The phone rang, interrupting Sunny’s fulsome description of her nocturnal callers.
“How the hell did I sleep through all that? I am so jealous!” I shot her a look of disgust as I glanced down at the caller ID, noting with surprise that it was Hannah. Hannah always waited until she saw me to ask questions about her paperwork. There was only one reason she ever called me. I groaned.
“Good morning, Hannah! How are you?” I asked, feigning cheerfulness.
The call waiting beeped. It was Cindy. I ignored her, wondering if her ears were about to start burning.
“Sydney—so nice to hear your voice! I am doing fine, thank you. How are you? Did you have a good weekend?” Hannah asked.
Now there was a loaded question. “Uh, I kept busy. And you?”
“Very nice, very nice. An old flame flew in from Paris for the weekend—we had quite a lovely time together,” she said, her voice filled with smiling innuendo.
Great. Apparently I was the only one who wasn’t getting any.
“It would have been nice if he could have stayed longer, toutefois c’est la vie, yes?”
“I suppose so,” I chuckled.
“Oui,” Hannah sighed dramatically. “Well, perhaps you know why I am calling, Sydney. Cindy is now three weeks behind on her payments. I hate to bother you at home, but she does not take my calls, and I know you speak with her often. Will you please mention it to her? Even a partial payment would be helpful, with business such as it is.”
“I’ll mention it to her, Hannah, but you know D.J.D.—they never seem to have enough money to go around.”
“Yes, I know,” she said with a sigh. “Well, thank you, Sydney. I will see you later this afternoon?”
“Yes, I’ll be by before you close,” I answered.
“Very good. I have a gift for you,” Hannah said, her voice perking up.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Hannah,” I argued.
“Oui, but I want to. So I will see you later then. Au revoir!”
She hung up before I could say another word, leaving me with an uncomfortable feeling closely approaching guilt. I knew it wasn’t my fault that D.J.D. wasn’t paying her, but whenever she asked me to talk to Cindy about it, I felt like it was. The fact that she was nice enough to get me a present just made me feel worse.
“What doesn’t Hannah have to do?” asked Sunny, interrupting my disgruntled musings.
I looked up to find her still lounging in the doorway, with a smile that wouldn’t quite disappear, and the boneless fluidity of someone who’d just had a really good, really long massage. I shook my head and repressed a wave of longing and jealousy. Maybe turning those incubi down hadn’t been such a brilliant move after all. Oh, well—at least I still had my frog vibrator. Joy.
“She says she has a gift for me when I come by this afternoon.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I wonder what it is. I hope it’s not a bottle of her perfume.” She grimaced, but a sip of coffee quickly renewed her contented smile.
“I don’t know. I wi…I mean, I’d prefer it if she wouldn’t do stuff like that, though.”
Sunny’s smoky green eyes sparkled with laughter. “Good save, Syd. And why? I think you should accept a gift when it’s offered, and simply enjoy it.”
“I’m sure you do,” I smirked.
Sunny blew me a kiss.
The phone rang and I saw that it was Cindy again. Better answer it or she’d start to get frantic. “Okay, time to go back to work,” I said, rising from the bed and shooing Sunny ahead of me as I jogged toward my dining room/office. Our habitual morning Salsa pulsed softly from the flat-screen’s speakers as I passed.
“Hello?” I said, answering the phone just before it rang to voicemail as I dropped into the chair in front of my laptop. We’d already been through the morning banking, so I waited with baited breath to see what other delights Cindy had in store for me today.
“Oh, Sydney! Good—you finally picked up. I need you to go online and check Mickey’s bank account to see if a deposit’s come in,” Cindy rattled off, sounding panicked.
As I typed in the bank site, Leslie’s hateful voice pierced the waiting silence.
“THAT MONEY BETTER BE IN THAT ACCOUNT. THE CUT-OFF TIME FOR BETTING ON THE RACE IS NOON.”
“Did you find it yet?” Cindy asked me anxiously.
“It’s coming up now,” I assured her. “Let’s see. The balance is…$50,000.00.”
Wow—where had that come from? On second thought; I didn’t want to know.
