by Krista Walsh
He spent the next few days dealing with reports and paperwork, both official documents and the ones for his personal files.
His call to Clare Davidson to let her know the resolution of her case hadn’t gone as smoothly as he might have hoped. She was still upset with him for standing in her way, and even more unimpressed that he hadn’t killed Ligeia to claim vengeance for her husband’s death. She’d offered a few choice words and hung up on him, but Gabe wasn’t worried. She was powerful and wealthy, but he’d solved her case.
Whatever she said about him in her circles, he didn’t suffer a drop in phone inquiries.
On the contrary, his business was booming since the snow stopped. Clients were coming in from across town asking him to find people who had gone missing during the storm. He’d have his work cut out for him, and his legs itched to start moving and get back to it.
Although his new cases fell heavily into the mundane category, he didn’t mind backing away from the supernatural side of the agency for a little while. Nightmares had chased him every night since his fight with John — some of them his and some of them the jinni’s. He woke in cold sweats, unable to fall asleep without a shot of whiskey and the gray light of dawn on the horizon. If this didn’t sort itself out soon, he worried his liver would be toast before he hit forty.
Some of the jinni’s memories had begun to blur with his own, like an intense film he’d watched and hadn’t enjoyed very much. With any luck, he’d forget about those moments in a few months. That didn’t mean they would be gone, though. One day, possibly even a decade from now, someone was bound to mention something that would stir up one of John’s memories, and it would rush to Gabe’s mind as easily as if he’d lived through it himself. He worried he might even forget that what he remembered had happened to somebody else.
But he had a plan to cope with that eventuality. During his sleepless nights, he’d sifted through the visions and written down as many as he could in a tattered old notebook, so if guilt ever threatened to overwhelm him for John’s many years of crimes, he could read and remember it was not his guilt to carry.
On the plus side, he hadn’t dreamed of Rick once since Ligeia had walked away. He crossed his fingers that, in solving the mystery of the river demon, he’d conquered his own demons as well.
He’d woken this morning to find the news stations were still interviewing people about the Snowmaggedon that had swept through New Haven. Meteorologists were trying to explain it with science. Most people were clearly willing to go along with their theories, although some joked about aliens or used it as an argument to bolster their evidence around climate change.
Gabe had let their words drift by him without giving them any consideration. How could people begin to understand that the storm had been caused by one angry woman fueled by an unknown power looking to get revenge on a man who had hurt her? He was just relieved that no one else in the city seemed to have the same power, or he’d have to fear for the ongoing health of his hot water tank.
Daphne Heartstone’s latest article in the Chronicle had held his interest longer as she announced that the police were declaring the Wishrock Harbor murders unsolved. The detectives had found nothing to further their case, and would have nothing more to go on now that the murders had stopped.
Gabe considered writing to her as an anonymous source letting her know the full details of what had happened, but decided it was better to leave it alone. He didn’t want to risk the detectives setting off after Ligeia to drag her back to town to face justice. He couldn’t guarantee their safety in the attempt.
He set down his pen and rubbed his eyes beneath his new sunglasses. Rain pattered against the windowpanes of his office, and he twisted his head to stare out over the shadowed streets of the warehouse district. A few people ran between doorways to stay out of the weather, and headlights cut through the murky dusk.
He leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up on his desk, and allowed his thoughts to drift.
He hadn’t heard from Ligeia since she’d walked away from the jinni’s house. He’d kept her from his thoughts, needing a mental break from everyone involved with that case, but as he watched the rain fall, he wondered if she’d already left for the north. He wondered if she’d used his money to get herself set up, or if she was wandering aimlessly for a while until she figured out what she wanted from her new life.
He hoped she’d find something that made her happy. Or at least something that kept her out of trouble.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he rose to his feet and locked the office door before rifting into his apartment.
As soon as he stepped one leg over the threshold, he froze. A soft scent lingered in the air that wasn’t warm pizza or stale beer, or the sweetness of the baklava he’d grabbed from the bakery the previous day.
It was softer, like the sharpness of snow after the season’s first snowstorm.
He scanned the kitchen and living room and cocked his head to see around the corner to the empty space with his unpacked boxes. Unless someone was crouched in a two-foot-square box or hiding behind the shower curtain, it looked like no one was home.
When the discomfort of standing in both places at once grew to be too much, he stepped through the doorway and closed it behind him. His apartment door stood ajar. When he reached out to grab the handle, the metal was icy, and he jerked his fingers away before they stuck.
Gabe leaned into the hallway and peered toward the stairs, then the elevator, but both directions were clear.
He closed the door, twisted the deadbolt, and turned back toward his apartment.
His gaze landed on his kitchen table, and his overburdened mind worked to figure out what was catching his attention. There was the box of cereal and the still-to-be-washed bowl he’d used for breakfast this morning, the pouch of lockpicks he hadn’t returned to the box, the headset he’d tossed there after coming home from John’s…and his hunting knife.
