“You ever notice how all the witches we know who are named Red, or Carmine, or Scarlett all have red hair?” I said, trying to change the subject. “Though I think Ember Pine dyes hers.”
“I don’t know any witches named any of those things,” Declan said.
The server appeared at the edge of the table with our milkshakes, hesitating with the distribution of the different flavors.
“In the middle works,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Okay.” She placed down the chocolate shake, which Jasmine immediately snagged.
Declan grinned, shaking his head for my benefit while the server placed down the strawberry and the vanilla shakes. Then I smiled back, eyeing him.
He snorted. “You’re the one with the sudden red obsession.”
I laughed, snagging the strawberry for myself. With Jasmine’s and Declan’s heads both bowed over their shakes, I caught sight of the red-haired woman as she entered the diner. “It’s not all that sudden,” I said, taking a wholly satisfying slurp of my strawberry shake. “The woman who just came in has red hair.”
Declan grunted, drinking down his vanilla shake at a remarkable rate.
“Although,” I said, watching the woman as she scanned the interior of the diner, “in this light, her hair is more copper than truly red.”
Declan went very still. Then he slowly twisted in his seat, following my gaze.
“And …” — I focused on the woman — “I think she might actually be a witch. That’s odd, isn’t it? Did the Convocation say they were sending someone?”
Declan swore viciously under his breath in Creole. Or at least his version of it.
The woman locked her blue-eyed gaze on our table, heading our way with a look of utter determination. Declan darted out of the booth, crossing back through the aisle to physically block her progress.
“What the hell?” Jasmine muttered, craning around to watch Declan hustle the witch back out of the diner.
As they moved, the copper-haired woman kept glancing over her shoulder, as if she were trying to get a better look at Jasmine and me.
“Enter complication number five,” Jasmine muttered.
“Number five?”
“That’s Copper.”
I immediately transferred my attention out the front window, my heart squelching in my chest in an entirely new, terrible way. Declan was leaning over the witch, even as tall as she was, talking to her a mile a minute.
Copper.
“Not so broken up,” I said, rubbing my chest as if that might ease the pain lodged there. Then I dropped my hand when I realized that Jasmine was watching me.
“Just because she’s making a last-ditch play for him doesn’t mean anything.”
I dragged my gaze away from the drama in the parking lot. “And what did you mean, complication number five? Are you counting? What are the first four?”
She grinned at me saucily. “You figure it out.”
I laughed, somewhat incredulously. Then, against my will, my attention was drawn outside again. Copper met my gaze through the window, then gestured toward me.
Declan spun around. His jaw was clenched, his shoulders tight.
I tried to offer him a smile. But, more than a little chagrined at being caught staring, I ended up grimacing instead.
He threw his hands up, frustrated. Then, having come to some decision, he charged back toward the door.
A satisfied smile flitted across Copper’s face. She lifted her chin, strolling after Declan as if she had all the time in the world.
“She’s playing him,” I murmured, not at all happy with the observation.
“She’s a woman, isn’t she?” Jasmine said.
“Hey!”
“I mean, dealing with a guy like Declan. You’re either straight up and take what happens in stride, or …” She shrugged without finishing her thought.
Declan barreled toward the booth, nearly colliding with the server carrying plates heaped with fries, onion rings, and his burger. She cried out, but managed to avoid dumping the food.
“Excuse me,” he said gruffly, stepping back and allowing her the space to set the food down on the table. While waiting, he locked his intense gaze on me, but I couldn’t read his expression.
The server stepped away from the table. “I’ll get you more napkins.”
“Thank you,” I said, keeping my gaze on Declan.
A flood of emotion washed across his face — a mixture of frustration, regret, and anger. Then he angled his shoulders to the right, allowing Copper, who’d been standing behind him the entire time, access to the table.
I slid out of my seat, standing up to greet her.
“Copper Sherwood, witch.” Declan’s tone was stilted as he forced himself to make proper introductions. “Wisteria Fairchild, reconstructionist, and my … my …”
I actually wasn’t technically his anything. We weren’t really related. And it was unlikely he wanted to introduce me as his former sweetheart. If that was what we’d even been.
“… my sister’s cousin.”
I reached my hand out to Copper. “How do you do?”
She looked surprised by my offer to shake, flexing her hand but then not reaching out herself.
Jasmine laughed huskily. “Good call, Copper. Dissing Wisteria is the perfect way to endear yourself.”
Anger flushed Copper’s face.
“Would you join us?” I asked, sliding back into the booth.
Declan crowded in next to me, forcing me against the window and away from Copper.
“Jasmine,” Copper said, perching on the very edge of the seat and eyeing the food spread across the table distastefully. “Attached to your laptop like always.”
“Yeah,” Jasmine said snarkily. “Because missing kids are just so boring.”
Copper looked aghast. “I didn’t know what you were working on.”
“Oh? Just thought we were on a vacation?”
“Of course not. I knew you were here on a case, but …” She trailed off, locking her distressed gaze on Declan as if silently seeking support.
