by Nova Nelson
“Oh nothing,” he said, his voice darkening. “Just that it’s becoming clear it’s never been them causing the problems. It’s their loser son. I’m glad I could get clarification.”
I struggled for what to say. I did feel sorry for him, despite his jab about Fifth Winds. “I don’t think it’s like that, Donovan. And I’m sorry you’re hurting but—”
All signs of pain vanished from his face, replaced by a glossy smile. “I’m not hurting. I never hurt. You can save your pity. It might ruin your spa day.”
“Now you’re just being a jerk,” I said, gripping my paper-wrapped sandwich so tightly I could feel it squish.
He held up his hands. “You knew what you were getting into with me.”
“Oh, for fang’s sake. Can we just back up a little here? We were having a lovely little stroll, and then—I don’t actually know what happened, but now you’ve completely shut down on me and”—I held up my sandwich—“I’ve mashed up my lunch.”
He nodded, and I thought he was on board. Because all it ever took for two people to stop bickering was both to agree to stop bickering.
But then he said, “Yep. I’ve ruined another person’s meal. Great. Good work, Donovan, you’ve done it again.”
My mouth hung open, and I stammered, trying to get a handle on where he was at. “I’m not trying to blame you.”
As he turned his back on me, he said, “You know what, it’s probably best if you get out while you can.”
“Are you… breaking up with me?”
He called over his shoulder, “Nope.” And then he walked away.
Malavic’s insinuations about Donovan floated to the surface of my mind. Had Donovan really orchestrated the debacle with the portal in the Deadwoods? When he acted like this, it didn’t seem entirely impossible…
No. I refused to believe it.
Didn’t I?
I glanced around me and noticed a small cluster of park lunchers staring out from under the woolen hoods of their coats. I met the eyes of one of them, a lovely faun woman who delivered dry ingredients to Medium Rare each week, and she shrugged her shoulders like she didn’t know what had just happened either.
I tossed my sloppy sandwich into the nearest trashcan—I’d lost my appetite anyway—and decided I might as well head to the first stop of our ladies’ day.
Relaxation would be nice after whatever the heck that was. I mean, I knew Donovan’s family was a trigger for him, but I guess I didn’t realize just how big of one. I could probably never realize that, given I didn’t have personal experience to draw from.
Maybe he just needs to blow off some steam. He’ll apologize later. At least he didn’t break up with you.
Except that thought posed a question of its own. Had I just admitted we were together by asking if we were breaking up?
No, surely he’d understood what I’d meant.
Oh yeah? Just like he understood what you meant with everything else?
That was true. He’d always claimed he understood me better than anyone else, that we were just like each other. But lately it’d felt like we were speaking a different language. I guess not everyone was as good at giving people the benefit of the doubt as Tann—
Nope. Not going there.
But still, the thought of Tanner made my insides ache, and I realized I wanted nothing more right now than to feel his arms around me, to hear him tell me not to worry, that he believed in me, that he loved me.
Did I just want that so badly because it was the one thing I couldn’t have?
If you haven’t noticed, that’s sort of my M.O. So maybe that was all it was. It wasn’t hard to recall how badly I’d wanted Donovan back when what I had was Tanner.
Do I still want Donovan now?
Duh. Of course. Just look at the guy! And when he wasn’t being cranky, he was fun conversation. As soon as we got past this family messiness, I’d be sure to show him just how much I wanted him. I needed to get out of my head about this. It didn’t have to be this complicated.
And luckily, I had just the right plans to forget all about men and murder, and simply relax.
I paused outside the waterfall front door of Atlantis Day Spa. When Serena had sent over the letter detailing the plan, I’d initially wondered if it was a sick joke, if maybe she had heard about my first few months in Eastwind and wanted to play a cruel trick on me. Because scheduling our spa day at the workplaces of two murderers I helped catch was about the best way to do that.
But then I’d realized I was just being self-absorbed. Atlantis Day Spa was pure luxury to anyone who hadn’t almost been drowned to death by a Nix in it. And our next stop after it, Echo’s Salon, no longer employed a murderous Xana who got off on driving people insane with her song.
