The Wayward Deed (Vacancy Book 2)

by A. K. Caggiano

  “I think Ziah will like this.” Conrad’s voice came up beside her, leaning on the stone rail that ran along the crescent-shaped balcony.

  “Hana too,” she said. “She’s been homesick.” Lorelei hugged the planner, relieved the last task was complete. “Thank god, er, the gods, I guess, for magic—it’s amazing.”

  When he didn’t respond, she looked over at him. He was frowning. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

  “Let me guess, this is, what did Jax call it? Soft magic? Like divining and all that stuff that isn’t cool, right?”

  “Did Jax say that?” Conrad smirked. “He would—he’s totally self-absorbed.”

  Lorelei opened her mouth, but he interrupted her.

  “I know what you’re going to say, but I don’t look down at the intangible schools. A good scryer can do more than eavesdrop: they can go places in the blink of an eye or even pull other people from across the world right to them, sometimes even across planes. It’s impressive in its own right. In fact, Arista just scryed on Byron and actually found him.” He rested his forearms on the balcony and his eyes passed over the trees without really seeing them.

  “She was able to pinpoint where he is?” Lorelei’s breath hitched. “Is he close?”

  “No, he’s actually still in the nether. Maybe he’s plotting something, but he seemed…I don’t know. Sort of stuck?” Conrad was staring hard at his hands, struggling for an explanation. “Maybe he’s lost whatever gave him that magic.”

  Lorelei swallowed, looking back out at the trees. They didn’t move in the wind that she didn’t feel on her skin. They really were in a scene, in a suspended instance of this place, wherever it was. Trapped.

  She flexed her grip on the planner and leaned on the thick, stone railing, looking down. The expanse below them down along the mountainside through the trees pulled at her, and in any other instance she would have jerked back, unnerved by the sensation of being up too high, but now the risk seemed different. She tried to keep her voice steady. “You’re not considering going to get him, are you?”

  “No, not at all,” he answered quickly. “But he is there because of me.”

  “And your parents are dead because of him,” she said, harsh, but honest.

  Conrad was nodding. “I know it’s stupid to want to help.”

  Lorelei raised her head. So much of what Conrad did came back to Byron. “It’s not stupid, it’s kind.” She thought about the spark he’d made from the siren’s blood, how he said he wanted to test it by shoving it into a human. Had that been for Byron too?

  “It can be both,” he said. “I just thought if he ever came back…but he doesn’t need me or my experiments, he figured it out on his own, didn’t he? I probably never would have been able to fix what he used to be anyway.”

  “You say that like he was broken.” When Lorelei had spoken to Seamus and Malachai about beings who were born without the spark like Byron was, they told her it was random, and while other magical beings were afraid of that fate themselves, it wasn’t necessarily a mistake.

  Conrad turned away from the mountainside to stare back into the dim light of the ballroom. “He wasn’t broken. He just inherited the unlucky side of the coin.” His arms were crossed tight over his chest, his jaw clenched, about to speak again but holding back. Lorelei waited, and this time he actually went on. “Our mother, she wasn’t a witch. She wasn’t anything.”

  For a moment, Lorelei was confused—she’d seen the woman’s photograph, her signature on her will, heard her spoken of: she certainly existed, so she was something. And then it dawned on her like the sun rising up over the mountains, the all too obvious reason her child might be born without a spark, the reason that child might want to kill her, and even the reason people in this world sometimes said the name Rognvaldson as if it meant something else, dirty or traitorous. “She was human?”

  He rubbed his temple, focused hard into the darkness, then he nodded.

  Her heart pounded, and her vision swam, words bubbling up inside her, fighting to come out and divulge everything, knowing if they stayed locked away it might possibly be forever if they didn’t see light right now.

  But then, in a way so uncharacteristic of him, Conrad kept going. “Charmed folk look down on it, and I get it—she was weak, she couldn’t protect herself, she just didn’t know what she was getting into by coming here. I was never old enough to really discuss it with either of them, so I don’t know what they were hoping, why they thought it would work out. Seamus says they were really happy, even Arista admits that, but I never saw it. And then because of her, Byron was, well, nothing too.”

