I shook my head. “No spell, Alan. Can you see yourself in the mirror over the dresser there?” I pointed at the piece of furniture. Alan stayed put.
“I don’t want to see myself.”
“Because?” I wasn’t sure how this was going to go, counseling my now-dead ex-husband into realizing that he was indeed dead.
Crash sighed. “He can’t see through the glamor I put on to keep people at bay. People, not spirits. Which means he hasn’t accepted his current situation. Until he does, he’s going to be stuck here.”
I looked over my shoulder at Crash, thinking if I just squinted my eyes, I’d see what it was he made others see, then decided not to. I liked him as he really was. “Can’t I just tell him?”
“No good. He’ll only hear what he wants to,” he said quietly. “And because you and I can see him, what do you want to bet that he’s not leaving anytime soon?”
I bowed my head and covered my eyes as I started to laugh. The hysterical, this can’t be happening to me kind of laughter. It took me a minute to pull myself together. “Okay, okay. Alan, you can stay here until we figure this out.”
He crunched in on himself, hunching his shoulders. “I don’t want to see you with anyone else.”
“Tough shit, I’m dating three men right now,” I snapped, wanting desperately to bring Alan back to life, just so I could kill him myself.
“Three?” Crash gave me a look, and I winked at him.
“Robert counts, doesn’t he?”
Crash rolled his eyes, but there was humor in it. “Right, for some reason I always forget Robert.”
As if on cue, Robert scuttled up the stairs, swaying and bobbing with each step. “Friend.”
Alan peered around me to look at Robert. “What is that?”
“Who,” I corrected him. “That’s Robert. Don’t piss him off, he bites.”
Robert stepped closer and tapped a skeletal finger on the yellow envelope that held all the information on Gran and my parents. Damn it. “I’ll get to it, Robert, I promise.”
“I’ll just stay here,” Alan said, slumping down to sit under the window, the gaping wound in his neck almost not noticeable. You could believe he was alive if you didn’t know better.
“Don’t leave my room.” I turned my back on him and left. “Gran, I could seriously use some help here!” I shouted into the house only to get a flicker of her form across from me, in front of her room. There and gone.
“He can stay for now,” she called out. “But tell him to stay in your room. I don’t like him.”
“Nobody likes him,” I muttered, then shouted, “Don’t come out of my room, Alan!”
I headed down the stairs, the envelope under my arm, and my bag bouncing on my hip. I opened it and stuffed the envelope inside, then checked to make sure I still had both knives, Gran’s spell book, and Grimm’s stuff.
Speaking of . . . I needed a place to stash Grimm’s stuff, so it wasn’t on me in case I got taken by the goblins. Because yes, despite the fact that obviously this job was far more dangerous than I had originally thought, I intended to see it through. But I also needed a hiding place that was not in the house.
A place where no one would ever think to look.
“You know, this is all happening because of the O’Seans and Hattie.” Crash pulled me from my thoughts as we went through the kitchen to the back door of the house. He held it open for me and I stepped into the bright sunshine of a Savannah day. The smells of growing things and pollen were heavy on the air, and I was glad I didn’t suffer from hay fever.
“What do you mean?” I asked. What connection had I missed?
“Whatever job you are on now,” he said. “The people who hired you probably knew the job would take you up against someone they didn’t like—and knowing your reputation, they’re assuming you’ll fight hard. Maybe even kill the person coming at you.”
Oh, so he didn’t think they were actually connected. I scrunched my face. “My reputation?”
“There are whispers that you’re known as one who kills first and asks questions later,” he said. “Not a bad rep to have in the shadow world, but in this case, it might have worked against you.” He took my hand, lifted it to his mouth, and turned it over so he could kiss the underside of my wrist. He opened his mouth just enough that the tip of his tongue laved that sensitive spot, reminding where his tongue had been not that long ago, which sent another rush of fire coursing through me. “Let me know if you need me. And try to stay out of trouble.” He paused. “And stay away from any goblins.”
