“She’s going to need as much advice as she can get, and I can’t very well boss her around if she doesn’t understand me. I’ll stay, thanks.” Sir Kipling’s yellow eyes looked into hers as he spoke, and she could have sworn he smiled, though of course that was silly. Cats don’t smile.
And just like that, the presence was gone, whatever it had been. No more bells, no more glow. She glanced down at her ward bracelet and thought she could still discern tiny threads of light, undulating under the surface of each hemp cord. She smiled. Maybe not completely gone.
A sound behind her brought her back to reality. Turning, she saw people streaming into the room. EMTs were already tending to Tina, who had regained consciousness. Sebastian, instead of returning to Lily and his aunt, was holding Tina’s hand in a very familiar fashion. Lily felt a stab of annoyance. Maybe he wasn’t a thief, but he was getting awfully cozy with someone who had confessed to that profession. She told herself the fact that Tina was a very attractive girl had nothing to do with her annoyance.
Medical personnel now approached her, and she retreated, giving them room to see to Madam Barrington as others went to retrieve the unconscious but miraculously unhurt guard. One of the EMTs, noticing her weary stumble, helped her sit and wrapped her in a blanket after ensuring she wasn’t hurt. When she looked around again, Sir Kipling had vanished. She wasn’t worried. He’d either show up in the back of Sebastian’s car or find his way home. Lily didn’t doubt him anymore, as he could obviously take care of himself. He was still a cat, yes, but a very special cat.
Hot on the EMT’s heels were the authorities: police, crime scene techs, the whole nine yards. Several started roping off areas and bagging evidence, another got her statement while a third spoke to Sebastian, who was watching the EMCs wrap up Tina’s torn side. After Lily gave her statement, the police drifted away to consult with their colleagues, scratching their head over the carnage and intricate symbols painted on the floor in goat’s blood.
Lily happened to glance toward the door and what she saw filled her stomach with butterflies. It was the same two FBI agents who had interviewed her after Pitts. The woman, Agent Meyer, was as stern-looking as ever. But Agent Grant looked positively concerned as he spotted her and hurried over, eyes taking in the destruction. Lily couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his suit. She hoped it didn’t show on her face.
“Miss Singer, are you alright? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, thank you, Agent Grant,” she said, glowing a bit at his sincere concern. “Just worn out from all the commotion. Fancy seeing you here.” She attempted a casual chuckle, but it came out a nervous squeak.
“I was about to say the same to you. You do seem to show up wherever anything, um, interesting is happening,” he opined, looking pointedly at the crushed pedestal and crimson floor.
“Oh, I had nothing to do with any of that,” she rushed to assure him.
“I…see. Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.
“Well, I—I already gave my statement to the police, and I—I just don’t know if I can relive the whole thing over again. It was all so shocking,” she hedged, trying to look distressed and fragile. It wasn’t hard.
“Alright,” he said slowly, eyeing her. “Would you feel more at ease if we chatted about it over coffee in a few days, once you’ve had time to recover?”
Lily was taken aback at the request but supposed he was attempting to get more information by putting her in a relaxed situation. Little did he know how much she hated coffee. She was about to decline when she spotted Sebastian sitting on the edge of Tina’s cot where she lay, wrapped in bandages and being prepped for hospital transport. Lily’s eyes narrowed as she saw he was holding the other witch’s hand again. He bent closer to hear something she was saying, then laughed.
Lily pursed her lips and turned back to the FBI agent. “Yes, I would be delighted.”
Epilogue
In the end, since they all stuck to the same story, there wasn’t much for the police to do. Both the demon and Veronica inside the demon had disappeared without a trace, so no body, no foul. As the sole witnesses to the crime, they all claimed they’d simply heard a racket and had come to discover a group of teenagers vandalizing the museum. They’d tried to stop them, of course, thus their various injuries. As the tablet was recovered unharmed and nothing else was stolen, the only crime committed was damage of museum property. With Mr. Baker running interference and a sizable, anonymous donation made at the end of the fundraiser that covered damages, the museum filed no charges and the matter was dropped.
