Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
With Stephen and his shadow reunited, I finally told Justine the truth about Darlene’s death.
She was too distraught and distracted by the word “murder” to ask for any clarifying details, for which I was grateful.
The wizard was whisked to the mainland before the crack of dawn to await trial.
The HOA wasted no time removing “spoiled apples from the bunch,” as Justine put it.
I slept poorly that night. Evermore was meant to be a safe place, or at least safe from the kinds of serious crimes that plagued the mainland.
What ever happened to catching the Neighbor that chucked eggs at someone else’s golf cart?
Or rooting out the culprit that vandalized the Poseidon statue in the fountain with a spray-painted penis?
I missed those minor security issues. The world was beginning to feel heavy.
That weight had nearly crushed me once; I refused to allow it again.
I awoke the next day to the sound of a bird chirping beside me. I forced my eyes open and looked at the bedside table. Not a bird. My phone. Well, that made more sense.
My arm felt like it weighed seventy pounds as I dragged it across the bed to retrieve the phone. “Hello,” I mumbled. My tongue tasted like a cotton ball. I must’ve slept with my mouth wide open all night.
“Late-night bender?”
Vale’s voice was like a splash of ice-cold water. I slid to an upright position and tried to clear the haze from my head. “That would’ve been preferable.”
“Maybe my good news will cure whatever ails you. Thanks to your sketch, Harriet found your elf’s mystery woman.”
That was good news. “Well done, Harriet. Where is she?”
“Local, just as you suspected. Try not to be smug about it. Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.”
I wiped the crumbs from the corners of my eyes. “Trust me, smug is the last thing I’m feeling right now. Any luck finding the Coranians?”
“Not yet, but it won’t be long until they make their move. You heard them. They want the stone they think we have.”
“I hope you’re ready for them.”
“As ready as we can be. How soon can you get here?”
“For what?
“To positively ID the faerie so we can take her into custody.”
I swung my legs off the side of the bed. “Right, of course. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
“I’ll send—”
“Your yacht, I know. Listen, I appreciate the free boat rides, but I’m not on your payroll. I’ll make my own way there.”
“Seems unnecessary when I have a boat at my disposal.”
“I have one at mine too.” That was a lie, but I could commandeer one if I had to. The ferry wouldn’t get me there fast enough.
“Fine. Meet me at the corner of Jones and Lincoln in an hour.”
“See you then.” I catapulted myself out of bed and straight into the shower before my body had a chance to object.
Jones Street was atmospheric art; a narrow ribbon of brick and shadow tucked beneath a canopy of live oaks with moss-draped branches that arched overhead like cathedral vaults.
Gaslight glowed soft and amber against the black latticework, blurring the line between past and present.
The air smelled like damp earth, old iron, and something faintly sweet.
I sensed old magic here. It hummed beneath my feet and all around me. It was a good sign.
Cowboy and Vale loitered on the corner next to a black pickup truck.
“We were beginning to think you’d changed your mind,” Vale said.
“It took me longer than expected.” In truth, the first boat I “commandeered” already had passengers, so I had to scramble to find another one. Island problems.
“Which house is it, boss?” Cowboy asked.
“Harriet wasn’t sure. Her spell only identified the block.”
And quite a block it was. Planters and vibrant green ground cover bordered the area between the street and the walking path.
The red brick sidewalk bore the smooth polish of thousands of footsteps, eventually giving way to more modern concrete.
We took our time, appraising each building with a critical eye, as though one might display a flashing arrow with a sign that read: Soul-Sucking Faerie This Way.
My magical antennae pinged when I passed an extensive garden wall and a gate. I stopped at the next corner in front of a moss-covered three-story brick house. “It’s this one.”
“How can you be sure?” Vale asked.
“This magic is strongest here.” And inside the building was the source of the magic I’d felt on arrival. No wonder Harriet identified the whole block. I could feel it pulsing like a mystical heartbeat.
“You’re like one of those metal detectors,” Cowboy said, suitably impressed. The vampire’s gaze flicked to Vale. “Makes you wonder what other abilities she has, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” Vale said, still looking at me with a curious expression. “It certainly does.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” I said. “Detecting magic is part of my job. If I couldn’t do it, they’d have to hire someone else to handle security.”
“Your boss—the one who died—was he able to detect magic?” Vale asked.
“No, Judd was a werewolf, which is why they need me.” Strictly speaking, I was full of shit.
