Old Haunts

by Nova Nelson

  What? I might not be able to thwart every attempt, but I wouldn’t make it easy for someone to poison me.

  He poured us tea, and I made a mental note to wait until he’d had a sip of his to try mine. “How about I save ya some time,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Dmitri didn’t have no enemies I knew about, and we haven’t gotten into trouble in years.”

  “Did you know about his heart condition?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a heart so much as a ticking time bomb.”

  “When did he tell you about it?”

  “As soon as he found out. He came over and said, ‘Greg, my life could end tomorrow, and it’d be a shame not to get up to some of the old fun in the meantime.’ Well, I told his witchy hide that everyone’s life could end tomorrow—that was the way of the world—and that was no reason to up the odds.”

  “So you talked him out of doing something stupid?”

  “Ah, but ya can’t talk someone out of doing something stupid. If they had enough sense to listen to reason, they wouldn’t be doing stupid things in the first place. And Dmitri was the type of guy who always thought the stupidest things were the smartest of plans.”

  “And you?”

  “I was just stupid enough to go along with him. For the most part.”

  At least O’Leary wasn’t pretending to be above it all. “He said you two hadn’t been in trouble in a while.”

  Finally, he sipped his tea, so I did, too. It was a ruddy color and just strong enough that I thought I could make it through the rest of the afternoon without another cup of coffee.

  “Not legal trouble, no,” he replied. “We sometimes found ourselves a little bit of it at Sheehan’s around closing, though. Especially before Seamus, Lucent, and Slash ended up in Ironhelm.” He raised his teacup. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

  “Don’t mention it. I didn’t make them steal that gold. They did all the hard work, and I just helped clean it up.”

  “We need more cleaners in Eastwind, that’s for sure. Although Dmitri and I wouldn’t’ve had nearly as much fun if there’d been more of them back then.”

  “When you two were younger and getting into trouble, what did that look like?”

  His gaze wandered the room for a moment, pausing briefly on a packed bookshelf carved from a giant tree stump. “Are ya familiar with leprechaun magic?”

  “A little. There was that Guilt Gale that came through last Lunasa Festival.”

  He chuckled. “Ah, was that what it was? I’d heard rumors, but I wasn’t sure. Not summoned one of those myself. I’ve never found any pleasure in using my magic on others.” He paused. “The few times I did, it was just to help us steal a trinket here or there, and it wasn’t serious spells.”

  “And by ‘us’ you mean you and Dmitri?”

  “I do. There’s a reason Ezra Ares stopped carrying gold medallions.” He grinned, the sun glinting in his hazel eyes. “He also used to use this soft gold wire to secure the crystals for necklaces—but not only is gold a great magical conductor, it’s also easy for leprechauns to summon to ourselves when we can get a clear look at it.”

  “And I take it you did some of that?”

  “Sure did. One haul landed Dmitri and me so much loot, we were able to do a week in Avalon on the profits alone.”

  “I bet Ezra wasn’t too happy about that.”

  “Ah…” He shrugged and waved me off. “I mean, he wasn’t thrilled, but the man admires a good bit of troublemaking, even if it’s at his own expense.”

  “You don’t think he’s held a grudge since then?”

  “Ezra? Not a chance. Especially since we brought him back a few items from Avalon that aren’t, strictly speaking, legal in this realm.”

  “He didn’t press charges, I take it?” I already knew the answer, though. Sheriff Bloom hadn’t mentioned Ezra’s name on her list of Dmitri’s involvement.

  “Of course not. Ezra is a strong supporter of those who skirt the law without outright harming anyone. He wouldn’t’ve wanted to discourage us when we were so young.”

  “You certainly knew how to keep him quiet.”

  O’Leary laughed. “Everyone knows how to keep Ezra quiet. It’s the same way he keeps everyone else in town quiet about his… situation.”

  He was referring, of course, to the fact that Ezra Ares had stopped aging decades before. I knew a little bit more than most on the topic ever since Donovan’s brother had solicited Ezra’s help for the same thing, but I wasn’t about to divulge any of that right now.

  O’Leary went on. “To keep people silent, ya keep them happy. And ya do it in such a way that they don’t believe anyone else could do it without too great a personal cost. Ezra has done not-so-legal favors for everyone in power in this town. And he makes his customers feel the same way, like they’re getting a deal they can’t get anywhere else. We just did the same for him.”

  “Okay,” I said, “enough about Black Market 101. Are you telling me that you and Dmitri just got up to a little leprechaun and witch magic?”

  “Not at all. We got up to a lot of it. And not always the lighter side.”

  “Go on.”

  He shifted in his chair, and his gaze jumped back to the bookshelf for only a split second. “It’s called Draíolc. It’s the study of dark and ancient magic that leprechauns condemned a while ago. We were by no means practitioners, but we did dabble in it here and there in our stupider years.”

  “He did, too? Even though he was a witch?”

  “Yes. The secrets of this magic are guarded by my kind, but they’re available to all those with power.”

  “What about a Fifth Wind who can’t levitate a laundry basket to save her life?”

  He chuckled. “Oh, I bet a Fifth Wind could do quite well with magic such as this. Necromancy isn’t far off from it.”