  Lorelei’s chest tightened. Nothing. He thought humans were nothing.

  “I didn’t tell you before because it was sort of nice, you not knowing when everyone else did. I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

  Her mouth was dry when she tried to speak, but she choked the words out, “Why would I think that?”

  “People usually do.” He shrugged, apparently used to it.

  “Oh.” It was all she could say, every admittance and truth she’d wanted to share with him swallowed up by one word.

  Carefully, he looked over at her as if he expected the worst. She’d never seen him so uneasy, even staring down his fratricidal brother.

  Brows knit, she shook her head. “Well, I don’t think that. I’m not like the people from here.” She took a breath. “I’m—”

  “A changeling, I know. Your whole family is made up of humans—you almost married one. It wasn’t a logical train of thought on my part. But when you found out about yourself you ran away from all of them. You broke off an engagement, and you don’t even seem to want to go back and visit them. I’m sorry I tried so hard when we met to get you to talk about it, but it was just…I thought I would get some kind of answer to my own weird feelings about it all through you.” When he glanced back over at her, there was relief on his face. She wished she could feel an ounce of it herself. “Thanks,” he finally said, though she had no idea for what. He laughed lightly under his breath. “That actually does feel better.”

  She pulled her eyes away from him and swept them back over the room beyond the archway, static and sterile and fake. She wasn’t going to undo a lifetime of thoughts like that with a single admittance, but if she could point out to him that things and people change, it might be easier. “I should be thanking you,” she said quietly. “If I came to you a couple months ago for help with all of this, you would have laughed and walked away, but this time you offered before I even had to ask.”

  He squinted at her. “Yeah, I did sort of help you out too quickly, didn’t I?”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “How long have we been in here?” Conrad pushed off the railing and started back for the door.

  “Why?” She hurried after him. “We didn’t set the timer.”

  “Are you sure?” His voice was low, but it had that playful, acidic tone that told her whatever was coming next couldn’t be trusted. “Maybe I did, and it ran out. We’d be stuck here forever then.”

  She craned her neck toward the switch and the timer as they made it to the door, and sighed when she saw it predictably was indeed not set. “Jerk,” she muttered.

  He took the door by the handle and smirked at her, flicking the switch again. The room flashed away into stark whiteness, taking with it the entire moment like it hadn’t even happened. “What else did you expect?”

  CHAPTER 31

  NOWHERE

  Ziah came out of her sleepy funk late in the week looking better than she had in some time which was to say outstandingly gorgeous. Her clients were all accounted for, and she’d sent the funds she collected off to her sister. Philomena was the only cupid left at the manor, deciding to stay for the party and to finish up her research.

  Arista and Seamus headed out on a short trip the day before Ziah’s Valentine’s extravaganza as Grier had predicted. Arista had been sure to check all of the wards before she left,
and even took Lorelei aside in the office to ask her if everything was all right. Taken aback, Lorelei confirmed nothing was amiss as far as she could tell. Arista mentioned briefly she had scryed on Byron again, and he was still firmly planted in the nether.

  Lorelei went down to the kitchen early the morning of the party, bracing for a long day. Ando and Hana were prepping desserts and bustling about, and Lorelei managed to grab some toast without disrupting things too much. Back at the front desk, she met Ziah coming down the stairs clad in a skin-tight, Barbie-pink jumpsuit. Her hair fell in big, black curls all around her face, and she wore heels that made her that much more imposing, but her smile was as inviting as ever. The world paled around her in comparison.

  She swept across the foyer and threw her arms around Lorelei, pulling her into a warm hug. Lorelei managed to keep her hair out of the butter, holding the plate out to one side. “Wow, you look amazing.”

  Ziah scrunched up her nose. “Well, this is my favorite time of year.” She was practically squealing. “Thank you for all the work you did while I was out. I’ll be here all day, no naps needed or anything, and I’m taking a break from the books too, so you take it easy, you’ve earned it.”

