Midlife Demon Hunter: The Forty Proof Series, Book 3

by Mayer, Shannon

  “Let’s go talk to this goblin. See if we can snag us a job. Should be easy since he’s looking for us.” I jogged across the street, easily dodging the traffic slowly making its way through Savannah’s shopping district, Feish on my heels. The four-story hotel was painted green, and the the window-covered front of the building was inexplicably dark for this time of day. Or maybe it was just me and my overly active imagination. Yes, it could be just me.

  As we stepped into the lobby, a noticeable chill slid over my skin.

  Then again, maybe it wasn’t just me.

  I grabbed Feish and stopped her beside me as the cold wrapped around my wrist and tugged me toward the stairs.

  “Feish. A ghost is pulling on me, I think.” Or a ghostly energy anyway. Normally I could see ghosts, but I didn’t see anything of the sort.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out Robert’s finger bone and set it on the ground. A moment later, he materialized at my side, swaying ever so slightly. Feish blinked her bulbous eyes at me, the extra layer of thin transparent skin flicking over her eyeballs.

  “You think we need Robert?”

  “He’s got an eye for these things, and has saved my bacon more than once,” I said softly as I took a few steps forward. The pull of the strange energy still tugged at me, but something else had caught my attention, holding my feet where they were.

  Ahead of me stood a cluster of three men in suits and ties having what looked like an intense discussion. Two were average height, the third barely four feet tall, though he held himself up straight and acted as though he ruled the room. That alone wouldn’t have interested me, but a fourth man strode up to them, shook their hands, and motioned for them to follow him deeper into the hotel.

  Seeing that last man set off my Spidey sense. The fourth man was Davin, the only council member I knew. Mid-thirties, he was smarmy, a liar, and I didn’t like him. He’d helped Sarge and Corb go undercover to dig out the poisonous roots of Hattie and her crew’s organization, but from what I could tell, he hadn’t been entirely honest even with them.

  “Feish, are those other three guys council members?” I made myself step to the side, tucking us behind a tall plant. Not exactly hiding, but at least we were out of their direct line of sight. Given that the council had summoned me to speak about my involvement in the shadow world—and I’d ignored said summons—I didn’t want to land on their radar again.

  Far as I was concerned, the council was full of misogynistic pricks who kept women and others they deemed as “lesser,” like half-breeds or weaker supernaturals, from any position in which they might get a say. Not my kind of people, and I could only imagine the way our conversation would go. Them trying to boss me. Me telling them to duck off. Hardly productive.

  Feish peeked around the edge of the plant. “Yes, two of them. Roderick is one. The other is Bruce. Third is a goblin named Derek. They are all going toward the main ballroom.”

  From between the plant’s sparse leaves, I watched as they went, taking note of the men, making sure they were completely around the corner before I stepped out from behind our hiding place.

  “You think Derek is our guy?” I asked quietly.

  “No,” Feish burbled. “Derek would not ask Jinx to pass on message. Not his style.”

  It didn’t surprise me that she knew so much about a goblin. Feish was a font of knowledge when she wanted to be.

  “Come on.” I motioned for her and Robert to follow me as I hurried across the main floor to the stairs. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to head upstairs when some sort of phantom energy wanted me to do exactly that, but we needed to get away. Plus, we had no idea where the goblin was hiding, beyond that it was in this hotel, and it seemed likely he’d choose the most haunted floor, somewhere there’d be fewer humans. I sent Feish up first, then me, then Robert trailing behind.

  Only Robert didn’t follow up the second flight. I stopped and peeked down around the corner, hearing voices.

  A man’s low Southern drawl rumbled into my ears. “Robert, what are you doing here, old friend?”

  “Friend,” Robert growled in a way that did not for one second make me think he meant it. Who the hell could see him?

  “Well, I was your friend for a very long time. I’m surprised to see you up and about. As it were.”

  I glanced at Feish and motioned for her to be quiet and stay where she was ahead of me.

