by J L Collins
I glared at him. “You know, you don’t have to be so careless about this whole thing. I know it’s just a job to you or whatever, but this is my family we’re talking about. Show a little more respect, will you?”
“Whoa, whoa. No need to get all angry with me. I was just asking a question.”
I folded my arms. “Right. Well, it looks like Uncle Gardner’s tip was a total dead-end. She said she hasn’t seen or heard from him in weeks. Since everything happened with Enoch. So now what?”
Gentry scratched as his chin. “I suppose we should get back. And let your uncle know about this. Maybe he can use his power of command to bring Brennrie in and question her some more.”
“No. Absolutely not. The poor thing as already gone through enough and she made it clear she had nothing to do with him afterward. We’ll tell Uncle Gardner what happened, but I will not have her being interrogated.”
A white-hot pain burned against my hip as soon as I raised my voice, and I hissed. I moved my hand under the cloak and nearly forgot it was the pendant hiding there, glowing brightly even through the fabric. I tried to cover it up before Gentry saw but his eyes swept over where my hand was inside the cloak, his dark eyebrows rising slowly.
He didn’t say anything about the glowing object in my pocket, but I knew he wasn’t an idiot. He probably had guessed his boss had given me something as a precaution. How he felt about not being included in this, I didn’t know.
“Maybe she was purposefully being deceitful. Not outright lying—I know that’s impossible. But the Fae are very tricky when they want to be.”
I shook my head. “No. She wasn’t trying to deceive me. She didn’t trust you, but she said she trusted me. I don’t see why she’d be anything than one-hundred-percent honest with me.”
“Suit yourself. But if that tip did end up coming from her, she’s going to have to answer to the MARC. Whether she likes it or not.”
Gentry wasn’t a bad guy and the determined look in his eye wasn’t malevolent, but I knew he was in it to win it when it came to tracking down my brother. And I still didn’t know how I was going to use this to get to him first.
29
The Hidden
“Your drooling has become a problem.”
A soft, fluffy something swatted at my arm thrown over the side of the bed.
“Go away,” I mumbled, vaguely aware of the wetness on my chin and pillow. My head was still pounding as if I were hungover. I guess after spending the day fighting off Fae magic, I sort of was.
“If you insist. Although I must tell you that the mongrel is crying downstairs. Apparently, he requires food.”
Without missing a beat, I opened one bleary eye. “Then why don’t you make him something? It’s not that hard, Osh. I do it for you practically every morning.”
The brilliant white sharp edges of Oisín’s teeth became visible as he grinned. “I could very well do that. I believe there’s some spare rat poison underneath the kitchen sink, in fact.”
I sat up and glared at him. “Must you always be such a jerk to my dog? What has he done to you? You act as if you’re actually a cat with a bone to pick with him. Or maybe your feline brain has overtaken the rest of you.” One could only dream.
Oisín’s tail flicked behind him as he jumped down from my bed onto the floor. “He follows me around like a depraved lunatic. It’s as if he enjoys me picking on him.”
And with that he was out the bedroom door and down the hall. I shook my head.
“Well, there’s no accounting for good taste.”
It took a hot shower, a hair brush, and some toothpaste to feel normal again but once I’d thrown on a t-shirt and shorts, I tucked the pendant inside my shirt and padded down the hallway and into the kitchen. I knew it was mid-morning without even looking at the clock on the wall, by the way the sunlight was slanting through the windows.
Pushing back the sheers on the window at the sink, I sighed. A gorgeous day and here I was, stuck inside feeling like absolute crap. It figured. I was essentially playing hooky from work and I wasn’t even able to really enjoy it.
Jax yipped at my ankles, his tail wagging like crazy as I bent down and scratched behind his furry ears. “Hey buddy. You hungry?”
He leaned into my hand before licking it like an ice cream cone.
“Okay, okay,” I laughed. “I’ll get you some food. In fact, I should probably feed myself, too.” I poured his kibble into his bowl, nudging it into the usual corner with my foot, and poured some fresh water into his other bowl. “If only it were that simple to make myself something to eat.”