Declan reached across the table and retrieved his milkshake, allowing his ex-girlfriend the freedom to handle the situation on her own. It seemed pretty clear that she had completely set up this meeting. Though to what end, I wasn’t sure.
“You were in town?” I asked politely. “Or you live in town?”
“No,” Declan said unhelpfully, digging into the fries.
“I was in Santa Monica, delivering some items that couldn’t be shipped to a client,” Copper said, not quite meeting my gaze. “When I checked in with him, Declan mentioned he was coming to LA as well. I was … I was hoping to meet you.”
I wasn’t entirely certain how to respond. “Well, I’m glad. Though I’m not sure how long we’ll be in town.”
Jasmine frowned at her brother, possibly at the confirmation that Declan had broken up with the witch while she was away from home. If they were actually broken up. Copper’s desire to meet me, and the fact that she’d known we were at the diner, seemed to contradict that.
Kett appeared at the door to the diner, scanning the windows before he entered. I lifted my hand, drawing his attention. He nodded but then frowned, noting that our booth was full.
“Who is that?” Copper asked, craning her neck to follow my gaze.
Neither Declan nor Jasmine answered her.
Kett drew what looked like a hotel keycard out of his pocket, nodding in the direction of the SUV.
“Do you still have the car keys?” I asked Jasmine.
“Second set,” she said.
I nodded to the vampire. He disappeared.
“Kett booked a hotel. He’s leaving the keycard in the car.”
A text message pinged through on Jasmine’s phone. She scanned it. “He sent me a map link.”
“Kett?” Copper asked, overly brightly.
I answered as pleasantly as I could. “A work colleague. As Jasmine said, we’re unfortunate
ly tracking two missing children.”
“Missing?” Copper asked in that same bright tone.
I eyed her coolly and quietly, becoming more and more bothered by the coincidence of the witch just happening to show up. Troubled by her interest in Kett and our investigation.
She began to fidget.
Declan straightened in his seat, his gaze on me.
Jasmine closed her laptop, then drew it to her chest protectively.
“Why are you here?” I whispered.
The copper-haired witch’s gaze flicked to Declan, then back to me.
“Wisteria.” Voicing my name as a warning, Jasmine snatched her cellphone off the table.
“Do you have something to do with the children?”
“No!” Copper cried, aghast.
“Do you know why they’ve been kidnapped?”
“Kidnapped? No! Of course not. I —”
“Where has Yale taken them? To what ends?”
Her eyes flicked to my hands on the table — and to the bracelet on my wrist, which was glowing so brightly I could see it on the edge of my peripheral vision.
“I don’t know what you’re —”
“The timing is odd, isn’t it?” I asked. “Showing up now? Talking about just wanting to meet me, and asking about Kett in that bright, fake tone. Like you don’t already know who he is and how he’s connected to all of us.”
Declan wrapped his hand around my wrist, covering my bracelet. I could feel the sparks of his magic on my exposed skin. “Wisteria,” he murmured softly.
Copper’s face crumpled. Suddenly and desperately sad, she dropped her gaze from me.
I looked over at Declan.
“I don’t think Copper is involved,” he said soothingly.
“No,” I said, suddenly aware that I’d almost just attacked the witch across the table from me. Almost accused her of kidnapping children. “I … I’m sorry.” I glanced over at Copper. “The case … the children …”
She nodded.
“I understand you’re here for Declan,” I said. “I … I just need some air. Would you let me pass?” I directed my question to Declan.
He nodded, slipping out of the booth. “I’ll pay,” he murmured as I slid out past him.
I nodded.
“Maybe I could help,” Copper said. “I’m proficient in tracking spells, and —”
“Thank you,” I said, rudely cutting her off but really needing to move beyond the current awkwardness. “I’m sure that would be appreciated. Jasmine?”
Then I escaped the confines of the diner, abandoning my best friend to deal with Declan’s helpful girlfriend. A girlfriend who I’d almost blasted across the room.
I stepped outside, practically gulping down fresh air despite the heat. The case had me terribly on edge. There was something I was missing, something that we were all missing.
Maybe it was another coincidence, like Copper just showing up unannounced … or maybe it was a specific coincidence that we’d shunted to the side, unexplored.
The shared birthdays.
A coincidence that I was afraid to explore further.
Because if Ruby sharing a date of birth with Declan and Jack sharing mine was deliberate, then Yale kidnapping witches for his own means made even less sense. Because if the shared birthdays actually meant something, then this was about us. About Jasmine, Declan, and me.
Something connected to the three of us was getting children kidnapped.
I pressed my hands to my face, surprised to find my skin cool even as I felt overheated.
Jasmine slipped out of the diner behind me.
“I need you to do something for me,” I said, rushing the request before she could speak, before she could ask me if I was okay.
“Anything. Always.”
“I need you to find the third missing child.”
“Third? Wisteria, we have no evidence —”
“Find me the missing witch with your birthday.” I turned around to meet her gaze. “I know it’s a nearly impossible request, especially if Yale targeted another unregistered fledgling … or has kidnapped multiple children, all with different birthdays. But please … just prove me wrong on this one point … please. Then I’ll be able to move on.”
She nodded.