The Neighborhood rules forbade unauthorized magic, that was true, but Justine didn’t send me around the island to sniff out rogue spells.
We had far more important concerns than Meemaw’s magical edibles.
Of course, maybe if the HOA took unauthorized magic more seriously, Darlene Garvey would still be alive.
If there was a way to strike a balance between overbearing and underreacting, I’d yet to discover it.
We contemplated the grand staircase that led to a shiny black door.
“I should speak for us,” Vale said, climbing the steps. “She might not resist if she knows who she’s dealing with right from the start.”
“She’s been operating under your nose for weeks and probably longer,” I replied, hurrying behind him. “What makes you think she’s going to respect you?”
He rang the doorbell. “Not respect me.” He faced the door. “I expect her to fear me.”
The door opened. I couldn’t see past Vale’s broad set of shoulders.
“Good morning. We’re looking for Leanne,” he said.
“Who’s we?” a voice replied. Soft, feminine, lilting.
Leanne.
I poked my head around Vale so that Leanne appeared in my line of sight. The faerie was every inch as beautiful as her dream version. If anything, she was even more stunning. Shock glinted in her eyes, so fleeting I might have imagined it.
“My name is Vale, and these are my associates, Maya and Cowboy.”
Leanne maintained her fixed pearly whites. “Vale, you say? As in the Protector of the Region?”
“The very one.”
Cowboy doffed his hat. “Good morning, ma’am.”
Her eyes skimmed him from top to bottom. “Well, aren’t you respectful?” She widened the door gap. “Please come in.”
History had settled into the bones of the house.
Heart-pine floors glowed a deep honeyed brown, their boards worn smooth by centuries of careful steps and probably a few desperate ones.
The high ceilings pressed upward into shadow, where plaster medallions and faint hairline cracks mapped out the years better than any calendar.
Tall windows, dressed in heavy drapes, filtered the light into long, amber slants that caught dust motes drifting like suspended sparks of magic.
“We’ll be most comfortable in the parlor room,” Leanne said, leading the way. Her fresh blue-and-white floral dress was in stark contrast to the aging environment.
The parlor held itself with quiet dignity. My eye was drawn to the carved mantel, a marble as cold as the unused fireplace below it. The air carried layered scents—beeswax, old paper, camellia, and something mineral, like rain-soaked stones.
“Won’t you please sit down? Can I offer you a refreshment? I have a fresh batch of sweet tea.”
That wasn’t all she had. The parlor room was chock-full of antiques.
Every object seemed placed with intention, as if the hostess was subtly guiding her guests to where she wanted them to stand, or what she wanted them to notice.
There was an entire mahogany chest with glass doors, and the shelves were lined with what were no doubt priceless possessions.
It stood to reason that Leanne was old enough to have accumulated these items along the way and hoarded them.
The faerie sank onto the deep red velvet cushion of a settee with a gold-leaf frame. “It’s an honor to be graced by your divine presence, Protector.”
“In the interest of saving time, I’ll get straight to the point.”
“No need to rush, Protector. You’re welcome to linger in my home for as long as you like.” Her flirtatious gaze slid to Cowboy. “You, too, Mr. Cowboy.”
Vale was unaffected. “We have reason to believe you’ve been extracting the life force of a man named Ronald.” He looked at me.
“Greenleaf,” I added.
“I’m afraid I don’t know anyone named Ronald Greenleaf off the top of my head. Where does he live? That might jog my memory.”
“He’s barely living at this point, which is why we’re here,” Vale replied.
“You’re not seriously going to play dumb right now, are you? You recognized me at the door,” I said.
“I don’t know what you mean. If I reacted at all, it was the shock of seeing a beautiful young woman on my doorstep.”
Cowboy snorted. “You only say that because you haven’t seen her at the end of a boat ride.”
“I take it Ronald lives in Savannah, if the Protector of the Region himself has come calling.” She uncrossed and recrossed her long, slender legs. “Tell me, Protector. What interest do you have in an aging elf?”
I pounced. “No one here said Ronald was an elf.”
She didn’t even flinch. “No? I’m sure one of you did.”
“Maybe we did,” Vale said, cutting me off before I could speak again. “What is it you do for a living, Leanne?”
She leaned back and draped both arms along the back of the settee. “I own an auction house on Bull Street. Loving Auction and Appraisals.”
“Loving?” Vale repeated.