Spirelli Paranormal Investigations Box Set 2

by Kate Baray

  “Just as dragon magic works differently from human magic, so does the magic of a creature like an Arkan Sonney. He may have a different and useful perspective. And I hear he’s quite fond of you, Jack.”

  Ewan seemed surprised. Hardly a compliment. Not that Jack would have commented, but Ewan had already hung up.

  “Bob—that’s weird, right? Can I ask him to check out the house?”

  Marin tucked her cell in her pocket and pulled out her keys. “I know his kind are shy, and they don’t like to be acknowledged—but that ship has long sailed. You guys hang out in your office like antisocial teenagers, bonding over… What exactly do you do in there?”

  “We don’t do anything. He hangs out; I hang out. We just kinda hang out in the same room.”

  “Right. What was I thinking that you might actually be doing something?” Marin started the car. “Either way, Dad’s right: you guys are tight. And don’t forget, you helped out his buddy Nelson.”

  “That’s ballsy.” Jack fastened his seatbelt. “Fixing your screw-up hardly qualifies as helping Nelson. You’re the one who accidentally left the inter-dimensional door open too long and—”

  “Too wide.” Marin backed out of the drive and onto the highway feeder with a careless abandon that made Jack cringe.

  “What?” He discreetly pried his fingers away from the oh-shit handle.

  “The inter-dimensional door was too big; it wasn’t open too long. Big difference. I was ignorant, not careless.”

  He’d swear her nose twitched when she said “ignorant.”

  “Whatever makes you sleep better at night,” Jack said. “Either way, the big, bad, creepy dragon got stuck in Nelson’s attic, and that was all you.”

  Marin snorted. She flicked the radio on, then thought again and lowered the volume. “Talk to him. Ask him for his help.”

  Jack tensed as Marin floored it onto the access ramp with only one hand on the steering wheel. “How do I do that? I’m not telepathic. He only communicates with other little Arkan Sonney—and dragons.”

  “You haven’t figured out how to talk to each other? How long have you…” She laughed. “Never mind. I’ll translate.”

  Jack didn’t see what the big deal was. They hung out. They shared space. Two dudes in one room did not a conversation make—especially if one was the size of an overgrown hedgehog and had no vocal cords.

  There was that one time, no, two times? He’d heard a tiny whisper in the back of his brain…but that could just as easily have been his overactive imagination. Couldn’t it?

  Chapter Four

  When Jack and Marin arrived at the shop, Bob was waiting. Not in the office, but in the main part of the store.

  Jack locked the door behind Marin without a lot of fuss, hoping they wouldn’t startle him into disappearing. Bob hadn’t shown himself in Marin’s presence since the ancient dragon fiasco. He and his Arkan Sonney friend Nelson had asked for help with pest control, reporting “something nasty in Nelson’s attic.” That something nasty turned out to be an ancient dragon’s essence, and its proximity to humans proved less than agreeable to their sanity.

  Jack tried not to linger overlong on the mental health risks of prolonged exposure to ancient dragon essence, given the fact that he now housed that same essence in his own body—reformatted to reflect his human self, but even so…

  Come on, Jack. Focus on the issues of today, not the mistakes of the past. Why had Bob suddenly lost his shyness?

  “Hey, Bob. Any chance you can see the future?”

  Bob’s nose twitched.

  Jack glanced at Marin, but she shook her head. Bob wasn’t giving that one up.

  “Do you mind joining Marin and I in the office?”

  Bob pivoted around and, with a jaunty little wiggle of his corkscrew tail, trotted away.

  When Marin and Jack joined Bob in the office, they found him not on the sofa or the client chair—his usual spots—but perched on the corner of Jack’s desk. Jack estimated the height of the desk at about two and a half to three feet. Certainly higher than he’d ever seen the generally sleepy and somewhat lazy Bob jump. His small, plump body didn’t look capable of the jump. Then again, Bob appeared and disappeared apparently at will, found modest treasures for the shop, and was tidier than any creature—human or otherwise—Jack had encountered.

  Bob’s magic worked in ways that scrambled any logic Jack tried to apply to it. He wasn’t sure why he kept trying.

