Birds of a Feather: The Paranormal University Files: Skylar, Year 2, Summer

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Birds of a Feather: The Paranormal University Files: Skylar, Year 2, Summer Page 8

by Savage, Vivienne


  I took her by the shoulders and held her gaze. “I know you’re upset, but we need to look at this objectively, without emotion getting in the way. She was bitten. Everything in this room is evidence right now.”

  Sky nodded and wiped her face. A moment passed, but then she was calm and reserved, though from the occasional tremble in her shoulders, I knew it was a mask. “There’s too much blood on the floor.”

  “Yeah. It’s also midday. Which suggests…?”

  “This wasn’t a nossie breaking in. It was a deliberate kill.” She squinted at the body through watery eyes. “And it’s all my fault.”

  * * *

  Two hours of our day vanished by the time we finished giving our statements to the sentinels on the scene. As we had been assigned to the night shift, I didn’t recognize either of them, but they handled the situation with professionalism.

  Really, all I cared about was Sky. She’d barely said more than a few words, except when giving her statement, and sat on the porch with a distant look in her eyes afterward while I chatted with the others who arrived. We weren’t included in this investigation, and a text from my uncle doubled down on his insistence that we take the day off.

  Like anyone could enjoy their afternoon once they’ve walked in on a murder scene.

  “We’re clear to leave. They don’t need us to come into the station.”

  “Okay. I’ll call a cab to the hotel.”

  In the name of optimism, I put on a smile I wasn’t really feeling. “We still got some daylight left if you want to go see that museum.”

  Sky shrugged.

  “Talk to me Sky.”

  “About?” Her gaze lifted to mine.

  “You can’t beat yourself up over this.”

  “Can’t I? Gabe, I was the one who involved Cassidy in this investigation. I nudged her to give us a picture.”

  “The only person to blame for what happened to that girl is the bastard who did it, Sky. There’s a murderer on the loose, and until he’s found, no one is safe.”

  “I put her in danger.”

  “You asked her a few official questions. Questions we’re obligated to ask as SBA. It’s our duty to investigate to the best of our ability.”

  I reached for her hand, but she jerked back and stumbled a step away from me. “Someone wanted to shut her up because of me. Maybe if I didn’t ask her to draw a sketch of Rebecca’s kidnapper, she’d still be alive.”

  “No, baby. Don’t you see, that means she was in danger regardless of whether you asked her specifically for help or not. This can happen any time to any witness.”

  “We need to find out who killed her.”

  “And we will, but not tonight.”

  “But we can help.”

  “No, Sky. This isn’t just about your birthday either. We’ve been working hard and we’re due for a day off. You won’t think clearly if you’re exhausted and overworked.”

  “How am I supposed to celebrate my birthday after someone died, Gabe?”

  When I reached for her again, Sky came against me without fighting it, letting me wrap both arms around her. The smell of her skin and hair filled my nose—wisteria, lemon, and everything nice that was the essence of an Italian countryside.

  That’s it. For months, I couldn’t put a name to what she smelled like, but if I had to sum up Sky in one word: Spring.

  “We’re going to celebrate because we’re alive.” I leaned back and took her face between both of my hands, meeting her eyes. “Because tomorrow it could be one of us. This job isn’t always catching the bad guys and kicking a lot of ass. We’re going to see death sometimes. Lots of times. And I’d rather spend this day with you than holed up in the hotel until we return to shift tomorrow night. I don’t think the dead would begrudge us what happiness we can find.”

  “You’re really smart sometimes.”

  “I do my best.” A fat tear rolled down her cheek, so I swiped it away and kissed her. When the final remnants of tension vanished, she leaned back, not smiling but no longer looking hopeless, like someone had just drowned her first kitten in front of her.

  “Maybe skip the museum but walk through a park?”

  “Sure.”

  We caught a ride with an Uber and returned to the French Quarter for an afternoon spent meandering through the parks and streets. As street performers tended to be a constant perk of visiting New Orleans, Sky’s mood steadily improved. She loved music, and despite my teasing her once, had amazing rhythm when it came to dancing. We splurged on beignets and eventually wandered toward the river.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “It’s a surprise. Think you can glamour us up some fancy duds?”

