by AE McKenna
My lungs hitched at her smile, and the beer took that moment to really hit. Not that I was drunk, not really, but I certainly felt warmer than I had a moment ago. “Have you heard from your mom?”
Luce tugged her phone out and shook her head. “Nothing from either of them. I’m really worried.”
“I have some news.” My chair became as hard as a rock and I couldn’t find a comfortable position no matter how much I shifted.
“Is that what the call was about?”
I nodded. “You’re not gonna like it.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “What is it?”
“We spotted Penny in the area when the Blarney Stone was stolen a few days ago.”
The color drained from her face. She stared at me, then shook her head. “That’s not—no. I mean—” She puffed out an aggravated breath. “She’s missing. You saw the house.”
“I did. But that only happened yesterday. You said you haven’t seen her for the better part of the week.”
“So just because she was in the same area, you assume she stole it?”
“You know she’s done that sort of thing before. It’s what she and Frankie did. Then that opal bracelet she gave you. It’s not a leap to think she stole the Blarney Stone when she was spotted in the area at the time of the burglary.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Yeah, it is, Lucy.”
She tossed her slice of pizza down with the rest of the pie and shook her head.
“When you spoke with her, did she say anything out of the ordinary? Anything about going overseas or clients?” I desperately needed to clear Penny from this crime, mostly because I didn’t want it to be me who ended up bringing Penny Avalon to justice. Pretty sure that’d ruin my friendship with Lucy. “Did she ask if you wanted to visit Ireland recently?”
“I haven’t had a genuine conversation with her since I found out about the heist in the Faelands a couple months ago,” she said in a tight voice.
“It isn’t much of a stretch she’s still at her old ways. Has she tried giving you things again to make up for—”
“How are you even sure it’s her?” Two red splotches stained her cheeks as she narrowed her eyes.
“The description matches her.”
She threw her hands in the air. “Lots of people have black hair. I look like her.”
Not in the least, but I understood what she was getting at. “Her smoke gave her away.”
Her brows knitted together. “Oh, come on. I’m sure there are plenty of people out there with that shade of green. How can you be so sure—”
“Yeah, there are plenty of people like that, but the odds are rather high in this particular scenario that it’s your mother.”
“This’s fucking bullshit,” she muttered. “You saw the house. You saw what was in the house and the warning. And you just want to leave her twisting in the wind? What about Mags? She’s missing, or do you think she helped Mom steal the stone, too?”
I reached out to cover her hand with mine, but she pulled back, glaring. That pissed me off. Lucy was blind when it came to her mother, even when the evidence was poking her in the nose. I wasn’t the bad guy here. “Don’t forget I’m a lightlighter, too. A cop. I have oaths to uphold. You asked for my help, remember?”
“I didn’t ask you to persecute her.” Her chin jutted out as she briskly drummed her fingers on the table. “You said that glyph we found in her notes was from Wales. Last time I checked, Ireland isn’t Wales.”
This wasn’t going the way I’d hoped. I drained half my beer, wiped my mouth, and exhaled. “I’m not persecuting her. I just want to help you, but you have to be open to the idea that there’s more to your mother beneath the surface.”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her mouth scrunched into a tight line, and she huffed. A lot. “She’s allowed to act strange around the first anniversary of Dad’s death.”
“She’s vulnerable,” I murmured. “Someone could be taking advantage of her. Or... maybe someone is framing her.”
She gasped, her gaze latching on mine. “You think so?”
“There are charms that could disguise someone to look like her…”
She pointed at me. “That’s probably it. Mom promised she was done with that stuff.”
“Right.” I didn’t believe it for a moment. You can’t disguise smoke, and she’d stolen that charm in Australia. Penny never had problems breaking her lightlighter vows like I had. Why would she have an issue breaking a promise to her devoted daughter? “Well, I’ll monitor the Ireland situation, just in case it gives us a clue to what happened to Penny.”
