by Joyce Lavene
Sunshine winced at her words. “I’m sure you wouldn’t like me to bring up past hurts that banshees have suffered—or dead Queens of Ulster.”
“What is it you want of me? I have made it plain what I require of you. Don’t play games with me, witch. You would find me a bad loser.”
“I think we’re talking at cross purposes here, Aine.” Sunshine smiled at her. “You have abilities that Mr. Bad seems to feel could be useful to our investigation into our associate’s death. We could help you negotiate the modern world to find your O’Neill so you can scream at him whenever you like. You help us. We help you. Is that clear?”
Aine stood up to her full height again, towering over the seemingly calm witch who didn’t so much as blink one of her perfectly made-up eyes. Her jaw dropped to unleash her keening wail. But nothing came out of her throat.
“What have you done?” Aine demanded.
“You signed over temporary rights for your ‘gift’ to the Purple Door Detective Agency until such time as we are both satisfied that our contract is complete.”
“Signed over?” Aine’s skeletal hand reached for Sunshine’s throat. “I shall throttle the life from your worthless body! Then I shall feed your contract to the mouse. You may control my keening, but you do not control me.”
Sunshine found that Aine’s words were true. She’d planned to get away so quickly that the she couldn’t catch her, but once the banshee’s hand had lodged around her neck, she couldn’t move. She tried several types of spells, but none worked on her opponent.
“We can still be friends,” she grated past the banshee’s grip. “We can go shopping and find you something to wear that didn’t come out of a grave.”
Aine pressed her advantage over the astonished witch and would have snapped her neck. But the room around them began to shake as a voice bellowed from Mr. Bad’s office.
“Enough!”
This was deep, older magic. She recognized the ancient feel of it. It had been many years since she’d known anything of its kind. The man in the other room that the witch called Mr. Bad was much more than her partner. Even though her entire being was caught up in needing to find O’Neill, she wondered who and what he really was. She might have to discover the answer for herself before she returned home.
Sunshine sat back in her chair, coughing delicately, her face pale and stunned as though unaccustomed to brute force. Aine stood back, waiting to see what the real power behind this place required of her.
“He wants us in there,” Sunshine croaked.
“Does he now?” Aine sneered, her distaste at being summoned obvious.
“Come this way.”
Sunshine walked across the outer office. Aine saw the small shapeshifter on the desk. To change shape and become a mouse seemed a waste of power to her. She had to wonder at the young woman’s family that had allowed such a thing.
Mr. Bad was still seated in his large chair behind the desk. Aine had barely a glimpse of him as the door opened and closed behind them and they were part of his dark world.
“I know this is not what you came for, Aine,” he said in a rumbling voice. “But you have my word that we will help you find the young man you seek.”
“You will not manipulate me in this manner,” Aine told him. “I am descended from the great kings. I came to you for help. All I have found is trickery by this puppet witch who serves you.”
“Don’t mistake me, Aine of Ulster. I know who you are and what crimes you have committed, which you have tried to erase through your service to the O’Neill family. I have need of you. Help us and find what you came for. Without us you will wither and die never fulfilling your obligations.”
Aine didn’t reply. She trembled in her fury at choosing this place to ask for assistance.
Yet something had brought her here when she couldn’t locate the last O’Neill of the bloodline. No doubt it was this dark man and his witch. The smell and feel of power was all around her. She’d been drawn here and now couldn’t leave until their bargain was met.
“It seems I have no choice, Dark Lord.” Aine inclined her head to show her respect for the powerful elder. “But mark me well—keep your witch leashed. I have no wish to hurt her, but I shall if she annoys me past what I can endure.”
“It seems we have an accord then, my lady.”
Aine and Sunshine left the dark office, closing the door behind them. They stared angrily at each other, appearing to size one another up as though expecting a battle. Their gazes narrowed and their hands became fists.