No one seemed to notice that the tablet had an extra bit on it. Madam Barrington assured her the tablet’s curators would take care of separating the fragment from the whole and hiding it again; it was too dangerous to leave the pieces together. At the hospital where they took Madam Barrington, Lily finally explained everything that had happened with the fragment. Though not pleased, her mentor admitted the fragment had certainly fulfilled its purpose. She still refused to say who’d given it to her, and was just as confused as Lily at the miraculous powers it had granted Sir Kipling and, by proxy, Lily. She’d never heard of anything of the sort before but was eager to meet the “new” Sir Kipling over tea sometime.
Madam Barrington was released from the hospital that same night with no injuries beyond a minor concussion and the scratch on her temple. Sebastian had stayed to keep Tina company, so Lily saw her mentor home, holding back the burning questions she had for her friend. There was the matter of him taking up the company of a known thief, as well as his mysterious, glowing staff. Lily was dying to know who Thiriel was. The more she got to know Sebastian, the more women seemed to show up in his life. He obviously had more than his fair share of secrets, and his reluctance to share any of them put her on edge.
Sir Kipling was, indeed, waiting for her at home, but they didn’t discuss the evening’s events. There didn’t seem to be a reason to. Following her cat’s example, Lily had decided to accept things for the way they were. She would keep searching, however. The strange presence in her mind had said, “if you seek, you will find,” and she was determined to find the truth about her past. Maybe it would lead her to better understand her future.
Knowing well the importance of record-keeping, she spent a significant amount of time Sunday afternoon carefully recording events in her eduba, from the tablet fragment, to Sir Kipling’s startling abilities, to the strange magic manifesting in her ward bracelet, and the being who spoke to her. She just wished it had given her answers instead of more questions.
But answers came sooner than she expected. Monday morning as she headed out the door for work, her forehead bumped into something. Looking up, she saw an envelope hovering overhead. She quickly snatched it out of the air and looked around nervously, but no one was about. Going back inside, she examined it. The envelope was a heavy, yellow parchment, its flap sealed with red wax and stamped with an elaborate symbol of a tower combined with a crescent moon and star. She wondered what careless wizard had sent her a letter by magic. It was simply irresponsible, as any mundane could have seen it and investigated. Email, phone, and snail mail worked perfectly fine.
Breaking the seal, she opened the letter. It was written in silver ink, and as she unfolded it fully the letter started reading itself to her, almost like a voicemail. The voice was deep, smooth, and uncomfortably familiar.
Dear Miss Singer,
* * *
I apologize for my delay in sending you this letter. It took me some time to find you. I also wanted to beg your forgiveness for the nature of our first meeting in Pitts. I truly meant to harm no one, only to retrieve the artifact that was rightly mine and had been stolen from my family long ago. Being in the time loop had put my nerves on edge and I was, perhaps, more harsh than I meant to be. I hope Mr. Blackwell has fully recovered.
* * *
In a gesture of goodwill, I would like to extend an invitation to visit my family’s estate in one week’s
time. I believe we have much in common and there are many questions you would ask that I have answers to. There are also several people I would like you to meet who have been waiting a very long time to see you again. Simply write your reply at the bottom of the letter and it will find its way back to me. I hope to have the pleasure of your company soon.
* * *
Sincerely,
John Faust LeFay
Lily’s blood ran hot, then cold, and her heart raced in both excitement and dread. This was it. These were the answers she’d been looking for. The truth. She remembered the last thing the fragment of Annabelle’s soul had said to her: “ask the fae.” But what if she’d really said: “ask LeFay”? Who was this man and why did he want to talk to her, much less answer her questions? He sounded sincere in the letter, but she couldn’t forget the disdain he’d shown or the hungry curiosity in his eyes when she’d seen him last in the time loop. And who were these people who wanted to meet her…again? Why did this man seem so familiar? Whoever he was, he was the first person who had ever shown any interest in revealing, rather than concealing, information.
