Jessup’s analysis. Reg supposed it was in their best interests to just let the police do their jobs. If Jessup called one or the other of them occasionally for a consult, that was a nice extra paycheck, but they weren’t about to become Mystery Incorporated and solve all of the spooky crimes around Black Sands together.
And that was good, because channeling people in magical comas or remote viewing people who had been kidnapped was exhausting work.
“You look like you could use some distraction,” Corvin told Reg. “You’ve been working too hard.”
“I’m just tired. A good night’s sleep…”
“You keep shutting yourself up in that little cottage. You need to get out and meet some people. For business development as well as your emotional health.”
“I suppose,” Reg admitted. “I’m usually more social. I just never knew how tiring it could be to work with something that’s… so ephemeral.”
“You’ll adjust. Your body will get more used to it, just like with any other kind of exercise.”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel the same. When you’ve had a good workout, your muscles are tired and sore, but you still feel… that extra boost. But after something that uses a lot of my… psychic energy… I just feel like sleeping for three days. I know I should get out in the community, but I don’t know…”
“There’s a community newsletter that gets published around here,” Corvin said. “If you haven’t seen a copy of it, I could get you one. There are meet-ups between practitioners of various arts, community mixers, sports, sales and fundraisers…”
“Yeah, Sarah’s left me a calendar and some flyers. But… I’m just not really ready to go to anything. Maybe when I know a few more people.”
“That’s how you get to know them! By going out to these things. Come on.” He touched her hand. “Pick something out and I’ll go with you.”
His hand was warm and soothing, like something she could curl up in and be kept safe and protected. He hardly even knew her, but he was willing to take that on himself. He had told Reg that he was duty-bound to protect her, after what had happened between them. She wanted nothing more than to just cuddle up into him.
⋆ Chapter Eight ⋆
R
eg.”
Reg was lost in Corvin’s eyes. Swimming out to answer the call was an arduous task. She wanted to just stay where it was safe and warm.
“Rawlins. Reg. Hey!”
Reg winced. Not just at Detective Jessup’s raised voice, but at the sharp jab in the shoulder. She pushed Jessup’s hand away clumsily.
“Don’t.” It was like her mouth was full of toffee. Shaping her mouth and pushing out even just one word was almost more than she could manage.
“Let her go,” Jessup snapped.
Corvin withdrew his hand, leaving Reg’s cold and tingly. A little of the haziness lifted.
“You’re here on business. You’re not supposed to be entrancing Reg.”
Corvin raised his brows in an expression of innocence. “She’s tired. She needed a boost. I’m just trying to help. You’re the one demanding her services without giving anything in return.”
“She’ll be paid.”
“Money is poor recompense for her pouring her life’s energy into your case.”
Reg looked around, breathing more deeply and realizing that the contact with Corvin had, in fact, left her invigorated. It seemed counterintuitive that the comfortable, drowsy feeling that had come over her would give her
more energy, but once her contact with Corvin was broken, it had.
“You should not be touching her. She doesn’t know the ways you can enthrall her. This is a business transaction, not a date.”
Enthrall. To make into a thrall. A slave.
Yet somehow enthralling had come to mean something fascinating or exciting. How long had men of Corvin’s ilk been enticing women into their power?
“If our business transaction is complete, then I believe you owe me that,” Corvin said dryly, his eyes on the little box.
Jessup slid it across the table to him, looking repulsed. Corvin closed his hand around it, purring.
“What is it?” Reg asked.
“A morsel,” Corvin said. “A small token of thanks for my expertise.”
Reg looked at Jessup and back at Corvin. She probably didn’t want to know the details. An organ from one of the animals that Uriel Hawthorne and his cabal had been poaching and trafficking? Some magical artifact that had been used in another kind of blood rite? Or maybe it was something that seemed completely innocuous, and Jessup was just disgusted at having to deal with Corvin Hunter.
“We should go now,” Jessup told Reg, rising to her feet.