Jane laughed nervously, transformed into a woman again. “Awesome. Who could eat some pizza? I don’t know about you two, but I’m starved. We can go over the details of what needs to be done while we eat. What do you think?”
Her words broke their concentration. Sunshine glanced away from the banshee’s face.
“Of course. Why not?” She smiled at Jane and ignored Aine.
Aine went grudgingly with the witch and the mouse, not certain what to make of this new threat. Mr. Bad stayed in his office.
The pizzeria was a few doors down in another historic, renovated brick building close to the downtown office for the Norfolk Police Department. The smell of tomatoes and spices drew the lunchtime crowd like a come-hither spell.
“Maybe we should do something with those clothes first.” Sunshine stared at Aine. “We could hit the consignment shop before we eat. It’s only a block or two away.”
Jane carefully agreed, keeping her distance from the banshee. “This is buy one, get one free day too. She could probably use more than one outfit.”
“Bah!” Aine stepped away from Sunshine and Jane, off the busy sidewalk. “The two of you prattle like magpies. If there is a need, I can appear different at any time.”
Sunshine tilted her head. “Really? Please do. We know people here. I’m not sure how I’d explain bringing in a zombie to lunch.”
“Stand away. Allow me to allay your misgivings about my appearance.”
Aine shook herself from head to toe. Dust and dirt from the old castle fanned out around her and fell to the street.
“Why would she choose to look like that if she doesn’t have to?” Jane whispered in a trembling voice.
“There’s no accounting for taste,” Sunshine muttered as she watched the transformation. “Besides, she was hoping to scare us. I guess she found we weren’t scared so easy.”
“I think she was as terrified of Mr. Big as we are.”
“Hush now.” Sunshine cut her off. “Let’s see what she has.”
Aine’s appearance had changed to a more human form. Her face became fuller with pale flesh and green eyes. Her form slightly filled out the ankle-length black dress she wore, a black hood across her gray hair. Her feet were encased in rough leather sandals.
“Does this suit you?” she asked the other women.
“Not bad,” Sunshine said. “It needs a scarf or some jewelry, but it’ll do. Much better than the corpse. This way you almost look like a witch.”
“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Aine said. “There has never been a witch on the throne of Ulster.”
“How do you know?” Sunshine wondered as they started walking toward the pizzeria again. “As I said, witches were persecuted in the past. They’d be unlikely to announce what they were as they ascended the throne.”
They went into the trendy restaurant and were seated by an older teenager popping her bubble gum as she guided them to a table. There was a crowd for lunch, as always. It was a mixture of business types in suits and casual wear with trendy shoppers and friends meeting for a meal. There was also a fair amount of police officers.
“Isn’t this awesome?” Sunshine asked Aine. She’d sat beside her in the booth while Jane shivered across from them. “I bet they didn’t have anything like this where you came from.”
Aine glanced around with disdain, her head held regally high as she took in the modern atmosphere. “Aye, they had nothing like this. There was a tavern
where the hunt stopped that was frequented by the royals and their friends. The food was roasted boar, apples, cheese, and ale so good it made men weep.”
Sunshine picked up a menu and handed it to Aine. “No boar here, but the pizza with roasted peppers is to die for. You should try it, unless you don’t like spicy foods.”
“I don’t like spicy foods,” Jane whispered from behind her tall menu. “They give me a tummy ache.”
“Why does your shapeshifter turn into a mouse?” Aine asked. “Surely a valuable shapeshifter would turn into a wolf or a horse—something of power and strength.”
Sunshine tapped her purple and silver nails on the tabletop. “Where’s that waiter? I’m starving.”
“I don’t shapeshift into a mouse,” Jane explained. “I’m a mouse who shapeshifts into a woman.”
Aine glanced at Sunshine. “Is this true? Was it ye who cursed her this way?”
“It was an accident,” she mumbled, reading the fine print on the menu. “I’m not the kind of witch who normally does magic of that sort.”
