by Ann Denton
“Someone in the crowd was trying to help me out.”
Flowers narrows his eyes.
“What about all the feathers?”
That’s when I notice the ground near me is littered with feathers.
I shrug. “Maybe someone in the crowd wore a boa?”
Ben turns to Jackie and slips his cuffs over her floating wrists. “You’re under arrest, for the murders of Bernard Bell and Mason McDonnelly.” The fight circle buzzes with this new tidbit. Phones start flashing as people take pictures.
Flowers heads off through the crush of people, creating a path.
Ben tries to pull Jackie down, but the pixie dust is too strong. So, he hooks his hand over the chain in her cuffs and leads her away through the crowd, like a big dumb parade float.
Chapter 23
“Show me again!” Becca demands.
I’m sitting on the side of her hospital bed, swiping through photos on my phone.
In the stall next door, Seena groans. “No! You’ve already seen them four times.” He’s still a horse (though not as pretty since he’s washed off his glam makeup). The docs say he needs to stay shifted until he heals. Couple more hours. They did magic up a stall next to Becca though, which he thought was nice. Until I showed up with photo-sabotage.
We’ve been laughing for half an hour.
“Please—” Seena starts.
“Shut up, boyfriend,” Becca retorts.
Seena’s head pops through the stall. He blows his bangs out of his eyes. “You mean it?”
She grins. “How could I turn down such a pretty face? Yeah. You can take me to dinner once you’re all better.”
He paws the ground, and winces.
“Calm down, big boy. You need to save your strength so we can play rodeo later,” Becca winks.
I cover my ears, “Ahhh! They’re burning!”
She gives me an apologetic shrug. I stand and slide over the box of cookies I brought her.
“You aren’t leaving?” she tosses out a pouty lip.
“Gotta get to a wedding,” I shrug.
“Ooh! I want pics of that too!” Becca squeals.
“Not so sure you do. The bride’s supposedly a monster.”
“For real? What kind? Gorgon? Chupacabra?”
“Nope. A nymph with a monster on the inside.”
“Gotcha. Well, thanks again for catching Jackie. Did Bennett ever text you back to say if she confessed?”
I pull out my phone as I head toward the door. “Nope. Not yet. Might still be questioning her.”
“She’ll confess,” Seena sounds sure of himself. “I suggested they put a camera in the room and tell her it was a live stream. She won’t be able to resist.”
I stick my hand in his stall and give his nose a pet. “Nice work, partner.”
“Did you a pick a date for the dance, Loser?”
I laugh. “I don’t tend to torture my dates. So, no. Tonight I’m stag.”
“And tomorrow?”
I glide out the door. “Bye, Seena!”
The Broomer drops me off at my apartment so I can get dressed. I toss on a pale blue midi dress with a low neckline and I’m finishing my makeup when there’s a knock at the door.
Bennett’s broad shoulders nearly span the door frame.
“Hey!”
“Hey,” his eyes sweep down my figure and harden. “Date?” The word comes out strangled.
“Nope. Going to a nightmare wedding to support JR.”
“JR’s getting married?”
“JR’s a bridesmaid for a demon.”
“What level?”
I sigh. I really need to just tell everyone Camila’s a shrew. “Not a demon-demon. A woman with no soul, who bosses around JR, changes wedding plans on a dime, and essentially should be banished to the depths of hell. Instead, she’s moving to Jersey with the new hubby.”
“Basically equivalent.”
I shrug. “So, what’s up? Jackie confess?”
“Yup. Asked for makeup to touch her face up and gave a full confession to the camera.”
I offer him a high five. “Nice work, boss.”
He doesn’t hit my hand. He looks at it like it hurts. “Is that what we are now? Am I just your boss?”
I bite my lip. I wasn’t ready for this confrontation. But it’s here. He’s pushing it again. “I’ve already told you twenty times, I need space.”
“But you’re dating Luke.”
“I went on one date.”
“But if he asks …”
I stare up at Bennett. And here’s my problem. “You aren’t giving me space Bennett.” He opens his mouth to argue. I hold up a hand to stop him. “You can do it for a couple days, sure. But then you come back and bug me. And make it uncomfortable. Make people like Flowers think I’m using you to get ahead.”
“I can’t stand it for more than a few days because I love you, Lyon!” He hits the doorjamb.
That just pisses me off. “Yeah, well I had to stand it for two years while you went and fought your clan and did whatever you needed to do. And I didn’t even get the courtesy of knowing you cared.”
“It’s not the same.”
“And there it is. You don’t respect that this is important to me.”
“I do! I helped you prove yourself on this case. This is the second killer you’ve caught, Ly. And God, when you’re on fire, linking up the evidence, it’s so hot. I don’t know how you expect me to control myself.”
I don’t respond immediately, and Bennett’s tone gets hesitant. “You do think it’s hot, right?”
I shake my head. “You’re missing the point.” I grab my purse from the side table. I take out my keys. “I have to go.”
Bennett steps back onto the landing. “So, that’s it?”
“If you can’t give me what I want, that’s it.” I lock my door and march to the stairs.
“So you’re dating the vampire?”
“Yup.”
I hear the rip of clothing behind me. I turn on the stairs just as Bennett launches his dragon form into the sky. My heart lurches. But my head stands firm. I don’t want to hurt him. But I do care about my own integrity. Jacob said I needed a cheerleader. But I don’t just want someone who cheers me on when I’m clever. I want someone who cheers me on when I’ve decided to do something crazy. Something hard. Because I think it’s good for me. Because I think it’s what’s right.