  Her brows rose a mile. “How fancy?”

  “Nothing too extravagant. Just the usual night on the town look. Dressy but not as dressy as your dad would do.” I paused, considering the atmosphere on the website for the night’s dinner reservation. “Actually, that level of dressy will do. Go wild.”

  “Maybe we should step into the Twilight then, if I’m weaving Rags-to-Riches.” Her hand claimed mine, then she pulled me across the diaphanous curtain separating the two realms. Once there, her magic billowed over me like a glittering tide, transforming my ripped jeans and Michael Myers T-shirt into dark slacks and a navy button-down shirt. For herself, she conjured a strapless black dress with a flirty hem that danced around her knees matched with scarlet heels.

  “Perfect.”

  “You think?” she did a little twirl. “It was this or skinny jeans and a sparkly top.”

  “No, really, you look amazing.” I offered her my arm. “Shall we?”

  Sky took us back to the mortal realm, concealing our sudden arrival with a Prismatic Cloak until we found a place to reappear without causing a stir. I took the lead and guided her down to a pier where a steamboat was docked. A crowd had already gathered, waiting for boarding time.

  “What’s this?” she turned and looked up at me, eyes wide.

  “Surprise.”

  Past-me of two months ago was a genius. I’d booked a two-hour evening cruise with a five-course dinner and a live jazz band. As sunset painted the sky with a watercolor backdrop, we boarded a steamboat named the Creole Prince, which carried us up the Mississippi River. A waiter escorted us to a romantic, candlelit table for two.

  Instead of practicing responsibility, I nudged Sky and pointed to the drink menu.

  A deep line notched between her brows. “But I’m not—”

  “Shh. Order.”

  It was both amusing and endearing to watch her face as she read over the list. Sometimes her eyes lit with glee and a few times her lips twisted. I glanced at my own list and tried to guess which cocktails didn’t make her cut.

  “Mint Julep,” she announced.

  “Traditional choice. I like it.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m going to be bold and try the Vieux Carre.” Some friends mentioned it was the quintessential cocktail to try while in New Orleans, and I was game to try anything once.

  The band kept the music low and unobtrusive during the meal. Sky and I shared sips of our drinks and traded tidbits from our selected creole courses. Until it came to dessert. She took one bite of her chocolate bourbon bread pudding and immediately pulled the bowl out of my reach.

  “C’mon, one bite.”

  “Nuh-uh. You have crème brûlée. This is mine.”

  “Goddammit, you’re going to make me order my own, aren’t you?”

  “Yup.”

  “Then bum half of it,” I predicted.

  Her eyes glittered. “Maybe.”

  Unable to deny the birthday girl anything, I requested another round of desserts after we polished off what we already had, though we could finish neither and ended up with leftovers she stowed in the Neverspace for later.

  Another bonus of dating a faerie emerged; I would never have to carry takeout boxes again. The Neverspace was a weird place where food didn’t appear
to spoil and didn’t require refrigeration.

  We ordered more cocktails. She’d liked the sip she had of mine and wanted a whole one for herself. Since the night was all about treating Sky, I let her have it. And then a third round. No one carded her due to the basic, low-level illusion I ran that made the both of us appear to be roughly as old as our parents.

  Older adults tended to get better service than young couples when it came to dining nights out. I didn’t let Sky in on the secret.

  Me and Dad, we had a likeness to each other that was actually kind of creepy—twin-level similarity but removed by two decades. Obaasan liked showing me photos of him as a kid, and now that Dad was approaching fifty and getting a couple gray hairs, I had a solid idea of how I’d look.

  “How you liking that Hurricane?”

  Sky peered at me over the rim of the orange-red drink that came to her in a tall glass. They’d gone a little heavy on the dark rum, turning it closer to amber. “It’s…” She paused to suck more through the straw. Little Gabe chose that inappropriate moment to perk up with interest.

