“Then speak to him, Lily. I will gladly help Sailor, but my offer is contingent upon the terms stated.”
“I’m going to have to ponder that one.” I would be able to see Sailor tomorrow morning. He was going to just love this. “In the meantime, could I ask for some advice? Or does that have a price tag, too?”
Aidan inclined his head graciously. “As you know, Lily, talk is cheap.”
“Patience Blix and I were just chased by someone who’s a dead ringer for Sailor—during which I lost my Hand of Glory, by the way, but I’m hoping Carlos can get it back for me.”
“Carlos?”
“I told him some of what happened, and he was going to go over to Sailor’s apartment to check it out. He’ll try to retrieve my stuff. I dropped a backpack full of supplies, too. And my keys.”
Aidan shook his head. “You know how I feel about your ‘friendship’ with an SFPD inspector. You’re courting trouble.”
“Yeah, I know. Sailor said the same thing.”
Aidan looked surprised that he and Sailor would agree on anything.
“But Carlos has been a good friend to me, and he has been keeping me informed of what’s going on with Sailor. I think the more salient point, at the moment, is that Patience and I were chased by someone who looks exactly like Sailor. I mean exactly. Dresses like him, sounds like him, carries himself the same as Sailor. Except his eyes are empty, he was chasing us, and—according to Patience—he wanted to kill us.”
I shivered at the memory of those vacant eyes on the face of someone so familiar, so beloved.
“Have a seat, Lily,” Aidan said, as he sat behind his desk. “Tell me the whole story.”
“I thought you didn’t have the time.”
“I’ll make the time.”
After glancing at Oscar, who was now snoozing, I sat down in the chair facing Aidan and told him what had happened earlier with Patience.
“So you escaped with the aid of a shop owner in Chinatown,” Aidan mused. “Aren’t you the clever thing?”
“Lucky, not clever. If that shop owner hadn’t been so gutsy, we might have been in big trouble.”
“I think you may be dealing with a doppelgänger.”
He stood up and stepped over to his bookshelves, tilting his head to one side as though reading the spines.
“That’s . . . that’s really a thing?” I asked. “Doppelgängers are real? Actual doppelgängers?”
“How do you mean?”
“As you know, I’m not exactly clear on what’s real and what’s just folklore. I sort of assumed doppelgängers might be fictional, like vampires.”
“This would be one reason—”
“You keep urging me to finish my training. I know that. And I’ve been trying to play catch-up, but I keep getting derailed.”
“Chasing after murderers?”
“And dealing with whatever supernatural havoc comes my way, yes. So, seriously? Why would Sailor have a doppelgänger? And a homicidal one, at that?”
“I’m not saying he does, but it’s a possibility to consider.”
He started to read from the splayed book in his hands.
“The application of the German word is relatively recent; it might also be called a ‘fetch,’ or a ‘double walker,’ but all refer to the ‘apparition of a person living.’ Blah blah blah . . . The concept of alter egos and double spirits has appeared in the folklore of many cultures throughout human history. Most often they are considered harbingers of bad luck.”
“Oh, yay,” I said. “How come I’m never assaulted by harbingers of good luck?”
Aidan ignored me and kept reading. “The Norse vardøger precedes a living person and performs that person’s actions ahead of time. The Finns call theirs etiänen, or ‘firstcomer.’ In ancient Egyptian mythology a kaka was a spirit double with the same memories and feelings as the person to whom the counterpart belongs. But in most traditions, the doppelgänger is a version of the Ankou, or the personification of death.”
“You’re saying . . . Wait,” I said. “Are you saying that this is a sign that Sailor . . . that Sailor is going to die?”
“We all die, Lily,” Aidan said in a gentle voice.
“Yes, thank you. I realize that. But no time soon is what I was hoping. Is this doppelgänger a harbinger of Sailor’s death?”
He shrugged. “I’m not even saying it is a doppelgänger. Just that it’s a possibility. And if it is true, then it’s a sign.”
“A bad sign.”
He inclined his head.
“How do I stop it?”
“As always, that’s slightly more complex than simply identifying what you’re dealing with. With doppelgängers, in particular, if you attack them, it can be felt or shared with the original person.”
“I could hurt Sailor.”
“Possibly.”
I leaned back and let out a long sigh.
Aidan looked up from the page. “You okay?”
“It’s just . . . I have a wedding to plan. Also, I haven’t found my dress yet—in fact, I was supposed to preview an estate sale this afternoon, but instead I’m getting chased by doppelgängers and lugging my high-as-a-kite familiar around. Also, my fiancé is in lockup. I guess I’m feeling the pressure.”
“Not to mention the prophecy and the threat to San Francisco posed by Renee.”
I sneezed. “Yeah, that, too. Also, I think I’m getting a cold. I’ve never gotten one in my life.”
He gave me an odd look. “Are you feeling any other ill effects? Besides the sneezing?”
“Just tired. And I’m sort of stuffed up.”
“So your sense of smell has been affected?”
“A little.”
“That could be significant. You often sense things through scent, don’t you?”