The pendant hummed against my chest, teasing me. It wanted me to use magic. It would be only too easy to make a quick omelet, or even something more complex using it. I wasn’t exactly known for my cooking prowess, after all. The pendant must have sensed my hesitation.
“No. That’s not what this is for,” I reminded myself out loud, garnering a quirky look from Jax before he dove back into his food. “I can do this on my own. That’s what I signed up for.”
I leaned against the counter, staring out the front window of the house. I did truly miss having the ability to use my magic however I wanted. It always felt a little like cheating whenever I wanted to use it here in the Human Realm. Not to mention the fact that it wasn’t nearly as powerful here. But was that the real reason that stopped me? Or was it the guilt I had about Fiona-Leigh?
The mailman stopped outside the mailbox outside, tossing what I hoped weren’t bills into the black box before driving off to the next one. I noticed the door to Sully’s house was opened, and sure enough, Sully himself was outside watering a pitiful bunch of azalea bushes that looked as though they hadn’t flowered in years. I bit my lip to keep from grinning.
If he could try and take on that old garden, then why couldn’t I cook something simple enough? I grabbed my phone and typed in ‘chocolate chip muffins,’ in hopes that I could find an easy recipe to follow.
Forty-five minutes later and the smoke alarm was blaring in the living room, the kitchen completely under a fog of acrid-smelling smoke coming from the very burnt pan of muffins I managed to ruin. I threw open all of the windows in an effort to air the place out, coughing and waving the foul smoke away from me.
“Sorry buddy,” I yelled over the sound of the alarm as Jax howled along with it. Oisín, of course, was long gone. Probably stalking the neighborhood for rats or something.
Once I got most of the foul smell and smoke out of my house, I slumped against the oven, utterly defeated.
“Ugh. Maybe everyone’s right, Jax. Maybe I am the world’s worst cook.”
I dumped the inedible muffins into a plastic bag and double-knotted it just to be on the safe side, before tossing it outside into the big plastic trash can. Relegating myself to ordering take-out instead, I fumbled through the junk drawer in the kitchen, looking through the different paper menus.
But the pendant started glowing underneath my shirt again, a warm sensation prickling against my skin. Would it really be so bad to use magic just this once? After all, I’d be more than happy to share whatever I make with others…
I looked down at Jax. “Don’t judge me. I’ve been a good girl. I think I deserve one delicious success, don’t you?”
His ears quirked up as he tilted his head to one side, curious.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
The perfectly melted chocolate chips seemed to glisten in the sunlight as I adjusted the glass lid to the muffin tin and stepped off the curb and into the street. I couldn’t help but feel like June Cleaver delivering baked goods to the monthly PTA meeting and didn’t even try to hold back the grin that spread across my face as I walked up to Sully’s screen door and knocked.
“Just a second!”
I tried not to be too nosy-neighborish and looked around the street, pretending not to notice when Sully stood in the doorway.
“Oh, hey. I didn’t realize it was time for Fiona-Leigh to go home,” he said,
smiling at me as the screen door creaked when he opened it.
“No, not at all. I uh, actually wanted to um, bring these over to you. To all of you,” I added, holding up the muffin pan. “Do you like chocolate chips, by any chance?”
“Do I like chocolate chips? I mean, who doesn’t?” The corner of his mouth upturned, revealing a cute dimple hidden under dark hair.
“Probably people who are allergic to chocolate and could die just by eating it. Oh . . . I mean, oh. Wow, sorry.” My eyes went wide. How was I already screwing this all up? “Didn’t mean to sound so morbid.”
He waved me off as he took the muffin pan from me, still with that same crooked smile. “No need to worry about being too morbid with me. That’s kind of my thing.”
I raised a brow. That was not the answer I was expecting. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, you know. I deal with death every day at work.”
I smacked my forehead. “Of course. Sorry, I completely forgot about that. That just totally went over my head.”