  “Sounds lovely,” I said. “While you and Dmitri were messing around with the deeply occult, any chance you might have triggered events that led to his death?”

  “Most certainly.”

  I blinked. “O-kay…” I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Any specifically that come to mind?”

  “All of them might’ve led to both his death and mine. But none of them did.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “Fairly. Because we were never really good at Draíolc. Hardly ever got a spell to work for us. And the ones that did were simple and… mostly harmless.”

  I took the last sip of my tea without realizing it and got a mouthful of the bitter dregs. Sweet baby jackalope!

  O’Leary grinned. “Wakes ya up, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it does.” I set the cup back down gently and tried to regain my focus. But it was too late, and I was pretty sure I had plenty to work from. “I think I’d better get a move on. I have another appointment I shouldn’t be late for.”

  “Of course.” We both stood, and he led me out onto the front step.

  “If you think of anything that could be useful here, let me know.”

  He nodded. “And if ya get to the bottom of it, will ya let me know? Dmitri was the best friend I ever had.” He sighed heavily. “I can’t stand the thought that he might’ve died of natural causes rather than finding himself neck deep in unicorn swirls of his own making.”

  “I’ll keep you posted.”

  I turned my back on the leprechaun, wondering if I had any friends who wished the same for me. And if I did, how I could quickly get them out of my life.

  Chapter Ten

  I couldn’t believe I was back at the count’s castle. It meant that, since coming to Eastwind, I’d been to a vampire’s creepy, isolated home on a peninsula overlooking a deep lake that hid who knew what kind of danger more times than I’d been to a dentist. If gum disease killed me in the end, that would be an irony I deserved.

  I’d sent a letter ahead so that the count was expecting me when I knocked. It wasn’t great to give someone like him an opportunity to prepare for your arrival on hi
s home turf, but I wasn’t a complete idiot; I’d also told Ruby my plans for the day so if I didn’t come home, she would know who’d murdered me. Or, more in line with the count’s M.O., who had me murdered while keeping his hands nice and clean.

  “It’s so nice to have visitors,” he said, leading me into the gloomy space.

  I looked around at the furniture, all red velvet chairs and candles hanging from the ceiling, the wax dripping down the holders. I wanted to call him a walking cliché, but I needed to do my best to stay civil with him until I could learn what I came for about Dmitri.

  We entered a sitting room where each portrait on the wall looked like its eyes were following me.

  He must have seen me staring, because he said, “You’re not imagining it. They’re really watching you. I had to order them from Transylvania. A trapped soul in each one.” He grinned at my horror. “Kidding, of course. I got them from a tiny market in Dolgoeth. Transylvania is a wasteland with no trace of culture.”

  He offered me a chair by the fireplace, and though I would have preferred to remain standing, I had to play along.

  He helped himself to a small couch with red velvet upholstery, leaning his back against one of the wooden armrests and kicking up his shiny black dress shoes on the other. “What can I help you with today, my dear Nora Ashcroft?”

  He knew I was starting at a huge disadvantage. That was the only time he ever acted this friendly. He was savoring it. “I’m curious what you know about Dmitri Flint.”

  “He’s dead.” He arched an eyebrow. “Did I get it right?”

  “You did. But I mean, what do you know about him from before he died? I understand the two of you had a run-in with the law.”

  He folded his hands in his lap and tilted his head to the side, pouting out his lips as if I was a thing to be pitied. “Then you understand incorrectly. He had a run-in, all right, but before it was with the law, it was with my dragon.”

  I couldn’t disguise my shock. “Your dragon? You mean the one that lives behind Rainbow Falls?”

  “Yes. And she has a name. It’s Maggie. Dmitri and the leprechaun Greggory O’Leary got it in their heads to sneak back there and try to steal some of the town’s gold.” He observed my mouth hanging open and said, “Oh, come on. You didn’t actually think Seamus Shaw was the first leprechaun to get that foolish idea in his head. If he was, there’d be no need to hide the town’s treasury behind a raging waterfall and guard it with a dragon.”

  “Right. It’s just that… trying it is so incredibly stupid.”

  Count Malavic laughed. “Oh yes. I agree with you there. But I’ll give Flint and O’Leary credit; they made it past the falls. I still to this day don’t know how they managed. But then they injured Maggie, and that was where my amusement ended.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “No, you cannot. Thankfully, she got a full swipe across Dmitri’s middle. An inch deeper, and she would have gutted him. And he would have deserved it. But as it was, he survived with the proper medical and magical treatment. And Maggie is fine, thanks for asking.”

  I tried to make sense of it. Dmitri did say he was foolish when he was younger. But this went beyond foolish.

  “I pressed charges, obviously,” Malavic continued, “beyond what they were already facing for trespassing. No one hurts my dragon and gets away with it.”

  “And did they?”

  “What, get away with it?”

  I nodded.

  “Mostly. They claimed they only wanted to see a dragon in real life, not rob Eastwind’s treasury, and our dearest sheriff must have bought that garbage. They spent a night in jail, were assigned community service, and then released.”

  “I bet that made you angry,” I said.