I nodded. “So, back to the doppelgänger. If he’s an omen of”—I cleared my throat—“of Sailor’s death, then does it make sense that if I find a way to kill him without hurting Sailor, then Sailor will be okay?”
“Possibly. But if he isn’t a doppelgänger, then you’ll be the one sitting in jail facing murder charges.”
“Something in what you read rings a bell . . . ,” I said, reaching out and taking the book from Aidan. I skimmed over what he had read aloud. “Yes! Right here, it says the Egyptians call their version kaka. Tristan Dupree said kaka to me just last night.”
“You sure he wasn’t swearing at you?”
“At the time, I thought he was trying to say ‘cake.’ He ended up talking about cupcakes.”
“There’s a lot of that going around. Speaking of which, how did Oscar get ahold of Renee’s cupcakes?”
“She sent a box over.”
“Interesting.”
“Interesting how?”
“It sounds to me like an invitation. Which reminds me, I’m going to guess I’ve fallen off the guest list. I haven’t received a formal invitation to your nuptials. Unless . . .” His blue eyes flickered down to my bare hands. “Dare I hope you’ve come to your senses?”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I was never out of my senses. I lent my ring to Patience to help her distinguish between the real and fake Sailors. But to get back to your question, would you come to our handfasting?”
“Of course I would come.”
“Despite the fact that you dislike the idea so intensely.”
He looked at me for a very long moment. “I’ve made no bones about the fact that I think your involvement with Sailor is a bad idea. A terrible idea, in fact. I think you will be diminished by the relationship. And I had hoped for something different for you. For us.”
“Us?”
He nodded but did not elaborate. “However, you’ve made your decision and I will abide by it. I don’t believe I have any other choice. You are an important person i
n my life, Lily, and I want to maintain our connection. As your friend, I would like to be there to support you when you marry. Also, I am so looking forward to meeting your grandmother and her coven.”
“Well, in that case, consider yourself officially invited. But fair warning—my mother’s on that bus, too.”
“Is she? Mother issues.” He shook his head. “They’re tough.”
“Somehow it’s hard to imagine you with a mother.” For that matter, it was hard to imagine Aidan as a child. He’d been a blue-eyed, golden-haired mischief-maker in an angel’s guise, no doubt. “What’s she like?”
“She passed a long time ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. My condolences.”
“Thank you. As I said, it was a long time ago.”
“Still . . .” I tried to think of something else to say. Our gaze held for a long moment, until Noctemus jumped into Aidan’s lap, demanding attention. He stroked her, his large hand looking tan against her pure white fur. “So,” I said, changing the subject, “what can you tell me about silverfish?”
“Nothing I can think of. Why?”
“I found some in the shoe box from Germany.”
“You opened it, alone?”
“Patience helped me.”
“What else did you find within it?”
“Not much, actually. But there was a lachrymatory; do you think that could be the bēag Tristan was after?”
“It’s possible. As a small treasure, that would make sense.”
“It has the salts of tears, but I have no idea who it belonged to. Also, there was a watch. Speaking of which, I noticed the doppelgänger has a pocket watch. He stopped to check it, just before he stopped chasing us, and when he was leaving the hotel after killing Dupree.”
“A watch could be the bēag as well. Where is the box now?”
“In my apartment. It’s hidden, and protected.”
“I’d feel better if I could keep it here. It might not be safe at your place. You’ve been broken into before.”
“True. And Jamie—Renee’s errand boy who brought the cupcakes—he mentioned that Tristan had come to San Francisco to work with Renee. I’m not sure if I can trust what he says, but it was interesting.”
“It would make sense that Dupree was searching for the lachrymatory, to add to Renee’s collection.”
“It’s so bizarre. She keeps them right by her collection of silver spoons.”
“And that’s significant?”
I shook my head. “No. I just think it’s funny that she’s collecting the remnants of grief to increase her power, but keeps them in a little cupboard right alongside her collectible silver spoons. She’s such an unassuming adversary.”
“And yet not to be underestimated.”
“I know,” I said, feeling glum. My stomach growled.
Aidan looked amused. “Hungry?”
“I haven’t eaten in a while. It’s been an eventful day.”
“What you need,” Aidan said as he handed me my coat, “is a delicious cupcake.”
Chapter 19
We left Oscar snoozing in the corner of Aidan’s office under the watchful eye of Noctemus. My familiar was mumbling, “Fart goblin,” and chuckling to himself in his sleep.
As we drove across town, Aidan explained that ours was an exploratory mission.
“Most likely she’s just trying to mess with your head,” Aidan said. “Which, I might point out, she accomplished—admirably. Don’t be such an easy mark, Lily.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Also—and please note that I’m not telling you what to do—but did you honestly not anticipate that Oscar would go after the cupcakes in the Dumpster?”
“I underestimated him. I often do, I find.”
I noticed that Aidan’s glamour seemed to shimmer slightly, to be off in the glare of the late-afternoon sun. “Aidan, are you sure you’re all right going out this afternoon?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I, um . . . sometimes I see your glamour slip.”
He gave me a quick, sharp look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Renee once mentioned . . . She told me that you were looking for a fountain of youth. Was that true?”
He muttered something under his breath.
“Sorry?” I said.