“Oh, good!” Her relief was palpable. “IT’S THERE, MR. HOROWITZ,” she reported cheerfully. A grunt of response sounded from somewhere nearby.
“There’s this new sports betting site—maybe you could check it out for me,” she suggested. “Let me see…where did I put that web address?” I heard her rustling through papers in the background.
I made a face, and then said in a pleasant tone, “While you’re looking, I have a few things to go over with you. Hannah has been asking me about her payments. She says they’re three weeks overdue now, but that anything you can give her would help. I also wanted to remind you that the electric bill has to be paid this week or they’ll turn the lights off. And we got another ‘Final Notice’ from the IRS…”
“Never mind, I’ll just look the site up later,” Cindy interrupted. “Maybe we’ll hit it big at the track today!” she added, presumably in response to my concerns. “Just remind me about the electric bill again before the end of the week. Gotta go!”
Ah, Cindy. So predictable, it almost wasn’t even fun anymore.
I looked up to find Sunny sitting on the couch, absorbed in whatever her laptop screen had to offer, as she blew on steaming mug of black jet fuel number three.
“I need to talk to Lorien about the stuff we found out yesterday,” I announced.
“I thought we were going back to work,” she said distractedly.
“Well, what’s the fun of working from home if you don’t play hooky every once in a while? Besides, I’m reasonably caught up at the moment, so my time will be better spent figuring out how to save my soul. If I lose that, somehow I don’t see myself keeping my job.”
“Good point,” she agreed, taking one last look at her screen and then relegating her computer to the coffee table. “Studying ancient terms was getting tedious anyway. I can seize the day without Latin.” She pulled Jasper into her lap, who complained at first, but then nestled in and began purring in response to her stroking. “So, how do we call Lorien?”
“Not entirely sure, but I have an idea,” I grinned. “I WISH…” I began loudly. I immediately erupted into a sneeze, and then held my breath as I waved away a warning cloud of red faerie dust.
“Sydney! You know you’re not supposed to say that!” Lorien chided.
“Impressive. It’s like you have your very own faerie doorbell,” Sunny chuckled.
Lorien’s tilted violet eyes narrowed. “Meaning you tricked me?”
My wince of guilt answered her question.
“Of all the sneaky, underhanded…what if I’d been in the middle of something important?” she demanded. “Haven’t you ever heard of the girl who cried ‘troll’?”
Sunny snickered.
“I’m sorry, Lorien,” I said, instantly contrite. “But I had to talk to you and I didn’t know how else to reach you. I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t important.”
Lorien glowered at me and muttered something about ungrateful, lumbering humans. “What is it then?”
“Well, I came across some information yesterday—with regard to the goblin that supposedly gave Balthus the unaligned soul,” I said carefully.
“Did Agent Sparrow find something?” Lorien asked sharply. “He’s supposed to keep me posted!”
“No, it wasn’t Sparrow. It was someone else.”
“Who else do you know that would know anything about goblins?” she scoffed. Then she looked at me hard, something akin to alarm straining her featur
es. “Who have you been talking to, Sydney? Not another death djinn—you know they can’t be trusted!”
“No, nothing like that,” I assured her quickly. “It was a human, but I promised not to reveal her identity.” Oops—there went half the possible population.
“Her?” Lorien repeated. “And how do you know she was human? There are female death djinns, you know. And they’re just as underhanded as the men—maybe more!”
I sighed in frustration and glanced at Sunny for support. “Oh no, I don’t wanna be in the middle of this. Besides, I thought Lorien just magically knew about everything you did.” She wrinkled her nose and went back to stroking Jasper. The white tip of his fluffy, black tail twitched as he gazed unblinkingly at the faerie.
Lorien blew out an irritated breath. “I do not spend every minute of my life watching Sydney. I sense when she’s in imminent danger, and I look in on her from time to time to help her out.”
I gave an impatient wave of my hand. “Trust me; I’m pretty sure this woman was human. And even if she wasn’t, you know I didn’t slip up and say anything I shouldn’t have, or you would have shown up with your sneezing powder.”