“I know you’re busy tracking Jack and Ruby,” I said.
“No,” she said. “I’m just compiling evidence, looking for clues. I’ve got nothing. I’m hoping Kett talked to Yale.” She glanced back to the diner.
Inside, Copper was gazing up at Declan as he paid the bill at the cashier.
“We didn’t even touch the food,” I said mournfully.
Jasmine linked her arm through mine. “It gets worse. Copper just volunteered her services, and she’s a damn good witch.”
“Maybe it’s good she’s here, then. Good for Declan … and you.”
“Yeah, because both of us are so eager to replace you.”
“That’s not what I … never mind.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“I still get shotgun.”
I laughed. “It’s yours. Always.”
Jasmine sniffed, satisfied with my capitulation. I turned away from watching Declan and Copper. Maybe they could repair whatever had broken between them. And either way, I had no business being heartbroken about any of it.
Because I was tied to Kett, whether or not we were lovers. Whether or not I had any choice in the matter.
Chapter 7
I curled up on the couch of the luxury hotel suite that Kett had booked for us — and that I’d already forgotten the name of — while Jasmine’s fingers danced over the keyboard of her laptop at a light-oak desk near the window. Despite the fact that darkness had fallen across the city while Jasmine worked, Kett hadn’t reappeared yet. And Declan and Copper had ‘gone for a walk’ hours before and never returned. So they were either fighting or having sex in some other room.
I had fallen asleep with the contents of Jack’s keepsake box carefully laid out across the coffee table before me. We had hit a dead end. Well, I at least had no idea what the next step in our investigation was. Jasmine still had a few threads she was pulling on, though, including the coincidences of the shared birthdays.
“Dawn Fairchild,” Jasmine murmured, rousing me from my light doze.
“Dawn?” I asked, racking my brain for a possible familial connection. “A cousin?”
“If she is, she’s way down the line. I’d have to piece together a family tree.” Jasmine paused, reading whatever she had just pulled up on her screen. “She’s seven. The only registered witch to share my birthday.”
“October 7,” I murmured. “Parents?”
“Um … Dean and Amy.”
“They didn’t opt in for weird witch names.”
“But they named their daughter Dawn.” Jasmine’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Okay, the mother, Amy, is registered with the Convocation. But maybe she’s nonpracticing. And Dean doesn’t use the Fairchild surname. I’ve got a fairly recent picture.”
She turned her laptop slightly, angling the screen so I could see the photo of a brown-haired, green-eyed girl with tanned skin and a missing front tooth.
I laughed. “Lucky her. She gets the magic but not the Fairchild bland-blond thing.”
“Hopefully her teeth grow in straight.”
“They have braces for that, you know.”
“They have magic for that, you know.”
“Right. Well, braces are cheaper unless you carry enough Fairchild blood that the family potion master is required to gift you with a teeth-straightening elixir. And Dawn isn’t Fairchild enough for that. Lucky her times two.”
“Jasper got one from Violet for Declan,” Jasmine said.
“Did he? I don’t remember that …”
Jasmine glanced over at me with a smirk. “You liked his crooked teeth.”
I smiled but didn’t respond.
She returned to her keyboard. “Let�
�s see … no missing person report, and … I … oh …” She exhaled sharply, as though all the air had been forced out of her lungs. “They … they’re dead.”
I straightened up on the couch. “What? All of them? When?”
Jasmine’s fingers danced. The light of her computer screen flickered across her face as she opened and closed multiple windows. “A car accident …”
“When?” I got to my feet. “When?”
Jasmine stilled, then looked over at me. “January 25, 2017.”
“More than a week after Kett took Yale to London.” I slumped back down on the couch, feeling oddly defeated. Though I should have been pleased that I’d been wrong about the possible pattern, at least for witches affiliated with the Convocation. We had no way of tracking unregistered witches. “Okay, then. That’s … good. We can focus on Ruby and Jack. I’m going to text Kett.”
I shifted off the couch, straightening my silk blouse and crossing toward my bag, which I’d left on the entertainment sideboard next to the TV. “And I should check in about Coral,” I said, pulling my phone out of my bag.
“Hmm,” Jasmine said, only half listening to me and still glued to her screen. “I checked in with Lavender about an hour ago. They’re bringing in a healer to work with the reader.”
I glanced up from my phone. Jasmine was flicking through pictures of a crumpled, charred car wreck.
“Are those …” I stepped as close to her laptop as I dared. “Are those crime scene photos? How do you get hold of these things?”
“You don’t want to know.”
I shook my head, texting Kett as I crossed back to the couch.
Any updates?
“This is weird,” Jasmine said thoughtfully. “They had a memorial service.”
“Most people do.”
“No, I mean as opposed to a funeral. There weren’t any bodies to bury.”
My stomach soured. “Yeah. The accident looks bad.”
Jasmine started flipping through pages and pages of information again, the images reflecting across her face. She looked tired. And sad. And though both states were entirely logical given the situation, I found myself wishing she were smiling and happy.
“It takes a really hot fire to completely consume a body,” she said. “That requires fuel.”
Unleashing Echoes (Reconstructionist 3) Page 13