  “If you’re wondering whether it made me angry enough to murder Dmitri, the answer is no. Besides, I have an alibi for that night. I was at Sheehan’s during the time in which he died. It couldn’t have been me.”

  “You could have hired someone.”

  He chuckled and clasped his hands behind his head. “So true. Darkness knows I can afford it. But I could have done it a number of times in the years since he pulled his stunt with O’Leary. Why wait until now? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It doesn’t, which is precisely why you would have waited this long.”

  The count rolled his eyes. “I may have endless time to spare, but even I’m not that patient for a little revenge. No, I called it even once they were assigned community service.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you.”

  “That’s because you don’t know what that community service was.” His top lip twitched in suppressed pleasure. “Both fools were required to clean up my dragon’s droppings… while I supervised. Let’s just say a few things I fed her that week might not have agreed with her stomach.”

  “Say no more. Please.”

  The count shrugged a single shoulder but changed the subject. “It wouldn’t surprise me if O’Leary had something to do with Flint’s death. Assuming, of course, that foul play was involved at all.”

  “I already spoke with O’Leary. He didn’t mention anything that sounded promising.”

  “I bet he also failed to mention the dragon situation.” He knew he had me there, and his dry chuckle was like nails on a chalkboard. “He did, didn’t he? But that seemed incredibly relevant to your case only a moment ago. And yet, he didn’t think to mention it. I bet Dmitri, assuming you’ve met with him, also failed to mention it. What else is the spirit hiding from you?”

  “Nuh-uh,” I said. “You’ve pulled this one on me before, and you’re not doing it again.”

  He raised one of his dagger-like brows. “Pulled what on you before?”

  “You know what. Insinuating things about someone, implying that there’s a lot more to the story they’re hiding from me.” To be fair, Bloom had done the same, but she had been more forthcoming about her implications. And I didn’t loath her.

  “It’s usually the case, though. Have I been wrong?”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling victorious. “A few months ago, you tried to imply that Donovan might have said something to Eva that made her jump through the portal, knowing Tanner would follow her through.”

  His stony expression gave nothing away. “And?”

  “It wasn’t true. I asked him what was said, and… he never wanted that to happen.”

  “I’m sure he told you that.” The count stood, and I was left with the tough choice of following his lead or staring up at him.

  I stood.

  “Since we’re on the topic of your little love triangle,” he said, “and I’ve made it plain even to someone of your low-grade intelligence that I had no interest in murdering Dmitri Flint, there’s something I think you ought to see.”

  “I can’t imagine you have anything that would interest me, Malavic. No offense.” Yes offense.

  “None taken.” I could tell he took some. “Right this way, Ms. Ashcroft.”

  As he made swiftly for a dim hallway, I paused, trying to decide what to do. Whatever he was about to show me was likely bad news. But my curiosity was killing me. And how bad could it be?

  Stupid question.

  I followed him out of the room and through the dark and narrow stone corridor. When he turned and descended a set of stairs, I wondered if I was actually crazy for following the town’s only vampire into what was surely a dungeon.

  Yes, Ruby knew where I was, but that would only help to ensure retribution if anything happened to me, it wouldn’t keep anything from happening to me in the first place.

  Oh well, gotta die sometime.

  I took my time on the stairs that were smooth from age and use.

  The count was waiting for me at the bottom, wearing a smugger than usual expression. “All I ask,” he said, “is that you don’t act irrationally when you see what I’m about to show you.”

  I raised my chin, giving him my iciest stare. “I promise nothing.”

  H
e sighed. “That’s about what I expected.”

  The room wouldn’t have looked out of place carrying an array of torture devices, but as it was, it seemed to be more of a study, with stone shelves housing books and no-doubt expensive bottles of red wine. There were two high-backed chairs, also with velvet upholstery, but this time black instead of red. The space was lit only by a few bobbing and enchanted orbs in each corner that cast a soft glow and created faint, dancing shadows across the floor and walls.

  A violet drape hovered in midair only a few feet to the left of one of the chairs. Malavic positioning himself to the side of the cloth and waited until he had my full attention.

  Once he did, he placed a hand on the top of the drape. “And this is what I thought you ought to see.”

  He yanked away the covering, and the second the light hit my eyes, I felt my heart fall into my feet.

  No way. It couldn’t be.

  Chapter Eleven

  The space where the violet cloth had just hung, suspended in midair, was now a bright patch of sunlight. I let my eyes adjust and felt like punching Sebastian Malavic right in the jaw when I saw the familiar landscape stretching out beyond the mouth of the portal between worlds.

  “If that leads to where I think it leads,” I ground out between clenched teeth.

  He threw his arms into the air. “Of course it does! Why else would I show you?”

  His face was looking more punchable by the second, but I planted my feet on the cold stone floor beneath me to keep from doing anything dangerous to my continued mortal existence. “How long has it been open?” I demanded. “It could completely topple the natural balance between the realms and—”

  “Three hundred and twenty-five years.”

  I gaped at him. “Oh.”

  “I opened it very slowly and carefully over a period of a decade,” he said. “And nobody noticed the imbalance with a war going on.”

  “Or maybe your portal caused an imbalance that contributed to the war.”