“Yeah. Okay.”
Reg stood up from her chair. She felt like she had run a long race and then sat down, her legs wobbly and shaky as the tiny kittens Reg had once found in a cardboard box in a back alley. Jessup put a hand on her arm, steadying her.
“Don’t move too fast. You’ll be fine once we get out of here.”
Reg nodded. She held on to the table for a minute, trying to draw in strength and stabilize herself. She’d get home to Starlight. She’d feed him. She’d go back to bed, and in the morning she would feel more like herself again. She just needed a good night’s sleep.
“Look at the community calendar,” Corvin told her again. “Pick out what you’d like to go to, and I’ll go along with you so you won’t be alone. Nothing is going to happen to you with other magical practitioners around you.”
“Like here, right?” Reg demanded, thinking of how he had bewitched her again, even when she was on guard, even with Jessup sitting right there. Sitting in the middle of a restaurant full of other community members.
“I didn’t do anything to harm you. I took nothing from you. I only gave.”
Jessup said little once they were out of the restaurant, escorting Reg to her car.
“You’re okay?” she checked.
“Yes, I’m fine. Feeling a lot better, actually.” Maybe she’d watch some TV before bed. She no longer felt like she needed to fall right into it.
“Don’t go back in there,” Jessup warned, nodding to The Crystal Bowl.
“Why would I do that?”
Jessup straightened, looking across the parking lot toward the building. As if she could still see Corvin, sitting at his table, coolly sipping his Jack Daniels. “Because a lot of women would.”
“Well, I’m not like a lot of women. He made a fool of me once, but that’s not going to happen again.”
“You’re vulnerable and he’s in there getting stronger. Just go straight home. If you forgot your pocketbook or lost an earring, forget about it and just go home. Stay away from him tonight.”
“I will,” Reg insisted.
“Okay. Take care of yourself.”
Back at the cottage, Reg let herself back in and yawned widely. It was as if her fatigue and Corvin’s restless energy were both present, yet separate like oil and water.
“Starlight! Here, kitty, kitty.”
Reg walked to the fridge to get something out for him, expecting him to bolt out of the bedroom and reach it before she did. But there was no sight or sound of him. Reg frowned. She went ahead and got out the tuna anyway.
“Kitty, kitty?”
But once again, opening the tuna and spooning some into Starlight’s bowl didn’t bring him running. Reg went to her bedroom and looked in, expecting to find him curled up asleep on the bed. But he wasn’t. Reg looked around. Under the bed? On top of the dresser? She checked the bathroom to see if he’d gotten shut in there. The spare room door stood open, and there was no sign of him there. Reg went back to the living room and checked on and under the furniture, behind the drapes, and inside every other hiding place she could imagine. It didn’t make any sense. There weren’t that many places a cat could hide in the cottage; and why would he? He always came racing to her if there were food being offered, or just close at hand.
“Starlight?”
Finally, she went to the door of the cottage and opened it, sticking her head and out looking around.
“Starlight? Starlight?”
She had a cold, scared feeling in the middle of her stomach. What could have happened to him? He couldn’t let himself out of the cottage. Her mind went to kidnapping, but that was only because of her involvement with Calliopia. Who would steal a cat? It wasn’t like Starlight was a rare and valuable breed. He was a cat with considerable psychic powers, but who would care about that? He wouldn’t align himself with just anyone. His powers wouldn’t be of any worth to anyone unless he shared them willingly.
Unless, like the poached animals, his power remained in his body after his death and someone could put it to use. Her stomach roiled at the idea. She thought of Corvin and his box at the restaurant. She’d said before that what he did was reprehensible, and he had countered that his predatory nature was beyond his control, just part of his nature, like red hair was part of her physical makeup. How could it be wrong to be what he was born?
“Starlight…?”
The back door of the big house opened and Reg saw Sarah silhouetted against the indoor light.
“Reg?”
“Have you seen Starlight? I can’t find him?”