Luce’s shoulders relaxed, and she curled both hands around her pint glass. She gave me a shy smile. “Thanks, Mal. I’m sorry I blew up at you like that. I hate making excuses, but it’s been a really stressful twenty-four hours.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll always look out for you. But we should think about getting a hotel. You look beat and we have a big day of traveling ahead of us.”
“Are you trying to get me alone, Malware Tanaka?”
I snorted. “You’ve already eaten cheese on my bed. I think we’ve gone past ‘trying.’”
Lucy laughed and that warm beer buzz kicked in again. “Have I told you that you’re awesome today?”
“No, but I like hearing you say it.”
She grinned, but I couldn’t quite return it. Not when I just lied to her.
Chapter 8
The next morning, I followed Mal’s camouflaged twister across the Atlantic Ocean toward Wales. We’d have to travel across Ireland first. Without gold fever slowing me down and sapping my energy, crossing a major body of water was easier. It still felt like a slip-N-slide, and I didn’t understand how the road worked since there weren’t any castles, museums, or aquariums, but there were boundaries.
I grumbled. Mal had crossed the line by accusing Mom of stealing the Blarney Stone. Nothing in any of her recent files mentioned the Blarney Stone. Ten years ago, she and Dad had written an article for the travel journal when I was a teenager, but he’d never brought me back a charm from the actual castle. At least, I didn’t think he had. When I returned home, I’d sort through the charms my bottle had sucked up. If I still had a house.
I was pathetic. Mom had hypothetically admitted she and Dad were thieves, and Mal had said they were wanted by the bureau for grand larceny and fae trickery. I’d wondered if she had stolen the opal bracelet in Sydney, and now I knew she definitely had. But as soon as he suggested she was at it again, something inside me refused to believe it.
She’d promised. She never brought up my “curse” and she’d promised not to… Had she promised to stop stealing things? Racing across the ocean chasing a clue that might have nothing to do with her disappearance, I was suddenly unsure if it had been trouble that’d taken her and Mags, or if it was her own greed.
The tip of my twister hit land and I zipped by Mal standing on the stone-paved road. I rolled to a stop and blew away my smoke, turning back to him. He approached me, his lips tensed, his eyes slightly narrowed. He wasn’t happy, and I had to resist fanning myself. So angry men are my weakness. Big deal. But geeze, he really knew how to make my blood boil.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Just making sure you’re doing all right,” he said, his voice clipped.
“I’m fine.” I readjusted the messenger bag. “No issues here. I’d let you know if I needed something.”
His brows lowered. “Yeah, right.”
I scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just you have a tendency to keep quiet when you’re in danger.”
“What? I always ask for help.”
“Yeah.” He pursed his lips, dimples flashing. “Unless you’re in danger. Like when you were caught by a faery trap.”
I crossed my arms and jutted my hip out. “Yet here I am, just fine.”
“And here you are.” He rested his fists on his h
ips, frowning at me. “How did you really get out of the faery trap?”
“You don’t think I could’ve done that by myself?” I felt a headache coming on and inwardly groaned. It was the last thing I needed.
“No one should’ve been able to do that by themself, Lucy.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” I shrugged. “The mushrooms broke. Maybe my bad luck had something to do with it. I definitely cursed those dolls.”
He raked a hand through his dark hair. A lock fell across his forehead, and he blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine, don’t tell me. I just smoking hope you didn’t trade favors with a fae. I can’t help you with that.”
“Are you serious right now?” I asked through clenched teeth. “I’ve never lied to you. Why are you acting like this?”
“Because only fae can break faery traps!”
“But… I’m not fae.” Unless my parents were hiding another doozy about me. But no, I lived in the Iron Realm. I handled iron, and I had gold burns. “I’m not fae.”
“I know.”
“But I broke the faery trap. I promise—”
“I don’t think you understand why I’m concerned that you can break faery traps.” He began walking away. “Come on. We still have a ways to go before we get to Wales.”
Maybe there was something more to my magic than bad luck. Mouth dry, I grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop. “Why is it so bad that I can do that?”