  But they were here about the house, and Bob was looking on with keen interest, not at all like his usual sleepy self.

  Twenty questions seemed like the best solution, so Jack asked, “Do you know about the house?”

  Bob nodded.

  Marin stood quietly to the side. Jack didn’t think she could chase Bob off if she tried at this point. He looked downright excited.

  “You know about the magic in the house?” Another nod, so Jack asked, “And how the city wants to tear it down?”

  Bob nodded more vigorously.

  “And that we need to move it before the city can demolish it?”

  Marin broke her silence with a smothered giggle. Marin never giggled.

  “What’s up?”

  “Bob says, and I quote, ‘Big boom.’” She grinned at Jack.

  Jack groaned. “Yeah, we know. We’re trying to avoid that.”

  Head tilted, Bob blinked big, puppy-dog brown eyes at Jack.

  Jack’s store mascot was psychic. Or maybe intuitive. Or he had an underground network of gossipy Arkan Sonney friends who fed him with a constant supply of up-to-date intel.

  “Do you have a Friday night poker group or something?” Jack asked.

  “Uh, he thinks you have a screw loose.” Marin shrugged when Jack glared at her. “I’m translating loosely. Bob will meet us there, but he has something he needs to do first. He offers his apologies for the delay.”

  “When’s good?” Jack glanced at the clock. It was only just five.

  “Midnight,” Marin translated. “Any reason we’re meeting at midnight?” she asked Bob.

  But when Jack turned to Bob, the desk was empty. Their furry friend had vanished.

  “Well, shit.” Jack rubbed his eyes. “Did he at least give you any reason for the seven-hour delay?”

  “Things to do, basically. He’s a creature of few words. But I’ve been thinking we need more information on Kaisermann’s family—and I know where we can get started.”

  Jack didn’t like the cagey look in Marin’s eye.

  “Can we eat first?” he asked.

  “Our source will be happier if she’s fed, so we can eat there.”

  Jack loved Indian food, especially curry. And this particular restaurant was one of his favorites. But it was a chain—busy, loud, and with a lot of shared seating. In other words, not a place he’d normally expect to meet and speak openly with a source. These days, everything he did had magical overtones. It was true that the world of mundanes lived in constant denial—but he hated to smack people in the face with the reality of magic when he could avoid it.

  He set the stand with his order number attached on the table. The corner spot Marin had chosen ensured they’d only have curious eyes and ears on one side. He took a seat facing the restaurant’s only entrance doors. “So who exactly are we meeting?”

  “Penelope Smythe is…a special sort of friend.”

  Again with the caginess. This lady must be shady. “Special, as in your girlfriend? Or special, as in talented?”

  “Talented. And not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not quite that friendly.” Marin wrinkled her nose. “Fair warning: Pen doesn’t particularly like people.”

  “No problem. Antisocial means less chitchat.”

  “No—she’s social enough, just not keen on humans.” Marin leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. “Kelpie.”

  Jack hadn’t run into one of those before. “Some kind of sea creature?”

  “Oh, no—and don’t even think about m
entioning the sea. She’s a freshwater beast, not salt.”

  “And never the two shall meet?” Jack shook his head. “If you guys are friends, then dragons must pass muster. What’s the deal with humans?”

  “First, we’re more friendly than friends. Dragons are like puppies to her. You guys, on the other hand, are more like gnats.”

  “That’s more than a little unflattering. You’re sure we shouldn’t have waited to order?” Jack didn’t mind avoiding the cost of an additional meal—but it seemed odd, especially given the fact that he ranked among the lower orders by kelpie standards.

  “With what you’re paying her, she’ll be happy to pick up her own tab. She’s charging us by the hour, and you will smile and pay when you get the bill.”

  “Naturally, I’ll pay for any services we use.” But he’d smile about it when hell froze over.

  An older woman, hair neatly swept up into a tidy bun, entered the restaurant alone. Just as Jack had decided she was their dinner appointment, a younger man came in and hurried to catch up with her. A couple with small children—no way, not at a business meeting. A teenager with a nose piercing and weirdly colored hair—too young. A man in his twenties alone—wrong sex.