“Oh, Reg! I’m so sorry!” Sarah hurried down the path across the yard. “I don’t know what happened. I just went into the cottage to check on things, and he shot out the door as soon as I opened it… I called him and called him, but he wouldn’t come back. I shook his food, I tried to explain to him that it wasn’t safe for him to be out wandering around… but he wouldn’t come back.”
“He went outside? Where?”
Reg looked around, hoping to spot Starlight sheltering under a shrub or sneaking up on a bird. It would serve Sarah right if Starlight ended up hunting one of the birds in the garden. She should have called Reg. She shouldn’t have been in the cottage in the first place. It was Reg’s rental. She was supposed to have peaceful enjoyment of the property, not to be interrupted by the witch who owned the place multiple times a day.
“I don’t know where he went. He raced by me, and then he was gone. I looked for him and I called him… I’m so sorry…”
“I’m sure he’ll come back,” Reg said, though she wasn’t at all sure. Dogs and pigeons returned home, but cats? If Starlight had decided he wanted to be wild and free, what was going to make him change his mind and return? Cats were well-known for their independent attitudes and Starlight’s recent conduct hadn’t been particularly compliant.
“He will,” Sarah repeated. “Of course he will. I just don’t know what he was thinking.” She shook her head. “I never could understand cats!”
“Well…” Reg looked around once more, feeling empty and alone. “I suppose he’ll be back when he’s hungry.”
Sarah nodded and patted Reg on the shoulder, murmuring to her. Reg withdrew and shut the door, hot tears prickling in her eyes. She didn’t need Sarah’s sympathy and apologies. She didn’t need anyone or anything else in her life.
⋆ Chapter Nine ⋆
R
eg expected Corvin to show up any time, but he didn’t. She kept startling at every sound, not used to how quiet it was without Starlight around, and certain that the cat was just outside or was going to come to harm.
Was it possible that Corvin had something to do with Starlight’s disappearance? He and the cat had been particularly antagonistic toward each other. Not like Sarah, who was willin
g to make friends with Starlight and was kind to him even though she didn’t have a natural attraction to cats. Corvin had made it plain from the start that he and Starlight were on opposite sides. Starlight had been able to see through Corvin’s exterior to the kind of person he really was inside. Reg should have paid more attention to him.
Morning came, and there was still no sign of either Corvin or Starlight. She supposed it was good news that Corvin was staying away. Unless he’d had something to do with Starlight’s disappearance.
But he couldn’t have. He had been at the restaurant with Reg and Jessup when Starlight had taken off.
Reg was determined not to spend all of her time and energy worrying about the whereabouts of the cat. She could, after all, go back to the shelter and pick out another cat any time she wanted to. And maybe the new cat would be more normal and behave appropriately. He’d eat cat food and sleep in a cat bed and not act like he was a human or thought himself superior to humans.
Reg wanted to help find Calliopia. She’d had a number of restless dreams, some to do with Callie and some not. Jessup didn’t want her help, but that didn’t mean Reg couldn’t do a little investigating of her own.
Jessup hadn’t given her the boy’s name, but Corvin had told her the family name. Rosdew. There couldn’t be a whole lot of Rosdews around. Reg had never even heard the name before. Reg asked her phone for directions to the public library, and there a librarian helped her find a stack of school yearbooks for the area. She didn’t have to read them, all she had to do was to look in the index for any Rosdews. Even if there were a few of them, she’d have some idea of where to start. If she were lucky, Calliopia’s name would be in the same book.
Not too shabby for an amateur detective. An hour later, Reg was outside the private high school that both Callie and Ruan Rosdew attended.
She had studied each picture that Callie or Ruan had appeared in, looking for any indication of the relationship between the two. But they were not in any of the same organizations; in fact, both of them had a serious lack of after-school clubs or sports. There were no pictures of them hanging out together, or of friends they appeared to have in common. They were a grade apart, Ruan being the elder.
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