by Tegan Maher
Bob wiped off the bar in front of me and tossed down a coaster. "Lime water or beer?"
"Beer, please, and a grilled cheese with bacon and tomato." Just the thought of the cheesy, bacony deliciousness made my mouth water.
Colin raised a brow. "No salad, squeeze of lemon, hold the dressing?"
"Oh, hell no," I said. "I prefer salads exactly where they were meant to go—on top of a burger."
He grinned, and for the first time ever, I saw the incorrigible gleam I was used to seeing in the eyes of werewolves. "My kinda girl."
Bob laughed. "Better hold off on that. She's not kidding. I tried to sneak a fry off her plate once and about took an elbow to the nose. She doesn't play."
"In my defense, I was raised with four brothers and an older sister, and two of my werewolf cousins were there half the time, too," I said. "I learned early to throw an elbow if I didn't want to starve."
Colin about choked on his beer. "Did you say you have werewolf cousins? As in, blood relatives?"
"Yeah," I said, narrowing my eyes. Many paranormals frowned on mixed-species relationships, and I was about to throw down. I loved my oddball family. "I have five werewolf first cousins. One of them, Cori, is half witch, half were, and is alpha of her regional pack, and sheriff, too."
His eyebrows shot up. "Oh wow. I know your family. But just so you know, I was only surprised, not judging."
I realized I was probably being a little too sensitive, so I changed the subject. "I have to say, you've done a complete one-eighty today. What gives? Two days ago, you were broody and frowny, and now you're, well, not."
He pulled in a deep breath. "A couple things. I was wrapping up a huge case for a client. I really needed to be there to handle it, but since I couldn't, I had to do it online. It didn't start well, and it didn't get any better as it went."
He glanced at Bob. "Thus the failure to laugh at your mostly funny jokes. The one about the unicorn and the cyclops in the bar though? Horrible, man."
I smothered a laugh. That was Bob's favorite joke, but Colin was right. It was bad.
Bob scowled. "You were probably so buried in work, you just didn't hear it right."
"Oh no, I heard it. It was so bad my beer went flat. But the one about the priest, the rabbi, and the merman? Priceless."
That put the smile back on Bob's face. "Yeah, that's one of the ones you actually half smiled at."
Tempest hopped up on the cooler in front of Bob and introduced herself. Out loud. I cocked a brow at her.
"What? I can speak whenever I want, but it's exhausting hearing the oohing and ahing. It's bad enough when I don't speak, but Lord almighty, every time I open my mouth, it's like nobody's ever heard a talkin’ fox from the South. I kinda wanna punch 'em in the throat. Or bite them on the calf."
Colin glanced at me. "Your familiar, I assume?"
Tempest scowled at him. "See what I mean? I'm right here."
"She's even meaner than Destiny," Bob told him. "I never thought I'd be afraid of a twenty-pound anything, but Tempest lives up to her name."
Our food arrived, saving us from any more ranting. Tempe and I were alike in more ways than one. I gave her a quarter of my sandwich and a few fries, and we settled into the business of eating.
I cringed a little when Colin offered her a couple onion rings, because onions gave her gas. When it came to flatulence, that little fox could give a skunk ape a run for his money. I glared at her, but she just smirked and popped one of them into her mouth. She found it hilarious when she gassed me out of our room.
While we munched, we discussed the murder in general, gossipy terms until he asked about the gargoyles.
"I don't know," I said. "They started coming around a couple months ago. They show up every couple of weeks, and Cass covers whatever they want. They’re rude, crude, not too bright. Not to give him too much credit, but I was surprised Cass had anything to do with them. He thought he was better than everybody and didn't bother to hide it."
"Who are they?" he asked.
I lifted a shoulder. "No clue. I don't think I ever heard him call them by name. Cass comped everything, so I've never run a credit card on them."
I thought hard on it for the next few minutes, then decided to share what Margo'd told me, though I left her name out of it.