Without giving herself a chance to think, lest she chicken out, she grabbed a nearby pen and scribbled, “Yes, please,” in the blank space at the bottom of the letter. Immediately, the letter levitated, neatly folding itself back up, though the seal remained broken. Then it vanished.
Lily wondered what she’d gotten herself into. The truth might make her free, but at what cost? There was only one way to find out.
Ask John Faust LeFay.
Interlude
Witchy Times
The elevator dinged as it passed each floor, moving so slowly Sebastian had time to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet three times in between floors. Hospitals made him nervous. They were where you went when things weren’t right, when people got hurt. Or were dying. He usually avoided them like the plague. Even driving past one brought back memories of the night his parents died.
But that had been a long time ago, and today he was going to see someone very pretty and not at all dead. Even more exciting, she was a witch—the first one he’d met who wasn’t trying to kill him, curse him, steal his clients, or turn him into a small, furry animal. Well, there had been that poltergeist she’d sicked on him, but that had been a misunderstanding.
Having finally reached the fourth floor, the elevator emitted one last ding and slowly opened its doors. Sebastian held back, letting the Sunday afternoon press of visitors exit first to ensure he wouldn’t be jostled, thus endangering the vase of flowers he carried. He had no idea if Tina was a flowers kind of girl, but it seemed a safer bet than a stuffed bear or chocolate. To throw in his own flair, he’d put a bit of fae glamour on them so they would slowly change color, like one of those fancy lava lamps.
Exiting the elevator and seeking out her room, he reflected on how much Tina reminded him of himself. Last night when he’d accompanied her to the hospital, he’d overheard one of the nurses asking for an emergency contact. Tina had just shaken her head. She was probably very independent and would be reluctant to accept help. But he had to try. Finding the correct room, he took a deep breath and knocked on the open door. “Flower delivery service. Anyone home?” He poked his head in, giving a grin and a wave to the petite girl sitting upright in the room’s hospital bed.
Tina gave him a disapproving scowl that did nothing to hide the twinkle in her eye. “Seriously? Flowers? You totally should have brought me a burger. This hospital food is complete crap.”
“Well, I didn’t just bring flowers. I also picked up some old clothes that should fit, since they threw away your other ones. I mean, hey, you look great in a hospital gown, but I doubt you want to wear it home.” He winked, stepping into the room and positioning the flowers carefully on a bedside table where their vibrant, changing colors couldn’t be missed. “I also might be persuaded to smuggle in real food. For a price, of course.”
Tina crossed her arms. “A price, huh?”
“Yup. A date. Once you’re better, of course,” he added hastily. Though his smile was confident, he had to resist the urge to wipe his sweating hands on a pants leg.
“Mm-hmm,” Tina responded, mouth pursed and eyebrow raised as she considered his demands. “Well, you didn’t rat me out to the police, and you did save me from a demon—” she paused, brow furrowing as she stared at the blue flowers. “Weren’t those yellow when you brought them in?”
Sebastian grinned like a Cheshire cat.
“How did you do that?” Tina asked.
“I’m a witch,” he said airily. “Mystery is sexy, so excuse me if I decline to explain.”
Tina laughed. “You wish. And yes, we can hang out as soon as I escape this hellhole.”
“Hey,” Sebastian said, expression growing concerned, “don’t go running off before they discharge you. You’ve got to give yourself a chance to heal. If I recall correctly, you bruised three ribs, had a minor concussion, and got stitches. If I catch you sneaking out I will turn you in with a completely clear conscience.”
Though she looked disgruntled, Tina waved a hand in dismissal. “Chill. I won’t. The nurse said they’d be discharging me today anyway. It sounds all scary, but I’m fine, really. I only needed a few stitches, and I think they threw in the concussion stuff to make me stay overnight.”
“Still, you’ll need to take it easy for a while. You need a ride home later?”
Tina avoided his gaze, fiddling with the sheet in her lap. “I can get a cab or something.”
“Hey, come on. If you don’t want me to know where your house is, that’s cool. I can just drop you off at your car. How’s that?” he asked, catching her eye and giving her a knowing look.
