He pulled out his phone and searched the internet for Laurel Teller. A ton of articles popped up, the top ones linking her to a couple of pop stars and…an angel.
He skimmed the article, skipping past the pointless fluff until he found the information on the angel. Apparently, they didn’t know his name, but whoever he was, he owned the houses she lived in. The cars she drove. The credit cards she shopped with. Everything.
There was a certain status that came with being picked by an angel. They called them Blessed, which he’d always thought was a bunch of crap. They were blessed alright. The angels showered the men and women they chose with money and gifts, the Blessed women popped out a couple of kids, then it all tended to disappear.
What bothered him though was the connection to the angel. It felt like too much of a coincidence after everything that had happened. A half angel had been involved with the sorcerer, now an angel’s mistress shows up dead less than a mile from where Deward is taken by a powerful magic user.
Could the murderer be the same person as the kidnapper? Could it be an angel somehow?
Amber padded into the living room. “What’s wrong? Your racing heartbeat woke me up.”
He shoved his phone at her. “This human, someone attached to an angel, was murdered a mile from the tunnels the same morning Deward disappeared.”
“That must have been why I heard sirens on the way to meet you,” Amber said with a frown. She grabbed his phone, reading about Laurel’s attachment to the angel. “Is it related somehow?”
“I think so. The news is saying whoever killed her did it with magic. The MIB showed up to the scene while they were reporting.”
She took a deep breath, her lips pressed into a thin line. “This isn’t good.”
“No, but it’s a clue. Do we go to them? Tell them what happened?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure they’d trust us considering our pack is under investigation. It also doesn’t look good to be linked, in any way, to another death.”
Tommy slumped back onto the couch. “We have to do something.”
Amber opened her mouth to say something but stopped, eyes darting to the side. Kadrithan must have appeared.
“It’s in my glove box, why––” She rolled her eyes. “It’s perfectly safe there. Do you need it back?”
Tommy watched the one-sided exchange silently. He wished he could hear what Kadrithan was saying.
“We’ve had more important––shut up and listen,” she said, crossing her arms. “Tommy’s friend Deward went missing in some tunnels less than a mile from where you ran out in front of my truck, which just so happens to also be the location of a murder. You know anything about that?”
Amber stared the demon down, anger flashing through the pack bond at whatever his response was. “Keep bullshitting me and I’ll put that black thing down the garbage disposal.”
He raised his eyebrows. Kadrithan must be really pissing her off.
“Fine, then you’re explaining everything.”
Amber stomped toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”
Genevieve appeared at the top of the stairs. “What the hell is going on?”
“I may have figured something out but apparently Kadrithan is involved. Amber is making him explain something.”
Ceri and Derek walked into the living room from the hallway. He was wearing her fluffy, purple robe.
“Everything okay?” he asked tiredly.
“Just wait for Amber to get back.” Tommy pushed off the couch and headed to the kitchen. He hadn’t been able to eat dinner earlier and his stomach was protesting the lack of food.
Woggy’s head popped up from the silverware drawer as he approached, his cheeks stuffed full.
“What have you gotten into this time?” he asked while signing along with it.
Ears dropping sheepishly, Woggy held up a half-eaten spoon. He signed sorry and hungry with his free hand.
“Aw hell, we forgot to give you lunch and dinner, didn’t we?” Tommy signed the question, but he didn’t know quite enough words to form the whole thought. Woggy seemed to understand though and nodded forlornly.
You sad. You angry. Woggy signed back. Waited. Hungry.
Sorry. Tommy signed with a sigh. He opened the fridge and pulled out the leftover pizza and some canned chicken. “Here you go.”
Captain Jack meowed as he ran into the kitchen looking for a treat as well.
“We probably forgot to feed you too––” Tommy stopped abruptly, taking in the cat’s size. He was bigger than he had been yesterday, he was sure of it.
“He’s still growing,” Genevieve said with a sigh from the entryway to the kitchen, confirming his suspicions. “I’m starting to wonder if someone cast a spell on him or something. It’s weird.”
Shaking her head, she went into the pantry and got his cat food, filling his bowl to the top. “Growing boys need lots of food,” she murmured, stroking his back as he started chowing down on the dry food.
Woggy tugged on Tommy’ sleeve, long fingers straining to reach the chicken. He took the paper off then handed the pixie the can –– they’d learned they really didn’t need to open it for him.
The front door opened and Amber stomped back in, still arguing with Kadrithan about something.
He met Genevieve’s eyes and they both sighed before heading back to the living room.
“Visible. Now,” Amber demanded.
Kadrithan came into view, though he was more of a wonky, shadowy blob than a person. Tommy frowned. That was odd. The demon was all about appearances and being intimidating. It was almost like he couldn’t do anything more right now.
“Give it to the witch,” Kadrithan demanded.
“Not until you tell me where you found it and what it is,” Amber said, clutching a dirty napkin in her hand.
Kadrithan’s shadow darkened. For a moment, Tommy thought he may not answer. “I found it at the murder scene.”