It sat on the edge of the table, placed diagonally across a cream-hued envelope. His name was printed in a shaky scrawl across the front, the writing of someone who had once been proficient in the art of penmanship but had long gone without practice.
His throat closed at the sight of the blade, and he ached to grab it, but couldn’t move. After everything he’d seen in the last week, he was afraid the knife wasn’t actually there. That it was one more of John’s tricks to make him hope for the impossible.
Gabe squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them to find the knife still on the table, he took the chance and stepped toward it. He ran his fingers over the leather hilt, into the grooves of the design, and along the sharpened edge. He pressed the pad of his index finger against the point and hissed as it broke through his skin, a drop of blood bubbling to the surface.
With one hand around the hilt, afraid to let the knife go in case it vanished, he pulled the letter from the envelope and smoothed it out to read.
Gabriel,
I thought you might need this. Keep it close, and when the time comes, don’t hesitate to use it. Whatever swam in the darkness with me might not be satisfied with remaining in the shadows for much longer.
You’re a good and noble man. Don’t allow what pain and anger you carry with you to wipe out the best in you. Just as I’m going to try to find a place to plant some roots, I suggest you do the same. There’s no purpose in moving forward if we don’t have somewhere we belong.
I hope one day our paths cross again. Until they do, think of me each time you sing.
Ligeia
Her final words washed away some of the oily dread that had slithered through Gabe’s stomach at the first paragraph, and his lips twitched upward in a smile. He held the blade at eye level to survey the edge.
It needed some cleaning after so many days under the water, but no rust tainted the metal.
He took the knife to the coffee table and slid it into the stiff leather sheath. The smoothness with which it returned home filled him with a warm satisfaction.
Finally, his life was falling back into place.
He had opened his investigative agency with a solid intention, and after eight months, his purpose had been renewed. He’d overcome his fear of his Gorgon heritage and used it to do some good. If living with John in his head for a while was the price he had to pay, the consequence was worth the effort.
Up until twenty minutes ago, he’d been content to take a break from the harder cases and spend his time finding lost husbands and wives and sneaking through the shadows to dig up dirt on corporate scum. But with his brother’s blade returned to him and Ligeia’s voice in his ear, he realized he wouldn’t stay satisfied with that life for long. He’d had a taste of the extraordinary and all it had to offer, and he accepted that he was done running from it. All his life he’d tried to tie himself to the regular world, wanting to put his Gorgon side behind him while taking discreet advantage of the perks his Fae side offered, but now he knew he was capable of so much more. He could help so many more people.
Percy would be thrilled.
Allegra’s face popped into his head, and he thought about calling her to fill her in on how the case had ended — to thank her for her help and let her know about Ligeia’s dark companion lurking in the river — but his hand hovered over his phone. In the end, he dropped his arm to his side without dialing.
She’d already said goodbye and offered her final words of advice. While he guessed he would see her again, his gut told him now wasn’t the time.
After all, he hadn’t even followed through on her recommendation.
Gabe had to laugh, even as his insides twisted.
Here he was, ready to take on the demons of the world to protect the unknowing from the dangers around them, but the thought of one woman could still stop his heart and turn his legs to putty.
He thought of Allegra’s kisses, the heat and desire they had awoken in his body. He thought of Ligeia, and how her wide-eyed innocence had evoked his need to protect her.
Both had stirred his emotions and created a longing for something more. Something lasting.
He thought of the flash of color he’d seen in John’s living room during the brief, breathtaking moments when his sunglasses were off. He’d already begun to readjust to the shadows, but the memory of that brightness clung to him and made him want to step into the sun.
He paced the length of his apartment.
It wasn’t impossible.
You know what you want, Gabe. Now is the time to go get it.
His heart skipped a beat.
Not even the wolfhounds had struck such a spike of terror through him. His fingers tingled, and he wiped his clammy hands on his pants.
Just get it over with. You’ve faced worse.
He released a slow breath and raised his hand to open a rift, but the sound of a call coming in through his computer stopped him. Gabe shifted his attention between the rift and the phone call, caught between his choices.
Finally, he dropped his hand and moved toward his futon to answer it. Sitting down, he made another note to toss the mattress out in the morning. One of these days he would finally get it done.
“How’s your hand?” Gabe asked as he answered the call. He hadn’t heard from Percy since the showdown, and it was good to see his face again.
His friend held up the swaths of thick bandages. “It’s healing fine. No sign of any wolfhound-related illnesses, so I’ll call that a win and move on. It’s made typing a challenge, though.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabe said. He pushed his hand through his hair and cupped the back of his neck. “I didn’t know he’d be able to send them out like that. I shouldn’t have let you come with us.”
Percy rolled his eyes. “What would you have done without me? Just admit that I saved your ass and we’ll put it behind us.”
“You saved my ass,” Gabe agreed. “Without a doubt. What happened to the hound, anyway?”
Percy laughed. “I caged it.”