  Guests poured in over the course of the day, and Ziah handled them deftly, sending Lorelei here and there and on plenty of breaks. Aly tried her best to help and only ended up tripping a few guests when they didn’t realize that having a winged cat wind between your legs was supposed to help you go up the stairs, not fall back down them. It would be a full house, but then the manor was never really full if it could make up more rooms whenever it felt like it.

  Conrad wandered into the foyer during a lull when only Ms. Brimstone and Mr. Suwanee were checking in, invited by Ziah as a second apology for what had happened on the grounds and a third trial for their wedding. Lorelei watched Conrad loiter in the corner, fiddling with a doorknob that wasn’t broken. When Grier took the two to their room, the warlock sauntered over to the desk.

  Ziah was humming to herself and taking notes on who had shown up, crossing them off her list. Lorelei watched Conrad stand there awkwardly, something possibly amiss, but his eyes flicked over to Ziah as if he didn’t want to say it in front of her. Lorelei’s thoughts floated to Byron, and anxiety crawled up the sides of her stomach.

  “All set for tonight?” he finally asked.

  Ziah snapped her head up, beaming. “Everything’s on schedule: band’s here, foods done, last of the supplies arrived this morning, and I’ve had my dress picked out for weeks.”

  He plucked one of the pens out of the holder and rolled it between his fingers. “So, there’s nothing either of you need?” His eyes flicked up from one of them to the other then back down. “You know, no last-minute task that might get in the way of you going?”

  “I really think we have everything wrapped up.” Ziah tapped a finger against her mouth and turned to Lorelei. “Do you have anything you need from Conrad?”

  Lorelei shook her head. If he was trying to communicate something was awry, he was being remarkably unclear.

  He attempted to replace the pen but missed the holder completely, and it bounced onto the ground. He swore under his breath, picked it up, and knocked his head on the lip of the counter. Groaning, he got it right on the second try. “All right, sounds good, I’ll see you—”

  “Wait.” Ziah’s voice sharpened, brightly painted lips turning downward. “You are not wearing that tonight.”

  He looked down at himself. He had on his most worn, baggy flannel in grey and black, and his jeans had a hole over the knee. “What’s wrong with—”

  “Everything.” She huffed, hands on her hips. “Okay, that’s your job. Find something in your closet that has some color and actually fits you.”

  He glared at her a moment as Lorelei chuckled, then he stood straight. “Well, I’m not making you any promises.” He turned to go, then looked back. “But if you do think of something you need—”

  “That’s already going to take you all day.” She waved him off then crossed the foyer to the narrow windows beside the front door. “I just hope everybody can get here while the weather is still holding out.”

  More guests piled in throughout the day, the last few commenting on the frigidness and brushing off a light dusting of snow from their shoulders. Lorelei took an extra-long dinner in the kitchen, a bit to Ando’s chagrin as she tried to convince him to show up and at least see the white room without giving away the venue they’d chosen. He told her he wasn’t a very big fan of Ziah’s affairs, but was at least convinced to let Hana go and would possibly pop in late in the night despite insisting there was no way Lorelei could surprise him with something he might like.

  Lorelei rifled through her dresser that evening, the only thing remotely suitable being the navy dress she’d worn on her date with Malachai and chastising herself for not bothering to shop once since she’d come to Moonlit Shores. There was a knock at her door, and Ziah was there, changed into a satiny, red, strapless number, her hair pulled into a high ponytail. Over one arm she was carrying a pile of clothes like the world’s most beautiful faery godmother. “Pick one,” she said.

  Lorelei looked her up and down. “You’re about six inches taller and two cup sizes bigger than me—I don’t think this is going to work.”