“I’m—”
He held up his hands, stopping me. “I know, the job isn’t with a goblin, but be careful. If they are out and about . . . they are trouble. Okay?”
“I’m not promising anything.” The defiant words slipped out of me, and he let out a growl that made me shiver and my fingers itch to tangle their way back into his hair. “But in this case, I’ll mosey off by myself.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Robert would be with me. “Come on, Robert. We can go on another date. Then I’m not all by myself as per our agreement to not go out alone.”
Robert swayed around the side of the house, making his way to my side.
Crash’s laughter followed us as we left the yard. I took note that the Sorrel-Weed house was exceptionally quiet. Good. I didn’t want anything to do with Matilda’s monstrous boyfriend. I shivered and picked up my pace. Robert kept next to me easily.
“We need to find a hiding place where nobody would think to look,” I said, considering my options. There weren’t many, off the top of my head. We could try burying the stuff like we’d buried the fake fairy cross, but I doubted that would work again.
Who could help me think of a place? Only one person came to mind. I swung back around the side of the house and found my feet heading to the front door.
I let myself in and stood in the entry way and called up the stairs. “Gran, I need to ask you a question.”
“Quiet, I’m trying to sleep!” Alan shouted from my room. Duck me, that man was going to make me pull my hair out!
I snapped my fingers multiple times, hoping it worked at a distance.
A sigh rippled through the air. Gran appeared at the top of the stairs, her image wavering. She seemed thinner than before. Could ghosts lose weight? “What do you need?” she asked, her voice faint.
Her eyes locked on me, and I found myself fidgeting with the bag on my hip. “I need to hide . . . something for a job.” Why wasn’t I just telling her that it was the goblin’s stuff? No idea, but I found my mouth unable to speak. “But I need to be able to keep an eye on it. In case someone comes for it. I don’t want to leave it here in the house, I feel like that’s just asking for another kick in the ass. Same thing with keeping it on me. If someone’s really coming after me, then I can’t have the stuff on me.”
Another sigh and she flickered to life at the top of the stairs, just a quick image of her in one of her old-school dresses. There and gone. “The Sorrel-Weed house. Hide it in the room that Matilda haunts. You can put whatever it is in the desk.”
Bile rose up my throat. “Yeah, but I’d have to go into the house then. I don’t want to go in that house.” Sure, I sounded like I was ten years old again, so sue me. That place freaked me right out of my big girl panties.
“Yes.” Her words were soft and sorrowful, which cut right through me. “Yes, but whatever it is that you hide would be safe there. The darkness would keep any goblin out—they’re afraid of it.”
Safe.
I wasn’t sure that safe was a word I’d put together with the Sorrel-Weed house, but darkness, I’d agree with that. “You sure? I mean, you don’t have another suggestion?”
Please, please, please, please.
Gran didn’t answer and didn’t even attempt to reappear. I sighed. “Okay, thanks, Gran. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”
A whispered “love you too” floated back and I smiled as I turned and left the house again.
&
nbsp; “I hate you!” Alan shouted.
“DITTO!” I roared back and slammed the door behind me.
14
I sighed as I let myself out of the house and down the steps. Gran’s suggestion that I hide Grimm’s stuff in the Sorrel-Weed house next door made my skin try to crawl right off my body and run down the street. As plans went, it was a logical one: goblins did hate the dark, and the Sorrel-Weed house was about as dark as they came. But I hated that I was going to have to go into the house that terrified me so.
Robert waited for me on the stone path that led to the gate, swaying side to side. So lost in my own self-pity and fear, I didn’t see Charlotte, our neighbor’s daughter, until she shouted to me from across the street.
“Hi! Breena. I said hi twice, didn’t you hear me?”
Her call startled me, and I turned to see her waving from the top step of their house. “I’m going to New Orleans with my auntie and uncle now!” Her smile was missing just one tooth which made her all the more cuter. She was a sweetheart and seeing her always made me wish for things that would never be.
