by J L Collins
Tristan cocked an eyebrow at her. “Gentry? Who’s that?”
She giggled and leaned forward, obviously anticipating where this was going. “Oh, just a cute Shadow Hand that works for Uncle Gardner. And he’s like the lead Shadow Hand, I think. He totally has a crush on Mom in that brooding sort of way. Kind of like a character from one of those teen vampire movies. Just without the sparkling.”
“Sparkling? Wait . . . I’m confused. This guy works for Uncle G?” He rose slowly from the table, a stony expression on his face.
“Uh, yes? Why? Do you know him?” I asked.
“I don’t suppose his last name is Whitemourn?”
Something twitched in my stomach, but this time it wasn’t from guilt. “What is it, Tristan?”
The tendons in his arms tightened and his jaw clenched. “Gentry Whitemourn isn’t working for Uncle G . . .”
I sucked in a breath. “What do you mean, exactly?”
“I mean he’s not part of the MARC. Not really.” He swore quietly under his breath, and began pacing back and forth. “Remember what I said about Delaney and her boyfriend leading Enoch into his own death trap? Delaney’s boyfriend? You’re apparently working with the guy.”
33
The Spy
I stared at him, unblinking. “That can’t be right.”
Fiona-Leigh frowned at him. “But, but that doesn’t make any sense. I mean, he works for Uncle Gardner!”
Tristan ran his hand through his hair, turning his back away from everyone. “I know, I heard what you said,” he turned back around, panic clear on his face, “but I’m telling you, Gwen, that man right there? He’s the one who killed Enoch, not me. There’s no way I’m misinformed, before you try and say anything. I think I would remember the guy watched with my own eyes, killing my boss.”
Glancing down at the phone still open to the picture of Gentry and I, I slowly rose from the table, my mind racing. “So now what?”
It was more of a rhetorical question than anything. What I really wanted to say though, was something along the lines of, ‘How could I have missed this? How could I have not known?’ I kept it to myself though and rubbed at the throbbing that was starting to spread outward from my temples. I sat on the news for a moment, chewing it over in my mind, desperate to find some sane thought to hold onto. “We need to make sure what you’re saying is true before we act on anything.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, because what a travesty it would be, to go after the wrong guy.”
“Look, I get it. You’re angry—the real killer left you to take the blame for Enoch’s death and now everyone is on the hunt to find you. But we need to know for sure. I need to know for sure, because if what you’re saying is true then we have a big problem on our hands.”
Fiona-Leigh’s eyes were wide as I went into detail about everything I knew about Gentry and everything Uncle Gardner had told me. In my uncle’s eyes, Gentry could do no wrong, and I didn’t know how exactly that would pair up with the fact that Uncle Gardner was a very proud and stubborn man who despised being told he was misinformed. He’s a good man, but pity on the fool who would tell him he was wrong about one of his own judgment calls. Which of course in this case, I’d be that fool.
“Why can’t you just believe me and take my word for it?” Tristan whispered hoarsely, suddenly looking years older.
I place my hand on my brother shoulder, sighing. “It’s not that I don’t believe you Tristan, but think about it like this: if we go barging into Uncle Gardner’s office, spouting off about how his top selected shadow hand is really the killer, how do you think she’ll take it?”
Tristan dropped his head. “Not so well, I’d imagine.”
I nodded. “Exactly. We need definitive proof here. The next step is to figure out how to obtain it.” Drumming my fingers along the top of the table, I thought about how we could tell if Gentry was being honest with us or not. “We’re going to need to follow him. Preferably to the Dark Market, if at all possible. That way we can get a good glimpse of what he’s really like when no one else is around. If he leads us to Delaney, then so be it.”
“All right, there’s just one problem. How are we going to follow him without him noticing? Even though he’s a piece of crap traitor to us all, he did still go through the entire training process to become a Shadow Hand, Gwen. I think he’d know if someone was trailing him.”