  Then Marin stood up and waved.

  The cotton-candy-haired girl waved back with a bright smile. Maybe not cotton candy—maybe more sea foam. Hell, like he even knew what sea foam meant. It was green, but not the color you got from being in the pool too much. As she approached the table, Jack could see a small metal dragon hugging the outer shell of her left ear.

  “Hi, Pen. How are you?” Marin hugged the girl.

  Marin with her bright red curls and unusual height and Pen with her not-chlorine-green hair, piercings, and short stature didn’t even warrant a second glance from grandma, family with kids, or single guy. Oh, and he’d missed the tattoos. Also a green-blue color; he couldn’t tell what they depicted because her billowing shirt would gape just long enough for him to catch glimpses of color along her collarbone but no specific pattern.

  Of course they could talk about magic here. None of the patrons would care or even notice. Man, he loved Austin.

  Pen held out her hand. Jack stood and shook it. She had a surprisingly businesslike handshake. Not something he expected from a five-foot-nothing teenager.

  Then he stepped back and looked, truly looked, at her. Diminutive height, flawless skin, and the overall look she cultivated made her appear young—but those lavender eyes were anything but. He experienced the same chilling creepiness he’d felt the first time he’d encountered a dragon. What she presented to the world was not the reality of herself. “Good to meet you.” He forced the words out.

  He hated the feeling, but he was experiencing a moment of gnat-likeness.

  “Hm. You’re different from the rest.” She placed a finger on her chin and tilted her head. Even her mannerisms had an affected cuteness.

  “Just human.” Marin spoke dismissively, as if what he was—or wasn’t—had no part in their conversation today.

  A catlike smile spread across Pen’s face. “All right then; that’s a mystery for another time.” She reached inside the large purse that was slung across her shoulder and pulled out a card. She handed it to Jack with another feline smile. “I’ll just go order. Be right back.”

  Jack sat and then looked down at the card in his hand. Beautiful blues and greens edged out with delicate gold scrollwork. “Fine antiques and collectibles? How is that relevant to our case?”

  Marin seated herself across from him. “She has an extensive knowledge of the history of Austin. People may be insignificant in and of themselves—but they create beautiful things. And those pretty pieces are much more valuable with their human history intact.”

  “You mean provenance, right?”

  “Yes. But an object’s history of ownership can also have significance beyond the provenance. A cute story sells well, a tragic one even better. But a true tragic tale can have real power.” Marin gave Jack a warning glance, but a hint of amusement tinged her voice. “Pen tells a mean story. Be careful.”

  Jack glanced over his shoulder and saw Pen was still at the counter ordering. “How old is she?”

  “Very.” Marin stared back at him blandly.

  Jack eyed the card and then Marin. Dragons as puppies. It was an interesting image.

  “Quit looking at me like that.” Marin snatched the card from his hand.

  Pen returned with a large glass of soda, a basket of naan, and her order number. As soon as she sat down, she tore into the naan. Literally.

  Jack couldn’t take his eyes off her teeth. They looked white and even—like any other teen who’d spent a few years in braces. But then—a flash, a tiny moment where two images met, one superimposed over the other. Even, white, human teeth faded. Crowded, sharp, sharklike teeth flashed atop the false image of orthodontic perfection. Again, a chill crawled up his back.

  And since when did horses have pointy shark teeth? Either he needed to do a little research on kelpies—or legend got the whole horse thing wrong.

  Marin kicked him under the table.

  He glanced away. When he looked back, the bread was gone.

  “So, Pen, what have you found on Mr. Kaisermann?” Marin asked.

  Pen patted daintily at the corners of her mouth with her paper napkin. “His family has been in Austin for three generations. Before that, the Kaisermann family diverges into a German branch and a Polish branch. I’m rather partial to the Polish side of the family—there were a few jewelers in that branch.” Her eyes glittered with an unearthly light. “But I suspect you’re more interested in the family tree with connections to a refuge?”

  Jack exchanged a quick glance with Marin—but he couldn’t read anything in her face.

