He was gorgeous. His voice was gorgeous. I supposed if I was about to die, this wouldn’t be a bad thing to see right before I rolled on out.
“I know you, Tuesday Galloway. I do not know the human with you. Nor do I know what the two of you are doing in my home, looking through the things of my mate.”
“Trying to find her killer,” I said.
I felt Tuesday’s glare.
“Her killer has been found.”
“Not according to him. And not according to his girlfriend, who supposedly sent him to do this.”
“What will you do?” Tuesday asked.
“Well, my first instinct is to just kill you, be done with it. I don’t need any more things to manage,” he said. “But if you’re here, Tuesday Galloway, you must feel there is a reason to be so. Maybe I’ll wait a bit, see what you have to say. Before I decide whether I’m going to kill you.”
“That would be really great. The not killing thing, I mean,” I burst out before I could stop myself.
Tuesday rolled her eyes and made a sound that could only be described as disgusted.
“I’m Levi Cassidy. You are?”
“Deana Holliday.”
“Holliday?”
“Fourth cousin,” I said. Even before I knew about my Deadwood family, I got this reaction a lot. It was kind of funny that it even happened with a vampire and then the thought struck me—he might have known Doc. Probably not the best time to ask.
Levi nodded. “Come into the living room. Bring the journal,” he added, looking at us both. “I can read it, if you give me a good reason as to why I should.” He turned on his heel, clearly expecting us to hop to it.
And clearly not afraid of having us at his back. For some reason, that scared me more than anything else had tonight. I’m a confident gal—and I don’t turn my back on anyone.
Levi moved smoothly through the dark rooms of his house. I kept close to Tuesday because why couldn’t these damn vampires turn on a light? If I wasn’t worried about falling on my face, my eyes would be rolling to the next state.
Thankfully, he turned a light on once we reached a room with large glass doors. The moon was bright out over the ocean. I could see why Jessamine wanted to be here, even if she couldn’t enjoy it during the day.
Levi rounded on us. “Why are you here? Tell me the truth.”
Tuesday sighed.
I stepped forward, hand out, before she could say anything. “I’m Deana Holliday, as I told you. I run an investigative agency. Kel, the man accused of killing Jessamine, is an old friend of mine. He asked for my help. The only reason I’ve been able to find out anything is because of my aunts—you may know them? The Nightingales of Deadwood?” I handed him the diary—or journal, as he referred to it.
Levi’s eyebrows went up as he took the journal back from me—they were dark black, and gave him an air of authority, mixed in with his salt and pepper hair—I stopped myself. I really needed to focus on something other than the fact that I found him extremely attractive. Because you know, the whole killing thing.
“I know the Nightingales.” He looked at me. “But I do not know you.”
“My great gran is the fourth sister. She left Deadwood.”
Levi shook his head. “Humans are odd. Be that as it may, you are not your aunts. So why, if you’re working for the man who killed my mate, should I believe anything you say?”
“Because I don’t want him to die, even if he is kind of a dickhead, and I hate seeing the wrong person pay for a crime,” I said, surprising myself. I didn’t mean to tell Levi this much, but the words kept falling out of my mouth.
He nodded as if in understanding. “That might be a waste of your time, but it’s not a bad thing to want to see right done.” Levi sat down. “Sit. Neither of you is going anywhere anytime soon. Tell me why you want Jessamine’s journal.”
I looked at Tuesday.
“This is your show, Deana. For the record, I was against this,” she directed that last bit at Levi.
“Thanks,” I said. Some ally.
“Why do you need it?” Levi asked.
I sighed. “All right. So we went to talk to Alfonso Delgado,” I noted that Levi’s lip came up in a sneer, “And he has Lavina, the vampire who argued with your mate, locked away for the foreseeable future. We got to see her, but—”
“How did you manage that?” Levi asked.
“There is a leprechaun on her person,” Tuesday said dryly.
Levi nodded. I felt like there was a lot being said that I wasn’t understanding, but I wasn’t in a place to pick that apart.
“Go on,” he said.
“Lavina said she came here to get some herbs from Jessamine, and that Jessamine was scrying, and wasn’t quite done. Lavina heard some of what Jessamine said… and that’s what they argued over. Lavina said she told Jessamine she had to share whatever it was she saw, and Jessamine said no, and,” I shrugged, “That’s what they argued about.”
“What did Jess see?”
“Lavina wouldn’t share that,” Tuesday interjected. “Whatever it was, it scared her. She said she wasn’t the person to share the information—that she’d be killed as soon as it was known. She’s afraid. That, she is not lying about.”
“What do you think she’s lying about?” I asked.
Now it was Tuesday’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know. I know that Lavina is, as we’ve discussed, very interested in self-preservation.”
“As are all of us,” Levi said quietly. He was looking at the small leather book in his hands. “I can read her code. I can tell you what it was she saw.”
“How do we know which prophecy or whatever it was?” I asked.