  There I was, rock bottom, getting turned on by the sight of my girl sipping booze through a straw. I sighed.

  “It’s really good. Like, crazily good.”

  “Maybe you should have another.”

  “Maybe we should go on that cocktail tour if you’re going to let me drink this much.”

  “Maybe we should,” I replied, deciding to hell with responsibility. Though the tours were probably all booked for the night or over by now. We’d have to take one before we left for Texas. She wasn’t twenty-one yet but fuck it. The words I’d said to her earlier stayed with me, chiseled into my evening thoughts. Nothing guaranteed we’d have next year. Or tomorrow, not when our chosen careers launched us headfirst into danger on a daily basis. We couldn’t take a step out of PNRU without some ghoul hurling itself at my fist or her spells. Those vampires we encountered in the alley proved that.

  A second band played on the main deck. As diners finished their meals, most wandered outside to enjoy the music, the view, and some fresh air. Others made their way to the dance floor.

  “Shall we dance or did you want to get another drink?” I asked.

  She slurped the rest of her drink then rose and offered her hand. “Dancing, of course.”

  With so many romantic, happy couples onboard, I hoped she was siphoning some of the excess energy. At least, I thought she was, because some of her natural glow and cheer had returned. We stepped onto the dance floor as the band started up a slow ballad. I pulled Sky into my arms and she laid her head against my shoulder, her body close, her scent enveloping me.

  “Happy Birthday, Sky.”

  Her arms tightened around me. “Thank you for being the best boyfriend.”

  I chuckled against her hair and kissed her crown. “It’s what I’m here for.”

  She lifted her head and looked up at me. “No, really, I mean it. You’re…you’re truly the best, Gabe. I trust you as my partner and I trust you as my guy.”

  “Even if I get jealous sometimes?”

  Her nose wrinkled as she grinned. “Especially when you get jealous. It’s kinda cute.”

  Despite the midday horror, our night passed by smooth as glass without a single bump. We danced most of the cruise or watched the shore passing by from the rail. Once we disembarked, we strolled hand in hand through the French Quarter. We lingered near a street performer on a saxophone for a half hour, tossing a twenty into his bucket when we were ready to move on. After that, we meandered through the New Orleans nightlife until we found our way back to the chateau.

  Someone on staff had already brought Ama up and settled her in the cage for the night. I checked on her anyway, receiving a sleepy but grumpy chirp, and then left her alone. Hopefully one day soon she’d forgive me. Ama hated change, but I didn’t plan to boot Sky out of my life any time soon.

  “Everything good?” Sky asked when I joined her in the bedroom.

  “The usual.”

  Her lips twisted into a momentary frown, so brief I might have imagined it, then she was smiling again. A little flick from her wand undid our glamoured clothes. I actually liked what she did up for me, which meant I’d have to hunt down the real outfit and buy it.

  “I’ll go get changed in the bathroom.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Uh…” We hadn’t undressed entirely in front of one another yet, and she’d definitely not seen me in less than my boxers. When Sky shimmied out of her jeans, my brain to mouth filter broke. “Damn you’re hot.” Smooth, man. Real fucking smooth.

  Her smile widened into a grin, and she crossed the space between us in a blink. “You’re not so bad-looking yourself. And entirely overdressed.”

  The snick of my jeans button popping sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room. Transfixed, I watched as my girlfriend tugged down my jeans, crouching as she went, her face dangerously close to my crotch. The animal part of me wanted to grab her by the hair and direct her closer. Maybe she knew it, too, because she slanted a sly glance up at me.

  Her warm hand slipped inside my shorts. Considering the three cocktails she’d sipped during dinner, sense and honor told me to decline anything she offered tonight, even if it was the one physical act I wanted most between us. Herculean effort—all mental—pushed her hand away. She blinked up at me.

  “You’ve had a little too much to drink, Sky.”

  “I’m not drunk, silly.”

  “Tipsy then.”

