We followed the sisters into the middle house at the base of the cul-de-sac. The interior was a pastel color scheme of mint green, pink, and baby blue, and smelled like lavender furniture polish.
"I'll serve the casserole," Kitty said. "You make yourselves comfortable on the patio."
"Yes, it's a nice sunny day," Betty said. “No point in spending it indoors."
Robin and I trailed after them to the patio. Betty quickly set to work behind the bar, measuring out their cocktails with the keen eye of a professional bartender.
"Can I ask the question now?" I whispered to Robin.
He gave a firm shake of his head. "Not yet."
I couldn't figure out how he knew when was the appropriate time.
“Bring us news from the academy," Kitty said, preparing the first drink. “Is Chancellor Tilkin well?”
“Yes, very,” Robin said.
“She’s always been a favorite of ours,” Peggy said, accepting the drink from her sister. “She embodies all the best qualities of a witch.”
“And a woman,” Kitty added. She returned to work behind the bar, preparing a second cocktail.
“Is that a wishing well there?” I asked, pointing to the brick structure in the backyard.
“A well, yes,” Peggy replied, sipping her drink. “But not for wishing.”
“It’s a gateway,” Kitty said, sweeping into the room with a casserole dish, buffered by two potholders.
I blinked at the well. “To where?”
“The underworld, of course,” Kitty said. She set the casserole dish on the round garden table. “I’ll be right back with plates.”
“Which underworld?” Robin asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Whichever one you need,” Peggy replied. She laughed. “I suppose it is somewhat of a wishing well, after all.”
“Water often serves as a connection between our realm and the underworld,” Kitty said, finishing off the second Manhattan and placing it on the table. “It needn’t be a well. Lakes, rivers, wells, springs. They can all serve this purpose.”
“Our well also has healing properties,” Kitty said proudly. She set the plates on the table and began to serve out the casserole. “I’ve had to rush out there only recently after a particularly nasty burn on my hand.”
“She loves to cook, but she’s also a bit clumsy,” Peggy said.
“I am not,” Kitty said, indignant. “That oven is out to get me.”
“That’s a beautiful tree,” I said. An enormous oak tree lorded over the yard, larger than any tree I’d ever seen.
“That’s a Tree of Life,” Kitty said. “They are quite beautiful in their own way, aren’t they?”
“Another connection to the underworld,” Betty explained.
“Sometimes we need to pay a visit in a hurry,” Peggy said. “It’s handy to have our own access point.”
“Handy for you,” Kitty said, with a roll of her eyes. “We don’t all have crushes on demons.”
Peggy taunted her sister with a serving spoon. “If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times. I don’t have crushes. I’m a mature woman.”
Kitty waved her hands in the air. “Lust. Crush. It’s all the same.”
“What’s growing on the branches?” I asked. There were clusters of berries and leaves growing all over the tree.
“Mistletoe,” Peggy replied. “Should you pay a visit to the underworld, be sure to bring a sprig with you as payment for entry.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” I said, hoping that I never needed to. I took a moment to admire the casserole before diving in. “Just out of curiosity, would you have accepted pie as an offering?”
“Ooh, I love pie,” Peggy exclaimed. “I prefer a flaky crust.”
I shot Robin a triumphant look.
Betty planted herself across from Robin and me, clutching her ingredients.
“Where’s my cherry?” Peggy complained.
“Blasphemy,” Kitty said. “No garnish.”
“Not today, sister,” Betty said. “This cocktail is for official purposes.” She fixed her gaze on me. “Now, Miss Morrow. You may ask your question.”
I hesitated. My stomach was suddenly a tangle of nerves. What if I asked the wrong question and squandered the opportunity? I couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
Robin gently nudged me. “Be confident. You know what to ask.”
“Who killed Calvin Motley?” I blurted.