“I said,” he replied, “that Renee has a big mouth.”
“Does that mean she was right? Is there such a thing as the fountain of youth?”
“Of course not,” he scoffed.
“Then . . . ?”
“She’s fishing, obviously. But the truth is, Renee knows that my powers have been diminishing over the past year or so. I’ve told you as much myself. That’s one reason why you and I need to work together, now more than ever, to secure the future of the city we love.”
“Why have your powers been diminishing?”
“That’s a conversation for another time,” Aidan said as he turned onto Renee’s street. “We’re here.”
We rolled past a now-closed vintage clothing store, Vintage Visions Glad Rags, whose owner had died not long ago. Renee had mentioned she wanted to expand her cupcake business into the site, but so far the clothing store remained closed, its fine inventory still crowding the unlit display windows, surely growing dusty by now. The memory of finding the owner, poisoned and paranoid, holding a gun came back with full force. It was a haunting image.
Again I wondered, if Renee gained the upper hand in the supernatural battle for control of San Francisco, would I have to leave town? Would Aunt Cora’s Closet be left like Vintage Visions Glad Rags, sad and dusty and falling to ruin?
Enough with the catastrophic thinking, Lily, I chided myself.
Aidan found a parking space around the corner from Renee’s bakery. As we approached, we saw the tiers of pretty iced cupcakes crowding the display windows, and inside three customers waited in line. Renee was behind the horseshoe counter, as usual, charming her patrons and chatting about what she liked to call her “fairy cakes.” I noticed the new product line that Maya had mentioned: One entire shelf was now dedicated to “savories,” such as meat pasties and vegetable cheese rolls.
Also on the counter behind Renee was a large tray of burned cupcakes, still steaming. I sniffed, trying to pick up any underlying scents—or even obvious ones like charred batter—beneath the overwhelming aroma of sugar and vanilla. But Aidan had called it: My sense of smell had been compromised. Last time I was here, I had sensed a very subtle putrid scent amid the delicious fragrances of baked goods.
One by one, the three customers were taken care of, each leaving the shop with a pink bakery box tied up with twine. Renee turned to me and Aidan, her eyes glittering.
“What a lovely surprise! Lily, it’s always such a pleasure! And you brought the mysterious and oh-so-difficult-to-pin-down Aidan Rhodes. From what I hear, Aidan, you rarely go out anymore. Are you feeling quite yourself these days? You look a mite peaked.”
“I feel fine, Renee. Thank you for asking,” Aidan responded, his eyes not leaving hers.
The staring contest went on for several moments. I noticed behind the register a pile of vintage-style fabric swatches and a basket holding spools of colored thread.
“That looks like fabric from Lucille’s Loft,” I said.
“Yes, I’m planning on coming to the Magical Match Tea on Sunday! Lucille’s making us dresses. Isn’t she just the most exquisite seamstress you’ve ever seen?”
“Who’s your match?” I asked.
“Now, just wouldn’t you love to know?” she cooed. “That’s a secret!”
“Did you decide on a fabric? The event is just around the corner.”
“Lucille assures me it is all under control.” She glanced at Aidan. “So sorry you can’t come, Aidan,
but it’s us girls only.”
“Actually, that’s not true,” I said. “The Welcome coven voted to allow anyone who wants to come with whatever match they want. The event is gender-inclusive.”
Renee tsked and made an exaggeratedly angry face, reminiscent of a toddler who didn’t get her way. I half expected her to stomp her heel. “Well, I don’t like that at all. This local insistence on everything being equal takes away the special, don’t you think? After all, men and women are not interchangeable. As we know very well, don’t we, Aidan?”
I had the sense she wasn’t talking about social norms.
“Renee, why did you send the cupcakes to Lily?” asked Aidan. “I assumed they were an invitation.”
“To her, not to you,” Renee responded.
“And yet we are here to speak to you together, a united force.”
“So I see. You know, Aidan, you really should relinquish your control over these young women,” Renee said. Her sweet, almost maternal mien was gone, replaced by steely-eyed ambition. “Lily could be so much more than she is, and Selena is ripe to become a powerful young woman. I think you’re afraid of the power they could wield without you and you’re holding them back.”
“With great power comes great responsibility—a lesson I fear you have yet to learn, Renee,” Aidan answered. “As for Lily and Selena, they make their own choices.”
“Just as in the case of that dear Calypso Cafaro? Would you say she made her own choices, Aidan?”
“We’re not here to speak about Calypso,” Aidan said.
“Oh, of course,” Renee said, looking at me. “We’re here to speak of some sort of unnamed ‘threat’ to your beloved San Francisco. Though why you think I’m any sort of threat is a mystery to me. After all, what’s wrong with trying the Renee way?”
“The Renee way?” I asked. “That’s a way?”
“It’s a lovely way!” She smiled. “Anyway, I’m just a humble cupcake baker. You two are the ones involved in murder and whatnot. It’s a shame, Lily, that your fiancé was involved with such an ugly thing.”
“He wasn’t,” I insisted.
She let out a quick laugh. “No? Strange that all the witnesses say otherwise.”
A Magical Match Page 18