“At Laurel Teller’s?” Tommy asked in alarm.
“Yes. It is a piece of what killed her. However, I don’t know what it is, which is why I brought it to you in the first place. I can’t touch it or properly analyze it. Give it to her and have her do it.”
Ceri glared at the demon. “You don’t get to order us around.”
“Ceri, please do it. I think whoever killed Laurel Teller may have taken Deward. We need to know everything we can. Do it for me, not him,” Tommy pleaded. He wasn’t above getting down on his knees and begging if it came to it.
Her shoulders slumped. “Fine, give it here.”
Amber handed over the dirty napkin. Inside it was a slender, black piece of something that looked almost like obsidian. It was shiny and perfectly smooth other than what looked like a thorn jutting from it.
“This is strange.” Ceri examined it carefully, tapping it quickly with her finger. She frowned, then picked it up from the napkin. “It doesn’t burn me.”
“What kind of magic created it?” Kadrithan asked, drifting toward her.
Ceri frowned and glared at the thing. She never had liked not knowing things. “It’s hard to say. My first instinct is elvish but I’ve never seen anything like this from an elf. Their magic is very elemental, and this is neither wood, nor stone. It’s not a plant either despite the thorn.”
“If it’s elvish, maybe Thallan could say for sure what kind?” Tommy suggested.
Ceri visibly shuddered. “Even if he did know, he’d never tell us. Illya, however, might.” She shut her eyes and took on a strange glow. A shudder went through the house, then Illya’s specter appeared in the living room.
She smiled serenely at them, her pale green hair drifting around her shoulders in a breeze only she felt. “Ceridwen.”
“Illya, we need your help,” Ceri said, holding the piece out to her. “Do you know what this is?”
Illya drifted toward her, eyes alight at the chance to be useful. She stopped abruptly when she got close. The cabinets in the kitchen all fl
ew open. The doors began rattling and the floorboards swayed under their feet. “Corruption. Get it out.”
Ceri quickly wrapped it back in the napkin. Derek grabbed it from her and ran for the back door, which flew open to let him out, then slammed shut behind him.
“Who could create that?” Ceri asked quickly, glancing around nervously.
“Someone who has turned their back on all that is good. A murderer and corrupter,” Illya snarled, her delicate features twisting into a hateful mask.
“An elf though? Or a witch?” Tommy asked. They had to get answers before Illya tore the house down around them.
“An elf.”
“Thank you,” Ceri said, lifting her hand and releasing whatever magic she had used to summon Illya. The elf’s specter disappeared with a pop and the house went quiet.
“Well, that was terrifying,” Genevieve muttered, plopping down on the couch.
“Those tunnels were built by witches, but is it possible an elf could access that…amulet, or whatever you called it, to get through that curse on the back exit?” Amber asked.
Ceri nodded. “Anyone with magic could manage it.”
“This troll that disappeared, what happened?” Kadrithan asked.
Tommy quickly re-explained it, including the phone call and the woman’s voice on the other end.
“Maybe this elf killed Laurel, then went back to the tunnels and Deward was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Genevieve suggested.
“Maybe, but why did she take him with her and not just kill him? Taking him is harder and riskier,” Tommy said, joining her on the couch. He was bone tired but sleep just wasn’t going to happen tonight.
“She must need him for something; perhaps to frame for the murder,” Kadrithan said, drifting back and forth in front of the couch like he was pacing. It was weird to see him doing such human things.
“You can only show up places where someone you have marked is,” Tommy said, something dawning on him.
Kadrithan stilled. “And?”
“Laurel had one of your marks.”
“Had, being the operative word, since she is now dead.”
Amber frowned at him. “Was she killed because of something you asked her to do?”
“I highly doubt––”
Amber’s glare cut off his response.
He sighed dramatically, the shadows twisting in irritation. “I don’t know. I was visiting her to check on her progress on the task I had given her, but she was already dead when I arrived. She had to have been killed after sundown the previous day, or her mark would have already faded, but I believe she was killed perhaps an hour before I arrived. Maybe less.”
“What task?” Tommy asked.
“That is not something I will be sharing no matter how much Amber glares at me. I have told you enough tonight. You have the information you need to find this elf that took your friend.” Kadrithan disappeared with a low pop.
Amber growled, baring her teeth like she was in wolf form. “I’m going to strangle him.”
“He was more useful than he usually is,” Tommy said, leaning his head back against the cushions and staring at the ceiling. “We have way more information than we did two hours ago.”
Genevieve picked Captain Jack up and set the massive cat on both their laps. “True, the only question is, what do we do now?”
Chapter 32
Tommy
Tommy had no intention of running into Thallan while he was here. Since it was before dawn, the old drunkard should be passed out somewhere.
He jumped, catching the lower edge of the second story balcony and hauling himself up over the banister. Once safely on the balcony, he stopped and listened intently for footsteps. There was nothing.
The board covering this window had come loose. He pushed it inward, cringing at the loud crack when it broke near the nails on the other side.