“She did not work again before she was killed,” Levi said. “I left for business the next evening, and Jess was on the beach. She had no plans to work.” Before, he’d looked middle-aged. Now, he looked very old, and tired. And sad.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
His head shot up. “Thank you. I’m still… well, we were together for a long time. I find that I am still looking for her. I was looking forward to seeing your friend pay for his act, but if he is not the one who did this, the real killer must be found.”
“Kind of the point,” I replied. “Are you willing to read the last entry to us, then? See what it is she saw that started all of this?”
He stared at me, and I wondered if I’d gone too far. I was doing a lot of wondering in that realm this week, and I felt like perhaps I was pushing my luck, but I also got the feeling that vampires respected strength. They were predators. If you showed fear, you went right into the ‘prey’ category.
And I was no one’s prey.
“Yes, I will.”
I pulled out my phone, ready to record him. Levi turned the pages of the book, his fingers brushing lightly over the pages, almost reverently.
“Here it is,” he said. “Give me a moment. It’s been some time since I read her work.”
We waited silently, watching Levi as he read through the journal. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he looked up, and leaned back.
“I can see why Jess didn’t want to share this,” he said slowly. “It would have been a death sentence.”
“What is it?” I asked, trying not to reach over and shake him.
“She was filling a scry request for…” He stopped. “For Delgado.”
“I knew his hand was in this,” Tuesday muttered.
“What did she see?”
“This is what it says. ‘The spells made will backfire. The merger of dem and del will fail, but not before dragging everyone down. Consider how to share. Must be diplomatic.’” Levi stopped.
“And?” I asked. “Was she writing in some kind of shorthand?” What was dem and del? Del was Delgado. I’d bet the Chief on it.
“That’s it, and yes, she did use her own sort of shorthand.”
“Didn’t Lavina say that Jessamine also did spell work?” I was trying to remember who had said it—and fai
ling.
Levi nodded. “She was gifted.”
“So who was her last spell client?”
“That, I don’t know,” he set the book down next to him.
“Something for Delgado?” Tuesday asked.
“We could ask—” I began, as Tuesday skewered me with a glare.
“No, we could not ask.” Her voice brooked no discussion.
“I could,” Levi said. “I could inquire if she finished the work for him.”
“What, you’re on the team now?” I shook my head. “You guys go from ‘oh, let’s kill you’ to ‘Yeah, let’s work together’ awfully quick.” I couldn’t deny that the thought of working with him made my heart speed up, and I wondered what my two vampire companions made of that? Let them think I’m annoyed.
“It’s one of the benefits of being extremely practical,” Levi said.
“Don’t ask him. If this is what Lavina and Jessamine both felt was killing information, better that he not know we have it.” This was one thing I was sure about. No need to update Delgado on anything.
“So what do you plan to do?” Levi looked at me.
So did Tuesday.
“I don’t know. Honestly, it’s been a long night, and I’m in a bit of info overload. Can you keep that safe?” I nodded at the journal. “Like, lock and key safe. I need to go home and sleep and think. And unlike you two, I have to go into work tomorrow.”
“Then we should leave. I am sorry we broke in,” Tuesday said to Levi, oddly formal.
“It was practical,” I couldn’t resist.
Tuesday didn’t look at me, but Levi smiled, just the corners of his mouth turning up as he stood. “I can see where you’d think so,” he said. “I’ll show you out the door this time.”
I kept my mouth shut and nodded. He didn’t need to know that we’d picked the lock. He might already know. I wasn’t going to worry about it.
What I needed now was to get home and get to sleep and try not to drift off on the way home.
Tired as I was, I saw Levi’s little smile all the way home.
Chapter Nine
My alarm needed to die. It was going off in the most annoying fashion, and all I wanted was to go back to bed. I slapped in the general direction of where it was yelling at me but missed. It kept yelling. Finally, I got up, and hauled myself to the shower.
After three cups of coffee, I crawled into Baby, my FJ cruiser (no Chief today), and made it to my office in time to open the door and make a pot of coffee just in time for opening. And just when I wanted to sit at my desk and close my eyes, the bell over the door jangled.
“Hi, how can I help you?” I asked as I got up. The glare from the sun blinded me for a moment and I couldn’t see anything more than an outline.
Then he stepped forward. He was tall, and thin, and looked young. His hair stood up in messy spikes, but it was deliberate, because everything about this man was deliberate. He wore a suit, and wow, did it look good on him.
There was something more about him. Which led me to wonder if there was some sort of mark on my place—because my supernatural/other clients were outnumbering the work I had to do on what I was calling my ‘normals.’
“Hello,” he said, holding out a hand. “I’m Madigan.”
I took his hand. “Deana Holliday. How can I help you?”
Madigan sat down without me even saying anything. “Let’s be honest, Ms. Holliday. I know who your family is, and you have, no doubt, by now figured out that I’m not just another guy in a suit.”
Putting my desk between us, I sat down and gave him my best stink eye. “I got that impression.”
He nodded, smiling pleasantly. “Excellent. Saves time when all parties are… out in the open.”
“What are you?”
“I beg your pardon?” His smile never shifted.
Creepy. In a kind of… attractive way. What was wrong with me?
“What are you? You know my back story. I’m asking for information.”