  “Oh, but that’s my secret: everything of mine is just a little too tight.” She snickered and dumped the pile onto the bed. “I’ll be honest, though, I brought all of these for show: this is the one you’re going to wear.” She held up a maroon, sweetheart neck dress that didn’t really look like something Ziah would normally go for. It had short, off-shoulder sleeves, cinched in through the bodice, and a chiffon skirt that would stop just above her knee. Lorelei thought she should protest, but knew Ziah wouldn’t ever accept her no, and there was the other little fact that her only other option was just not going to cut it. Plus she’d actually spent time on her hair for once, getting it to fall in long, soft waves around her face instead of tied up in a pony tail or braid down her back, and it’d be nice if all of her could look good at one time.

  After she changed and presented herself to Ziah for final approval, the woman handed her an envelope. “I tucked this into my planner to give to you this morning, but you never get mail, and the day went by too fast, so I totally forgot.”

  Lorelei took the square letter carefully, marveling down at it. There was no return address, but when she flipped it over, there was a wax seal with the image of a peacock feather pressed into it. “Ms. Pennycress,” she whispered to herself, barely believing the woman had gotten back to her.

  “So, shall we?” Ziah was bouncing from foot to foot, giddy to get going. “I made sure everything’s already set up, and Ren is holding down the fort for the early birds, poor thing.”

  “You go ahead. I’ll be down in five minutes.” Lorelei could hardly take her eyes away from the envelope.

  Ziah hesitated, then took in a sharp breath, her patience shot. “Okay, just hurry, I don’t want you to miss any of the fun!”

  Lorelei shut the door quietly in her wake, eyes tracked on the envelope. She needed to know immediately what was inside and almost tore it in two, then stopped. Conrad had to see. Even if it said something about the old woman knowing she was human, she knew she wouldn’t be able to bear it if she ended up with another secret to keep from him.

  She gave Aly a kiss on the forehead and told her to relax after all her hard work that day before bolting down the stairs, weaving through the horde of guests in cocktail attire and masks already headed for the white room. She paused once at the front window to see the sky was grey and heavy. Ren’s almanac had marked the next two days with a possible storm, and hopefully it would hold off until tomorrow.

  In the basement, she hurried over the boardwalk, only getting her heel caught once between the planks, and knocked rapidly on Conrad’s door. He didn’t answer, so she knocked again until she heard his muffled voice call from the other side. “I swear
I was kidding last time, I changed and—oh, hey.” His face instantly dropped the irritation it had. “I thought you were Ziah checking up on me again.”

  He’d been rubbing wet hair with a towel, but dropped it onto his shoulder. “Hi,” she said a little more breathless than she meant, the reason she was there popping right out of her head when she saw him fresh out of the shower in a tight white t-shirt.

  He peeked out into the empty hall then looked back down at her. “So, I didn’t expect you to, um, come and…get me?” His eyes lingered down the length of her for a long moment, then flicked back to her face.

  “Oh, no, no, no.” Lorelei held up the envelope, face flushing. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  He squinted at the letter and opened the door fully for her to come inside.

  “I wrote to Ms. Pennycress about her room in the attic and the creepy, whispering urn. I figured it was a long shot since she seems like a busy lady, but she wrote me back.”

  “That was Ms. Pennycress’s room?” He hung his wet towel on the back of his door.

  “Oh, I didn’t say, did I?” It was easy enough to act like that hadn’t been on purpose.

  “No, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s been visiting this place since before I was born. Nice lady, a little weird though.” He gestured to the envelope. “So, what does it say?”

  She looked him over once, standing there with some of the markings on his arm uncovered in the shorter sleeves. He still had on dark, tight jeans, but these ones were free of rips or wear, and he’d gotten halfway through tucking his shirt in before she’d knocked. With half-dry hair mussed up, a cleanly shaven face, and his piney, cardamom scent so strong, she forgot for another moment why she was there, then shook her head and slipped a finger under the wax seal to pop it off, consequences be damned.

  As Lorelei lifted the top fold of the envelope, a glow emanated from inside. She let the four corners of the paper unfold, no letter or even words within, but instead a ring imprinted on the paper’s center, beneath it the simple words Place Finger Here.