I blink, unsure if I’m hallucinating or actually hearing her words correctly. Then I glance at Javy to see how he’s taking being dumped.
He doesn’t look bothered at all and just says, “If that’s how you feel, I respect your decision.”
“Goddamn, you make it hard to say no when you’re this cool about it.” Catalina bites her nails. “That is some hot-ass shit, my friend. But alas, I must resist.”
“It’s okay.” He smiles at her. “Friends.”
“Nice.” She skips into the guest room and fist bumps him. “All right, I gotta go to work. Catch y’all later.”
Then she bounds away, leaving us alone.
I turn to Javy and say, “So you really never hit that?”
He shrugs and says, “Guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
“I’m going to check on Emmy,” I say.
“What’s the plan there?” he asks as I head for the door.
“Get some help with my troll problem, for one,” I say. “And after that, we’ll just play it by ear.”
Thirty-Seven
Two days later
Popular opinion is a fickle beast. One day you have psycho warlocks coming to kill you, the next your office phone is blowing up with endless requests to interview the investigator who tracked down Emmy Davis.
Emmy’s reintroduction into society proves to be a media sensation that, while not on par with the Great Reveal, still rates as one hell of an event. Her and I make a deal: I won’t tell everyone about Project Ghost and her bargain with the devil. Planning your own disappearance for personal gain is generally frowned upon, even if you ultimately did end up getting kidnapped.
In return, she puts out multiple posts and statements telling the world that her “father’s”—really Marius’s—video about me was an attempt to smear my character after I refused to go along with his plan to sell the Wolfhearts false information regarding their daughter’s murder.
After the Wolfhearts confirmed this twist on the truth as the real deal, the incessant demands for my head finally stopped.
Coupled with a tell-all interview where Emmy went into further detail regarding how Hex mishandled her money, it’s all been enough to turn me from money-grubbing opportunist asshole to sympathetic additional victim of his Machiavellian scheme.
The cherry on all this was her tearful explanation that he committed suicide because of the mounting shame over his debts, as well as pending criminal charges. With a quick “cremation” and no funeral, no one seems interested in asking too many follow-up questions about Hex Davis.
Oh, and Emmy praising me as the hero who saved her from certain doom was a nice touch, too.
As for where Emmy has been all this time, it turned out Marius simply held her for two years—in various locations around Ragnarok. There was no specific plan for her, other than to have a rainy day, instant chaos card that he could whip out at any time.
Given that Marius is a body-possessing creature, though, explaining who took her demanded a little thought. The world might know of the supernatural, but still has zero notion of Immortals and Shades. But a certain hitman who tried to kill me out at the town’s limits winds up being the perfect patsy for the crime.
Mere hours after the interview aired yesterday, Carrie Zane announced that she was recusing herself from Stacey Knight’s civil lawsuit “in light of new and alarming details concerning Hex Davis using the legal system for his own personal vendettas.” The lawsuit itself was withdrawn earlier today. Not surprisingly, the past couple days have been a PR bloodbath for Carrie’s firm.
Emmy even told me what was inside Delia’s buried box. It was simply a time capsule, where one buries important objects to unearth five or ten years in the future. The Great Reveal message was in reference to an event they had planned at some point, where they would record a video reacting to their pre-fame mementos. The cloak and dagger part with the secret stickers and shard scroll was a planned scavenger hunt for fans that never came to fruition. A solid enough script for generating views, I guess.
So Emmy has her life back. I’m not sure it’s what she really wants.
But even a sliver of freedom has to be better than having none at all.
I did have one condition amidst all this, though: that two people learn the actual truth regarding the deal that Emmy, Delia, and Stacey made.
The Wolfhearts.
It was a tearful reunion filled with many quivery-lipped regrets, but ultimately, the Wolfhearts forgave her—thanked her, even, for telling them of how their daughter sacrificed herself to save Emmy’s life. And they gave me a bonus when I assured them that Marius would vanish from the face of the earth.
True to that promise, Javy and Rayna took care of him an hour ago out in the woods behind his house. I witnessed the deed personally—like watching a spirit dissolve into acid. The magic was way above my paygrade, but suffice to say it involved a significant donation of Rayna’s blood to fuel the destructive spellcasting.
Afterward, there was nothing left of him—just something less than emptiness. I could feel it in the summer air. In a universe where matter can be neither created nor destroyed, witnessing the latter unequivocally occur was a bizarre sensation.
They also got rid of the warlock and the associated evidence. He’ll never be found.
Rayna even let me know what her rusty old crow key opens. It’s a cache. Of weapons, goods, potions…all the possessions one might gather over the course of an eternal lifetime. Incredibly valuable. That should prove useful in the future.
If she’s a willing long-term ally. The jury’s still out on that. After all, she had teamed up with Marius, if only for a few days. She claims it’s because she wanted to get back at Javy for leaving her. That she was still hurt, even though it happened years ago. It’s a plausible explanation, I suppose, but not necessarily a comforting one. Makes her something of an emotional loose cannon if a break-up can flip her loyalties at any moment. Helping us rid the world of Marius buys her some temporary good-will, though.
Ultimately, we all make our own choices.
Who to trust.
Who to help.
Who to save.
Right now, Javy and I are choosing to trust Rayna.
And whatever happens next, good or bad, we’ll just have to live with it.
Epilogue
“You look deep in thought over there,” Javy says as he pops the cap off a beer and walks into the living room. Much-needed rain pelts the windows, the lengthy dry spell finally coming to a merciful end.
I prop my bare feet up on my new plastic coffee table. I’ve tried wood and glass, so why not? The new couch is black leather, representing a massive upgrade over its faded predecessor.
Even the front door has been replaced.
“Just thinking about what comes next,” I say.