He stepped through the opening and replaced the board. The hallway was dark and musty. Rain had been leaking through the gap in the board for a while and the carpet under the window was still soggy with it, unable to fully dry without sunlight or airflow.
Thallan was crazy but he had also been obsessed with killing Kadrithan. Right now, Tommy needed information. He knew the elf wouldn’t be forthcoming but there had to be something around here that could explain more about demons and angels. Maybe even something about how an elf could take over someone’s mind. All he knew was that he couldn’t sit still.
With no idea where he should go, Tommy simply picked a direction, heading left down the dark hallway. The hall was lined with empty bedrooms, their doors open since there was nothing left inside to protect.
However, at the end of the hall there was something different. One room was sealed off like a tomb. Boards had been haphazardly nailed over it. He pried them off one at a time. If Thallan sealed it off, then it was probably the best place to look.
With one last cautious glance over his shoulder, he pulled off the last board and opened the door. A wave of fresh air rolled out of the room, catching him by surprise.
Stepping inside was like stepping into an oasis. Despite the dim light of the moon filtering through the windows, it felt bright and fresh inside. The curtains were thrown open, revealing what would have been a beautiful view of the garden once upon a time. The tall windows were lined with plants, all of them still in bloom. Whatever sickness was sucking the life away from the mansion hadn’t touched this place yet.
A shawl hung from the back of a brightly colored plush chair that looked out of place with the rest of the subtle decor. He wandered farther in, noting a book with a slightly crumpled receipt tucked in its pages had been left on the seat.
As he looked around, he realized this must have been Illya’s study. Thallan probably boarded it up right after she died, leaving it exactly as it had been when she died.
He pulled the door shut then began searching the room more thoroughly. The book on the chair was something on magic in botany, which made sense considering all the plants that were scattered throughout the room. It smelled nice in here.
He spent a few minutes searching the shelves, but it quickly became clear there was nothing that would help him here. Illya had been into growing things, not demons or angels. It really was too bad she’d died. She seemed like a wonderful person.
It was hard to do quietly, but he managed to get a couple of boards back in place. The rest were a lost cause. Hopefully if Thallan found them, he’d think he tore them off in a drunken rage or something.
Unwilling to give up the search so quickly, Tommy wandered the second floor. A dried vomit stain at the bottom of a stairwell caught his attention. The stairs must lead up to the highest floor of the house. If Thallan was still going up there it was worth searching.
He stepped over the dried vomit and hurried up the stairs. It had been much more pleasant in Illya’s room, to say the least.
The stairs wound upward, the walls closing in the higher he got. Thallan’s scent was heavy here but not fresh. He figured the old bat must lurk up here often. If it was possible for an elf to turn into a vampire, Thallan would probably volunteer.
At the top of the tower, an open door beckoned him into a small, circular room. Stained glass windows colored the pre-dawn light that filtered into the room, giving everything a reddish cast. He stood in the doorway for a moment taking it all in.
If the rest of the house was decaying, this must be the rotten heart. Some of the floorboards were warped as if the roof had a leak. Trash, including broken bottles of cheap liquor, littered the floor. It was a mess.
He wrinkled his nose as he stepped inside. Thallan had definitely spent a lot of time in here. The stench of cigarettes overpowered any other smells. For once, he was thankful.
Walking around, he poked piles of trash with his foot to see if anything helpful was buried underneath. A half-broken bookshelf to the left of the door held a few dust-covered tomes. Poetry. Elvish history. Philosophy.
H
e sighed, about ready to give up when something caught his eye. In the corner was something…dark. The already dim lighting seemed to be unable to reach it but there was nothing casting a shadow on it. The scent of sulfur cut through the smell of the cigarettes as he slowly approached it. Kicking aside a pile of crumpled paper, he found a book.
It was bound in old leather, cracked and worn, with a strange symbol stamped on the front. He picked it up and flipped through the bent and torn pages. There were various summoning spells inside, none of them legal. At the very back was one simply titled: Demon.
This must be what Thallan had used to summon Kadrithan and make that deal with him. He read the summoning spell intently. It didn’t require much. Most of the instructions were simply notes on how to bargain along with examples of various common mistakes.
There was one note, however, that caught his eye. It didn’t make any sense.
While one should use caution around demons, it is the Great Deceivers around whom one must exercise the greatest caution. Do not be blinded by false promises from those that cannot be bound to a promise unlike the Demon.
“Who are the Great Deceivers?” he muttered, flipping back to the beginning of the book in search of clues.
A crash downstairs interrupted him. It was time to go. He tucked the book under his arm and sprinted back down the stairs, leaving out of the same window he entered through. There was no way he was risking getting caught by Thallan in there.
Hopefully he wouldn’t notice the book was missing anytime soon.
Chapter 33
Ceri
The tarot card was sitting on her pillow. Again. Ceri grabbed it and stomped into the kitchen, ready to put it down the garbage disposal this time. Looking at it was supposed to get the little weasel to stop showing up everywhere.
When she yanked her door open, she almost walked into Amber. She had a book tucked under her arm.
Misfit Fortune Page 15