Besides, I needed a haircut, so I could get one of those and opt out of the manicure, which wouldn’t last a day on the job at Medium Rare.
I thought about waiting inside of Atlantis. While it was a sunny day, it was still chilly. But I wasn’t in a hurry to go in. I wondered if Aeldoran still worked there. The elf hadn’t liked me from the start, and I doubted that would change after I got one of his coworkers hauled off to Ironhelm Penitentiary.
“Nora!”
I turned toward the voice. “Hey, Serena. Hi, Mrs. Stringfellow.”
“Jasmine, please,” she replied.
“Are we late?” Serena asked, concern drawing the slightest line between her brows. She glanced at a watch on her wrist. The band looked like woven vines (and might have been, actually). It was always weird seeing little things like wristwatches that reminded me no one had any cell phones to check. My guess was that Serena’s watch was manual, as elves took pride in their clocks.
“No, I was just early. I, uh, I don’t really know what to do when I’m not working.” Best not to even bring up Donovan around these two, let alone that our lovely walk had spiraled into an argument.
Serena laughed. “I wouldn’t know what to do if I was working.”
“Wait,” I said, following her in through the waterfall (I shivered as the magic of it tingled over my skin), “what do you mean?”
“Oh, just that I’ve never had to work. I suppose university was a little like a job.”
My eyes flickered to Jasmine as I wondered if she found this idea absurd too. The witch didn’t bat an eye.
So, knowing I’d get no solidarity, I decided against screaming, “Your fiancé is scraping for money and you’re not even offering to get a job to help out?!”
She didn’t even seem even the slightest bit ashamed by it, either. She just flipped her long hair behind her shoulder and greeted Aeldorian as he approached. The snobbish elf didn’t see me immediately, which I could tell from the carefree way he grinned. He greeted his fellow elf like an old friend, even though there was no way they’d ever met. And when his gaze did land on me, there was a moment where he recoiled and one of his eyes twitched. He looked back to Serena, then to me, then back to her. “Are you with her?”
“Yuh-huh!” Serena replied cheerily.
I could feel Jasmine eyeing me. She was trying to put the pieces together. I saved her the trouble shortly after, once we were all in our swim suits, soaking in the hot spring water of the cavern just off the front sitting area.
I breathed in the steam, appreciating that it lacked the chlorinated smell of a hot tub. I nodded toward Aeldorian off in the distance. “We go way back,” I said. Maybe it was the warm water relaxing my muscles, but I suddenly didn’t see why I couldn’t be completely honest about my past relationship with this place.
“Oh yeah?” Serena asked. “Did you work here?”
“No…” I hesitated when I saw the shrewd look on Jasmine’s face. Had she read about it in the paper? Did she already have some warped idea of what had happened? Had she already made up her mind about it based on whatever biased take she found in the Eastwind Watch? “One of the former employees murdered a werewolf up in Hightower Gardens and tried to make it look like a suicide. Th
e spirit enlisted my help, and I ended up tracking the killer back here.”
There was no amount of hot water or essential oils that would make me dredge up the rest of that story—about the near drowning, the narrow escape.
Jasmine finally spoke. “And where was the actual law enforcement? Asleep on the job?”
I didn’t appreciate that tone at all. Sure, I often had to pick up the slack for Stu, but I’d like to see her try to police the whole crazy town on her own. “Deputy Manchester was waiting outside. He jumped on her and arrested her. He saved my life.”
Serena nodded, looking at me with wide eyes. “How many deputies does this town have?”
I swallowed hard. “Only one now.”
“Now?”
I avoided Jasmine’s eyes. “There were two, but one left.”
Jasmine made a sad clucking noise, and I couldn’t help but look at her then. But she was staring at Serena. “So sad. Tanner Culpepper. He was Donovan’s best friend since they were kids. Poor boy had the worst luck. Ended up sacrificing himself to save the town.” And now she looked at me. “And he was your fiancé, right?”
