by Jane Kindred
“Di, it’s me.”
Ione sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Phoebe?” She yawned uncontrollably. “Did you find something?”
“I did, indeed. And Theia’s found something, as well. You should come over and have brunch so we can go over it.”
“I’m kind of waiting for an important call. Can’t you just give me the highlights over the phone?”
“Sure, you want highlights? Dad had a second family that he hid from Mom for fifteen years. How does that grab you?”
The phone slipped out of Ione’s hand and hit the floor.
Chapter 13
She had to get down on the carpet and halfway under the bed to get the phone back. How the hell did the thing manage to get so far on its own?
“Ione? Are you still there?” Phoebe’s muffled voice grew clearer as Ione fished the phone out.
“I’m here.” Ione sat on the edge of the bed. “What on earth are you talking about? What second family? And why are you researching our family instead of following up on Lorelei Car...lisle.”
“Exactly. I drove down to the address in Glendale that Carter’s visitor provided when she signed in at the prison. It turned out to be the address of one deceased octogenarian of the same name. I found her shade hanging around—she’s one of those that hasn’t realized she’s dead and isn’t bothered by it—and I managed to talk with her. She spoke of ‘that nice girl who used to bring her groceries,’ and I eventually got a name out of her. Laurel Carpenter.”
Ione’s foot jiggled against the bed frame as she tried to be patient. “So she borrowed her dead neighbor’s name because it was similar. What does this have to do with our family?”
“That’s where Theia comes in. The shade thought Laurel had moved home to Flagstaff to work for Animal Control, so I called Theia to ask her if she knew anyone through her veterinary connections there who could find out about her. She knew, all right. Back when Theia was researching the Lilith connection, she’d found another Peter Carlisle on the genealogy site with the same dates of birth and death as Dad, but he was connected to a different wife and kids—Peggy Carlisle and three daughters, Rosemary, Rowan...and Laurel.”
“So? That could just be a coincidence.”
“That’s what Theia thought at first. But after we’d confirmed her Lilith hypothesis by combining our energy, she’d gone back to the genealogy database and dug around a little further. There was no question about it. Peter Carlisle, husband of Renée, was also Peter Carlisle, husband of Peggy.”
Ione ran her fingers through her sleep-mussed hair. “So what are you saying? Dad was married before?”
“No, I’m saying he was married during. Dad was a bigamist.”
Ione’s fingers caught in her hair. “That’s not possible. I would have known.”
Phoebe made a scoffing sound. “Exactly how would you have known when the rest of us didn’t?”
“I’m older. I would have seen something odd going on. You don’t just have two completely different sets of wives and kids without anyone noticing. Besides, if she was actually married to him—legally or not—why wouldn’t she have made a claim on his money when he died?” As soon as she said it, Ione’s stomach sank. The will had been contested. By an anonymous party. But the claim had been dismissed by her lawyer as invalid.
“Apparently, Peggy Carlisle died fifteen years ago,” Phoebe explained. “While Dad was still alive. The kids ended up in foster care. After Theia confirmed all of this, she didn’t know how to tell us, so she kept it to herself. Didn’t even tell Rhe. When I told her the name, she just knew. And my sources have confirmed the same. Laurel Carpenter, an employee at Flagstaff Animal Control, is the current legal name of the youngest daughter of Peter and Peggy Carlisle.”
Ione couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “She’s our sister? Our sister is Nemesis?”
“Well, we don’t know for sure that she’s Nemesis.”
“But she’s been visiting Carter in prison. You’re absolutely certain.”
“I ran her prints and found her picture in the DMV database. It’s the same woman who’s calling herself Lorelei Carlisle.”
“But why? Why would she be involved with Carter? Does she know she’s our sister?”
“No way to find that out except talk to her. Which I’m planning to do later today.”
* * *
It was too much to comprehend. Ione tried to put it out of her mind as she checked compulsively for a message from the Conclave. Still nothing...though Dev had texted her a half dozen more times. He was becoming insufferable. Ione went to delete his latest message and instead ended up clicking on Dev’s phone number and automatically dialing. Before she could hang up, he answered.
“Ione.” His voice was warm, and even over the phone it seemed to buzz through her with that peculiar vibration that went right to her core. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just...” She might as well not let on that it was an accident. “I just figured you weren’t going to stop ‘officially’ texting me.”
Dev chuckled against the mike—more vibrations. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I really want to find a way to make this right.”
“There’s nothing to make right, Dev. You chose duty and loyalty to the Covent over me. Which is perfectly understandable. You hardly know me. Why risk your own standing in the Covent for someone you don’t even know?”
Dev was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think that’s fair. Fairly represented, I mean. It’s perfectly fair of you to feel that way, of course. But it wasn’t a matter of choosing the Covent over you. It was simply choosing to do what I thought was the right thing regardless of how I felt about you. And I do know you,” he added before she could interrupt, his voice dropping into that warm, lower register that danced along her skin as if the current between them had traveled through the airwaves, bouncing off cell towers and satellites to alight on her flesh. “I believe I know you as no one has ever known you before. Just as I believe you know me. You can’t imagine intimacy has been easy for me with Kur to worry about. I don’t make a habit of fornicating with strangers in car parks.”