“I get it. Most people try to forget about it if I’m being honest. Like they’re scared to catch something.” He shook his head, his dark tangle of curls shifting as he did. “Anyway, thank you for the muffins. They smell great.”
I bit my lip. “I hope they taste good, too. I’m a little out of practice in the kitchen.” Why the heck did I just admit that?
“Pfft, nothing that a few cooking lessons couldn’t fix. I don’t know if Marina’s told you or not, but my parents were both chefs. They taught me and her mother everything we know.”
“How wonderful. My mother wasn’t so bad in the kitchen either, although she dealt more with plants and the like. More herbal and medicinal than food-related,” I explained. “If your parents are ever in town maybe you could let me know. I’m always willing to learn.” Smiling, I lightly smacked at a metal ladle hanging from the pot rack over the kitchen island. It clanged loudly as it fell to the counter. There was no way I wasn’t bright red now.
Sully cleared his throat, running his hand through his thick hair. “Actually uh, that’s not really possible. My parents both died a few years ago.”
Horror washed over me. “Oh my gosh, Sully, I’m so sorry. God, I’m such an idiot. I really had no idea.” Leave it to me to bring up someone’s dead parents. It was bad enough when I was on the receiving end of that one.
But of course, he shrugged, the same easy smile springing back up on his handsome face. “Nah, don’t worry about it. You didn’t know. Marina wasn’t super close with our parents anyway, so she may not have said anything about it. My sister didn’t keep in touch with them.” Something flickered in his dark eyes before he set to work prying the plastic lid off the muffin pan. “Why don’t we do a little taste-testing here and see if you’re up to snuff?”
I chuckled. “I apologize in advance for any digestive issues you may—”
“Oh wow, these are great! Mmph, and you said you were a bad cook,” he mumbled through a mouthful of muffin. Wiping his face, he shook his head. “You really had me believing you were bad cook, you know.”
“Are they really? I mean . . . I didn’t think they’d be too bad or anything.” I lifted one of the muffins up to taste it, thoroughly surprised by the light and buttery taste just moist enough for it to be a muffin, but not too sweet to be a cupcake. “Whoa. These aren’t so bad.”
“You’re going to have to hand over the recipe on this one,” he laughed, finishing his off. “And here I was, thinking I could offer you some cooking lessons.”
I paused, a knot tightening in my chest. “I mean, I could always use the help. I really am a bad cook. I think I just got lucky with these.”
“Mom! What are you doing here?” Fiona-Leigh asked, looking a little pale. “I was getting ready to go home and find you.”
I took one look at her and my smile faded. “Is everything okay?”
“Is something wrong with Marina?” Sully asked instinctively, concern written all over his face.
But Fiona-Leigh quickly shook her head. “No, nothing like that. It’s um…” she leaned in to drop her voice, “girl problems. Can I talk to you, please?”
At the mention of girl problems, Sully cleared his throat and turned back to face the pot rack, sticking the ladle back up where it belonged.
I let her pull me out into the living room and back outside and down the front steps before I stopped her. “Hey, you don’t have to drag me around. If you need tampons, just go to the house and get some. Or change if you need to.”
“It’s not really girl problems, Mom, I just didn’t want to say anything in front of Sully,” she said, sounding impatient. “Me and Marina are kind of freaking out right now. Follow me.”
“But—”
“C’mon!”
She yanked at my arm again and I followed after her around the side of the house, past the bushes and into the back yard. We stopped right outside of the newer looking red-painted shed sitting against the back fence line.
“Okay. What’s going on?”
Marina was standing outside of the shed, her eyes wide.
“I didn’t know what to do— I think the shed’s haunted,” Fiona-Leigh said all in one breath. She looked at me expectantly.
“Uh, what now? You think the shed is haunted? Why?”
“Because things keep moving around in there but there’s no one there? Why else?” she replied, tapping her foot on the ground. “They’re real, right? I thought I read somewhere in one of Erie’s books . . .”