  “Going.” Robert’s voice was still growly. He didn’t like this person who had cornered him, which meant I didn’t like him either. And the fact that the guy could see Robert meant he wasn’t human. Reason enough for me to pull a knife.

  Freeing one blade, I headed back down the stairs, cursing the fact that I’d to have to walk up this section twice.

  “I realize you’re going,” the man said, “but who are you with, Robert? Who called you from the grave?” That Southern drawl didn’t sound threatening on the surface, but it was what he wasn’t saying that worried me. Who was strong enough to bring Robert forward? Who was Robert working for? Was it possible the skeleton was here to watch me for less chivalrous reasons than biting off werewolf ears and keeping me safe?

  I took the last step around the winding corner and pointed a knife at the man holding Robert. “Hey, that’s my friend you’re interrogating.”

  Robert’s swaying slowed, and his voice eased off on the growling. “Friend.” This time the word was far softer.

  The man with him was—of course—one of the councilmen who’d been with Davin. His eyes lifted to mine, deep green with a flash of silver around the edges. I hadn’t taken much note of the other suited men in the lobby, my eyes had been mostly on Davin.

  This one had sandy blond hair that was long enough to brush the tops of his shoulders, but it was slicked back. He was of a medium build, fit but not overly muscular, and a little taller than me. Not by much, though. His suit was expensive and made to fit his body, which spoke of money or power, or both. On one hand, he wore a large ruby ring that sparkled when the light caught the edges. His eyes landed on me and didn’t leave. He didn’t answer my question.

  I didn’t lower the point of my knife. “You bothering my friend?”

  He shook himself, his eyes sliding off me and dropping back to Robert. His perusal didn’t feel sexual in any way, just very interested. Like he was wondering just who the hell I was. I was wondering the same thing about him. Council member for sure. But which one, Bruce or Roderick?

  He gave a slight bow at the waist, one hand pressed to his chest in a rather old-fashioned move, especially for standing on the stairs of a haunted hotel. “I’m sorry, you caught me off guard. I’ve known Robert for years. Or I did, when he was alive,” the councilman said. Robert was suddenly moving, positioning himself between me and the councilman in a protective stance.

  “He doesn’t much seem to like you,” I pointed out, not liking how this was going. Robert’s intuition had always been spot on in the past. If he thought this guy was dangerous, so did I.

  The councilman sighed. “Robert is particular about who he likes. I wronged him once, and even though it was long before his death, it ruined our friendship. He still won’t let me forget it.” He paused and gave me a small smile. “I assume you are Celia’s granddaughter, the one who refused our summons?”

  Well, crap, so much for dealing with this situation incognito.

  6

  Standing on the stairs of the Marshall House, facing an unknown person on the council, I went for bravado, as Suzy would have done. Keeping my knife up, I flicked the tip at him. “What’s it to you?”

  The councilman’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, which was something to behold. “You are definitely her granddaughter. I’ve seen that look on her face before. Fierce.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Who are you?”

  “Roderick.” He bowed again at the waist. “And you would be Breena O’Rylee?”

  “I’m not bowing,” I said. “And I’m not coming to talk to you and your coun
cil member friends. The one I’ve dealt with is something of a dick.”

  He sighed. “They are rather pretentious.”

  “This from the guy with a cravat,” I pointed out.

  He touched the material around his neck and then laughed. “I am old, Breena, and I find I can’t quite move beyond the styles of my youth. But I suppose it would look pretentious to someone as young as you.”

  I wanted to back up and put more steps between us. Not because he felt dangerous, though—if anything, there was like zero energy flowing off him. Not even a whisper of magic. Which was ridiculous, of course. He had to be a mage of some sort to have earned a seat on the council, and not just anyone could see Robert.

  “Well, Roddy boy, lovely to meet you, but I have an appointment to keep.” I did back up then, just a single step, keeping my eyes on the council member.

  He held out a hand, flipped his wrist, and offered me a card.