“What kind are you?” Aine asked.
“The kind who tries to do good for people. That’s why I started the Purple Door Detective Agency. We solve problems for those of us outside society. It’s mostly for people like us who have been wronged by humans or others of our kind. We settle disputes, locate lost relatives, that kind of thing.”
As Sunshine continued outlining dozens of cases that had come to them in the past five years that the agency had been open, Aine felt a burning sensation in her head. Something was amiss. She hadn’t felt that ache for so long. She almost mistook it for illness.
But it was the mark of the family she served. An O’Neill of the bloodline was close. She tried to sharpen the feeling, knowing it would lead her to him. She already knew there was only one heir—a male. He had not taken a family nor had children as yet. He was quite young himself, and alone. His affections were still free from any female who might truly engage them.
Once she’d tuned out the constant chattering of her companions, it became clear that he was there in the eating hostelry. He was among the close crowd seated and enjoying the strange food she smelled.
“Hi there!” The waitress greeted them. “Did you notice the specials at the door when you came in? No? Well, let me spell them out for you. We have a slice of deep dish cheese and pepperoni. That’s served with a small salad. We have breadstick pizza. And we have pizza soup which may not sound appetizing, but trust me, it’s really yummy.”
Aine stood rapidly. “Stop speaking. You are disturbing my concentration. Why must you all blather constantly? Is this what the future holds?”
The waitress with the slice of pizza fascinator on her pink hair stared without speaking, a look of horror on her face, despite the more human aspect of Aine’s appearance.
“We’ll all have the breadstick pizza.” Sunshine rapidly made the executive decision. “Three sweet teas with that, plenty of ice.”
The waitress finally blinked and put the order into the tablet she held. “Thanks. We’ll have that ready in a jiffy.” She wasted no time moving away from their table.
“Sit down, Aine,” Sunshine hissed, hoping no one was watching. “Your blood sugar is probably low after your trip from Ireland. Do banshees fly? I can’t remember from the mythology. You know, you might be the only banshee left.”
Aine didn’t sit down. She left the table as though drawn beyond her will to discover the O’Neill she had sensed.
“What’s she doing?” Jane whispered to her boss. “Is she going to scream again?”
“No.” Sunshine got up. “Not on my watch. Wait here.”
Chapter Three
Aine was walking slowly past the restaurant’s patrons, staring into each face. She had already gone by several tables where the people stared back with looks of surprise.
“You can’t do this here,” Sunshine told her. “This isn’t your boar-eating century. And some of these people could be clients in the future. You know what those are, right?”
“Silence, witch.” Aine sniffed a man in a gray business suit. “The last O’Neill is here now. I knew he was close. I have no need of further assistance from you. I must only identify him and make it known who I am.”
The assistant manager approached them. He was a young man with curly, red hair who played with his pizza tie as he spoke. “I’m sorry ladies, but could you please take your seats? You’re making the other customers uncomfortable.”
“We were looking for the restroom.” Sunshine smiled at him. “Maybe you could find it for us.” She muttered a spell to forget under her breath.
“Of course. Thank you.” He smiled and walked away.
Aine put her hand on a man’s balding head and turned him to face her. “You are not the man I seek.”
He breathed easier that it was true and moved closer to his companion.
“You’re making a spectacle of yourself,” Sunshine told her. “I can find this O’Neill person much easier than this. Just give me some idea what he looks like. I’ll have him come to us.”
Already angry that she was having such a difficult time identifying the man she must serve, Aine turned on the witch. “Leave me be. Do you not think if I knew him I would go to him? I can yet find him without your help. I have agreed to work with you, but you sorely try my patience.”
“I’ll leave you alone as soon as you sit down and eat your pizza.”
Aine raised her hands and opened her mouth.
“No. We aren’t doing that except as the agency needs you, remember?”