  She dragged my dick out with her other hand, exposing me to her for the first time. My breath caught in my throat. “Slightly tipsy, but not drunk, and absolutely aware of what the hell I’m doing. I’m not a lightweight, remember?”

  Then her hot, wet mouth surrounded me, and any hope I had of turning her down disintegrated.

  “But it’s your birthday. I kinda wanted to—fuck, that’s good.”

  Her mouth came off me with a slight pop. “What can I say, I’m a fairy. Giving is what we do.”

  Instead of fighting her off and banishing her to the other bed, I gave into her coaxing nudge and sat down on the end of the bed. The swirl of her tongue around my ridged crown was both heaven and hell. She pushed at my chest with one hand and I fell back. Then I melted into the covers and involuntarily rolled my hips. She dragged me deeper, licking and teasing, lips working along my length. I groaned, and the sound she wrung out of me was so pitiful she giggled.

  Dragging her lips off of me made a wet, lewd sound. “Since I can’t do what I really want to do to you…this is just going to have to suffice.”

  She glowed a little around the edges, golden and pink and so goddamned pretty I didn’t care what she did to me as long as that light didn’t fade.

  10

  To Harass and Protect

  I woke up Sunday afternoon to find Sky already showered and dressed in jeans, a button-down blouse, and low-heeled boots, perched on the edge of my bed and watching Ama. My little girl watched her in return, bobbing her head, occasionally banging her beak on the bars, and making every threatening gesture in her repertoire.

  “I wonder if she’ll ever like me.”

  Yawning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “She will. Sometimes birds go through phases.”

  Ama and Sky were in the same stare-off when I emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, showered, half-dressed, and toweling my wet hair.

  Only one thing to do about that. I stepped between them, took Sky’s face in my hands, and kissed her. Ama squawked behind me with righteous indignation and Sky made a startled squeak. Then her pliant body bowed back under my guidance until she lay against the covers and surrendered to my pressing tongue. After last night, the desire to show her how much I cared was stronger than ever. I didn’t release her until we were both breathless.

  “Damn. That’s a nice greeting.”

  “I say we make it a habit,” I suggested. Then I kissed her again to drive home the point, because if I could kiss her every
day, I’d be a happy man. And by the way she flushed with a soft glow, she was happy too.

  “So, what’s on the agenda today?” I asked once I released her and stood. “Room service breakfast or should we find something in town?”

  “You mean lunch?”

  “Er…” A glance at the clock confirmed we’d slept past noon. “Yeah. Lunch.”

  “How about that café we passed last night?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Contrasting her usual behavior when Sky was near, Ama didn’t lose her shit when I opened the cage and asked her to step up onto my hand. We carried her down to the lobby, left her with her new pal, and strolled hand in hand down the street to a café known for its shrimp and cheese grits.

  Halfway through our meal, my uncle texted me instructions and directions for work. Rather than going to the field office, we reported to Rose Hill Plantation with the rest of the NOLA SBA team. When Baron Aguillard dragged his feet about letting us rifle through his mother’s belongings, Jolene acquired a search warrant from a judge who owed her a favor. On one hand, I understood the reluctance of having the law all up in your business, but on the other, if somebody had murdered my mama, I’d move heaven and earth to find the guilty party.

  “This is unprecedented,” a balding, overweight human blustered at us when we approached the porch with our paperwork. “An invasion of privacy and yet another crime against the deceased.”

  Oh lord.

  “My client’s mother valued her privacy above all other things. There are centuries of secrets within these walls, and they are not fit for the eyes of mere mortals and shapeshifters.”

  Jolene leaned back and placed both hands on her hips. “I’m a mage. Neither a shapeshifter nor a mere mortal.” Her bear shifter partner chuckled.

  The oily lawyer sneered as he mopped his brow with a handkerchief. “You must keep your hands away from the late baroness’s belongings. Mana residue can cause irreversible damage to many treasures within her collection. This is an absurd abuse of power and overreach, as well as continued harassment of my client.” Spell usage left behind evidence, much as faerie glamours left traces of faerie dust.

 

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