"So do you think it was possible that's when the essence came in?" he asked.
"Maybe," I said. "As far as I know, Cass wasn't going anywhere, so that was an odd thing for them to say. I'm waiting to hear back from my brother. He ... has a finger on the pulse of the seedier side of our world."
He shifted his weight. Something passed over his face too quickly for me to catch it, but Bob said something before I could call him on it.
"Cass was just a bitter, angry bully all around," my lumbering friend said. "If he weren't an angel, I wouldn't be so surprised somebody helped him check out early."
"Yeah, the only people he actively avoided offending were other angels," I added. "But even then, he only managed that because he avoided them altogether whenever they'd stop by."
Bob placed a glass of lime water in front of me. "She's right. The resort founders came as a group a few years ago just to check on things and brought their wives and kids. Cass remembered all of a sudden that he had important business somewhere off-resort, and I suspect it's because one of them was Arariel."
In case you're not up on your angels, Arariel is the Angel of Water, and he liked to pop in every couple of months. The resort was a pet project of his. I'd been more than a little intimidated the first time I'd heard he was coming. I mean, hello—angel. Not like disgraced-angel Cass but a full-fledged member of the winged super-society.
Despite what you may have heard, angels are neither inherently good nor evil, nor are they perfect—Cass was proof of that.
But the selection process for those positions had been rigorous, unanimous decisions made by the entire bank of existing angels. Only a few that I knew of had gotten on the naughty list, so I wasn't sure how Cass had managed to scrape under the limbo stick in the very beginning.
Colin crinkled his brow, confused. "But Arariel is awesome. He's the one who worked with the sea folks to get the water borders up for the resort."
Just like there were mirages used to keep non-magical people from entering via land, there were water and air boundaries, too. Those charms were much more intricate than the cliff mirages.
I laughed, thinking back to when I was still a noob at the resort. "The first time I heard Arariel and the other founders were coming, I was a train wreck. This really cool surfer guy had been there with some friends all week, and I got the news while I was waiting for Bob to make them all drinks. I made it to the cabana but was so rattled, I tripped over a cabana peg and the tray went flying. Thankfully, somebody was able to freeze it before the whole thing landed right in a girl's lap."
"Oh yeah," Bob said, chortling. "I remember that day. I've never seen you discombobulated."
Tempest snorted. "A hot mess is what she was. She's waited on every head of state from the Queen of England to the Queen of Faerie, yet one angel and a bunch of rich folks had her all in a tizzy."
Colin was smiling. "So did your customers get mad because you spilled their drinks?"
"Worse," I said. The memory still made me blush. "After I explained why I was such a klutz, they introduced themselves using first and last names. The surfer dude's name was Ari."
A look of dawning crossed his face. "Ari. Arariel. And his friends?"
I pressed my lips together and nodded. "Some of the other founders."
He laughed at me, and I couldn't help but smile back. "We'd had a blast all week, and I'd had no idea. They thought it was hilarious but took pity on me and laughed with me rather than at me. And they left me a huge tip. The point is, though, Cass took vacation that week. Ari comes around every couple of months, and whenever he does, Cass disappears."
Bob rubbed his chin. "You know, I'd forgotten about that day. I wonder
how much it played into you getting your job back? If Ari stood up for you, I bet that really pissed Cass off."
He had a point. But oh well. Cass was his own worst enemy, and I refused to feel bad about it.
“Wait,” I said, Colin’s words sinking in. “How do you know Ari?”
He made a point of studying his plate. “I’ve met him a few times. Business.” That seemed to be all I was gonna get, and I opted to leave it alone. I couldn’t see how it mattered anyway.
We ate quietly for a few minutes, and I turned things over in my head. I'd asked Colin about his complete change of personality for a reason. He seemed like a nice guy—now—but it was a bit convenient that he only became Mr. Personality after the murder. As much as I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, that had rarely worked out for me.
My phone dinged with an incoming text from Michael when I was almost done eating.
