For Pete's Sake

by Shannon Esposito

“Okay then, we have a plan. Let’s try to get some sleep.” Willow put her cup in the sink and we trudged back up the stairs with the animals.

  I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep so I put Petey in his crate. Goldie jumped up on the bed, flopped down and stretched out. I rubbed her belly. “You keep Petey company, girl. Momma’s got some practicing to do.”

  I opened the door to the third spare bedroom. The room which held my book, personally-tuned chalice, crystals and other essentials for my practice. Sighing, I whispered, “I’m sorry, Will.” No matter how much this might separate Will and I further, it was time.

  *****

  Turned out, I didn’t have to go far to find Zach. He was waiting for me when Mallory and I exited the gate and walked the few feet to the boutique Wednesday morning. His imposing figure—dressed in jeans, a gray t-shirt and black cowboy boots—lounged against the stucco wall.

  Goldie trotted over and sat in front of him, her tail swishing the cement, eyes squinting up happily. I remembered Lucky’s complete opposite reaction to him. Guess it was only cats that didn’t like him. Or maybe just one particular cat.

  He kneeled down and gave her a good rub beneath the ears and then tilted his head up to look at us. “Darwin, I’m not trying to ambush you here, but we need to talk. Hey, Mallory.”

  Mallory took Goldie’s leash from me, ignoring Zach. “I’ll take the dogs across the street.”

  Zach stood and smirked at her exit. “Not a fan?”

  I unlocked the door and then turned to watch my sister make her way across the street to the park. The gray Gulf water beyond the park seemed cold and menacing. Uneasiness rippled through me. “Let’s chat inside.”

  Tossing my bag on the tea table, I glared at Zach. I didn’t know why I was so angry at him, besides the whole dream invasion thing. Probably making me rely on him for information when all I wanted was him out of my life.

  Do you really? A little voice asked in my head.

  I ignored it. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

  I went and turned on the lights and the air conditioning, then booted up the computer. By the time I was finished, Mallory was back with the dogs.

  I slid into the chair across from Zach. Goldie came and stretched out at my feet beneath the table. “So talk. What do you know about my father?”

  His expression was no longer guarded. His dark eyes bore into mine, holding them unapologetically. “Ash Winters.” He paused, his head tilted. “He left his world without permission because he fell in love with the human race, became obsessed with their innocence and ability to love despite the horrors they inflict on each other. This is apparently a weakness for them … human love.” His eyes sparked and the intensity of his gaze flared. He shifted his focus out the window instead of at me and continued. “And then he fell in love with one particular human. Your mother. Your father’s kind are allowed to interact, to observe but they are also warned—don’t interfere, don’t get involved, don’t change the balance of your world. Their power can wreak too much havoc on your delicate balance here. But, he didn’t listen.”

  I was struggling to follow him and process what he’d just said. “So, you’re saying in this other world, where our father’s from, everyone is an elemental like us?”

  Mallory had stopped cleaning the counter and was very still, listening.

  Zach shook his head, finally turning back to me, his eyes widening slightly at my question. “Have you not been told about your ancestry by now?”

  I shook my head and held my breath. I knew Father was from another world, but I had no idea what that meant exactly. Did Zach know? Would he tell me? I let my eyes do the pleading, afraid my voice would fail me.

  He watched me for a moment and then nodded. “Very well. You should know. Your father comes from Sidhe or the Otherworld. A parallel dimension of gods, immortals and magic.”

  “Sidhe.” I tried the name out on my tongue. It felt good. “So, is our father immortal?” I whispered, almost choking on the revelation.

  “No. He can live a long life, but he can also be killed like any other mortal. His is a race the Irish legends called Tuath De’ and later Fae, though they call themselves neither. His race is gifted with certain abilities to manipulate the energies of nature, which serves a particular function to keep their world in balance, but his gifts work differently here. They are more powerful and can cause disruptions. It’s why your father could work true magic here, but it’s also why it’s punishable for Tuath De’ to mix with mortals. His disobedience wasn’t discovered until after he had already returned many times and fathered the three of you.”

