Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
A hard knock sounded at my door.
I frowned, because I didn’t think J.M. was the type to pound, but I wasn’t expecting anyone else.
I sprayed a bit of hairspray on my newly styled hair and headed out of the bathroom.
It was Monday. We could’ve returned yesterday evening, but the whole crew had decided it was a great idea to take a day to recuperate, sightsee, and actually enjoy the town. Oscar had been shocked when I told him it was over. He’d begun asking questions about the specifics, but just as quickly backed off and decided to investigate the remains of the site. Half of the information he got from me he wouldn’t be able to explain anyway.
Little did we know the guild mages would be stalking us the whole time. Looking menacing for long periods was actually harder—and more exhausting—than I’d expected. It kept the idiots away until we could make it back to the Edgewater Hotel, though, a place the guild didn’t seem to want any part of, so I wasn’t too put out.
I’d asked Darius what was going on between the mages and the vampires in that area, and how he’d come to know Penny, but he hadn’t given me a thorough answer. What I could deduce was that he’d helped out Mr. Regent the month previous, but didn’t have any direct dealings in Seattle. From his vague answers, I figured that the vampires didn’t like anyone having jurisdiction over them. They had to tolerate the elves in the Realm, since no one could unseat the elves’ power, but the vampires had decided they would no longer tolerate the guild. Somehow, Penny and some other mysterious mage were the reason. Darius wouldn’t say how, or who this other rogue mage was, but I had a feeling it had to do with a massive amount of power.
I’d quickly decided that it wasn’t my problem. In the last couple of months, I’d had some pretty close calls. I needed to lie low for a while. I hated it, but Garret would stay the king of the NOLA MLE office for a while longer, the douche.
Tonight I would connect with J.M. to see if he’d made any progress on dealing with magical people, because I’d made a promise. Truth be told, I didn’t really care. I’d help the guy out if he needed it, sure, but after everything I’d dealt with recently, I would just as soon stay in with a bottle of wine.
I opened my door to the surly face of No Good Mikey.
“Hey,” I said, leaving the door open and heading to the kitchen. A glass of wine while I waited sounded like just the ticket. “Want a drink?”
“Am I supposed to come in, then?”
“What was your first clue, the opened door or the offer of a libation?”
“Her and her fancy words,” I heard him mutter. He appeared in the archway to the kitchen and promptly leaned against the side. “What do you got?”
“Wine, beer, whiskey, cognac, vodka, Baileys—”
“A beer, thanks. Any kind, doesn’t matter.”
“Good. Because I only have one kind.” I grabbed out a bottle, popped the top, and handed it over. “What’s up?”
“Where you been?”
“Seattle. For work.”
He grunted before taking a sip. “Smokey said it was quiet while you were gone. You know, for the stuff he watches. The normal crime in the area went up, though. Some thugs are trying to throw their weight around. Expand their territory.” Mikey huffed and took another sip. “I figured I’d let it roll until you got back. Let them try and mug you.”
“Mug me ?” I poured myself a glass of red. What type specifically, I had no idea.
“Yeah. A pretty blond girl like you—when you have hair—walking all alone in the dead of night? They’ll think you’re easy prey.”
“That won’t be a nice surprise for them.”
“Like I said, I’ll wait until they try and mug you.”
I motioned for him to go back into the living room. He peeled off to the side to allow me out, then followed me. I plopped down on the couch. He hesitantly took the love seat, the first time he’d dared to get comfortable in my house.
“So what’s up?” I asked, because he always had a reason for coming around. I didn’t think he was the type to casually hang in someone else’s space.
“I’m not gonna lie—I’m still not easy about all that stuff I saw.” He threw an arm over the back of the couch. “That shit ain’t right.”
“Either you get used to it, or I kill you.”
His laugh said he’d like to see me try. “The other thing is that someone has been coming in here. I ain’t never seen him, or heard him, but Smokey said someone’s been going in through your back door when you aren’t home.”
“Did he see just one person?”
He squinted at me.
“There have been a few people coming in,” I said. “Or I think so, unless they sent reinforcements the other day when I was messing around with them. A friend of mine, who has more money than a single person should, has his minions stock my fridge and clean up and stuff.”