Ione had felt her resolve melting as the sound of his voice caressed her, but she was suddenly bristling. “How charmingly put, Mr. Gideon.”
“Oh, Lord. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“Didn’t you?”
“I meant that my attraction to you is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.” Dev made a soft groan of dismay into the phone. “Can we go back thirty seconds?”
“The thing is,” said Ione, “I do make a habit of it. Not usually in parking lots, but that wasn’t the first time I hooked up with someone at a bar knowing I’d never have to see them again. You were nothing out of the ordinary.” The quiet that followed said more than words. “And since our values are clearly so different—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, stop it.”
Ione glared at the phone. “I beg your pardon?”
“Stop pretending that I’m shocked at the idea of a woman picking up a man in a bar in the twenty-first century. You seem to have this peculiar need to set yourself up as this fallen woman or something so that I can play the villain.”
“I’m not doing anything of the—”
“What I was trying to say is that I’m not afraid of being judged by you for who I am—and that is a first in my experience. Just as I am not judging you. Or labeling you. Or anything else. What I am doing is asking you to give me another chance. To give us another chance.”
Ione laughed to cover her conflicting emotions. “A chance at what? All we did was sleep together twice.”
“Was that really all it was to you?”
“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you judging me from here.”
Dev let out a frustrated growling sigh that Ione
tried to pretend didn’t make her squirm in her seat. “You’re being deliberately obtuse. Can I take back my declaration from the other night that I didn’t inform the Council out of spite? Let’s just say it was spite. You said you could forgive spite, so...it was spite. Forgive me?”
The squirming was forgotten. “Well, since you’ve asked so nicely...” She ended the call and tossed the phone aside.
Chapter 14
Dev stared at the phone in his hand. Perhaps that last little gambit had been ill-conceived. Ione Carlisle was maddening.
Might as well get on with the job he’d been sent to do. He had interviews to finish with the members of the coven. Regardless of whatever action the Conclave decided to take about Ione’s sins of omission, Dev was tasked with determining whether the high priestess had been at fault in allowing the incident with the necromancer to, well, necrotize within the coven. He couldn’t allow his personal feelings for Ione to color that. Especially now that the Conclave was involved. He was walking on very thin ice. If he showed her any favoritism, the Conclave might start taking a closer look at Dev, too. And that, he couldn’t afford.
The soft sound of chimes tinkling over the entryway to the temple announced the arrival of his next appointment. He glanced at his notes. Margot Kelley, the young witch he’d been about to interview when the first volley had been lobbed by Nemesis on Saturday. Dev rose from the desk in the office and went out to greet her.
“Miss Kelley.” He extended his hand as they met before the altar. “Thank you for taking time out of your schedule to come by. I apologize for the unpleasantness that occurred the last time you were here.”
Margot seemed to size him up with curiosity. “You didn’t put that thing out there.” She paused. “Did you?”
Dev blanched. “Certainly not. I just meant...it was unfortunate, and it happened under my watch. So for that, I apologize.” He seemed to be doing a lot of that today, come to think of it. “Would you like to sit down in the office or would you prefer to talk here?”
“Here’s fine.” Margot took a seat in the front row.
“Let me get you some water.” Dev retreated to the back and returned with a bottle for each of them, along with his notes, then sat beside her at a respectful distance, turning his body diagonally to face her.
But before he could pose his first question, Margot launched into her own testimony. “Like I told you before, we all stand behind Ione. She had absolutely nothing to do with Carter Hamilton’s actions—and, frankly, I would think you people ought to be apologizing to her for letting him weasel his way in here.”
Dev frowned and paused in opening the cap on his water. “You people?”
“All of you Covent bigwigs. Didn’t he come up in the ranks in the Phoenix branch? Who let him get so much power without any oversight? He was a member of the Regional Conclave. Ione trusted him because you folks told her to trust him. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
Dev took a gulp of water to hide his smile. She was a good person to have on one’s side.
“I’ll certainly take that into consideration. What I wanted to determine, however, was whether, to your knowledge, Miss—Ms. Carlisle was ever a party to any of Carter Hamilton’s unauthorized rituals.”
Margot’s eyebrows drew together in irritation. “Didn’t I just say you all sent him here and she trusted him because of his standing with the Covent? Where do you get, ‘Oh, and while she was practicing the Great Rite with a necromancer between sabbats, she sacrificed a few goats on the altar, and the occasional baby’ out of that?”
Dev choked on his water and nearly did a spit-take. “No one is suggesting that level of impropriety—”
“Well, what are you suggesting?”
“Not suggesting anything at all. I just want to confirm, for my report, that you personally never witnessed the high priestess engaging in any unauthorized magic with Carter Hamilton.”
“Well, you can write a big, fat no to that on your little report.”
