"We don't want to alarm you," Zephyr, the air sprite, stepped forward and smiled down at Michael.
"Are you an angel?" He stared at her face, framed by blonde hair.
"No, it is not yet time for that," she said. "We are here to ask you questions—perhaps there is something you can tell us that will help find your attacker."
"I hope you do find her," he squirmed into a more comfortable position on the bed. "She needs to be stopped."
"And that is what we intend to do," Cassie moved to stand next to Zephyr. "I know you've already answered questions for others. Is there anything else that they didn't ask—that you remember from that night?"
"She knocked on my cab door—nothing different in that," he closed his eyes as if in pain. "I rolled down the window. She said she'd take forty if I was interested. Should have known better—my wife hasn't even been here to see me since I came down with this shit."
"What about her—did you notice anything different about her?" Cassie went on.
"Had a weird tattoo on her neck," Michael said.
"What did that look like?" Yosuke was now very interested.
"Got paper and a pencil? I can sorta draw it for you."
"Here." I lifted the small notepad I carried in my suit coat, plus a pen from my pocket.
"They won't give me anything like this," Michael groused as I handed both items to him. "They don't want to touch any part of me. Can't even get my kids in here to give me a hug good-bye."
"This disease is so contagious, it could kill them, too," Zephyr reminded him gently.
"I know. Please tell me you'll make her pay for this."
"If we find her, she'll certainly pay," Cassie promised.
With a nod, Michael began to draw the tattoo from memory. I hope it was clear enough that the sprites or wizards could make sense of it. I doubted I'd have the least idea what, if anything, it meant.
Michael finished his drawing and handed the notebook to Zephyr. She studied the page he'd written on before tearing it out and handing the notebook back to Michael. "Write your good-byes," she said. "This is your opportunity to tell your loved ones how you feel."
"Thank you," he breathed.
Zephyr handed the paper to Cassie, who drew in a breath at the image.
"She knows what it means," Will said softly. "As do Yosuke and I."
"We need to go," Cassie turned toward me. "Michael, thank you."
I have no idea which wizard transported us back to Gulf Tides, and I didn't care. Obviously, Cassie had come away with important information, and that was a good exchange for my favorite pen and a small notepad.
Cassie
"Shakkor Agdah royalty?" Parke paced as Will, Yosuke and I faced him in his office.
"It's likely that she is now in charge, after the deaths last time," Will said. "It is very likely that her predecessor carried a similar rune."
"What the hell is she doing spreading the disease around, then? Why not send a flunky to do it?"
"She wants us to pay for those other deaths—personally, I think," Yosuke replied. "Besides, I am beginning to believe that she doesn't have the poison sacs on her face and arms like the others—in all the images we have of her, the face and arms are not covered, but the rest of her is. Only royalty would have the power to decide that for themselves. All others are required to carry the poison sacs everywhere."
"Did Trey's information include the tattoo?" I asked.
"I don't recall seeing it in the report."
"Suppression," Will said curtly.
"Suppression?" Parke stopped pacing and settled a puzzled glance on Will.
"Was there a decent description of the woman anywhere in the report?"
"We had camera images, so they probably didn't ask," Parke admitted.
"Was the tattoo visible in any of the images?"
"I don't know. I'll have to ask." Parke sounded frustrated, which echoed my own situation. We were likely dealing with the Queen of Shakkor Agdah, and she was a vengeful bitch.
"Remember that her sort must hide from the sprite kingdoms, so they will not be found. Somewhere, there is another concrete bunker or reinforced underground space, where the Earth sprites cannot detect them," Yosuke pointed out. "I imagine that this will not be a recent construction, as that led to their discovery last time."
"So they've got more than one hiding place, then?" Parke frowned at Yosuke.
"It makes sense to divide their numbers. It also makes sense that they would settle only one or two of their royalty in each place, to protect the race from being killed in a single attack."
"Great. They've learned military strategy, then?"
"They learn and read the current languages, just as humans do," Will said. "Know your enemy, remember?"
Parke stiffened as if he'd been insulted. In a way, he had. He didn't believe me when I first told him about Black Myth's reappearance months ago. It wasn't until we had physical evidence—as in bodies—before he was convinced.
Zedarius and I wish to speak with you after this, Yosuke's words filled my mind.
All right. I have some questions for you, too.
Perhaps they are the same questions.
Maybe.
Maybe they were just as curious as I was regarding my recognition of the symbol for Shakkor Agdah royalty, as I had no explanation for it.
"Look, we haven't had lunch," I told Parke. "If you have other questions, save them for later. I have to figure out how to interview Jon's husband, tonight."
"Fine. Go eat. We'll talk later."
We found Rob and the other sprites in the kitchen, having hot roast-beef sandwiches. Plates were set in front of us quickly, so we began to eat. Rob was the one to ask the pertinent question first, however.
"How were you able to read that rune?" He asked as I stuffed a huge bite of roast beef, bread and gravy in my mouth.
I don't know, I told him. I just knew what it was the second I saw it.
You have not seen this sigil before? Yosuke, who was eating just as I was, asked the next question.