“Well, let’s say, I’m extended family of the… gentleman you and your aunts sent to Hell recently.”
Whatever I’d been expecting, that wasn’t it. “I’m sorry? You’re related to… no. You look…nothing alike.”
He laughed, sounding genuinely pleased. “No, some of us go for a more modern look, but there are always people who prefer a more traditional life.”
Yeah, I guess you’d call Ashlar’s horns and gross loincloth ‘traditional’ in demon-land. “If you say so,” I said.
“Well, it takes all types. Anyway, I’m not here because of that, although I won’t deny it piqued my interest.”
“Great,” I said, not even trying to keep my disgust hidden.
“Patience, Ms. Holliday. I’m here on business, business for myself. I would like you to find something for me.”
“Oh?”
“I’m looking for a pistol. A Volcanic pistol made around the time of the Civil War,” he said, leaning back in his chair and gazing at the ceiling with his hands clasped in front of him.
“You’re going to have to give me more than that,” I said, opening my laptop and starting a file. “Any Volcanic? A particular serial number? Did it belong to someone in particular? How many were made?”
“This is a particular pistol. It’s enchanted. I don’t need some Civil War weapon that might blow my hand off in the normal course of things,” he said, leaning forward and looking earnestly at me.
How the hell did he look like such a good guy? I found that despite his family connections, I liked him. I liked the direct manner he took with me.
But then I remembered. This was a demon, and given what my family was still going through, they were tricky as shit. Maybe this guy had found that his earnest businessman in a suit served him better. Better to assume he was up to something that would blow up in my face.
Wait. I didn’t have to take his business. I straightened my shoulders. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Madigan, but I won’t be able to help you.”
“No?” He still smiled pleasantly.
“No,” I shook my head. “I’m actually booked pretty solid for the foreseeable future, and I wouldn’t want to take on a case that I wasn’t able to give the proper attention to.”
“Deana—may I call you Deana?”
I nodded. Here comes the knife, I thought.
“You’re probably the only person who can find this for me. I’m not going to ask you to actively look for it, but if it should come into your hands, you are to call me immediately. I will make this financially lucrative for you, of course.”
“I’m really sorry, but I am not taking this case.” I stood up, pasting on my own pleasant fake smile.
“Sit down, please.”
I remained standing.
He sighed. “Well, have it your way.” He stood, brushing off the tops of his pants. “I’ll make this simple. When you come across the Volcanic, you will let me know, and you will turn it over to me. Is that clear?”
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first two times. I am not taking the case.”
“And you are not listening to me. I am not asking,” he said. “If you do not have it for me, in say, the next month or so, I will take it out on,” he waved his hand around, “Your nice, new business.”
“What?” He was clearly psycho.
“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t shut you down completely. But it will make it difficult with the full schedule you currently have.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Thank you for your time, Deana. I look forward to seeing you sooner rather than later and concluding our business. Have a pleasant afternoon.” He strolled out the door like he didn’t have a care in the world.
I sat back down. Like I didn’t have enough shit going on? Then I opened my laptop and looked up Volcanic pistols. They were an early pistol made by a company that folded into the Winchester company right after the Civil War.
Well, at least now I knew what I was looking at if it should come ac
ross my path. Madigan had spoken as though he was sure it would. And it was enchanted? I shook my head. I wanted to dismiss it, but my meager experience with demons suggested that would be a seriously bad call.
There was no helping it. I had thirty days to prove no such thing would cross my path, my doorstep, or anywhere in my universe.
As much as his visit had unsettled me, I had to get to work. Kel had a little over three days left. And I still had no idea who had killed Jessamine.
The rest of the morning was spent catching up on my emails from other clients—lost sister, lost daughter, lost father, is my husband cheating—that sort of thing. Thankfully, most of this could be done online, but a few required me to head out and sit in the car. Today would be a great day for that.
I also put in a few calls to the local police department on behalf of Zachary’s request. He was looking for someone who’d been stealing from members of his coven. Why he thought I’d be better at this, I didn’t know, but I wanted to address it and get it off my plate.
I decided I’d head out after lunch, wanting to put as many of these cases to bed as I could. And I needed to call Kel. That one, I was dreading. I knew a lot more, but not enough to get him off the hook. Or keep him alive.
Lunch first. There was a place a few doors down from me that did the best cheeseburgers I’d ever eaten. It was a dive bar, but whoever it was they had in the kitchen made the perfect cheeseburger. Which was perfect for today.
I sat at the bar and had a tonic water while I waited. Once my order was ready, I went back to my office, and saw someone standing at the door. He turned around, and I saw that it was Caleb.
“Come in,” I said, unlocking the door.
“I’ve interrupted your lunch,” he said in his somber tone.
“Yes, but it doesn’t mean you’re unwelcome.” I found that I liked him immensely. His story had been rattling around my head since I’d heard it—two days ago? Was that it? It was so sad, and yet, he didn’t seem sad about dying.
“You look good today,” I said.
“I am as I am every day.”
I sat back at my desk. “Okay, tell me what it is you would like me to do after you die,” I said. I was proud of myself for not wincing as I said the word.
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