Betty stirred together the rye and vermouth and poured them into a four ounce glass. She added three dashes of bitters and I watched as the caramel colors swirled together. They were mesmerizing. Then she squeezed a bit of lemon peel over the cocktail and expressed the oil. She discarded the peel on the edge of her plate. Tiny droplets of oil gleamed on the surface of the liquid. An interesting alternative to reading tea leaves.
“Ready, sisters,” Betty said in an authoritative voice.
Kitty and Peggy moved to either side of her. They joined hands and stared into the whirling liquid. I stifled a gasp when three sets of eyes turned solid grey with no pupils.
“You must go to the Obscura,” they said in unison.
I noticed Robin tense at the mention of the Obscura. I waited for another moment to see if any more information was forthcoming. They released hands and Betty plucked her cocktail glass from the table and downed the drink in one smooth gulp.
“Whew, that’ll knock your cloak off,” Betty said. “Strong and boozy, just like my men.”
“What’s the Obscura?” I asked.
“It’s like a Wish Market for the exchange of goods, services, or information,” Betty said.
“What’s a Wish Market?” I asked.
Betty adjusted an earring. “In the human world, you have the black market, yes?”
I nodded. “It’s where illegal goods are sold.”
“It’s like that,” Kitty said, “except magical.”
“And a little creepy,” Peggy added.
Great.
“Depends on which section you visit,” Betty said. “But the information you seek is there.”
Kitty clapped her hands. “Goody. Now that the official business is over, we can eat. Go to town, everyone.”
My stomach rumbled in response.
“Give her extra,” Betty said, inclining her head toward me. “She needs energy to replenish what she’ll be using in the coming weeks.”
“Another premonition?” Robin queried.
Although Betty smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes. “Something like that.”
“What are we doing here?” I asked. We parked our bicycle in front of a place called Stake-n-Shake. It looked like a diner where waiters on roller-skates delivered trays to the patrons in their cars, except we only had a bicycle.
My jaw dropped when I saw a muscular waiter serving a tray of food to the neighboring car. He had the body of a man, and the head of a bull.
“Is he…?” I trailed off.
“Minotaur,” Robin finished, unimpressed.
Our waiter skated over to the bicycle and offered us two menus. “Can I get you started with a still or sparkling bottle of blood?” she asked.
“Neither,” Robin replied. “We’re not vampires, but we’re looking for one who frequents this place.”
The minotaur seemed to understand. “Inside. Take the staircase at the back.”
“Thank you,” Robin replied.
I followed him inside the restaurant. “What are we doing here?” I asked in a hushed tone. The prefect couldn’t possibly intend to eat here. The whole menu was geared toward vampires. I didn’t want to end up as fast food.
"I know a guy,” Robin said.
"You know a guy?" I echoed. "Why do I find that hard to believe? No offense, Boy Wonder, but you don't seem like the kind of guy who knows a guy."
Robin stopped and looked at me. "He knows the Obscura well and he owes me a favor. I helped him get access to materials he needed from the library."
I suppress
ed a smile. “That I can believe. Who is he?"
"A former warden," he replied. "A vampire called Gray."
"I didn't realize vampires could be wardens," I said. "I thought all of the agents were magic users."
“Agents come in all varieties. Gray graduated top of his class from the Sentinel."
"What's the Sentinel?"
Robin looked at me askance. "I keep forgetting your familiarity with the paranormal world is so limited. The Sentinel is the vampire-only feeder school to the AMF. He trained there, just as his father did before him. And his grandfather before that. It’s a very old and prestigious institution."
I frowned. "His dad and his granddad? He's a vampire. How does that work?"
“Ah, I can see you have the human world knowledge of vampires," he said. "In our world, vampires can be either made or born. We have strict rules governing turning now, though. They can't run around willy-nilly turning humans."
“Well, that's good. I object to people running around willy-nilly on principle.”
"Gray is from a very old and ancient line of vampires called the Mappleworths. His full name is Graydon Alastair Mappleworth III.”
"Only the third?" I quipped. "That doesn't sound too old to me."