Not that I can remember. Its meaning just popped into my head when I saw it.
He and Will exchanged glances. Can you now read the pyramid you have? he asked.
I haven't tried, exactly. Why?
Only the wizards can read everything written on the pyramids, Will replied. If you can now read the pyramid, we have no idea what that would mean, as we've never heard of such an event before.
I'll look at it when I get back from Seattle tonight, I said.
Will you tell us if you can decipher it?
I imagine that I can't, but sure. I'll let you know, I answered Yosuke's question.
"Maybe dying has its perks," I spoke aloud before cutting another bite of sandwich and stuffing it in my mouth.
"I've heard of stranger things," Rob sighed and lifted his wineglass to drink.
La Cocina del Gato
Seattle, Washington
Parke
Jon introduced his husband, Richard, shortly after we arrived at the restaurant. Jon had called ahead to make sure we didn't have a wait ahead of us, so we were led to two tables set side-by-side to accommodate us, the wizards and the sprites.
"We're looking for someone to manage an estate, I suppose," Cassie told Richard after our drink orders were taken.
"What is it you're looking for?" Richard dropped his napkin in his lap.
"Somebody to oversee the day-to-day operations—hiring and managing a lawn service, making sure repairs are done, groceries and cleaning supplies are ordered, hiring and supervising the cleaning staff, that sort of thing," Cassie told him.
"You should see the house, it's huge," Jon said. "It needs somebody to look after it."
"There is a separate guest house, too, so that's included in the job description," Cassie nodded. "We have a lot of people staying there, some of whom are official government employees, and you'll be briefed on who and what everybody is if you're hired."
"Jon hi
nted at an element of danger?" Richard made it a question rather than a statement.
"There is an element of danger," Cassie agreed. "But if you can't be protected by those around you at the property, then there's no saving you anywhere."
Richard considered that for a moment as drinks were set in front of us. He and Jon had ordered red wine, so he lifted his glass for a sip before he said anything else.
"Jon said something similar. And, as there are government employees involved, I assume that there's a high level of secrecy involved in this job?"
"Yes. You'll be informed if you're hired. Are you still interested?"
"Not just interested. Intrigued, too," he said.
"I read your resume earlier—Jon handed it to me," I broke in. "You served in the military?"
"Army—for six years—until I was outed under don't ask don't tell."
"That's a shame. I imagine you were good at your job," Cassie said.
"I was promoted to second lieutenant before getting my discharge," he didn't sound happy about that. "I met Jon afterward, so there was a silver lining."
I'd sifted his words for truth from the beginning—so far, he hadn't lied to either of us. He was taller than Jon, and sat with his back straight, as if he were being grilled by a superior officer.
"Jon told me that you often went in to check on the night staff at your current place of employment—sounds like you kept the staff on their toes," Cassie said.
"That's right—just because my hours were usually during the day didn't mean I'd allow the night staff to slack off. All nursing facilities are subject to state regulations and surprise audits. It was my intention to never be caught off-guard."
"I have a question about that," Cassie said.
"Go ahead."
"We're a bit more relaxed than what you're used to, I think. If we hire you, you'll have complete control over the grounds crew, cleaning crew and anyone else hired to do maintenance and upkeep, but the kitchen belongs to Beverly. Whatever she says goes."
I blinked at Cassie—she'd already taken the measure of this man and knew he might clash with the best cook I'd ever hired. She was right, too. The kitchen would be ruled by Beverly, no matter how good the property manager was.
"Will you be hiring cook's helpers for her?"
"Maybe one or two. You can ask questions during those interviews, but the final decision will be Beverly's."
"I can deal with that," Richard agreed.
"Beverly is the best cook, ever," Jon said. "I had no idea how much I'd love southern cuisine."
"People will forgive you for almost anything if your biscuits are made southern style," Cassie grinned at Jon.
"With gravy, at breakfast," Jon agreed.
"Now wait a minute," Richard held up a hand. "Biscuits with gravy doesn't sound that tempting to me."
"Says the man who's never tried it," Jon elbowed Richard lightly. "Just wait. It's heaven on a plate."
"If Beverly can't convince you otherwise, then nobody can," Cassie said. "Do you think you can handle the job?"
"I think so."
"When can you start?"
"I'm officially unemployed now. I can start tomorrow."
"Perfect. Pack your bags. You'll be going back with us tonight."
"You already have a plane ticket for me?" Richard frowned.
"We don't need a plane," Jon teased. "Wait and see."
"Are you ready to order?" Our server appeared from nowhere. It's a good thing I knew the menu; I ordered chicken enchiladas with a taco on the side.
Cassie
Yosuke, Rob and the other sprites went with me to Jon and Richard's apartment after telling them we'd meet them there. Richard had driven to the restaurant and had to drive the vehicle home.
We gave them a half-hour head start and still made it to their apartment before they did. After following them inside, we waited for the inevitable discussion of what to take and what to leave behind.
Will took Parke to his house in Seattle, before returning to Gulf Tides—Parke's patience would have been stretched during the two hours it took for Jon and Richard to get things packed.
Then there was the cat.