I waved back, forcing a smile to my cold lips. “Did you get cookies from Eric yesterday?”
“Yes, he sent me off with bags of them. See you in a few weeks, I hope.” She hurried down the steps, ponytail bobbing, and I watched as she slid into the backseat of a dark blue SUV.
They pulled away from the curb, and she waved at me as she went by, both hands going as hard as she could. I grinned and waved both hands back at her. “Nice kid.”
Swaying beside me, Robert lifted a hand and pointed at the small figure tucked into the side of the brick house that Charlotte and her mom lived in. The shape reminded me strongly of Grimm. Was it another goblin? Maybe one that could help?
“Good call, Robert,” I whispered. And checking out the goblin gave us an excellent reason for not going straight to the Sorrel-Weed house.
Of course, I was procrastinating—who wouldn’t when the task they’d assigned themselves was to enter a house of ghostly darkness that was freaky as hell? Besides, it was important to deal with the goblin situation head on. Suzy and I had been inseparable prior to her powwow with Eric yesterday, and there was no doubt in my mind that she’d been triggered in an attempt to take me out.
I hurried out of our yard and across the street toward our goblin neighbor. “Hi, have you lived here long? Bridgette, right?” Wasn’t that what Charlotte had said her ghost was named?
The goblin startled and pinned herself against the wall, blending almost perfectly with the bricks. “You can see me?”
“Why do people keep asking me that?” I muttered.
“Well, it’s not usual to be able to see goblins when we are trying to stay hidden.” She ran long spindly fingers through her short shorn black hair as if she could tuck it behind her larger than life ears. Interesting that she was flying so far under the radar that Charlotte thought they had a ghost, but Grimm had been staying in a hotel. Maybe he hadn’t been trying to hide as much as Bridgette? “But . . . yes, I’ve been here a few years. Just over ten.”
I stepped a little closer and she gave me some side-eye. “Do goblins live in the city often?”
Her shoulders slumped. “No, I was removed from the hive. I didn’t conform well.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Didn’t like getting told what to do?”
She tipped her face and gave me that side-eye again. “Maybe.”
I crouched, then gave up and lowered my butt to the ground so I could lean against the brick front of the house. “My name is—”
“Breena O’Rylee. I know. I’m Bridgette.” She held out a hand and I shook it. “The shadow world here in Savannah is all in a twist because of what you’ve done the last few weeks. Like you woke everyone up to the badness that’s still out there. Reminded them it’s not all cookies and ice cream.”
I blinked a few times. “I’m trying to help.”
“I know. Most of us do.” She smoothed her long fingers over her clothing. The cloth shifted color depending on where she stood, giving her an even better camouflage. Cool. I’d have to ask Gerry if she had that kind of material for a second set of work clothes for me.
I thought about asking Bridgette to read Grimm’s pages, but I didn’t know her well enough. But I could ask her about goblins in general and maybe get a read on whether Grimm was on the up and up. “Are there many disputes between goblins about family heirlooms and such?”
“Oh, shit, all the time.” She sat in front of me, crossing her legs under her. “It’s a pecking order, so someone is always trying to move up the ladder to the top. Mostly with the men, but it happens with the women, too, from time to time.”
Interesting. So that part of Grimm’s story checked out. “In the past, did goblins have much to do with—” I paused and whispered the word, “—vampires?”
Her eyes went wide enough that it was all I could see when I looked at her face. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” There might not be a connection, but a lot of things had started happening at once, and I had to chase all the angles. Plus, if there was a vampire at the Marshall House, it could have had something to do with Grimm, or the council members’ interest in him.
My thoughts shot straight to the no-face council member, Bruce. Yeah, he was my first pick for secret vampire. That guy gave me the damn heebie-jeebies.
She shook her head. “No one has anything to do with the fanged ones. They nearly wiped out Savannah, you know. The goblins were as against them as everyone else. You could ask the court bard if you ever meet him, he knows all the stories.”
