Earthbound Wings: An Earthbound Novel (The Psychic Seasons Series Book 6)
Page 16
“Malachiel. I found one of his wing feathers in the alley.”
“You think he provided the transportation?” I heard voices in the background, which meant Zack had to choose his words carefully.
“It’s possible. Sylvie swears it wasn’t him, but she never saw the face of her attacker. All she saw was the knife, which, from her description, sounds like an athame with a sigil carved into the blade.”
A door closed and the background sounds quieted. Even so, Zack lowered his voice so no one would overhear, “I can’t get a warrant on a fallen angel, and even if Wallace left campus his alibi will hold because there just wasn’t enough time. He’s going to get away with murder.”
The growl in his voice indicated how frustrated Zack felt. It wasn’t even his case, but getting justice for Sylvie mattered enough that he would spend his free time working the case and feeding information to the investigating team if he thought it would catch her killer.
“There is another way.”
A noise in the room pulled my attention. Leith stood, framed in the bedroom doorway, wearing nothing but the pants I had refused to pull off him when we rolled him onto the bed. His eyes still held the slightly confused look of someone just awakened from a deep sleep. My focus kept wanting to be pulled to the spot where the top button of his pants gaped open.
“Adriel, are you there? Care to elaborate on that cryptic statement?”
“Sorry Zack,” I shook my head, but my eyes remained riveted to the man posed so casually in the doorway. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the story of Scrooge.”
Dead silence transmitted over the phone for a moment and then I heard Zack laugh. “I’ll admit it has possibilities. You won’t get into trouble with the Powers again, will you?”
“Who do you think gave Dickens the idea for the story in the first place? I’ll put something together today and let you know how it goes.” Leith’s intent gaze messed up my ability to put two sentences together. He had missed the end of yesterday’s escapade and deserved to hear how it ended.
“Good morning,” I said once I had clicked to end the call from Zack. “Did you sleep well?” I know it sounded inane. Nothing better came to mind. “There’s coffee, and I could cook some eggs. It’s bad coffee. The worst, really. You won’t want that. Tea? It’s Amethyst’s place, I’m sure there’s tea. Tons of it, probably.” I’m an angel; you’d think I would have the power over my own tongue, for criminy’s sake. You’d be wrong.
“Bad coffee is better than good tea.” Finally Leith spoke. His voice sounded as rough as the stubble that spread over his chin. It did things to my insides that didn’t slow the flow of words. I jumped up to pour him a cup. To my horror, he followed me into the kitchenette in his bare feet. Well, and his bare torso. Too much of him was bare, actually.
“Cream and sugar? Or do you take it black?” The man had the ability to rattle me just with his proximity, and the galley kitchen was a small space. Brushing past him to open the cabinet door was an exercise in nearly full body contact. I felt my face flame hot when he made no effort to give me even an inch of personal space.
“How did I get here? You didn’t…”
“We used your cape to make a stretcher and carried you out. You know I can’t shift between places anymore.” Yet. I added to myself.
Leith gave me a strange look—half raised eyebrows, half frown—and before I could ask what it meant, nudged me gently aside, started pulling things out of the refrigerator, and changed the subject.
“Fill me in.” He moved around the kitchen like he owned the place. The bad coffee went swirling down the drain, and with an economy of effort he had the smell of dark nectar wafting through the house. His prowess with the beastly machine I found annoying for no good reason I can name. Maybe that’s why I didn’t pull the punch when I blurted out the truth.
“The demon wasn’t really one of the darkspawn. It was Vaeta, an elemental faerie. Sister to the other three.”
A short pause was all that marked the surprise he must have felt. That and the sharp crack of a pair of eggs on the countertop. They hit the sizzling butter and were quickly joined by two more before Leith spoke again.
“That puts a whole new spin on things, don’t you think?”
It was a test. I hate tests. What did he see that I hadn’t? To buy a little time, I rummaged through the cabinets for the biggest mug I could find and filled it slowly. Cream and sugar killed another few seconds, and then I took a seat at the table.