  “No, no. Little Marin didn’t spill the beans. But really, a refuge, in Austin? She didn’t have to.”

  “So you know about our problem?” Despite Marin’s caution, Jack couldn’t help but hope that they might have found an ally. Allies were good when dealing with unexploded magical bombs.

  Pen flashed him a darling grin, devoid of any sharp edges or fangs. “I couldn’t care less. That’s your problem.”

  Jack tried to wrap his head around that. How would the city of Austin exploding in a cloud of magical dust not also affect Pen? Including her home, her business, maybe her life.

  “Oh, don’t think so hard. You might bust a blood vessel in your tiny little human brain. Humans come and go. Cities rise and fall. It’s the natural order of human civilization. And I do love a good scavenge.” She smiled sweetly, revealing a dimple. “But I wish you the best of luck. Citywide destruction would be…mildly inconvenient.”

  Before she could elaborate—if she ever intended to—the waitress arrived with his and Marin’s food.

  “Please eat,” Pen said. “Mine will be along shortly.”

  Marin started in on her tikka masala, so Jack took his cue from her. And he did love a good palak paneer.

  Pen leaned forward and inhaled. “Lovely. So, the Kaisermann family’s German roots. There was once a refuge in the Black Forest—oh, years ago.”

  “And by years, you mean what exactly?” Marin asked.

  Pen waved a dainty hand in the hair. Jack noticed for the first time that her nails were painted a shade of light blue-green very similar to her hair. “More than a decade, less than a millennium.”

  Marin sighed. “Pen, sometimes, your sense of time is less than useful.”

  Tiny little frown lines appeared on Pen’s forehead. “It’s all in my notes. Silly girl, sometimes the story is bigger than the details. Pay attention.”

  “Apologies.” Marin’s lips were tight, but the corners pulled up at the edges.

  Jack guessed laughing at the ancient, sharp-toothed creature might be perceived as a slight.

  “Where was I? Yes, the Black Forest. There was a house, deep in the woods, a place to hide from the ill-intentioned magical beings of the day. Humans fea
red the dark, and places deep in the woods, in those days.”

  “They still do,” Jack interjected.

  Pen raised a fine, pale green eyebrow. “True.” She sounded surprised. But then she gestured dismissively. “That human fear of all things unknown became the refuge’s protection. A word here and there about witches and children and cannibalism”—she snapped her fingers—“and the refuge was safe from human intervention.”

  The waitress interrupted them with the delivery of two meals—both ordered by Pen.

  Now aware that sharp teeth lay hidden beneath an illusion, curiosity pulled at him. He knew her predator’s teeth would rip apart flesh as easily as the bread he’d seen her shred. Jack made himself look away.

  Eventually, Marin asked, “What’s the connection between the house in the Black Forest and the refuge here in Austin?”

  Jack looked up and found that Pen’s noodle dish had disappeared.

  “Between the houses? Oh, nothing at all.” Pen began eating the remaining curry with no particular haste. But then she paused, wiped her mouth, and her eyes narrowed. “That house deep in the forest came to an unfortunate end. Overtaken by a coven. Tainted.” The hint of a snarl emerged—the impression given but no sound heard. But the anger—fury, even—disappeared as quickly as it had manifested.

  Jack fought the urge to stand up and leave—quickly. Then his brain turned back on and he remembered that the coven he knew—the Coven of Light—was no friend to him or his allies. The enemy of his enemy and all that? Maybe. But Pen seemed closer in definition to foe than friend. And then he caught sight of her plate.

  Even eating with beautiful table manners and cutting all of the meat into tiny, bite-sized pieces, half of Pen’s curry was gone.

  Marin kicked him under the table again. He’d be black and blue before the end of this meeting.

  “So, it’s the caretaker family that the Black Forest refuge and ours share?” Marin asked.

  “In one, my little dragon.” Pen smiled with an almost maternal affection.

  Pen really did have a soft spot for dragons. The pastel hair and frail appearance had faded into the background, overshadowed by sharp, hard edges. The more Jack shared Penelope’s company, the more he saw of what he believed was her true self.