Serena gasped, a hand flying out of the water to cover her mouth.
“Not yet,” I said. “I mean, no. He was just my boyfriend.” And the first man I truly loved.
“I’m so sorry, Nora,” Serena said, and I forced a smile.
“Thanks. It’s been months since that happened.”
“Only months?”
Ouch. I knew what she really meant by that. Only months and you’re already dating someone else? His best friend, no less?
“Well, it’s not like he’s dead.”
“Oh,” said the elf, looking suddenly confused.
“He had to go through a portal to my old world. He’s still alive, he just can’t come back.”
That explanation left her looking more uncertain.
Jasmine intervened. “Surely it made the news in Avalon, right? There was a big battle. Hans and I decided to stay home for the Hallow’s Faire, so we missed it, but I saw the damage the next day and it was quite catastrophic.”
“I don’t read the news,” Serena said, probably to the surprise of no one. “But it sounds scary.”
“It was,” said Jasmine.
It was?! She wasn’t even there! I’d thought the whole of Eastwind was at the Hallow’s Faire, that the whole point of it was for the town to come together on the most terrifying and insane day of the year. But apparently Mr. and Mrs. Stringfellow were too good to mingle with commoners for any reason. And she hadn’t even visited the Eastwind Emporium until the next day?
I was starting to understand Donovan’s bitterness. Or maybe I’d caught it from him. Was communicable disdain a thing?
I shut my eyes, focusing on my muscles, isolating each group and trying to will it to relax. Who knew when my next spa day would be… or if I’d ever carve out the time for one again. There was no reason to let anyone taint it. I was an adult, and I could choose how to react to others.
“I’ve tried to convince Donovan to stop bartending”—she said it like a dirty word—“and apply for the open position at the sheriff’s department, but he refuses.” Jasmine sighed. “Probably just as well. He never has been especially brave.”
My eyes shot open, and I sat up straighter against the smooth stone wall. “I respectfully disagree,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound petulant. “He went into the Deadwoods with me to stop a demon once. I didn’t even ask him to. He just wouldn’t let me go by myself. If walking into the Deadwoods with nothing but a Fifth Wind and a grim isn’t brave, I don’t know what it is.”
“Foolish, perhaps,” said Jasmine. She chuckled. “Oh, come on. You know he’s been pining after you forever. He’s always been a fool for Tanner’s girls.”
I didn’t have a response. Or maybe I had too many responses, none of them appropriate for the tranquil setting.
To Serena’s credit, the cruel comment made her uncomfortable too, and she said, “Do you think they have anything to drink?”
“Yep,” I said quickly. “They have sparkleberry-infused water. I’ll go grab some.”
As I filled three cups, I nodded to Aeldorean to get his attention. “They’re getting anxious to get started on the massages. Those are each in private rooms, right?”
He nodded.
“Perfect.”
Chapter Fifteen
The massage that followed our soak was worth every penny, and by the end of it, I felt a lot less upset about Jasmine’s bitter words. And less upset about everything—war, famine, poor tippers.
I was a new woman. And the fact that my massage was in a separate room from the other two had something to do with that, I’ll admit.
I was also especially glad of my decision to get my hair cut rather than sit with Serena and Jasmine at the manicurist’s table when we walked up the block to Echo’s Salon. While I kept the stylist in check (“No, just a trim. Seriously.”) they chattered in a way that made it clear Jasmine at least approved of Leonardo’s choice in women.
No, I wasn’t bitter. Not at all.
“Are you sure you don’t want it colored?” asked the stylist for, oh, I don’t know, the fifteenth time? She was a frumpy witch with magenta hair that would’ve eroded my trust in her ability to dye hair if I’d had any desire for it in the first place.
“I’m sure I don’t want it colored,” I said. “The cut is all I needed. Thanks.”
It was a good cut, but then again I wasn’t fussy. Lose the split ends, add a few layers to give it volume so I didn’t look like a wet Grim.
“I’m just saying,” she went on, “the grays are… visible.”