Tina regarded him for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I just hope they haven’t towed it yet. You know how rabid campus police can be.”
Sebastian nodded. He remembered one time, while visiting Lily at her office in McCain Library, an Agnes Scott security guard had tried to give him a parking ticket. She’d been pretty, and he’d enjoyed talking his way out of it. A smile threatened to touch his lips as he recalled his boast to Lily that he’d used witchcraft to evade campus security. Lily had given him a withering look and gone on about how one should use magic only for good. He pointed out that his visits were good for her. She’d threatened to throw a book at him.
Dragging his thoughts back to the present, Sebastian made sure Tina was settled, then set off in search of a nurse to discover when Tina would be discharged. With a bit of haggling and a few hours wait, she was finally declared fit enough to return home. Sebastian helped her to his car and they headed to the Emory University campus. To his surprise, she was completely unfazed by the state of his car. It became clear why when they finally arrived and he saw that her car was just as dented and cluttered as his. And, sure enough, a parking ticket was tucked under the windshield wiper. He suppressed a smile as Tina pulled it out and tossed it on the ground.
As she maneuvered her bruised body into the driver’s seat, he transferred the flowers he’d given her to the passenger side, then bent down to look her in the eye. “Are you going be okay driving by yourself? How do your ribs feel?”
“I’m fine.” She waved him off, grimacing at the movement.
He frowned but knew she wouldn’t accept any more help. “Mind if I get your number? So I can take you up on that date sometime.” He winked.
Mouth curving into a mischievous smile, she cocked her head. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt, lover boy,” she said, scribbling some numbers on a scrap of paper and handing it to him. “Here ya go.”
“Thanks, chica.” He started to stand up, then bent down again. “One more thing. You don’t have any idea who put out that job on the tablet, do you?”
Tina stared at him, expression unreadable. Finally, she sighed. “Well, since I’ve got about a snowflake in hell’s chance of getting that job after yesterday’s fiasco, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore if you try to steal the job.”
Sebastian laughed. “It’s not like that at all. I already told you, heists aren’t my thing. Whoever this guy is, he sent someone to steal my friend’s tablet and almost got us killed in the process. He and I have some unfinished business.”
“Hmm, I see your point. I wouldn’t mind getting a few punches in myself. But I can’t help.” She shrugged apologetically. “Sorry. I got no idea who he is. The middleman, Anton, he runs a tight operation. I couldn’t get a word out of him, and I’m a lot prettier than you are,” she added with a grin.
“Only according to straight guys,” he countered, matching her smile. “Anyway, Anton and I have some history. I might be able to get something out of him.”
“Good luck with that,” she said, and started the car.
Sebastian stood up. “I’ll figure it out. Drive safe and heal fast.” He shut the door and stood back, watching as she drove away.
* * *
As far as the public was concerned, Anton Silvester was an art dealer with a prestigious gallery in downtown Atlanta. But while his gallery walls were filled with expensive canvases, some visitors weren’t there for the art. It was commonly known in certain, closed circles that if one needed anything involving magic, Anton would see it done. He was a middleman, sub-contracting out jobs to appropriate players in the magic world, both witch and wizard. He knew more about magic than any mundane Sebastian had ever met, including himself. Though efforts to delve into his associate’s past had proven fruitless, Sebastian assumed he came from a wizard family and acquired his knowledge through proximity and self-study, much like Sebastian himself.
Unlike Sebastian, however, Anton was in his fifties, rail thin, and sported a rakish goatee and mustache that matched the black of his curly hair. Those who saw his gaunt build and assumed him weak were in for a rude surprise. His exceptional intellect, extensive knowledge base, and ruthless devotion to business made him a player to be reckoned with. Sebastian liked the man and thought Anton liked him, too, since the art dealer openly insulted him. People he didn’t like got the veiled insinuation of idiocy treatment, unless they were paying clients, of course. Clients were treated with impeccable courtesy.
Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Revelations Page 9