“Faerie. Dust. And what’s with the sudden secrecy?” Lorien exploded. “I’m your faerie guardian—I’ve been trying to help you out of this mess from the beginning!”
I chewed my lip, debating internally. I didn’t like keeping secrets from her. “Alright. I guess I didn’t promise not to tell you—but I did promise not to reveal her identity to the Seelie police. That means you can’t tell Sparrow, okay?”
Lorien shook her head at me in disbelief. “I can’t promise you that, Sydney. If you’ve discovered something that will impact Agent Sparrow’s investigation, we have to tell him.”
I let out an annoyed huff. “Of course I wouldn’t keep anything important from Sparrow! I just can’t tell him who gave me the info. And if you can’t promise not to tell him who she is, then I can’t tell you either. But I’m betting when you hear the story, you’ll agree he doesn’t need to know anyway.”
Lorien sighed in agitation. “Sydney—what have you gotten yourself into now?”
“Nothing—Sunny and I just went on a little information reconnaissance. Now, promise me you won’t tell Sparrow and I’ll tell you all about it.” I grinned.
“Fine,” Lorien agreed, the word coming out on a breath of aggravation. “I’ll keep your secret. You know my first priority is to protect you.”
“Thank you,” I said in a more penitent tone.
I moved to the loveseat and settled into the cushions before beginning the story. Lorien floated to a seat on the glass edge of the coffee table in front of me. “The woman’s name is Ophelia; Balthus told me about her. Apparently, she traded her soul to him a couple hundred years ago. And she was with him the night he won the unaligned soul from the goblin.”
“When did Balthus tell you about this woman?” Lorien asked with a frown.
“When I spoke with him at the prison. He made me swear not to tell the police about her—and when you hear what she’s like, you’ll see why it wouldn’t do any good for them to interview her anyway. She already told me everything she knows about the goblin—and it wasn’t much.”
Lorien was shaking her head. “I watched your entire interview with Balthus on the screen in his cell. He never said anything about anyone named Ophelia.”
“He spoke to me in my head just as Sparrow was pulling me out,” I explained.
Lorien’s eyes widened in shock. “I’d heard that death djinns have that ability, but it’s said they only use it to communicate with their chosen mates,” she murmured.
“Well, maybe he did it out of desperation, hoping I’d prove his story and get him out of jail,” I said uncomfortably. I didn’t want to consider the ramifications of Balthus deciding I was his ‘chosen mate’.
“I don’t like it, Sydney,” Lorien said, concern painting her features.
“What’s to like,” I grumbled.
“Why would Balthus think you could prove his story and get him out of jail?” Sunny interjected. “We’re going on the premise that he’s guilty here, remember? That’s how we’re going to get your contract cancelled. That bastard is not going to use you to prove he’s innocent!”
“I don’t know why he told me about Ophelia,” I groaned, rubbing my fingers hard over my face. I breathed deep, trying to collect my thoughts. “Maybe he thinks that by proving he won the soul from someone else, instead of stealing it himself, people will be more likely to believe that he didn’t know it was illegal.”
“And he’d probably be right about that,” Lorien muttered.
“But even if he got the soul from the goblin, it doesn’t mean he didn’t know it was unaligned. Sparrow will realize that,” I said. I could hear the edge of desperation in my voice.
“Of course he will,” Sunny soothed. “Patrick Sparrow’s mind is one of the sharpest tacks in his very well-appointed tool box.” She winked at me cheekily.
“Agent Sparrow is the top detective on the Seelie squad,” Lorien agreed, joining forces with Sunny to ease my escalating panic. “And you’re right, Sydney. We don’t know Balthus’ motives for telling you about Ophelia—so there’s no use worrying ourselves with speculation. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you found out about the goblin.”
“Okay,” I breathed, trying to quiet a fresh bout of anxiety.
I related the entire Ophelia experience, with Sunny interjecting whenever she felt I was leaving something out. At the end of the tale, Lorien appeared to be just as disturbed as I had been.