“Very well.” Dev set the water bottle aside and picked up his tablet to look over his notes. “Do you recall the exact date Carter Hamilton arrived in Sedona?”
“Why would I recall that?” He’d gotten her dander up and it seemed there was no getting it down. “He showed up with the Conclave, so whenever they say they came here, that’s the exact date.”
Dev nodded and made a note. “That’s fine. These are general questions to establish a timeline, so please just answer to the best of your ability. I’m not grading you on this.” He tried to give her an affable smile but Margot wasn’t having it. “So you never saw Carter Hamilton before the Conclave convened.”
Margot sighed. “No, I never saw him before that.”
Dev made another note, aware that every time he did so, Margot seemed to get more irritated. “And did Ms. Carlisle appear to be acquainted with him at that time?”
“You mean had she met him before? No. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Margot opened her water and drank it forcefully.
“So she told you that they’d never met.”
“No, it was clear to me that they’d never met.”
“Were you aware of their subsequent relationship?”
Margot opened her mouth, clearly ready to tell him off, and then paused. “Well...no, actually. That came as quite a surprise. I wouldn’t have thought she’d fall for someone like him. He was a little too perfect, you know? Kind of...glossy.” Margot made a slight shudder of distaste.
Dev wasn’t quite sure what “glossy” signified but it was obvious that Carter Hamilton had left an unsavory impression with the lot of them, based on the interviews so far. He couldn’t help but be somewhat pleased at the thought that Ione’s ex-boyfriend hadn’t been well liked. But Margot was still waiting for him to continue.
Dev cleared his throat. “So you would characterize Ms. Carlisle as being good at being discreet about such things.”
“I guess so. I mean, if she was carrying on with him, none of us knew it. She’s very private.”
“Then you wouldn’t necessarily have known if she actually hadn’t met him before his arrival with the Conclave or whether she was just being discreet.”
“I...what are you, a lawyer? Because you kind of talk like him, you know.”
Dev smiled. “No, just English. And I’m merely trying to be thorough. I’m not trying to entrap you.”
Margot eyed him with arms folded. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Just one more question and then we’re through. To your knowledge, prior to the incident at Rafael Diamante Senior’s house on eleven August, had the high priestess engaged in any magical practice for the purpose of personal gain?” Of course, he knew the answer to that. Ione had used a glamour to pick him up in a bar. But he wasn’t about to put that in his report.
“Absolutely not. Ione has always been very clear on that with the coven. She’s a stickler for the rules. Which is why all of this is so absurd. And, frankly, insulting. You couldn’t do better than Ione Carlisle.” Margot jabbed a finger against the screen of his tablet. “You put that in your little notepad.”
Dev tried not to let his response to that statement show on his face. Because he quite agreed with it. “Thank you, Ms. Kelley.” He switched off the tablet and rose, offering his hand once more. “You’ve been a great help.”
She eyed his outstretched hand dismissively as she rose and straightened her billowy skirt. Dev let the hand fall.
Margot picked up her water to take with her. “How many other interviews do you have to do before you make up your mind about Ione? I mean, how much longer are you going to be here before we find out if we get to keep our high priestess?”
“I have six more members to interview. But if they’re anything like the rest of you, which I’m sure will be the case, I won’t have anything negative
to report back to the Council.” He smiled, though of course his report wasn’t going to matter much if the Conclave voted against Ione. And that was his fault, too.
He walked Margot to the door and found his next appointment waiting in the atrium. The older woman exchanged a warm greeting with Margot before the younger went on her way.
It wasn’t until later, after the interview finished and he was closing up the temple for the day, that he noticed the marks on his rental car. Someone had written something in red letters across the metallic-silver paint job. Dev crouched to examine it. The impure shall be cast out, and all those who consort with the impure. The words appeared to have been written in nail lacquer and it wasn’t quite dry. And Margot’s nails had been adorned in a similar shade.
* * *
Ione fretted when Phoebe didn’t get back to her that evening. Mulling over the revelation of their father’s infidelity and his secret life, she’d never wanted a drink more. Maybe it was time for Kylie to give Officer Paul a call. She could kill two birds with one stone. She tried not to think about the fact that with her double life as Kylie she was following in her father’s footsteps.
The cop expressed surprise and enthusiasm when “Kylie” phoned him.
“Absolutely, I remember you. Can you meet me at Bitters in an hour? There’s some people I’d love for you to meet.”
His group had reserved a private section of the club, and he waved Ione over when she arrived. The tall, dirty blond was built like a bouncer—or a cop, she supposed—barrel-chested with a thick middle that on anyone else might have looked like paunch, but she had a feeling it was just more muscle. Not someone she wanted to have to tangle with if things got ugly. She’d earned a green belt in krav maga, but he’d likely had his own fair share of martial arts training.
“Glad you could make it.” He gave her a side squeeze around her middle that confirmed her suspicions about his build. And pretty much gave her the creeps. “Guys, this is Kylie.”