"When you think about in terms of the lives of vampires, it is very old, indeed."
"So, how old is this guy?" I pictured someone like Craig Tipperary, only older and uglier.
"I'm not sure exactly," Robin said. "He’s still quite young by vampire standards. His father is still alive. His grandfather died under strange circumstances."
"If he’s such a decorated warden, why are we looking for him in the basement of a diner?” I asked.
"That's a story for another day," Robin said. We descended the staircase at the back of the restaurant and were met by a tall woman with her hair wrapped in individual colorful scarves. Her stony expression warned me not to mess with her.
"What's the password?" she asked.
Robin broke out in a nervous sweat. "I'm not certain about the password. I'm looking for Mr. Mappleworth. I understand he's here."
The woman folded her arms, and I heard the distinctive sound of snakes hissing. It seemed to emanate from beneath the scarves.
"I need a password, or you need to leave,” the woman said. “I suggest you don't make me say it again."
My pulse quickened. This woman meant business. She would have put any New York City bouncer to shame.
Robin held up a finger, trying to drum up a password, I assumed.
"How did you even know to come here?" I asked.
"He told me this is where I could find him if I ever needed him to repay the favor," he said. His voice had a slight whine to it, and I began to feel a little sorry for him. Blackmail aside, Robin really had gone out on a limb for me.
I moved to stand in front of him. "Listen, my friend is trying to help me dodge a murder rap and there’s a vampire in there who can help,” I said.
The woman took the measure of me. “You’re dodging a murder rap? Why do I find that hard to believe?”
“I saw the crime scene,” Robin interjected, and whistled. “Terrible. They found her on top of the body, covered in blood. She doesn’t remember a thing.”
I shook my head. “Not a thing.”
The woman gave a tiny smile and stepped aside. “You said the password, sweet boy.”
He smacked his forehead. “It was blood, wasn’t it?”
I pushed him forward before the bouncer could change her mind. The room was dark and smoky. There were several round tables, each one with a different card game. In the middle of the room stood a rectangular table. I wasn't familiar with the game, but it looked like a cross between roulette and craps.
"There he is," Robin said, elbowing me. I followed his gaze to the head of the rectangular table, where a blond man with a deep tan was in the process of winning a pile of money.
I swiveled my head toward Robin. "Which one?"
"The one collecting the money."
"That can't be him," I said. "He has the deepest tan I've ever seen on a blonde." No vampire in the world could have a tan like that, could he?
Robin chuckled. "You have a lot to learn, don’t you?" He jostled me forward. "Come on. Let's strike now, while he's in a good mood from winning."
Graydon Alastair Mappleworth III was nothing like Craig Tipperary. In fact, he was one of the hottest guys I'd ever seen in my life. He oozed sex appeal, and I couldn't decide whether it was the bad boy leather jacket he sported or the sinewy muscle underneath. His cheekbones alone appeared to have been sculpted by the gods.
"Gray, good to see you, buddy," Robin said with forced enthusiasm. I cringed. I may have been new to the paranormal world, but Robin was the one clearly out of his depth.
Gray stared at Robin for a brief moment, clearly trying to place him. “I’d recognize that bow tie anywhere.” He snapped his fingers. "Library guy."
“Prefect Robin Chambers,” he said.
"Yes, that's right." He peered over Robin’s shoulder. "How did you get in here? This area is restricted."
Robin inclined his head toward me. “It was a team effort.”
I gave him a small wave. "Bryn Morrow."
He gave me a cursory glance before shifting his attention back to Robin. "This isn't a safe place for you or your friend, library guy. We should probably talk upstairs."
"I would appreciate that, except the restaurant is so loud," Robin said. "I don't think I'd be able to carry on a conversation."
Gray gave him a look that suggested disbelief. Robin really was one sentence short of yelling at kids to get off his lawn.
"I know another place where we can talk," he said. "Follow me, and stay close. Ignore any succubi that throw themselves in front of you." He looked at me. "Don't think they won't try for you, too. Their appetite knows no gender."