M: We'd love to see you! Angelo's? 10 tomorrow?
I was surprised yet pleased. I loved my brother, but he wasn't exactly an exclamation-point kinda guy. Something more along the lines of OK, tomorrow, 3pm, town square would have been more up his alley. I didn't know if it was because his job had hardened him or he was just naturally a man of few words.
I figured it was probably a combination, because he'd been serious as a kid, too. Even when it came to practical jokes, he'd been sort of a buzzkill, because even on the rare occasion we managed to get one over on him, he never reacted. He just got even.
Regardless, he was my favorite brother because underneath the hard exterior, he was a marshmallow—and fiercely protective—at least when it came to me and Tempest. Even though Angelo's catered to a rough crowd—it was in Abaddon's Gate, after all—they had a great lasagna, so I was in.
D: See you then.
I relayed the message to Tempest via our mental link, and though she tried to play it cool, I knew she was excited.
I was a little disappointed when Colin quieted down a little then called it an early night. I picked through our conversation, trying to think of anything I may have said to offend him, but nothing jumped out at me.
When he left, I watched him go—don't judge—and was surprised to see Cass's merry band of gargoyles sitting at their regular table. They were staring at me intently, the light from the tiki torches flickering in their beady eyes. A sliver of ice slid down my spine. I went to the restroom, and when I came back, they were gone.
"Elena, how long were those gargoyles sitting there?"
She shrugged. “An hour or so. They came right after you sat down with yummy wolf boy." She wrinkled her nose. "It's a shame they smell like wet dogs, because some of them are F-I-N-E, fine."
I grinned, thankful for once that I didn't have that heightened sense of smell. I wish I had the hearing though, because maybe I'd have heard Cass's stony cronies.
My bigger worry, though, was had they heard me?
It was almost closing time, so I hopped up to help Bob and Elena clean up, telling them about the Gorgon spy so they’d be ready.
I was counting Bob's drawer when Blake's text notification sounded from my phone. I cringed and glanced around to make sure we were alone, because it wasn't exactly nice. I was relieved to see we were but dreaded opening it up. I pulled up my big-girl undies and did it anyway.
B: We need to talk
D: We really don't
B: C'mon Des. It's not what you think. It's work
D: Yeah OK Not my business. I'm going to Abaddon's Gate tomorrow, just FYI. I'm off but should be back by early afternoon to help if they need me.
B: Be careful. And we really do need to talk about work when you get back
D: Ok
I sighed and shoved the phone back into my pocket. That was a conversation I was looking forward to about as much as if I were having a tooth drilled.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I SET MY ALARM FOR seven the next morning because if I had to leave the resort, I wanted to grab some supplies while I was out. We had plenty of stores on-site, but some things, including hair products and cold cereal—one third of my sustenance—were crazy expensive.
The more I thought about Michael's text, the more my bullshit meter screamed. He just wasn't that bubbly. I was going to feel like a real jerk if I turned out to be wrong, but Tempest agreed.
"As much as I'd like to think he was just sharin' the love, you and I both know he's not all sunshine and roses. I vote we browse the shop directly across the street and watch for him to get there first."
That was pretty specific, and I dug through my mind to figure out what was there. When I did, I laughed. "You just want chocolate-covered bacon."
ChocoLatte was a funky coffee and candy shop, owned and ran by a man who was both a chocolatier and a java connoisseur.
"Maybe," she said, "but you can't argue that it's not the best vantage point."
No, I could not.
"I'd like to stop and see Calamity, too." Calamity was her sister and was my friend Mila's familiar.
"Yeah, I was already planning to stop there. We haven't seen them in a while."
She smiled and trotted along beside me as I slung my backpack over my shoulder. We decided to walk to the north gate, which was the closest exit, rather than teleport. Nobody could teleport onto or away from the resort for security reasons.
The weather was beautiful, and between the sound of the ocean and the cry of the gulls, I was happy and peaceful. Only a little of the shine was dulled by the prospect that somebody may have set me up.