Mal opened his mouth to speak but sighed instead. “It’s just one more secret we’ll have to keep from everyone.”
I deflated. I hadn’t expected that. “What secrets?”
“You’re an unregistered djinni, for one. Your parents make it worse—for many reasons. Plus, I know where your mother lives, who’s a fugitive—” He let out a huge breath, his cheeks puffing, and in a softer voice, “That I even know you has to be a secret.”
How was I supposed to respond to that? These were all valid secrets.
He squeezed my fingers. “Let’s get moving again.”
I called the smoke to me. The more I used it, the easier it came. I still felt the small tug of resistance, but I’d worked on being a djinni every day. Truth is, shifting to smoke is the coolest way to travel. I followed Mal, mulling over his words.
One more secret to keep. I rubbed the resin-encased four-leaf clover necklace, a good luck charm my father made to help counteract my bad luck. My power—my “curse”—was the entire reason my parents had betrayed the bureau. To protect me. Even Mal was going along with the secrets, so he must believe the danger was as grave as Mom claimed. It wasn’t like they were his secrets; I didn’t understand why it was his problem or why he was freaked out that I broke a faery trap. It hadn’t been me; it was my bad luck working against their magic. Whoever “they” were. This had happened to Supervillain Sigvald Strause, the Curator, and the Pit Boss. Why was this time any different? Maybe there really wasn’t anything special about my magic.
I lagged. Thanks to Mags, and now Mal, I thought of magic as a muscle that needed to be exercised. Since I hadn’t been using mine for my entire life, I grew tired easily. Keeping up with Mal was like trying to keep pace with someone who could run a six-minute 5K.
He slowed to a stop, his smoke drifting from him like tendrils of fog. I came to a stop beside him, dropping my twister like it was a hot potato, and plopped my hands on my hips, catching my breath.
“How’re you doing?” His dark upturned eyes swept over me like a disappointed gym teacher’s.
“Oh, you know. Swell.” I took a few breaths. “I’ll be ready to go in a minute or two.”
“Hey.” He gestured at a historical site sign. “Why don’t we step out, and you can catch your breath while you try calling Penny and Magdalena?”
I almost protested that I didn’t need that much downtime, but calling Mom and Mags was a great idea. “Yeah. Plus, I haven’t seen Ireland yet, so that’ll be cool.”
“Very cool.”
We approached the sign and Mal slid it open. Just as I was going to walk through, he laid a hand on my shoulder. “You’re doing awesome, Luce. It’s okay to take a break to catch your breath.”
I nodded and stepped through, pushing away the jitters in my heart at the encouragement. My ears plugged as we transitioned from the Lantern into the Iron Realm.
“What the hell?” I gaped at the stone skeleton of a building. Two-by-fours propped against windows, exposed brick, and a flag flying at the top of the scaffolding outside the building. “I thought this was a castle.”
“More of an outpost.” He approached a step of rolling stairs, wiggled it, then started climbing up. “C’mon. Let’s check it out.”
I followed him up the stairs, enjoying the view already. At first, I felt guilty for ogling his ass. I’d put him through enough of that. Then I remembered we didn’t have a djinni silk bond anymore, so I enjoyed myself.
We reached the top and I greedily took in my surroundings. A skinny road wound through barren trees, telephone poles, and around a super cute white house with an adorable yard. Beyond that were miles of fields under an overcast sky.
“Not much of a view.” He cast me an apologetic smile. “But this is technically part of a castle.”
I laid my hand on the stone and examined the rest of the building. It was going to be renovated. Why else would there be scaffolding everywhere? But right now, it felt like I was touching centuries of wind, rain, and snow. “This is pretty cool.”
He quirked a brow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “I don’t know when this was first built, but someone from then touched the same thing I’m touching today. It’s pretty cool.”
His slow and genuine smile gave me a buzz. He cast his eyes aside and nodded. “That’s a great way to think of it.”