“Take a moment and breathe.” Javy sits down next to me and sips his beer. “Everything looks pretty good right now.”
“Damn straight,” I reply. “But we’re just getting started.”
His expression darkens. “New case?”
“Worse.” I nod over at Ella, who’s lounging in the corner, blissfully unaware of what I’ve been planning. Then I lower my voice and whisper, “Bath time.”
Toby is returning from the hospital today—having aged about ten years from the curse, but otherwise in good health—which means I’m finally giving Ella a well-earned bath. In the whirlwind of media activity over the past couple days, she’s escaped thus far, and still smells like an ashtray. And stale coffee. It seems like a lifetime ago when Marius first came by with the invitation to the Red Whale and I accidentally kicked over the cold mug upon hearing his knock.
“Oh, that’s all you,” he says and shakes his head.
“Some partner you are.” I pull his beer from his hand and put it on my side of the table.
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“You can’t drink my beer if you’re not helping.” Then I get up fro
m the couch and whistle at Ella. “Come on girl.”
She dutifully follows me into the bedroom. Then her tail goes down as I walk toward the bathroom and she realizes what’s about to go down.
She turns to flee, but I snag her by the collar and tug her gently onto the tile floor.
I close the door.
She looks betrayed.
“Get in the tub.”
Ella doesn’t move. So I do the only thing I can.
The husky wriggles and barks as I lift her off the tile and into the tub.
As soon as her paws touch the acrylic surface, she attempts an immediate escape over the side. I block her exit with my hip and then turn the water on, pressing one hand firmly on her back to keep her in place as I reach up to adjust the shower head.
Giving this dog a bath might prove more precarious than almost being murdered by a deranged warlock.
“Hold still.” Sooty water streams off her fur as the lukewarm water hits her back.
The water’s too cold, Tessie.
I turn the faucet a little and start kneading her thick coat with my fingers.
Ow, ow, it’s too hot.
“You just said it was too cold.”
It was. She wriggles free of my grasp, leaps out of the tub, and tries to worm her way behind the toilet.
I wrestle with the hundred-pound dog and manage to hoist her back into the tub, much to the delight of my cracking back.
I scrub her ears and she bobs and weaves like a boxer, trying to avoid my hands. “Come on, El.”
I’m clean already!
I point at the dirty water pooling down at her paws. “Opinions differ there.”
She growls and shows her teeth, insulted.
I throw up my hands in exasperation. “Then you can be a dirty dog forever.”
Admitting temporary defeat, I shut the water off, close the bathroom door, and head into the living room to regroup. My feet leave watery footprints on the floor.
Javy takes a swig of his beer and says with an amused look, “You’re rather wet.”
“Thought I made it clear that beers were for helpful people only.”
“Very well.” He drains the rest of his beer and rises off the couch. “Fortunately for you, I was once known as the Lion Tamer of Damascus.”
“That wouldn’t be one of the lions that ate your face off, would it?”
“No.” He smiles. “By that point I’d learned from prior experience and used it to my advantage.”
“Then have at it.” I gesture toward the trail of water leading into the bedroom. “But I don’t think previous experience will prepare you for this one.”
“First, supplies.” Javy sets the empty bottle down and heads to the kitchen.
“What are you looking for?”
“Just some paper towels.”
“Paper towels? The hell you need those for?”
“Trade secrets, sorry.” He emerges with the roll clutched tightly to his chest and trots into the bedroom. I try to follow him, but he shakes his head. “Just wait in the living room. I’ll talk to her alone.”
“You don’t need me to translate?”
“I can hear what her heart is saying.”
“Oh yeah, sure.” But I wait. As I stand with my back pressed up against the wall next to my bedroom doorway, I hear Javy knock on the bathroom door and whisper.
After a moment, the door creaks open. I don’t hear it shut, however.
Much to my surprise, a soggy gray and jet-black bundle of fur doesn’t immediately zoom out. There are whiskey-voiced murmurs, followed by splashes.
I rest my head against the wall and just listen.
“That’s a good girl,” I hear Javy say. “Yep, you’re doing great.”
Then, over the running water, I hear a distinct crunching.
“Wait a second.” I charge into the bathroom to find him pouring water on the husky’s back. Her gray snout is coated in cracker crumbs. “Cheater.”
Ella stops chewing and Javy looks up at me with mock offense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Here I thought you had the magic touch. You’re just bribing her.”
Javy glances at her snout and quickly rubs the offending bits away. “Your case is circumstantial at best.”
“Then what are these?” I march across the tile and yank a half-empty roll of crackers out from the paper towel tube. “Lion Tamer of Damascus, my ass.”
“Guilty as charged.” Javy raises his arms in surrender and laughs. “But you gotta admit one thing.”
“What’s that?” I say with irritation.
“She is clean.”
Ella barks twice and wags her tail happily, spraying us both with water.
I can’t help but laugh, too. Then my phone rings, and I duck out of the bathroom, wiping droplets from my forehead. “Hello—Tess Skye Investigations.”
“Tess?” a woman’s hopeful voice asks over a crackly line.
“Yes, speaking.”
“I know it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you.”
“Awhile? Who is this?” I check the caller ID, but it’s a number I don’t recognize.
There’s no answer through the buzzing static.
Finally, I say, “Are you there? Hello?”
And then the voice replies in barely a whisper, “It’s Mom. And I need your help.”
THE END
Tess Skye returns to investigate a self-help guru’s cult in Bomb Shell (Book 3). Now available on Amazon at dnerikson.com/shell.
Join D.N. Erikson’s FREE author newsletter to receive exclusive updates and news on future titles, including upcoming Tess Skye novels at dnerikson.com/tess-news.
Smoke Show (Tess Skye Book 2) Page 17