I sighed. “Yes, honey, they’re real. But the odds of there being a ghost here in the Human Realm are practically unheard of. They’re only found in our—in the Other Realm. They don’t like interacting with this one and I really doubt there’s one taking up residence in Sully’s shed.”
“Can’t you just check?” she whined. “Plus, Marina is super freaked and even if there isn’t one, I was hoping you could you know,” she leaned in again, “do some magic to make her forget about it.”
The pendant was warm against my skin again but I ignored it. “Look, I’ll see what’s going on in there but I’m sure it’s just some kind of animal.”
Fiona-Leigh nodded and moved to the side, walking up to Marina. “Don’t worry, Mom’s got it all covered,” she said to her, patting Marina’s shoulder.
“Do you think it’s a ghost?” Marina asked, looking more terrified than I’d ever seen her. I was shocked considering just how fearless Marina was when it came to practically anything else. Between the two of them, Fiona-Leigh was definitely the more level-headed one.
I smiled at her. “Not at all. Ghosts aren’t real, honey. Like I told her, it’s probably just some stray animal or something.”
I took a deep breath, felt for the pendant, and imagined a few words the quick chant in my mind just as Marina took a step backward. Her foot froze in mid-air, her face slack.
“What did you do to her?” Fiona-Leigh hissed at me, following after me as I wrenched open the heavy wooden door.
“Calm down, Fi. I just stopped her. It’ll make it easier to perform a quick memory-erasing spell on her once I show you this isn’t a ghost in here.”
The moment I pulled the door open though, a few boxes in the very back fell over and I jumped, immediately whipping out my wand even though it wasn’t of much use to me here.
“See?” she whispered right behind me, peeking over my shoulder.
“Give me light. Give me sight,” I thought inside my mind, pulling the pendant up and into my hand. The bright light pierced the darkness of the shed, casting eerie shadows across it. There was a whole assortment of boxes stacked everywhere, some big plastic containers, an old china hutch, and some lawn care tools shoved to one side. Nothing too weird or out of place.
“Hello?” I called out, just in case.
“If there’s an animal in there I don’t think it’s going to say hello back to you,” Fiona-Leigh snickered.
“If you don’t stop whispering in my ea
r I’m going to turn right around and let whatever it is stay and hang out,” I said from the side of my mouth.
Fiona-Leigh kept quiet.
Pushing a few of the lighter boxes out of the way, I waded through the mess, catching a mildewy scent about half-way in. Maybe old newspapers or books.
Something seemed to shuffle around in the back, and I paused, unsure. “Ahem. If you are a ghost haunting this poor man’s shed, I suggest you find a lovely abandoned shack somewhere outside of town, instead.”
Was it just my imagination, or did I hear a dry chuckle?
Judging by Fiona-Leigh’s expression, I wasn’t the only one.
I slowly edged forward, biting my tongue after stubbing my toe against something solid. This was not how I’d imagined my visit with Sully Pritchett to go.
The back of the shed appeared to be empty—at least of life. There was plenty of junk and yep, I’d spotted the source of the stench. Old magazines stuffed in a couple of plastic milk crates. I was just about to turn and tell Fiona-Leigh there was nothing in here when I most definitely heard a cough.
“Okay. Whoever you are—whatever you are—it’s time to get out. Now. I won’t ask again.”
I held up the pendant, ready to strike if necessary, but the light washed over a thick, woolen blanket I hadn’t noticed before as if it had just come into view. Curious, I nudged at the edge of the blanket with my foot, surprised to connect with not just the blanket but something else.
“Mom . . .” Fiona-Leigh warned me softly from behind.
I carefully took one corner of the blanket and holding my breath, yanked it back, letting out an almighty yell before quickly covering my mouth with my own hand.
Underneath the blanket was a person. A person I knew all too well.
I sucked in a quick breath as I took in the lanky build, the dirt smeared across high cheekbones and matted hair that was usually a dark blonde. It was his dark blue eyes that got me. I’d seen them every day for most of my life.
I struggled to call out his name. “Tristan?”