After all, Michael had one of the most secure lines on the planet. The PCIB didn't do anything by halves, so I knew he hadn't been hacked. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling something wasn't right, and I'd learned a long time ago never to ignore my gut.
The border was marked by red flags that fluttered in the breeze perpendicular to the water. It was see-through on our side; the flags were the only thing that gave it away. The only thing off was a door standing all by itself several yards above the high-tide line.
Much like an amusement park, you could leave any time you wanted, but you had to go through an exit, and you had to have a passcode to get back in. It was just another layer of security in place to protect all guests at the resort. There were emergency lockdown measures in place so that if need be—such as when Julius's skin came up missing—nobody could come or go from the resort.
There were two ways to exit the resort—you could simply walk through any of the gates if you wanted to teleport, or you could use the banks of ports (earth and sea) in the main hotel.
Those led to hundreds of locations around the world; there was a portal in almost every major city, including many in the oceans to accommodate water folks.
Employees had the luxury of simply porting to one of the gates and using our fingerprints to get back in. It sounds complicated, and I'm leaving out a lot of details and exceptions, but think of it as the magical version of Disneyland—one entrance, a few exits, many ways to get there, and you couldn't get in without a pass of some sort.
So, once I got to the exit, I crossed through the door, picked up Tempest, and pictured a little boutique a street over from ChocoLatte in Abaddon's Gate.
Though it was a dangerous place, Abaddon's Gate was like many cities struggling not to succumb to the darker side of its society. Because it was a city for paranormal people only, it was utterly unique. There were street vendors and shops that sold everything from designer clothes to real voodoo dolls, and like Bob said, if you knew where to look and who to ask, you could find almost anything.
I stopped at a street booth and picked up a new case for my cell to replace the one I'd broken a couple days before. My magic messed with it some, and the protective case kept my energy from screwing with it as much. Otherwise, I had to charge it a couple times a day, and reception would get spotty.
It only took a minute, but Tempest was squirming in my arms.
"Knock it off, or I'm going to set you down," I said, frowning as I tr
ied to keep from dropping her. She hated to walk on the street because of the grime, and to be honest, I couldn't blame her. The streets seemed to always be wet, and the faint smell of stagnant water—among other scents—clung to the place.
The air was also scented with the aromas of fresh-baked bread, cooking meat, roasting veggies, candy, coffee, or whatever emanated from other shops in the immediate vicinity.
It wasn't even nine yet, so I decided to do some shopping. Like most people I knew, I bought the majority of my clothes at Walmart or Target. However, there were some things, such as the phone case that blocked paranormal energy, they just didn't carry.
Hair-care products were another great example. There was nothing in the human world strong enough to manage my curls, but I'd found a product made by a witch a couple streets over that kept the frizz away, no matter what, and she carried a non-clumping, waterproof mascara that actually lived up to its hype. You just can't do either one of those without at least a dab of magic.
Mila owned her own magical version of Bath and Body Works. She had candles, lotions, soaps, bath potions, liniments, supplements ... you name it. She was a hearth witch, and a damned good one. If you had a problem, physical or mental, chances were good she had something that would help.
The bell above her door was spelled to be cheerful; a light charm to lift your spirits when you came in. She said it worked both ways—she got to make people happy, and they weren't as prone to be hateful to her.
I couldn't even tell you how many times I'd wished for a bell like that when I'd had mean guests, but I would've probably whacked them with it rather than rung it for them. Despite what Blake and Bob seemed to think, I was not the poster child for patience, good will, temperance, or any other virtue. Well, maybe loyalty.
Before I pushed inside, a flicker of black caught my eye, and I swung my head to see a woman looking at a Paranormal People magazine at a stand across the street. As engrossed as she seemed to be, she'd been at a vendor across from the cell phone case booth, too.
I watched her for a minute, but she simply bought the magazine after chatting with the vendor for a second, then walked away.