  “Lucky for us,” I whispered. “But, wait …What about his mother? Is Grandma Winters from this Otherworld, too?”

  “Yes, but she’s not his real mother, in the sense that you’re used to. Once he fathered the three of you, she was sent to watch over you, a guardian of sorts to make sure your inherited gifts didn’t upset the balance. From what I’ve been able to gather, when a Tuath De’ mates with a human, the offspring receive a small part of the Tuath De’ abilities, an elemental gift—the ability to control earth, fire, water or air. They may also come with other subtler side effects, like your energetic connection with animals.”

  And also feeling strong human emotions.

  “She was to teach you how to use these gifts so you didn’t hurt yourselves or others. Also so you would understand how important it was to keep them hidden. But your father had to be punished for his rule-breaking. He was brought back to his world and imprisoned.”

  “Yeah, we think he’s in some kind of underwater prison. How long will they keep him there?”

  “That I don’t know.”

  My head was whirling with the new information. It felt like Christmas. “We’ve all dreamed about him, but we think they were actually visits. That’s possible, right?”

  Zach cocked his head thoughtfully. “Yes. There are doors from Sidhe to this world. Dreams, trances, a few physical spots where the membranes are thin enough to slip through … if you know where they are. Which I don’t.”

  But he knew how to slip into my dreams. A combination of embarrassment and anger rushed heat to my face. “Dreams seem to have a lot of unwanted doors.” I leaned back in my chair, putting distance between us, and crossed my arms.

  He nodded but instead of looking apologetic, he leaned toward me on the table. “The open state while dreaming allows for a connection with the universal consciousness. All doors are open. It’s a vulnerable time. And—” he flattened his hands on the table. And there it was finally—the remorseful look I’d been waiting for. “I’m truly sorry if you feel I took advantage of that. The truth is I don’t have as much self-control there as I do here.”

  That makes two of us.

  His hands opened. “Forgive me?”

  I glared at him, but realized I did forgive him. “Sure. Just try harder not to … butt into my consciousness.”

  Relief softened his face. “You have my word.”

  Sweat prickled my neck. He still felt dangerous to me. Time to change the subject. “Why are you telling me all this now?”

  He sat back in the chair. “I saw the threat through my own dreams. You’re in danger, all of you. That’s what I needed to tell you. I’m not sure why, but there’s a hatred pointed in your direction from Sidhe like a missile. In my own dreams, I only see pieces of the threat. Its eyes, a mouth full of rows of shark-like teeth, razor blade tail like some weaponized mermaid.”

  I went still inside at his description. It had to be the same woman we’d all seen.

  “A rage burns deep within her. I …” He seemed unsure of himself for the first time. “Darwin, I don’t know if I can protect you from her.”

  My body went cold at his fear and my memory of her manifesting in the Gulf, but I straightened my back and shoulders. “I can protect myself.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. Was he amused? He better not be laughing at me. I felt the heat rise in
my cheeks.

  But the look he was giving me now was too intense to be mistaken for amusement. “Are you still shunning your gift?”

  I wanted to say that it was none of his business, but I found myself suddenly too tired and too in need of an ally. “I’ve started practicing.” Though, from my efforts last night I had a long way to go to be able to control it. I was definitely rusty.

  His chin dipped once. “Good.” He took a deep breath and slid out of the chair. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything else. Be careful.” Then he added sheepishly, “Please.”

  “Zach, one more question.”

  He nodded.

  “Why are you dreaming about her … about the threat to us?”

  “Because, Darwin, we’re connected.” His dark, liquid gaze held mine as a sad smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. “I am bound to you.”

  I watched him disappear through the door, stunned by his words. Bound to me? Could what Willow told me about jinn be true? Her words came back to me:

  One thing I do know is when jinn fall in love, they become sort of a slave… bound to that person's desires, to help them out in their life.