He had a good point. It was next to impossible to follow someone like Gentry… He’d have to be completely caught off guard. “So, we need someone he wouldn’t expect. Not me, because obviously. And not you either, because everyone and their mother is out looking for you…”
Fiona-Leigh’s hand shot into the air as if she were sitting in a classroom. “I could do it. All you have to do is just—”
“No way,” Tristan and I said at the same time.
“It’s way too dangerous for you there,” I continued, a tiny piece of me thankful for Tristan already looking out for his niece. “We need someone else.”
I looked around the room, searching my mind. Everyone I knew in Spell Haven who would help us wasn’t exactly up for the job. Aunt Bedelia was great with magic, but I hated to think of what would happen if Tristan thought she was suspicious of him…
“I hate to interrupt your little pow-wow here, but is it almost time for my lunch?” Oisín stood up on his hind legs, scratching his back against the edge of the doorway. “I’m absolutely famished.”
Tristan’s head whipped around and at the same moment it was like a lightbulb went off in my head. I looked at my brother and he looked back at me, nodding.
“You know, I was thinking maybe we could go out for food tonight. One of those fancy French restaurants with the what is it called, Oisín? Those little fish you love to eat so well?”
You could practically hear Oisín drooling. “Anchovies?”
I smiled down at him. “Yeah, anchovies. What do you think?”
Oisín looked at me and then back over at Tristan, his yellow eyes narrowing. “I think you’re trying to con a con artist. What is it? What kind of dirty errand am I meant to be running?”
Well, at least he was on the same page. “We need someone Gentry won’t suspect to follow him around and see what he’s doing. You can do that for us, and no one will recognize you in the Dark Market since you’re a cat now. No offense.”
He rolled his eyes, and took a few small steps for before stretching out his back, the black fur standing on end. “And in return?”
“All-you-can-eat buffet, starring anchovies,” Fiona-Leigh said, smiling at him too. “Please, Osh?”
If it were possible for a cat to purse its lips, I’m pretty sure that’s what he was doing. Oisín finally heaved a great sigh. “If you insist. I don’t suppose this can wait until after lunch?”
I dropped Oisín to the soft grass, leaning to stretch my own back out. “Was it really necessary to have to carry you the entire way here?” I asked him, looking over my shoulder to make sure that Tristan and Fiona-Leigh were still behind us. The light filtering in through the trees just barely lit up the small, broken down cabin.
“Yes. It really was.” Oisín took delicate steps around the decrepit structure, letting out a soft hiss when something in the grass scurried off out of sight.
The magical, rippling energy of the Gateway shimmered and began to glow once we were close enough. “Remember, find him, carefully follow him but make sure he doesn’t see you. And report back as soon as you have any news,” I told him as he approached the Gateway.
“Yes, yes. And remember I told you that you might want to set up a reservation to the restaurant. Just in case it’s busy. We can’t have you backing out on your word,” he replied in a sing-songy tone.
“I’d never.”
“Hmmph.” And with that, Oisín let out a strangled meow as he crossed the gateway and disappeared within it.
The other two had just walked up, Fiona-Leigh laughing as Tristan recalled a time where Erie and I were
in trouble with Aunt Bee around her age.
“And then your mom and Erie thought they were going to slip out the window without getting caught . . . but Aunt Bee was in the back garden harvesting some Valerian Root or something. . .” he chuckled, his shoulders shaking. “And just as she was walking past the manor to go back to the Apothecarium, both Erie and your mom fell on top of her trying to climb out of the second story, nearly knocking her out!”
They both howled with laughter, Fiona-Leigh gripping her sides until tears streamed down her face. “That’s so horrible but so funny at the same time!”
“Ha. Ha,” I mumbled, leaning against the cabin. Something cracked underneath me and I quickly pulled away, dusting the splintered wood off my shoulders.
I had to admit though, it was nice seeing the two of them getting along like this. Before I ever thought we’d get the chance, I always imagined Fiona-Leigh would love him and his personality. They were both outgoing and funny in their own ways—it made me feel even more guilty for keeping her from everything.