The relatively new cat, that a neighbor had given Richard when she moved to another apartment that didn't allow pets.
That meant a scramble to gather the litter pan, litter, cat food, scratching post and cat toys.
"His name is Cheddar, but I've been calling him Chet," Richard explained. Chet stood at my feet, gazing up at me as if I were his lifeline in an apartment suddenly gone crazy. A ginger tabby, he had to weigh at least fifteen pounds.
In other words, he was a large housecat. Chet meowed softly at me. "You want me to pick you up? Is that it?" I asked, bending down to give him a scratch around the ears.
He purred.
I was lost.
"I think you have a cat, now. He only yowls at me," Richard said as he carried a box into the kitchen.
"Do I need a cat? Do I?" I massaged around Chet's face. He loved that. "All right, but I can't carry you around all day, you know. I have Princess things to do." I hefted him into my arms, where he appeared perfectly comfortable.
"Princess?" Richard was back, a look of disbelief on his face.
"Princess of Alabama," Rob explained. "Is this everything? If not, we can always come back later."
"It's enough for now." Jon brought one more bag to the kitchen and dropped it on the floor.
"Yosuke, can you take all this in one trip?" I turned toward him.
"If I can bother you for a bit of extra energy," he said.
"As long as it's not painful," I said.
"It won't be. You may feel a little tired after, but that's it."
"What do I need to do?"
"Take my hand." He held his out. Drawing in a deep breath and settling Chet against me with one hand, I gripped Yosuke's fingers with the other.
In moments, we—and all of Jon and Richard's bags and boxes—were transported to Gulf Tides, Alabama.
Yosuke
"I doubt she felt the slightest pull on her power," I informed Zedarius.
"That's good for us, isn't it?" he asked.
"It is—but it's also a good thing we've promised not to sacrifice her again."
"Why?"
"I doubt we'd be able to fight her if she turned what she has against us."
"Where is she now?"
"Showing the cat where his litter box is—in the laundry room."
"The cat didn't come to you, first?"
"It went straight to her."
"Interesting."
"Yes."
"Should we wait until tomorrow to ask about the pyramid again?"
"Yes. It is late and we can be patient in this."
"You're better at being patient than I am."
"You should learn to be better at it."
"Thanks for the advice. I'm going to bed."
Cassie
"We'll have a meeting first thing in the morning," I told Richard. "You'll hear all about what's going on then. After that, I have a list of things on your to-do list, and one of those things is getting a couple of cat beds for Chet. That tiny thing he has doesn't fit his ginger magnificence."
Jon, who stood beside Richard, smothered a laugh. Richard almost grinned. "Thank you for taking his ginger tabbiness; he and I didn't always see things the same way. It's just that DeAnna was such a good neighbor, I couldn't tell her no."
"That's fine—Chet and I are good. I always wanted a cat, but, well, my life hasn't been settled enough before. I hope Chet and I found each other at the right time."
"As long as you feed him, he'll be friends for life—or that's what DeAnna told me," Richard said.
"First thing in the morning," Jon promised, pulling Richard away.
"Good-night," I told them and headed toward the suite I shared with Parke. When I got there, Parke was absent. Chet, on the other hand, had not only found where I sleep, he'd settled himself on my side of the be
d. He slow-blinked clear, amber eyes at me, as if we'd known one another forever.
"I see how this is going," I scolded unconvincingly, and went to pet him again.
Parke
"None of the videos show the tattoo, but they're all at night and grainy," Trey narrowed his eyes at the clearest of the images. "You say the tattoo denotes Black Myth royalty, according to the wizards and the sprites?"
"And Cassie," I said, my voice rougher than intended. I'd spent most of the day wondering how the hell she'd recognized that rune from a crappy drawing—done by a dying man. Trey told me the man died earlier in the evening, which left me feeling angry and confused.
I didn't go with Cassie and the others and I should have. They found information nobody else had gotten, and I wanted to kick myself for it.
"The family is refusing to claim the body," Trey sighed.
"I'll pay for his funeral," I said. "He gave us valuable information, so a decent burial is the least I can do."
"I'll send a message for someone to make arrangements and send the final bill to you. Is there a limit on the cost?"
"Try not to go over fifteen thousand, and that includes flowers and a decent memorial service."
"I think we can do that," Trey agreed. "Anything else?"
"Cassie just hired Jon's husband to run the estate. If you want to lay your requirements out, then do it tonight."
"I'll have Grim take care of it. Now, tell me how Cassie recognized the tattoo."
"I have no idea, and every time I ask her about it, it only upsets both of us. I keep digging, and she doesn't have answers. The only reason she can give is because she died."
"Can it not be that? Remember, you're talking to a vampire, now, who has also died and gone through a change."
I must have stared at Trey for seconds before my brain actually switched gears to work again. "I—ah, admit I never considered that," I conceded.
"It's something we vamps are reminded of every morning, when the sun rises."
"So far, I haven't seen limitations in Cassie. Not like that."
"You haven't seen a twenty-foot fire demon before, either, but that's what Ben says arrived to save the rest of the Douglasville Pack."
Worth Your While Page 16