I run back up and collect Ben’s torn clothes—wouldn’t look good for an investigator to get in trouble for public shifting. I toss them in the trash.
Getting drunk sounds good right now. So, I head to the wedding.
The Oaks is a sprawling estate run by dryads. Camila’s wedding is in the largest ballroom. Lush moss covers the ground. Marble columns reach thirty feet into the air to hold up a glass ceiling. Purple clematis and wisteria adorn the walls and make the room smell of summer, even though outside the trees are losing leaves. Orbs of yellow light and floating candelabras cast a soft glow on the room. The paper cranes weave throughout the room. Overall, the effect is beautiful, just slightly marred by the occasional crane going kamikaze into a candle.
“Lyon!” Mrs. Snow is resplendent in a white suit encrusted with rhinestones, a pattern matched by the mini-wings she wears on her back. She hugs me.
“Made yourself a new set? They look nice.”
She grins. “A little last minute, but I do think they turned out pretty nice—oh my lord, do you see that girl?” Mrs. Snow nods toward a woman clad in a form-fitting silk suit. “Her pants are so tight I can see her religion!”
I choke. I die. I grab the goblin next to me and laugh in his face. Oh, Mrs. Snow! She has no idea what a godsend she is.
When I’m back in control, I ask her, “Where’s Tabby?”
“Didn’t you see?” Mrs. Snow nods to a row of benches at the front of the room. I squint. And then my eyes go as wide as saucers. Tabby’s on the front bench, the one reserved for family. And she’s not in human fo
rm. She’s a cat. Sitting right next to her? Max the Cat.
“Camila forgave JR just about anything when she saw JR brought a City Councilor to her wedding,” Mrs. Snow confides.
“How is JR?”
Before she gets a chance to answer, a satyr pan-flute group starts to play. We have to take our seats.
The wedding is … just like every other wedding. Vows and wet eyes and a cheer at the kiss. I don’t know why Camila’s spent so much on it when it’s the same as every other wedding I’ve ever been to … until they serve the food. Mmm. I wish I’d brought a bigger purse.
After three drinks, even JR is starting to enjoy herself. We head out to the dance floor and I’m sorry to say, Sarah Snow put us all to shame.
I flit up the stairs to my house, tipsy and semi-contented. I still feel bad about Bennett. But after the drunken reassurances of Tabby, Sarah Snow, JR (and even a drunken Max the Cat shouting, “Girl, you need to tap that vamp ass!”) I kinda feel like I made the right choice.
I unlock the door, super glad drunk me didn’t slip into old habits and lose my keys.
I’m barely inside before my phone buzzes.
I miss you.
I have to double check the sender. Yes, I’m that drunk. It’s from Luke.
Miss you too.
I got something for you.
Yeah? What is it?
You’ll have to wait and find out.
I groan.
I want it now.
Just then, there’s a knock at my door. I skip (okay, fine, I trip) over to the door, ecstatic. I pull it open.
But it’s not Luke. It’s a delivery man. He stares boredly at me. “Lyon Fox?”
“Yup.”
“These are for you,” he hands over a white bakery box. OMG. Luke, keys to my heart. Keys to my heart. I bring them to the kitchen counter and open the box.
Two dozen frosted heart cookies nestled in wax paper. Alternating pink and red. My eyes blur. I swipe at them.
I grab a cookie. And scream.
I drop it.
Because as soon as I touched the cookie, a symbol appeared on top of the frosting. A black tombstone surrounded by a circle.
The symbol of the Crypts.
A Personal Note from Lyon Fox
Hey!
Whoa! That was crazy, right?
What the heck is going on? Why did Luke send me those cookies?
Help me out here people. I'm freaking out. I need like Facebook photos of kittens and stuff so I can calm down. Friend me and send them on over. Stat.
I seriously have never been so upset in my whole life. What am I going to do? (That bee of an author says I don't get to find out what I'm gonna do until Halloween, when book 3 comes out.) NOOOOOO! How am I gonna survive that long?
Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo—that's my sucky yoga breathing technique. It’s not working.
Do you think cat pictures will be enough?
What about embarrassing stories? Those might help my anxiety with a distraction strike. (What? That’s totally a psychological technique, right?) Tell me your relatives most embarrassing moments. With pseudonyms, of course—author lady’s poking me and whispering words like ‘libel.’ I know that shizzle. I was a paralegal. Hello! (She’s so annoying.)
Anyway, find the Ann Denton page on Facebook. I hang out there. Maybe together we can harass that cruddy author into giving up tidbits from book 3.
Ly
The Lyon Fox Mysteries
1. Magical Murder - Available Now
2. Enchanted Execution - Available Now
3. Supernatural Sleep - Available Now
About the Author
I’m at Stay at Home Bookkeeper for my husband and Stay at Home Mom to two wonderfully mischievous children under age 6. I write after bedtime, so I suppose I should thank the creators of Melatonin for the ability to write this book. Just kidding. Sorta.
I love the arts: painting, theatre, and reading. I have an undergrad degree in Playwriting and a grad degree in Theatre History. Socrates rocks my socks.
I’m an INTJ. If you’ve never taken a Meyers Briggs personality test, I recommend them.
I would love to talk to you about the book. Yes you. You can ask me questions on Facebook. If you sign up for my newsletter on my website, I’ll email you about upcoming books.
[email protected]
www.AnnDenton.com