Everything that had happened over the past few days spun through my mind like an old super eight film reel running at double speed. Meeting Leith, the faeries, Sylvie, Cassandra, Saving Julius—all of it looked different under the filter of hindsight. Good grief, the man was right. The whole thing reeked of hinky.
If Vaeta had never meant to harm us, then everything that had happened in the nexus had been a lie. An elaborately wrought farce meant to fool…well, that was the ultimate question, wasn’t it?
As though I had actually spoken the question out loud, Leith answered, “All of us, to some extent or another, were played for fools.” Tension knotted the muscles across his bare shoulders. “You know what this means?”
We spoke together, “This isn’t over.” I could have told him that before, but until I knew for sure which of our group had been the players and which the playees, the Fulcrum cards would be played close to the vest. I can admit, though, that it would have been nice to be able to talk about it to someone.
A plate of eggs and toast landed in front of me, and as delicious as they looked and smelled my appetite was gone. When I made no move to eat, Leith tucked a fork into my hand and said, “Don’t waste time on brooding. There’s nothing we can do about it now, and I want to hear about your plans for putting young Sylvie’s killer behind bars. If you’ll let me, I’ll help you see her safe. Can I play the ghost of Christmas past?”
His hand lingered on mine a little longer than was necessary, and I didn’t pull away. Instead, I met his mischievous smile with one of my own. Did I trust him? Not totally. But I knew that some of the things I had seen in that nexus were true. He was committed to his mission—as willing to lay down his life as quickly as I would put my own on the line.
And if I was wrong, and he had found a way to fool me—well, you know what they say about keeping your enemies close.
***
Sylvie chose a white horse as her means for getting to the other side. Her crossing was something of an anti-climax compared to everything else that had happened that week. I watched her go with a healthy dose of crow in my mouth. Yeah, you heard me. Dante wasn’t the guy.
Leith and I had staged an elaborate bit of theater to pull a confession out of him—theater that bombed harder than the Broadway version of Carrie. Leith barely had time to put on his scariest face when Dante blabbed everything he knew.
His had been the voice Sylvie had heard begging her not to die and cursing his tardy arrival. Malachiel hadn’t taken Dante to the alley to kill Sylvie, but to save her. Or that’s how Dante saw it. Leith and I agreed that that whole thing smelled strongly of a frame job.
No arrest would be made due of lack of evidence. Dante was convinced that Malachiel had only been trying to help. A pile of black feathers would never convict a fallen angel, and even if it did no mortal prison would have contained him. Dante’s alibi held, and Zack was the only police officer who ever learned the real truth.
Satisfied that her lover had been exonerated, Sylvie mounted her white horse, waved goodbye, and faded into the sunset while I wondered how the Powers would classify this assignment. Adding her crossing to the balance sheet might put me over into the plus side, but not by much.
Still, I smiled as she went into the light and rested one hand on the strap of my backpack, hoping that wherever I landed next, I would be a little more prepared.
Epilogue
I am Leith.
The only thing I know for sure is that I was named for Lethe, the Gr
eek spirit of blessed oblivion. Forgetfulness.
Ironic that.
Why? Because I have no memory of my parents, of growing up, of anything that happened before.
Before is a blank slate.
After is a vivid nightmare in blood-washed clarity. Of ghouls and red-eyed demons. Of gentle souls and light.
But not for me.
Never for me.
***
If you are enjoying the Psychic Seasons series, I’m excited to tell you about the Fate Weaver series. In Earthbound Wings, we met Lexi Balefire and her faerie godmothers who were such fun to write, we decided to give Lexi her own series.
Lexi Balefire is a matchmaking witch with a certain something extra. Her story is full of magic, romance, and intrigue.
The Fate Weaver series:
A Match Made in Spell
All Spell is Breaking Loose
To Spell and Back
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Other books by ReGina Welling
The Psychic Seasons Series
Rings on Her Fingers
Bells on Her Toes
She Shall Have Music
Wherever She goes
Earthbound Bones
Earthbound Wings
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Also by ReGina Welling and Erin Lynn
The Ponderosa Pines Mysteries
Cat Killed A Rat
Crafting Disorder
Caught in the Frame
Bait and Snitch