33. Sedrick
Sedrick
“W hen is Phil coming back?” Dillon poked at his chicken nuggets, running them through ketchup, making them soggy. Ruthie wasn’t any better. Truth be told, neither was I.
“Soon.” It was my standard, go-to answer, and if the scathing look Dillon sent my way was anything to go by, it was wearing thin.
“Tonight?” Dillon asked, thrusting out his chin. “You said he could come back after the hearing, and that’s tonight. Can we go pick him up as soon as you get back?”
I ran my hand over my beard. For the first time since Phil left, I’d taken the time to properly groom myself.
I was neatly trimmed and dressed in the suit I’d commissioned from Beezie’s Boutique.
Beezie got it done just in time. I still hadn’t heard if Phil’s clothes were ready.
I’d left that up to Peaches, and I think he’d contracted with Petal’s Posh Pants but wasn’t certain.
I’d tried not to think about it over the past few days.
Every time I thought of Phil and the fact I wouldn’t come home to him, I felt sick.
I still had half a chicken breast left on my plate and couldn’t muster up much more of an appetite than Dillon and Ruthie.
“There’s a good chance tonight will just be the beginning of the hearing, Dillon.
I doubt it’ll be decided so soon. We want Phil to be safe, so he’ll need to stay away until the final ruling comes in. ”
Dillon slumped into his chair. Ruthie had started pulling her chair closer to her brother again, and the two seats nearly touched. “I know, but Phil’s pack. He belongs here with us. Even the house thinks so.”
It wasn’t the first time Dillon had made a comment like that. The first couple of times, I’d dismissed them. But my nephew was right. The house felt cold and unwelcoming. Or maybe just sad. It was hard to pin down and even more difficult to figure out. Most likely it was just me projecting.
Mirroring Dillon, I leaned back into my chair and pushed my dinner away.
I’d had to leave Dillon and Ruthie with Burt and Oliver’s family during the day while I worked and couldn’t keep an eye on them myself.
At first, they’d had fun, but the novelty quickly faded, and now I felt bad about dropping off two grumpy were children on their doorstep.
Regardless, I planned to do that again tonight before I left for the hearing.
“I know things seem colder without Phil here.”
Dillon huffed. “They don’t just seem that way, Uncle Sed.
The house is colder.” Dillon threw out an arm and pointed toward the thermostat.
“All you gotta do is look at the temperature. I don’t care how many fires you light.
The house just stays cold and gloomy. It misses Phil as much as we do.
Maybe sending him away wasn’t the right thing to do. ”
Dillon’s words echoed my own feelings. I’d had second, third, and fiftieth thoughts regarding my decision. It had seemed right at the time, but looking back on it now . . . maybe it wasn’t.
Leaning forward, Dillon glanced at Ruthie before earnestly asking, “Is Phil okay? We’ve been good. We haven’t called or contacted him. How do we even know if it worked? Maybe Grandpa Arie didn’t leave him alone like you and Ray thought he would. Maybe—”
“Phil is fine,” I answered, holding up a hand to halt Dillon’s growing anxiety.
Ruthie’s large, round eyes mimicked her brother.
“But how do you know?” Dillon whined, and I heard the hint of his wolf in my nephew’s voice.
“I know because Mr. Moony is keeping an eye on Phil for us.”
I wasn’t privy to Ray’s private life or who he did or didn’t know.
Evidently, my lawyer and Lucroy Moony were old .
. . friends? Acquaintances? I wasn’t clear on the relationship beyond that it was on good terms. There also seemed to be some animosity on Lucroy Moony’s part where the Belviews were concerned.
It was a commonly shared viewpoint across many species.
From what I understood, Lucroy Moony had been more than happy to help out where Phil was concerned.
He’d also somehow gotten the judge changed for the hearing.
Vampires often made good judges and weren’t easily swayed.
Beyond the fact that the hearing was now at night, I was pleased with the outcome.
Dillon cocked his head to the side, and Ruthie copied the movement. “Mr. Moony? The vampire?”
“The one and only,” I answered. “You two done with dinner?” I picked up their plates when I got twin nods.
“Ray gets a report every twenty-four hours and told me he’d let me know if anything happened that’s concerning.
So far, it looks like Arie’s leaving Phil alone, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.
Do you?” I gave Dillon and Ruthie pointed looks.
“No,” Dillon grumbled.