  The soaring heat rushing through my body only confused me, angered me. It felt a lot like joy. I squeezed my eyes closed. “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.” Once I felt more under control I turned to face my sister, hoping she didn’t hear that last part.

  So, what did you think of all that?” I asked Mallory.

  She was kneeling on the floor, trying to slip Petey’s tiny legs through a t-shirt while he gnawed on her finger. When she glanced up, her green eyes were slick with tears. “Why couldn’t Mom just explain that all to us? Why couldn’t she tell us about that other world and where our gifts came from? Why did we have to hear it from a stranger?”

  Petey squirmed and rolled over on his back. Mallory scratched his pink belly and then leaned over and kissed his nose, her tears falling into his fur.

  My first reaction was to defend Zach. He wasn’t exactly a stranger. Instead, I crossed my arms. “I don’t know, Mal. But you can bet whatever her reasons were, they weren’t to hurt us. She obviously thought she was protecting us.”

  “Well, that didn’t work, did it?”

  I knew she was thinking about the crazy woman stalking us. I could feel the anger in her words. I went to the back to check my supply of flower essence, deciding to leave her to work it out herself. We would all have to do that.

  A heaviness had lifted off my heart. I stared at the brown glass flower essence bottles, labeled and lined up on the shelves, trying to figure out why. And then it hit me. I’d always wondered if our gifts had come from a place of good or evil. Knowing that they were just a result of our unique genetics and not from the devil or any of the other things people believed, well … it felt good. I didn’t feel like such a freak. And it suddenly seemed wrong to shun that part of myself. After all, if I couldn’t even accept all of me, then how could I expect Will to?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I was still in a good mood when Mrs. Fieldsman came in an hour later to order a birthday cake for her elderly Dashhound.

  “What’s in this one, dear? Peanut has a gluten allergy, you know.” Her gnarled hand shook as she pointed to a bowl-shaped cake.

  “No problem, Mrs. Fieldsman. I only use coconut flour since gluten can be a problem for a lot of dogs. Besides the flour, that particular cake is made from shredded carrots, peanut butter, eggs, baking soda, coconut oil and a splash of vanilla.”

  Mrs. Fieldsman chuckled. “Well, that sounds good enough to share with her.”

  I grinned. “That part you actually could eat. Though, I do fill the bowl with some high quality dog kibble, so you might want to skip that.”

  Her watery blue eyes were full of good humor as she winked at me. “Thanks for the advice. I guess I’ll take it in the pink. Can you have that delivered Saturday morning? I’m having her party at noon.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  As I was about to fill out the order, the bells over the door jingled. I glanced up. It was Will and he did not look happy.

  “Hey, Mal?” I called.

  She peered around the corner of the cat aisle. “Yeah?”

  “Can you finish up Mrs. Fieldsman’s cake order for me?” I jerked my head toward Will, who was pacing in front of the leashes hanging on the wall.

  “Yeah, sure.” She hurried over, getting the hint.

  “Thanks. Pink bowl. Delivery for Saturday morning.” I moved to Will’s side. Looking up at him, the tension in his face was obvious. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

  He dropped a distracted kiss on my cheek, and then rubbing his own forehead roughly he said, “Yes. The M.E. pinned down time of death to around nine a.m., give or take a half an hour. He also got the toxicology test results back from the FBI crime lab this morning. They confirmed his suspicion that Vanek was killed with succinylcholine. Sux is a fast-acting muscle relaxant that paralyzes the respiratory muscles. Anesthesiologists use it.” Will’s eyes flashed with a fresh, bright anger. “So he would’ve been aware, awake but unable to move while he suffocated to death.”

  My hand flew to my mouth. No wonder Will was so agitated. “That’s just awful. Who would do something like that?”

  His jaw muscles tightened as he glared at the wall of leashes, not seeing them. “That’s what I’m going to find out.”

  I paused, letting the waves of anger, both mine and Will’s move away before I asked, “How easy is it to get this drug? Can you just order it over the Internet?”