  “Nope, not interested,” I said. “I’ve had more business cards offered to me from supernaturals since I got here than I care to count. You can keep it. If you need something from me, you can come to me. You know where I am. And, to be clear, I’m going to count this as meeting with your council.” I tucked the knife back into its sheath on my thigh. “And you can tell Davin that suit looks ridiculous on him. He needs one that fits his scrawny frame.”

  Roderick’s laughter followed us up the stairs. “I will pass on your message, but do not be surprised if they don’t acquiesce. You’ll see one of us soon, I’m sure.”

  I hurried, all but pushing Feish ahead of me as Robert hustled forward from behind, swaying quickly. He was managing the stairs well. Not until we reached the top floor did I pause and listen for someone following us.

  No sound of footsteps coming up the cement stairwell, no echoing of evil laughter or ghostly wails. “I don’t know how I feel about that guy,” I said.

  “Roderick is known for being fair for the most part,” Feish said softly. “He is a careful neutral on most things that go before the council. Not a bad one to have on your side.”

  “Friend,” Robert growled and shook his head hard, side to side.

  “Okay, well, let it go for now. We’re here for someone else.” I led the way out of the stairwell. Our feet sunk into the thick carpet, plush enough to keep even the loudest walkers quiet.

  Light flickered at the end of the hall, and the one bulb went out, casting a small pocket of shadow. Silvery reflections whispered through those shadows, and for just a moment, it looked like a hand was beckoning me. I blinked, and the light was on as if it were never off and there were no silvery reflections.

  “Okay.” I blinked again but the light remained on. “Feish, did you see the light go out?”

  She turned and tapped me on the head. “Your eyes getting old? The light never went out.”

  I pursed my lips. “Robert? Did you see that?”

  “Ghost,” he muttered at my side. Well, good, at least I wasn’t losing it.

  I found my feet wanting to go toward the spot that had called to me.

  No. I had to find that goblin and get us another job.

  But how?

  I knew from Gran’s book that his kind had exceptional hearing. Beyond that, I didn’t have much of a plan.

  “Goblin!” I yelled into the hallway, making Feish and even Robert jump. “We hear you need help?”

  A door at the far end of the hallway creaked open, right under where the light had gone out in no small coincidence, and a creature with a tiny face and oversized bat ears peered out of a room. “Who you be?”

  “Breena O’Rylee,” I said. “Celia’s granddaughter. Do you need our help?”

  He made a flapping motion with his hands, hurrying us forward. Rather than run—no thanks after those stairs—I picked up a quick pace that had me at the end of the hall in no time. Feish kept up easily, and Robert, as usual, trailed behind.

  Up close, the goblin’s skin was a deep brown speckled with lighter brown spots, like a natural camouflage. Out in the bush, he’d be hard to spot. Which begged the question, why the hell was he hiding in the city? He stood out like a sore thumb. I narrowed my eyes and tried to see him as a human would. A petite man, barely five feet tall with flawless dark brown skin and big dark eyes stared back at me, the softness to his features making him downright pretty. That was the fae for you—vanity was the name of the game.

  Even his disguise would stand out in a crowd.

  “You really her?” he whispered.

  “Jinx said you were looking for help. That’s what we do. We help people,” I said.

  “For money.”

  I spread my hands wide. “I’m not a charity. And to be clear, you asked for my help, didn’t you?”

  He blinked. “Don’t you want to help people just for the sake of it? Like your gran would?”

  I smiled and leaned in close. “No.”

  Now that wasn’t entirely true, but I wasn’t about to offer up our services for free. That was how you got taken advantage of. And I had no doubt this little goblin had money for payment. They were known hoarders of coin.

  “Should I leave?” I asked.

  “I could wait for the Hollows to help me. They would help for . . .” The goblin kept his voice low, so as not to attract attention, but he still hadn’t invited us into his room. “Well, not free, but not a lot. They be cheap.”

  I wasn’t sure about cheap, but I wondered if they’d be willing or even able to help him.