I licked my lips, reminding myself I was annoyed with him and shouldn’t find him attractive right now. Forcing myself not to stare at him, I dug my phone out of my bag. My bottle had spit up my salt and pepper grinders too. I ignored it. Maybe we were both tired. I had a missed call from work, but that was it. I tried calling Mom, and it went to voicemail. The same thing happened with Mags’s phone too. My fingers flexed around my phone. Worry and fear colluded with doubt and suspicion. Please, please let them be okay. Please let Mal be wrong about Mom. I shook my head at Mal.
“Okay.” He pointed in a willy-nilly direction. “St. George’s Channel is just out of sight, but we’re close. We’ll cross that into Cardigan, Wales, then we’ll bear north until we reach Glandyfi Castle. That’s where we’ll head to Devil’s Bridge via taxi.”
“Is that castle like this one?”
“No, you’ll get a kick out of it.”
“Great!” I grinned. “Let’s go.”
“You up for crossing another body of water today?”
I paused. I was tired, but I wasn’t exhausted. “How big is the channel?”
He shrugged. “Like seven miles or so from here to where we’ll hit land.”
“Oh.” I waved a hand dismissively. “No sweat.”
He chuckled and gestured down the stairs. “After you.”
I climbed down and waited for him at the sign. After he peeled it open, I summoned my smoke and billowed back onto Archaeology Way. What felt like two beats of a heart later, we were gliding onto St. George’s Channel.
Normally I didn’t notice things like wind apart from my own when I traveled as smoke. But once I touched down on the watery slip-N-slide road to cross the water, a rush of howling wind buffeted my twister. It hit me from all sides, and if I wasn’t careful, I could fall off Archaeology Way. Possibly? No one had warned me something like that could happen, yet. Mom would have when we were crossing the fjords in Norway, but she’d only mentioned strong water currents would disrupt smoke, not falling off the damned road. I slowed some to keep some control. If it worked in a car, then why not as a magical blue tornado?
Low grumbling sounded over the shriek of wind. It reminded me of a pod of
angry whales. Mal slowed enough to keep pace with me. I couldn’t see his face, only the shadow of his body in his twister.
The slip-N-slide heaved. I crashed into him. I thought I felt fingers grip my shoulder, but I twirled away, trying to skid to a stop like I didn’t have brakes. How do you pump your brakes when you’re smoke?
A wind gale smashed into me, staggering me backward. Could I drop my smoke while crossing the channel? I wasn’t sure. The sky broke open, and rain poured from the heavens. Thunder rolled across the sky and lightning flashed, the sound vibrating in my chest.
I searched for Mal but the torrential rain came down in thick sheets, and the road rolled under my feet. I whimpered. This was worse than Mom’s driving.
The wind howled like an animal: low, grating, and coming from all directions. A gust lifted me off my feet, spun me around like a dreidel, and dropped me back onto the invisible road. I fishtailed across the expressway, trying to straighten again before I fell into the water. I slowed to a stop, my heart pounding. I peered through my twisting blue loops of smoke. Where was Mal? Was I headed in the right direction?
I whirled and caught sight of Mal running toward me. On foot. His black hair plastered to his head, his T-shirt molded to his chest, and his jeans soaked through. Huh. Well, that answered one question.
I let go of my smoke, noticing huge posts poking above the choppy waves. The wind, rain, thunder, and the squalling of whatever animal that was making the noise grew ten times louder. I ran to him.
“Is this normal?” I yelled over the wind.
“No!” He pointed at the posts. “Get on the pilings. We’ll use those.”
“Are you crazy?”
“It can’t whiplash the pilings like it can the road.” He placed his hand on the small of my back and propelled me toward the edge of the road.
Now that I wasn’t a twister, I could see the glittering outline of a path about ten feet wide stretched before and behind us.
“What thing?” I dug my heels in. “What are you talking about?”
“A sea bucca-dhu. Jump onto the pilings.”
I gaped from him to the pilings and back to him again. “What the hell is a sea bucca-dhu?”