“I can see why Balthus wouldn’t want Ophelia questioned by the police,” Lorien stated with a sad shake of her head. “She probably wouldn’t handle it particularly well, and who knows what secrets of his she has running around in her brain after two centuries. It does sound like she told you everything relevant to the case that she was capable of telling.”
“So you agree there’s no reason to tell Sparrow about her, then,” I reiterated for confirmation.
“I said I wouldn’t tell him, didn’t I?” Lorien answered, flashing me a look of irritation.
“Did you know that’s what happens after a couple of centuries with a death djinn—I’d start to go bonkers and you’d be tied to my crazy ass forever?” I asked her with forced levity.
Lorien looked at me for a moment, her plum-colored eyes softening. “I’m your faerie guardian, Sydney. I chose you at birth. I’ll never abandon you.”
My lower lip wobbled, just a little.
Then Lorien smiled, her wings beginning to flicker faster. “I can’t believe we might actually get to talk to Lauringer! Emily was right—if there’s any magical help to be had, she’s the one to give it. I’ve always wanted to meet her!”
“Hmm, I guess I could bring you along. Although, with her being so reclusive, maybe it would be better if I talked to her alone…”
Disappointment flared in Lorien’s eyes, but when she noticed the teasing twitch of my lips, it transformed into a look that promised reprisal. “Very funny,” she mumbled.
I laughed. “Of course you’re coming with me! That is—if she agrees to see me at all,” I added. “What about the Grimy Goblin and the Hell Ride, though?”
“And the infinity tattoo on the goblin’s hand,” Sunny piped up. “Do you have any idea if that means anything?”
Lorien’s brow creased in thought. “I’ll have to ask around. It doesn’t tweak my wings, but I’m not really familiar with the various goblin societies and organizations. It’s surprising that a goblin would mark himself in such a distinctive manner, though—as a race, they pride themselves on their physical similarities.
“As for the Grimy Goblin, I think it would be best if we left that up to Agent Sparrow. The goblin territories are notoriously unfriendly to outsiders. And I’m sure Agent Sparrow has some goblin connections. He should be able to send someone in to poke around without attracting any attention.
�
�Don’t even think about trying to find the Hell Ride,” Lorien added bluntly. “You don’t want to have anything to do with the Unseelie Court.”
I wasn’t going to argue. I had already decided the Hell Ride would be my last resort.
“If that’s everything, I think we should call Agent Sparrow and let him know what you found out. The more help we have, the better. And he and I made a deal to exchange information. When he sees I’m keeping my side of the bargain, he’ll feel obliged to keep his,” she said, sounding pleased.
“You can tell him the info came from an anonymous source.” The unrestrained glee in her voice triggered warning bells, but before I could comment, she disappeared.
I grimaced at Sunny. “You don’t think he’ll be too mad about me not wanting to tell him, do you?”
“Good afternoon, ladies,” a warm Irish brogue drawled behind me. “Lorien claims you have some urgent information for me.”
I made a strangled sound. Goddess criminy—she could have warned me! I was suddenly and keenly aware that I was still in my pajamas. Embarrassment warred with a perverse thankfulness for my choice of sleeping attire. In place of my usual ragged t-shirt and oversized boxers, I wore a loose tank-top of thin white cotton that emphasized my breasts, and fell just short of the low drawstring waist of my cotton sleep pants.
I hurriedly sat up and sucked in my stomach, restraining the more obvious urge to smooth my hand over my tousled hair. I didn’t remember it sticking out at any weird angles when I’d glanced in the mirror earlier.
Lorien reappeared and resumed her seat on the edge of the glass coffee table, her avid expression making it plain that she intended to enjoy the effects of Sparrow’s unannounced presence.
“Patrick—so nice to see you again!” Sunny exclaimed, noting my reactions with an amused gleam in her eyes. “Please forgive our casual state of dress—Lorien didn’t tell us you were coming,” she continued. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Thank you, Sunny, coffee would be perfect—black please,” he accepted gratefully. “And my pleasure to see you again as well,” he added as Sunny rose to get his drink. She gave him a pleasant smile, and then shot me a smirk behind his back on her way to the kitchen.
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