The sun moved further and further to the west over the treetops, until it was just barely shining. I check my watch, feeling anxious. Oisín had been gone for several hours… I hated to think about the implications there. Even the side of Gentry I’d seen made me wonder how he would react to finding someone following him like this.
Then again, what did I know? I didn’t even have the slightest clue about him being a spy until just today! My stomach turned at the thought of all the time I spent with him trying to locate Tristan. We’d only hit dead ends, but now I was so thankful for that. I thought about how he reacted when we were at the Dark Market, trying to see if there were clues I’d missed. But he’d done his mission or what the heck ever, correctly. I really had no idea.
The whirring noise coming from the Gateway meant someone was getting ready to pass back through to our side. I rushed over just in time to see Oisín strolling through, wearing some kind of necklace made out of… meat?
“What did you find out?” I asked, breathlessly. “Did you see him?”
Oisín yawned. “Yes, I found our friend, Mr. Whitemourn. He keeps a rather interesting company, I must say.”
Fiona-Leigh interest in her by my side, Fiona-Leigh picking Oisín up before nearly dropping him again. “Ew, what the heck are you wearing? What is that?” she asked, her nose scrunched up.
“If you must know… I picked it up at one of the vendors. I’m not entirely sure what kind of meat it is, but it’s not good enough. Anyway,” he said lazily, turning back to me, “it’s as Tristan says. Once I sought Gentry out, I was particularly surprised to see that not only was he in the Dark Market, he seemed to be holding court in Enoch’s old place with none other than the beautifully terrifying Delaney Drakar. At least, that’s who I assumed it was, with the all-black leather and the wild, crazy look to her. And the pair of them, well, they seemed awfully close. I’d tell you how close, but there’s a child present.”
“Ugh,” Tristan said under his breath.
My stomach felt like it was suddenly full of lead. “Then it’s true. Gentry has been playing us this entire time. He wasn’t trying to help me find you for the MARC’s sake. He was doing it for his girlfriend.”
I thought about how close he’d been in contact with me, how I’d even had my own daughter around him, how he’d been let into my family’s home easily for who knows how long. I thought of him gaining the trust of Uncle Gardner, Aunt Ginevra, and of course Aunt Bedelia. And I thought of how I actually saved him from spitting out the truth in Arcadia, a liability to my own self.
It was more than irritating that the thought of Gentry betraying us actually hurt me, but I had to admit that there was something inside me whispering to never fully trust him. I wasn’t sure why that was, but now I knew.
He killed someone and pinned it on my brother, and then intended to use me to help find him so that he could kill my brother, too. The pendant at my throat burned with a heat I’d never known before, and I turned away from Tristan and Fiona-Leigh, trying to calm myself down.
In all my years, after dealing with the death of my mother, what happened with Adam and the fallout with my family, none of it made me as angry as Gentry Whitemourn did. And now, I had work to do.
34
The Plan
The Brady Manor seemed so much more cavernous when it was empty. Your voice would carry and bounce off each antique and tapestry, echoing into the halls and wide-open spaces. I could imagine how an outsider who didn’t grow up in the place like I had, would find it intimidating.
With Aunt Ginevra out helping Aunt Bee at the Apothecarium and my uncle at his office, I used the pendant to make sure their part-time staff were absent, too. I closed my eyes, signaling out all life-forms in the manor house. The only energy I felt was from the three of us standing there.
“I don’t suppose you plan on telling me just where you got that from?” Tristan asked as I absentmindedly rubbed my thumb over the smooth surface of the pendant in my hand.
I dangled it carefully out in front of my chest by its thin chain. “Does it matter? You obviously know what it is.”
“I’ve heard of it, yeah. But that doesn’t explain why you have it.”
I pulled him away from where Fiona-Leigh was testing out the old cherry wood piano. “Uncle G. He was letting me borrow it for the time being.”
Tristan raised a brow. “Really? Why?”