“Of course you did,” Gabe replied, as though it were the most natural response in the world. He waited for Percy to explain, but his friend sat there, smiling smugly, waiting for Gabe to ask. “How?”
Percy’s smile widened into a grin. “It’s pretty great. A few years ago when I was planning my ghosthunter business — don’t ask, it never went anywhere — I created this box that traps ethereal energy. Kind of like the ghost traps in those movies. I’ve never used it, but I keep it on my desk as an action figure stand. When the hound was coming at me, I was throwing everything I could at it, right? So I picked up the box and threw it at him, and I guess it just landed on the button, because it opened. Flash of white light, sucked the energy in, then snapped closed. Now the box is sitting on my bookcase and the hound’s energy is just spinning around like silver fog. Like a lava lamp. Kind of cool.”
Gabe’s blood turned cold, and his skin prickled. “You should destroy it.”
Percy’s grin disappeared as his face hardened. “I won’t. It’s research, and while I know that makes you uncomfortable, you weren’t here. This thing tried to kill me, and I want to be prepared if something like that happens again.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, each one holding his own. Finally, Gabe dropped his gaze and nodded. Percy had a point, even if Gabe didn’t like it.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” he said. “And in the meantime, you have a ghostly friend you don’t need to clean up after.”
Percy nodded, but his smile was a bit off. Gabe wondered if his friend had stepped too close to the fire to be comfortable around the flame. Researching a subject was a lot different than coming face-to-face with it.
“How about you?” Percy asked. “You holding up?”
“Getting there. Feels weird not to have anything life-threatening to greet me when I wake up in the morning,” Gabe replied. “Amazing how quickly you get used to things.”
Percy smirked and brought something up on his computer screen. “If it makes you feel any better, I found this yesterday and thought you might be interested. After all that talk about Tartarus Prison, I decided to do some digging into the place. You know, I hadn’t even heard of it before. Fascinating history.”
Gabe groaned. “Please don’t go digging too deeply into Tartarus. They don’t take kindly to people poking around. Unless you’re one of the residents. Then the guards find it entertaining.”
“I kept my distance, don’t worry,” Percy said. “I couldn’t have taken a closer look if I wanted to — that’s what’s so interesting. They’ve gone on lockdown.”
Gabe sat up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean complete radio silence. No calls, no internet, no digital data going in or out of that place for the last month.”
Gabe’s curiosity purred, and he leaned closer to the screen as Percy brought up a satellite image of the prison. It sat on the edge of an island, all stone cliffs and charged electrical fences, and he suspected a few magical barriers existed around it as well to keep the mundane’s questions away. A modern-day Chateau d’If. From a distance, it looked like a standard military base, but Gabe knew that within those walls lurked some of the darkest monsters out of some of the most twisted childhood nightmares.
If the wardens had locked it down, the reason couldn’t be good.
“Add that to the list of things to watch, will you?” he asked. “Nothing we can do about it, but I wouldn’t mind a heads up if my world is about to be destroyed by the bogeyman.”
Percy closed the picture and leaned back in his chair. “I say bring it on. You and me, man, we make a damn good team.”
Gabe laughed and sagged into the futon. The springs shifted under his weight and poked him in the thigh.
He took a swig of beer and thought about Ligeia’s letter, her fear that danger would soon be slithering into town. He thought about Allegra and the mystery of why she’d been dragged back to New Haven after every attempt to leave.
He’d opened his agency to stand as a buffer between wha
t was good in this town and what sought to destroy it. It looked like he might be balancing on a more precarious ledge than he’d originally believed.
But Percy was right — they made a great team, and now they had the advantage of foreknowledge. No matter what was coming, Gabe would stand ready to greet it, with or without his sunglasses on.
To learn more about the next book in The Invisible Entente series, sign up for my newsletter here
Thank You for Reading
If you enjoyed the read, please help support the author by leaving a review at the retailer where you purchased the book. Reviews make a world of difference for an author, helping us reach new audiences and bringing more people into the worlds you’ve spent time in
For exclusive character content, announcements, promotions, and special offers, sign up for Krista’s mailing list at http://eepurl.com/GIJkz
Acknowledgments
It isn’t often a book sweeps me off my feet in the first draft, but Gabe and Percy succeeded. Even still, their charm needed some polish to get them into their final state, for which I’m grateful to a number of people on my team:
To my editor, Sue Archer, who helped me add more heart to the story and drew out quite a few extra laughs. To my cover artist, Ravven, for a cover that catches the atmosphere and temperature of the story (so chilly, and yet so warm).
To my beta readers, Nicole Lopez, Krista Jasper, and Meghan Gover: thank you for catching the little things that I never would have noticed.
To Kate Sparkes, for always pushing me forward.
To my family for the love, support, and bookstore gift certificates, so I can lose hours searching for my next great inspiration. And to my other half, Chris Reddie, for helping to make sure our lives don’t crumble to bits while I’m caught up in production.
To my readers, thank you for your company, your feedback, your comments on the social media. I look forward to getting to know more of you as we move deeper into the series.