I nodded. I did know, now, that the yellow fever plague hadn’t been a disease at all, but an influx of new vampires that had killed off humans and supernaturals alike. The problem had been squashed by the rest of the shadow world, but not before many lives were lost. So why the hell would anyone want a redo?
Tapping my bag, I debated showing her the coin and, in the end, pulled it out. “Any idea why this might be important . . .”
She pulled back from it. “The stamp is that of the royal line. How did you get it?”
Well, that confirmed what Eric had told me at any rate.
“I can’t tell you,” I said. “Is it dangerous to have one?”
Bridgette put her hand out and waved it over the coin in my palm. “Dangerous? I don’t know about that. But they are . . . they aren’t just coins.” Her eyes lifted to mine. “It’s made with a specific type of magic, Breena O’Rylee. One that can be malleable. Unseelie magic flows through this coin. I can’t tell you anything more than that.” She shrugged and tucked her hands into her armpits.
I put the silver coin back into my bag.
“Thank you. I don’t know if what you’ve told me will help, but I appreciate it.” I paused, thinking about the timetable Grimm had given me for hiding the pages. “Is there something special happening in the next day or two? Like a goblin event?”
She blinked a few times. “Tomorrow night is the call of the silver moon.”
Silver moon. Where the hell had I heard that lately? I frowned. “So it’s a big deal?”
“Yes, it’s a big deal especially to the king. A new king can only be crowned on the night of the silver moon. It only comes once in a generation.” She tipped her head to one side. “What are you thinking?”
I didn’t know exactly what I was thinking, but at least I knew this was almost over. Tomorrow would be day three, and my commitment would be at an end. “Do you think this coin can be tracked with magic?”
Because the council members, along with their goblin guide, had easily found Grimm, not that he’d put much effort into hiding. They hadn’t shown up at the house last night or this morning, but then again, they likely knew we were all on high alert after the attack yesterday.
They clearly knew it hadn’t worked; otherwise they’d have come along to pluck the coin. Which should probably have made me wary of the goblin that lived across the street and could poten
tially be a spy, but my intuition told me Bridgette wasn’t one of them. With the remarkable exception of Alan, it hadn’t let me down yet.
She blinked a few times. “Magic could possibly trace it.”
Possibly. But it could just as easily be the pages that Grimm gave me, seeing as they were all in Goblinese, there was no way to know exactly what was on them, and I just didn’t know Bridgette well enough to ask. My gut feeling was to stash them both away and play it safe in that regards. Because the reality was, if it could be used to find me, then I couldn’t keep carrying it around in my purse. Damn it, Gran was right about putting it in the Sorrel-Weed house, much as I’d been hoping she’d be wrong. “One more question, are goblins really afraid of the dark?”
Again, she tipped her head. It struck me that she was probably surprised I’d essentially asked her about one of her own weaknesses, but she didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes. But more the darkest dark. Our greatest fear is the darkness of demons and devils.” She shuddered and rubbed her arms.
I reached over and touched her shoulder. “Let me know if you ever get lonely. We have big meals at my gran’s place, and it’s kind of loud, but—”
“I’d love to,” she said in an undertone, casting a glance at the house, “but are you sure the fae king wouldn’t mind? He doesn’t like goblins.”
Now that was interesting, and it seemed to fit with what Crash had told me earlier. “He doesn’t?”
She shook her head. “No. In fact, he really, really doesn’t like us.”
“Well, it’s not just his house. So come on by, maybe this weekend.”
She grinned, showing off blunt teeth. “Thank you, Breena O’Rylee.”
I gave her a wink, pulled myself up off the ground with only a small groan, and headed back across the street. Robert stepped in beside me once I was on our side.
“Robert, that was a good call. She’s a nice goblin.”
“Friend,” he said.
I offered my fist up to him for a knuckle bump, and he slowly raised his own hand, clenching his skeletal fingers into a fist and gently bumping them against mine. “Boom, we make a good team.”
Midlife Demon Hunter: The Forty Proof Series, Book 3 Page 12