“Why do you think, Tris? Because he wanted me to use it to help find you, of course. He tried to hide it, but I know he’s been a wreck about the whole thing. Ginevra and Bedelia, especially.”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I’m surprised he cared that much, to be honest. I mean, Aunt Ginevra and Aunt Bee, sure. But he hasn’t been able to even look me in the eye in I don’t know how long . . .”
The room erupted in a loud, wavering note, startling both of us.
“Are you two going to keep standing there being all whispery and secretive some more, or are we going to figure out how to stop Gentry?” Fiona-Leigh said, pushing away from the piano.
It was hard not to smile at her determination, though I still wasn’t a fan of her being here with us right now. The only real reason I wanted her here is so I know she’s safe under my own eyes. The thought of some two-faced psycho like Gentry Whitemourn finding my daughter alone while we’re here made me want to stab things, so with us she stayed. But I was being smart about it—naturally I reinforced her earrings with a new protection spell thanks to the pendant.
“She’s got a point, Gwennie. What’s our game plan?” Tristan said.
I took a few steps and looked up at the portrait of the Brady Family Tree, chewing my bottom lip.
“Oh, it must be good. She always makes that face when she’s really serious about something,” Fiona-Leigh whispered to Tristan.
“Yeah? She used to walk around in circles whenever she was scheming something. It would drive my father crazy. He used to call her his ‘spinning top—always spiraling,” he whispered back.
I purposefully kept myself from walking around again like I was getting ready to, just to be spiteful. “We need to figure out if he’s got some made-up alibi first, before we do anything. I want to know what kind of lies we’re dealing with. So I’ll go to the headquarters first and see if I can find that information somewhere.”
Tristan nodded. “And then what?”
“And what am I supposed to do, by the way? You never told me. I hope you don’t think I’m just going to hole up in a room upstairs or something . . .” Fiona-Leigh added, looking at me skeptically.
I mean, that’s exactly what I was intending for her to do, but she didn’t need to know that. “You’re coming with me. As a, uh, lookout.”
Her dark blue eyes went wide. “Really? You’re not just saying that because you want me glued to your side, are you?”
I pasted the easiest smile on my face I could muster up. “Well, I mean yes, that’s part of it
. But I need someone to watch out for me in case I need to do a little deeper of an investigation. And since Tristan will be setting up the wards around here as a backup, it’ll have to be you.”
“I will?” Tristan said. “Okay then—wards it is,” he quickly added, seeing the look on my face. He pulled out his wand, holding it up.
“All right, let’s get going. The sooner we find his alibi, the better,” I said, throwing my arm around Fiona-Leigh. “And when this is all done, I’m so taking the longest nap, ever.”
Tristan followed us to the front door, already beginning to cast the first warding spell from floor to ceiling.
“Consecrate this space—from top to base,” he began muttering, the tip of his wand glowing a misty green as tendrils of the spell sprouted out.
“We’ll be back before too long,” I called to him as he slowly moved away from us, and I yanked open the door, stopping dead in my tracks.
I was face to face with Gentry.
“Oh, I wasn’t expecting to see you two here,” he said, lowering the hand he was obviously getting ready to knock with. “Your uncle wanted me to drop this off to your aunt.” He held out a small package wrapped in brown paper and tied up in twine.
“I didn’t realize you were his errand-boy now,” I said, surprising even myself with the amount of acid that hung on my words. Fiona-Leigh shoved at my back from behind and I cleared my throat. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. Uh, my aunt’s not here but I can take the package.” I held out my hand.
He looked around me to Fiona-Leigh, giving her a small smile. But the smile faltered a bit as soon as Tristan came into view, oblivious. “Wait. Tristan Brady?”
My brother froze like a sylph in wand light. “Uh . . .”
I stepped out until I was in blocking the direct path between them, trying to think on my feet as best as I could. “Yeah, crazy, right? He just showed up! All this time we’ve been spending looking for him and then he just turns up out of the blue. Believe me, I’ve already gave him a good couple of punches for the effort,” I joked, the fake chuckle dying away in my throat.