  “You could.” Feish tapped her chin. “But we would tell them you turned down help from Breena, and then they would say you’re a waste of time. You have a little problem.” She pinched two webbed fingers together, and my juvenile mind thought for a minute she was referencing something other than his current problem. “Nothing important enough for the Hollows to deal with, in my opinion.”

  The goblin grumbled a series of curse words under his breath and opened the door to invite us in. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, I was assaulted by a smell that was nothing short of the worst locker room smell I’d ever encountered. As if the stink had been roasting in the heat for a few weeks.

  “Bums and feet,” I muttered, not sure if I should plug my nose and risk tasting the smell on the back of my tongue. The thought made me gag, and it took all my fortitude to shake off the urge.

  “This is awful,” Feish mumbled, her hand over her fish lips. I didn’t blame her, not one bit.

  The goblin didn’t even notice us gagging on his stench. “Look, I have a family heirloom and someone is trying to steal it.” He dug around in a pile of dirty clothes to pull out a packet of pages. Written on something far thicker than modern paper, more like what I would think papyrus would feel like. I ran my fingers over it, the pages almost greasy under my touch. “It’s a family tree of sorts that establishes my lineage and the timeline of when my family settled in these parts. All in Goblinese so don’t bother trying to read it. I don’t want to lose my land, and these give me rights.”

  He held up the pages, bound with a couple of thick elastics, to his chest for a moment, then tucked them into a yellow manila envelope, then finally laid them on top of what might have been a table. It was hard to tell for sure, what with all the wrappers and containers from fast food joints that covered it. I saw some green moldy bits in more than one container, which partially explained the stench. Was he trying to stink out any possible intruders? I couldn’t keep my nose from wrinkling.

  “So you want us to find the person who wants to steal these pages of yours?” I asked, working to speak around the heavy smells in the room. Gawd in heaven, this was bad. I was suddenly wishing I hadn’t eaten those greasy hush puppies. My stomach rolled, threatening to revolt at the mere thought of grease.

  I had to work to keep it all in and focus on him at the same time.

  He shook his head, bat ears flapping. “No. I want you to hide them for me. Then guard them. I don’t know why they want them—I just know they can’t have them
. Okay?” He clasped his hands together over and over, flexing overly long fingers that reminded me of Jinx’s hairy legs, minus the hair. I could easily imagine his joints bending backward. I shook off the thought as it was so not helping me in the stomach-clenching department.

  “Okay, so we hide the family lineage. Keep an eye on them, and then what?”

  “That’s it. Keep them safe,” he whispered. “Three more days of keeping them safe, then that’s it.”

  “Three days? That’s it? What happens in three days?” I asked, but as I finished speaking, I got a very sudden weird vibe. I did a slow turn and lowered my voice. “Someone is at the door.”

  I could almost feel an energy outside there, one that was way too dark even for a ghost, and I had the sudden thought that the entity from the Sorrel-Weed house had somehow followed us here. Of course, that wasn’t the case, but it was my knee-jerk reaction.

  The goblin shoved the yellow envelope into my hands and pushed me toward the back of the room. “Go out the window. Down the fire escape,” he whispered. “Hurry! Three days, keep them safe for three days.”

  A thump against the door rattled the entire frame. “Grimm!” The booming voice shocked the shit out of me. I stuffed the envelope under my shirt and wrenched the window open. I shoved Feish and Robert out first, then turned and faced Grimm.

  “Sign something that I’ll get paid. Now. Or I’ll leave the whole package here for you and your friends.” I reached for the table and grabbed a napkin that was only slightly smeared with food. I dug in my bag for a pen as someone hammered on the door.

  “Go!” Grimm hissed at me.

  But I’d learned my lesson from Crash’s ex, Karissa, screwing me over. No matter who was on the other side of the door, not getting a fae—even a minor one—to sign that they would pay you for services rendered was dumb. I’d done it once. I wouldn’t do it again.

  I shoved the pen and napkin at him. “Sign it now saying that you owe me.”

  Baring his teeth, he snatched napkin and pen and signed a quick I.O.U with his name at the bottom. I took them both and hurried toward the window.