Ruthie shook her head in the negative. My niece had taken several steps back since Phil walked out the door. Now there was barely a whisper that slipped past her lips.
“Good.” I glanced down at my watch and noted the time. The sun should set in the next thirty minutes. “Ray will be here soon. The two of you should get cleaned up and ready to head to Burt’s.”
Burt had offered to watch the kids tonight, sparing them from Oliver’s crass language.
Reluctantly, Dillon slid out of his chair and headed for his room.
Ruthie scampered after, her ragged, stuffed bunny held within a death grip.
I’d just set the dinner dishes in the sink when there was a knock at the door. A quick inhale told me Ray was on the other side, but he wasn’t alone. Curious, I opened the door, and the hinges creaked like they were even more reluctant to work than Dillon and Ruthie had been to get cleaned up.
Immaculate as ever, Ray stood on the other side, briefcase in hand. The sides of his crimson hair were pulled back into a neat braid. Ray’s dark gray suit and crisp white shirt looked stark against the flowing cream-and-gold fabric that floated around the pixie hovering by his side.
“Ray. Peaches?” I added with a raised eyebrow.
Peaches’s gaze darted between my lawyer and me. He held a box in his arms, wrapped in bright pink paper, a gauzy lighter pink ribbon wrapped across its length. “I’m sorry to intrude,” Peaches apologized. “I tried to call Phil, but he didn’t answer. Maybe I should have tried you before I came out.”
I peeked around Peaches and noted two cars in the driveway. One was idling and was probably Peaches’s ride. The other was Ray’s.
“You’re not intruding,” I answered before motioning Ray and Peaches inside. “I’m just a little confused about why you’re here, that’s all.” I nodded to Ray, and he followed Peaches inside.
Ray held a handkerchief up to his nose to block out Peaches’s pixie dust. The trick must have worked because he didn’t sneeze even once.
“Oh.” Peaches’s wings fluttered, sending out another rush of dust. “Is Phil not here?” Peaches looked around and visibly shivered.
His wings stilled, and he landed on the floorboards.
Dropping off his package, Peaches wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing his hands up and down his exposed skin.
“I’m sorry,” he offered me a wane smile, “it’s just a little chilly in here.
” Peaches sounded confused, and his gaze darted off toward another corner.
Ray and I shared a look, and I realized he didn’t know who Peaches was or the significance of his question. “Ray, this is Peaches. He’s Phil’s friend and helped us out with the gnome situation.”
Peaches flushed. “I’m afraid I didn’t help as much as I would have liked. Things kind of went poorly that day.”
Ray didn’t necessarily agree. “From what I understand, that was hardly your fault, Peaches.”
With the introductions out of the way, I said, “Phil isn’t here, Peaches. Why did you think he would be?”
Peaches’s wings flicked once before they stilled again. His eyes were wide when he asked, “Why wouldn’t Phil be here? I thought he had moved in permanently. Or at least almost so.”
I wanted to look at Ray but couldn’t tear my eyes away from Peaches.
He wasn’t my pixie, but he was a tie to Phil, and I craved every little morsel I could get.
“Phil hasn’t been here for days, probably close to two weeks.
He’s back at the boarding house and working at Dusk.
” The words grated out of my mouth, scratching like toxic poison as they exited my throat.
A low, rumbling growl accompanied them as my wolf let its displeasure be known.
“Wh-what?” Peaches fisted the fabric over his heart. “Why? When? I . . .” Peaches’s eyes were frantic. “Where are the children? Are they—”
“They’re fine,” I quickly answered, trying to ease that bit of anxiety. “Dillon and Ruthie are in their rooms. Or, well, one of their rooms, getting ready to leave for the night.”
Peaches’s wings fluttered again. Anxiety gone, anger took its place. “What did you do?” Peaches flew at my face, and suddenly I had an angry garden pixie all up in my business. “Why isn’t Phil here? I’m only going to ask one more time, what did you do to Phil?”
Ray’s hand appeared seemingly out of nowhere, his palm pressed against Peaches’s chest, gently pushing him back and away from me. Peaches allowed himself to be moved, but he remained airborne, and pixie dust littered the living room.
I started sneezing.
“Perhaps I should explain,” Ray offered.
Amid a sneezing fit, I waved Ray on, begging him to explain a situation I couldn’t. By the time Ray had lain it all out for Peaches, the pixie was firmly grounded, and his dust was long gone. Stumbling to the side, Peaches reached for the couch to steady himself.