Chapter 3 Tea and Suspicion
TEA AND SUSPICION
The Parkside apartment building looked exactly the same as it had two weeks ago, which was a little disappointing.
I’d half expected it to have transformed into something overtly supernatural now that I knew its secret.
But no. It was still the same slightly shabby brick building with the temperamental elevator and the perpetually dying plant in the lobby.
Ellie and Virgil were waiting just inside the entrance.
My best friend looked distinctly nervous, which was saying something for a woman who’d helped stake an ancient vampire in a mine while high on newborn bloodlust. Then again, I’d known Ellie since we were in kindergarten and I was still having a difficult time reconciling my sweet and ditsy best friend with the freakishly strong vampire who’d helped me capture Ludvik Bludworth.
Virgil stood beside her, tall and pale and not looking the least bit like the scion of one of Amberford’s most influential supernatural families. He’d lost a few piercings and was wearing a T-shirt that said “Support Your Local Blood Bank.”
“You came.” Ellie rushed forward to hug me. “I was worried you’d forget.”
“You sent me seventeen reminder texts.” I hugged her back, her newly turned vampire scent filling my nostrils. I was starting to get used to it.
“Eighteen,” Virgil murmured. “The last one was just exclamation points.”
“I noticed,” I said drily.
Bo trotted over to sniff Virgil’s trainers curiously. “You smell like coffee and anxiety. And humping.” He curled a lip and retreated a couple of steps. “Lots of humping.”
Virgil vibrated with indignation. “Could you please not?!”
I smirked at Ellie while the vampire and my dog engaged in a heated verbal match about respecting boundaries.
“Didn’t take you long to rid him of his virginity, I see?”
Ellie had the decency to blush.
“He smells so good I have to stop myself from licking him like a lollipop most days,” she confessed sheepishly.
“Ellie!” Virgil squeaked, going tomato red.
I grimaced. Bo made barfing noises.
Yeah, that was too much information.
The building doors opened behind us. Mrs. Chen stepped inside the lobby, her cat Mimi riding her shoulder like a furry parrot.
The elderly witch was carrying a shopping bag.
“Ah, good. You came.” Her gaze swept over our group with a careful expression. “The meeting starts in ten minutes. Don’t be late.” Her eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary. “We have a lot to discuss tonight.”
She swept past us toward the stairs, Mimi’s tail flicking dismissively in our direction. We watched her go.
“Is it just me,” Ellie said slowly, “or did that sound ominous?”
“It’s not just you,” Virgil confirmed.
I was starting to get a bad feeling about this meeting.
I squared my shoulders and headed for the stairs. “Only one way to find out.”
Mrs. Chen’s apartment was on the first floor, tucked into a corner that permanently smelled of something vaguely medicinal. I’d walked past it hundreds of times over the years without ever suspecting its occupant could turn me into a toad if I annoyed her.
The door was already open when we arrived.
I stepped inside and was immediately struck by the scent of jasmine tea and dried herbs.
Bookcases lined the narrow hallway we found ourselves in.
The shelves were stuffed with leather-bound volumes and jars of things best not examined too closely.
A narrow kitchen was visible through a beaded curtain ahead. Mrs. Chen was busy inside it.
Bo’s nose twitched. “I smell old magic and cat judgment.”
Mimi materialized from behind a potted fern and flicked her tail irritably. “The judgment is warranted, mutt. Wipe your paws.” She glanced at me and the two vampires. “That includes you three.”
I vaguely considered a situation where Pearl and Mimi became friends and decided Amberford would not survive such a scenario.
“Go right on ahead,” Mrs. Chen called out from the kitchen. “Everyone’s already here.”
The sitting room was warm and cluttered.
A well-worn Persian rug covered most of the floor.
Mismatched armchairs were clustered around a fireplace.
Plants hung from the ceiling and crowded the windowsills, some of which I was fairly sure weren’t legal in most states.
More shelves lined with jars of dried herbs and suspiciously labeled ingredients crowded the walls, while stacks of leather-bound books that looked like they might bite were wedged between potted plants.
A velvet armchair that was clearly Mimi’s throne squatted by a window.
I took all this in at a glance before focusing on the occupants crowding the space with a multitude of supernatural scents.
A cluster of small figures occupied a loveseat near one of the windows. Brownies, I realized from the supernatural lessons Victoria and Samuel had been giving me, their diminutive forms barely visible above the armrest. It was my first time seeing them.
They were bickering in high-pitched voices about something involving a missing sock and accusations of “unauthorized reorganization.”
“The Hendersons from 2A,” Ellie whispered. “They’ve been rearranging everyone’s belongings for years apparently. I thought I was losing my mind when our kitchen stuff kept changing location.”
That explained a lot about my mysteriously migrating coffee mugs. I suddenly felt guilty for blaming Ellie for our domestic chaos all these years.
Virgil nodded politely at a couple of elderly vampires in vintage flapper dresses.
“The Lopez sisters from 5C,” he offered quietly. “They got turned in the 1920s.” He paused. “If they ever invite you to one of their “blood tea” socials, make up an excuse not to attend.”
Ellie paled. Bo gulped.
“Let me guess?” I hazarded. “They use real blood?”
“They use weed. Also, Mildred will critique your neck veins and Edna will inflict her porcelain dolls on you.” Virgil shuddered. “Apparently, they move on their own.”
Bo’s ears flattened. Yeah, that was going to give me nightmares too.
“How do you even know this stuff?” Ellie breathed, her eyes shining with the kind of admiration that promised future humping.
“The regulars at Bean Me Up talk a lot,” Virgil grunted, his ears reddening.
I caught sight of a gaunt figure lurking near a bookshelf. It was Mr. Kowalski from 3B. His skin carried a grayish pallor I’d previously attributed to poor hallway lighting and his scent was disturbingly familiar.
“Ghoul,” Virgil confirmed.
A fae couple who looked like they’d wandered out of a Victorian fairy illustration perched delicately on a two-seater next to the ghoul.
“That’s Thornton and Sage Willow, from 4B,” Ellie said.
“I bumped into them in the elevator the other day. They’re obsessed with their rooftop herb garden and are almost certainly responsible for “the incident” involving the pixies that no one will discuss.
Apparently, they pay their rent in gold coins that Mrs. Chen has to take to a specialty exchange. ”
Bo and I traded a look. It seemed a lot had happened in the two weeks we had been away from this place.
A faint sulfurous smell drew my attention to a shadowy corner. Something shifted in the darkness. I caught a glimpse of horns and glowing eyes before the figure retreated farther into the gloom.
I almost swallowed my tongue when Mrs. Chen appeared soundlessly at my shoulder.
“That’s Keith,” the witch said. “He lives in the basement. Handles pest control.”
Ellie blinked owlishly. “Pest control?”
“You don’t want to know what kind of pests try to nest in buildings with this much ambient magic. Let’s just say Keith earns his keep.” The witch clapped her hands. “Everyone, take your seats. We have a full agenda tonight.”
The room immediately fell silent.
Daria Tilcott, the chair of the Amberford Alliance, would have been impressed.