“Yep,” I said. “And I’ve earned every one of them.” And after all her pestering, I was pretty sure I’d earned a few more just in the last hour.
Echo Chambers was lounging in an overstuffed chair by the front window, doing nothing but sipping on a citrus blast and watching his employees make him money. I guess hiring people to fan him with palm leaves wasn’t in the satyr’s budget.
“Oh no,” said Ladavian behind the counter. “You’re all paid up. She grabbed it.” He nodded toward the manicures, and I leaned over the desk to quietly ask, “Who did? The witch or the elf?”
“The elf.”
I stepped back, trying to compute. Jasmine had paid for the spa visit, which was both generous and a little annoying (I made fine money, and I almost never spent it, so I wasn’t exactly hurting for cash). But how did Serena pay for this if she and Leonardo were struggling? Did they have separate accounts and she simply refused to tap into hers for certain things? Or maybe this was on credit?
The latter seemed unlikely since Eastwind didn’t have credit cards. It was more of an honors system. Some places would keep accounts, but only for those who they could track down if need be. I couldn’t imagine anyone, let alone Echo Chambers, allowing someone from out of town to start a running tab.
Something wasn’t adding up here. Literally.
“Hey,” I said, cautiously interrupting Serena and Jasmine’s conversation. Their hands were still draped on the table as two goblins painted elaborate portraits on each nail—Jasmine had opted for an aquatic theme with dolphins and even a little pinprick turtle while Serena’s nails looked like a dense forest with little woodland creatures frolicking on each. The detail was mind-boggling, but I didn’t have attention to spare.
The women looked up at me and smiled.
“Thanks so much for the—”
“Oh, Nora!” squealed Serena. “Your hair looks great!”
“Thanks.” She was overdoing it; I’d only gotten an inch off the bottom at most and a few subtle layers.
What? I have enough of the unexpected in my life without doing anything drastic to my hair.
“And thanks for picking up the tab,” I added. “You really didn’t have to do that. I make good money”—and I couldn’t resist adding—“from my job.”
“Oh, please. It’s my treat
. I’m just so excited to finally visit Eastwind and I know you’re working hard on the case. Someone ought to treat you to a little pampering.”
“I thought you’d get it colored,” said Jasmine.
I inhaled deeply and exhaled the snark. Let it go, Nora. “No. Like I told the hairdresser, I’ve earned every single one of these.”
Oops! Should have exhaled more snark.
“Following in Ruby True’s footsteps in more ways than one,” Jasmine said, smiling smugly.
I didn’t really know what it felt like to have someone insult my mother, but I suspected it felt something like this. Was she scorning Ruby for having gray hair? I tried to imagine the old Fifth Wind with dyed hair, and I couldn’t even guess what color her hair had been before it went white. Ruby as a blonde or brunette or redhead seemed absolutely ridiculous. I loved Ruby’s wild silver mop. “I guess not living in denial that we’ll someday grow old and die is part of being a Fifth Wind. Anyway, I should go check in at Medium Rare. Thanks again for the lovely day. Enjoy your manicure.”
The fact that their hands were occupied spared me the awkward possibility of hugs, though I wasn’t sure if they would’ve bothered after all.
Feeling not so triumphant as beat down after standing my ground, I stepped out into the chilly dusk air and paused to take a few deep breaths. How many hours had I just wasted on that spa day? I thought of all the other more productive things I could have done on my day off. Big surprise: it didn’t help my mood.
I had a sudden impulse to head straight to Franco’s Pizza, where I knew Donovan would be busy bartending, and let him know that I totally understood now. I’d just spent the last four hours with his mother, and under the most relaxing circumstances imaginable, and yet I was totally annoyed and amped up.
The poor guy had had to spend the first eighteen years of his life with her, enduring her snide comments and subtle scorn. I shivered but I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the bleakness of growing up in a house like that. My aunt had been horrible to me, but at least she was forthright about it. She didn’t do it in a way where she had plausible deniability about being cruel.