  He nodded and his troubled gaze met mine. “You can probably order anything over the Internet. But most likely, the killer got it from a local hospital, doctor’s office … or vet clinic.”

  He reached out and pulled me into him. His body shuddered, and then he steeled himself once more before releasing me.

  Warmth flooded my body as I realized he did actually lean on me for support. Maybe he even needed me. My heart swelled with love for him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed into him one more time. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Hey, you okay?” He asked as I pulled away.

  My chin tilted up, I nodded and gave him a reassuring smile.

  “All right. I’m heading over to the Southern Cross Clinic now to have a chat with Dr. Marisol Olivero. They provide the vet care for Helping Paws Rescue. Sassy White and her shelter seem to be connected to Vanek’s death somehow, so I’m starting there.”

  That was really only a hunch, but it was all we had. I gave his hands an encouraging squeeze. “I know finding out how Peter died is just awful news, but knowing does bring us one step closer to putting this killer behind bars where he belongs, doesn’t it?”

  “Hopefully.” Lifting one of my hands, he pressed a kiss on my palm. His shoulders sagged beneath his jacket, and he suddenly looked beat. “Landon called me last night, wanted to know how the investigation was going. He sounded really … down.”

  I nodded. “They both are.” Then I thought of something. “You know what? I’m going to give Sylvia a call. Maybe just knowing Peter had this sux drug in his system will be enough evidence of foul play for her mother to give her blessing now.”

  He forced a sad smile. “That would be the rational thing for her to do.”

  I sighed. He’s right. Rational isn’t in the building. I had to try anyway.

  I was getting ready to leave a message when a breathless Sylvia picked up. “I’m here. You have news?”

  “Yes.” Finally, I could say yes. “I do. It’s good and bad. Will just stopped by. Peter had a drug called sux in his system. It’s a fast-acting muscle relaxant that paralyzes the respiratory muscles. Anesthesiologists use it, which is the bad news. He…he suffocated to death.”

  A gasp from Sylvia’s end. “That is awful. Pobre homem.”

  “I know, it is awful. Will’s more determined than ever to find the person who did this. But, the good news is it does prove that Peter didn’t die
from natural causes. Do you think it’s enough for your mother to give her blessing now?”

  “Eu não sei. Hold on. She is here.”

  I listened as Sylvia explained the new information to her mother. I didn’t understand the words, but I did hear the hope in her tone. After a moment of silence, that changed. Her voice began to rise. I could hear her mother’s voice rising in the background, too. I bit my cuticle. What in the world were they saying? It was definitely starting to sound like an argument.

  Sylvia came back on the phone with a growl. “My mother, she thinks you make this up to trick her into giving her blessing. Only an arrest for the murder of Peter Vanek would convince her that this wasn’t God’s will.”

  I refrained from banging my head on the counter, but just barely.

  *****

  I sat on the edge of the sofa after dinner, with Lucky stretched out behind me, purring loudly. Willow sat on a footstool in front of me while I brushed her long hair until it shined, like I used to do when we were kids. It was soothing to both our nerves. Mallory was sprawled out on the floor playing with the dogs.

  Mallory and I had just finished explaining to Willow everything Zach had told me about Sidhe and Father being Tauth De’ and how Grandma Winters wasn’t really our grandma but our guardian of sorts, which made our relationship with her make much more sense. Her short visits, her obsession with our gifts, even Mom’s attitude toward her, which was more reverence than warmth.

  We were trying to figure out what our next move should be.

  “Well, if she’s truly our guardian,” Willow said, “it doesn’t make me feel any better that she sounded so worried today when I finally got ahold of her.”

  “She sounded worried?” Mallory pushed herself up on one elbow. “You didn’t tell me that.” Petey jumped into the cascade of auburn hair falling down her shoulder. “Ouch!” She worked to get it from his teeth. “She’s never seemed worried about anything.”

  “Yeah, which is why I didn’t want to tell you,” Willow said.

  “What exactly did she say?” I put the brush aside and started to French braid her hair.