I gulped.
Gray threaded his way through the gamblers. His long strides made it difficult for us to keep up. He exited through a different door than the one we came in. It led to a spiral metal staircase. We climbed up what seemed like multiple flights until we reached the top. Gray opened the door to a small room with a futon on the floor and a small round table beside it. There appeared to be a closet door, but I had no idea what was behind it.
"Is there a light switch somewhere?" Robin asked, fumbling along the wall.
"No light," Gray said. "My night vision is as good as my day vision."
"This is your room?" I blurted. For a vampire with a fancy name, he sure liked living rough.
"It's where I stay when I'm in town," he said. He turned to Robin. "You said you had a problem with sound. You didn't say you had a problem with sight."
"No, no, of course not," Robin said. I promptly heard him trip over a floorboard. "We can manage here."
"Good, because this is what I'm offering you," Gray replied gruffly. “Now, what do you need?"
"Information," I said. "We went to see an oracle, and they said the answer we seek can be found at the Obscura. Boy Wonder…I mean, Robin says that you can help us."
Gray leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Man, those biceps were impressive even before he accentuated them.
“Sure, that's easy," Gray said. “We’ll go together.”
Robin strangled a cry. "We can't possibly go to the Obscura."
Gray shrugged. "Fine, you stay behind. Easier with only two of us, anyway."
My eyes popped. "I have to go, too?"
Gray looked me up and down. “I take it you’re the one in need.”
“I’m not sure that I can sanction…” Robin began.
Gray fixed him with a hard stare. “Are you asking for my help or not?”
“Yes, of course.” Robin cleared his throat. “It’s just that Miss Morrow is a new student, and I’m not comfortable placing her in a dangerous situation. Perhaps I should go instead.”
“Are you suggesting I can’t protect your friend?” Gray’s fangs drop
ped down, and I nearly jumped at the sight.
“No, not at all.” Robin appeared caught between a rock and a pointy place. “I came to you because you’re the best choice for the Obscura.”
“No one better,” Gray agreed.
Robin glanced at me with concern. “I want Miss Morrow to feel safe at all times.”
“That’s impossible,” Gray replied shortly. “No one can ever feel safe at all times. That isn’t the world we live in.”
No, and it hadn’t been the one I lived in, either. I sort of liked Gray, despite my completely rational fear of him.
“I’ll go,” I blurted.
“You will?” Both men replied at the same time.
“I need to go to the Obscura and get whatever information the oracle said is there,” I said. “Gray knows the ins and outs of the market. It’ll be fine.”
“If I recall correctly, the academy encourages independence,” Gray said. “Miss Morrow wants a real world experience to complement her studies, and I can provide that.”
“What Miss Morrow wants is to prove that she’s innocent of theft and murder,” Robin reminded him. “The rest of it is secondary.”
“Theft and murder?” Gray’s gaze settled on me and I shivered involuntarily. “Is that right?”
“No, it’s all wrong,” I said. “That’s why I need to clear my name.”
Gray nodded, understanding. “Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up in front of the library.”
My mind immediately conjured up images of Fred and George. “How about the gateway instead?”
“Gateway will do fine,” Gray said. “Don’t wear your cloak or anything that signifies the academy. If you want information, we need to do this my way, or not at all.”
“Within reason,” Robin said.
Gray’s jaw clenched. “I believe I said my way, or not at all.”
My gaze darted to Robin. “The oracle said to go, right?” I tried to keep my voice calm, so as not to worry the uptight prefect.
Robin bit his lip. “They’re never wrong.”
Gray glanced from Robin to me. “How about it then, Morrow? You still game?”
I inhaled deeply. “I am.”
Chapter Nine
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Mia asked, as I slipped out of my cloak and hung it on a hanger in the closet. I had ten minutes before I had to meet Gray for our trip to the Obscura.
Spellbinding Starters Page 8