But at that moment, Aine’s unfailing sense located the O’Neill heir. He was seated across from a beautiful woman with black hair, creamy white skin, and eyes the color of the summer sky. He was sharing pizza soup with her.
She pushed Sunshine aside and ran to him, dropping on one knee beside his table, her head inclined with respect. “O’Neill. I find you at long last. We are united now. You need not fear your death.”
Sean Patrick O’Neill barely glanced away from his girlfriend’s face. “Thanks. Could you bring the extra salad back with you?”
“She’s in training,” Sunshine told him. “Excuse us.”
“You do not recognize me,” Aine continued, refusing to give up her quest. “I was under an enchantment for these past two hundred years and more. Your family—your home—has fallen into ruin. But as the last of the O’Neill bloodline, I am your beane sidhe. I shall haunt you to your grave and then guide you to the underworld. Have no fear. I am at your side.”
Sean O’Neill, the last of a noble line that he was completely unaware of, was a handsome young man in his early thirties. His slightly curly brown hair had gold highlights, and his blue eyes viewed the situation with equanimity. His gray suit wasn’t expensive, but he wore it well on a tall, lean body with broad shoulders. His mouth had smile lines, indicating his good humor.
Sunshine played to his easy smile. “This is all a mix-up,” she told him. “My friend is trying out for a part in a play. She thought you were the director. It could happen to anyone, right?”
Aine finally surveyed him. “I see your great-great-grandfather’s look about you. Yer a handsome rogue just like him.”
He laughed. “If it was up to me, I’d give her the part. She’s totally believable.”
“Hear that, Aine?” Sunshine smiled and tried to draw her to her feet. “He says you’re good. Let’s see if we can find the real director, huh? We’ll let these nice people get on with their lunches.”
Sean smiled at Aine. “Brava! You’re a wonderful actress. I hope to see you in a movie one day.”
“Why can’t you see who I am?” she asked him in an anguished tone. “You should immediately recognize me as I have known you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Have we met before?”
“You know these women, Sean?” His companion was beginning to sound neglected and suspicious.
“No, Elena. I’ve never seen eit
her of them before.”
“That’s okay.” Sunshine left him a business card. “We’re leaving now, right, Aine?”
Devastated and unsure what to do, Aine went quietly with her. Had the same enchantment that had made her sleep for so long robbed him of his memory too? He should have instinctively known who she was, even if his forebear hadn’t told him.
When they got back to their table, Sunshine asked the waitress to wrap everything up, and they’d take it with them. “We’re not quite ready to be in public,” she told Jane.
“That’s okay. I like to eat at home better anyway.”
Aine went with them without raising a word of protest, but outside as they walked back to the office, her appearance changed back to that of the bony gray hag. Jane scooted away from her to walk on the other side of Sunshine.
Glad to be off the street and out of the public eye, Sunshine collapsed in her purple office chair as they got back to the detective agency. Jane scurried to divide the pizza three ways. What was Mr. Bad thinking wanting to add Aine to their employee roster?
Yes, she was powerful—probably more than Sunshine realized. But she was also disturbed and obviously had no idea how to act in society. It had taken them years to be accepted in this community. Aine might blow it all for them.
But she didn’t ask him. Instead she sat at her desk and ate her pizza sticks. Aine sat across from her, staring out the window. It was incredibly unnerving for the witch, though she wouldn’t have admitted it. Those empty eye sockets and grotesque face weren’t something anyone would want to see as they ate.
Sunshine knew she was going to have to take control of the situation. If Mr. Bad wanted the banshee there, he had a good reason. She’d learned not to second guess the rare times he’d had something to say to John. She was going to have to figure out what to do with Aine.
“Are you sure you don’t want some of this?” she asked for the third time. There was no response from the banshee. “If not, maybe we should just go ahead and get down to work finding John’s killer.”
Aine didn’t speak or glance her way. Sunshine pulled out John’s file. Looking at the photos of him—alive and dead—made something inside her feel dead too.