Mikey’s eyes widened. He glanced around and slowly nodded. “It is always clean. Does this guy pay for it?”
“Of course. There is no way I’d pay for someone to bust into my house when I wasn’t home. I don’t even need half the stuff they stock. But he’s hard of hearing when I tell him to get lost.”
“You don’t seem like the kind of girl to let someone get away with that.”
“Trust me, you don’t know what I’m up against.” The doorbell rang as I took a sip. “I have a work thing tonight. Kinda.” I pushed myself off the couch. “This guy is in the same position you are with the magical stuff, but he works for the police and has to deal with it professionally.”
“With the police?”
“Yeah. Detective. I met him at my old job.”
“I wondered why you was all done up. It is that swank lookin’ dude who always comes around?” Mikey followed me to the door.
“No, he’s the one who stocks the house. And does a whole lot of illegal stuff. Definitely not a cop.”
Mikey shook his head. “Why would you , of all people, try to wrangle with a cop? I’d stick with the illegal dude. That’s a more comfortable setup, if you don’t mind me saying. ”
“Trust me, it isn’t more comfortable, and also, I’m not wrangling. Just being nice for a change. It’s annoying.”
“I’ll say. I don’t bother. It makes my life easier.”
I huffed out a laugh as I pulled open the door.
J.M. stood there in jeans and a blue button-up, attractive by human standards, but unfortunately plain compared to what I’d been looking at for the past week or so. It was hard to compare anyone to Darius, and no one could compare to Vlad.
“Hey,” I said, pushing the door wide.
J.M. was about to say hey back, but his smile dwindled as his gaze snagged on Mikey behind me.
“Oh, he’s my neighbor.” I got out of the way so Mikey could leave the house. “He just stopped by.”
“I got nothing to do with this, bro.” Mikey held up his hands, one still holding a mostly full beer, and scooted by J.M. “Take my advice, though. Don’t put a move on her unless you know she’s into it. She is not one to mess with.”
“Lovely, Mikey, thanks,” I said sarcastically. “See ya.”
Mikey saluted with his beer and started down the street.
“Didn’t you say he was your neighbor?” J.M. asked, watching Mikey.
“Yeah. That house.” I pointed at the house on my right, in the opposite direction Mikey had taken off. “He wanders around the neighborhood sometimes. It’s fine. It’s all very normal.”
J.M.’s confusion said he wasn’t sure about that. He turned back to me and his eyes took me in. “Wow,” he said as his gaze roamed my face then dipped to my body. “You’re…” He shook his head. “You’re beautiful, Reagan.”
I smoothed the red silk fabric over my legs. It was one of the many dresses Marie had bought for me, and the most casual of the bunch. I’d done a little makeup and tried mildly on my hair. All this because J.M. had texted that we’d go somewhere nice to eat, his treat.
Now, seeing him in a pale blue button-up with a pair of jeans, I realized my error. Nice in Darius language meant at least a four-star rating. It meant fancy, but to his tastes, still somewhat mediocre. I was in the real world now, where people weren’t made of money.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Sure, yeah. I think I’m dressed too casual.”
“Oh.” I hooked a thumb behind me. “Do I have time to change?”
“God no. No way. You’re gorgeous. Every guy in the place will be jealous. Come on.” He stepped aside so I could exit the house.
I stepped out and locked the door behind me. At least it would keep non-vampires out .
J.M.’s midnight-blue Mustang waited at the curb. He clicked his key fob and the lights flashed. I stepped to the passenger door and waited as he walked around to the driver’s side.
“You okay?” he asked, opening the door.
I rolled my eyes at myself. I had to remember J.M. was from a different time than the people I traveled with lately. He wasn’t hung up on opening doors.
“Yup. Sorry, I just needed to check my phone really quickly.” I dove into my handbag, pushed my gun out of the way, and grabbed my cell. There was a message, thankfully, so I totally looked legit.
I opened the door and sat into the car before reading the message from Smokey. A human is watching your house. Nicely dressed. Slicked-back hair. Should I tell Mikey?
I looked around as J.M. pulled away from the curb but didn’t see anyone. Or Smokey.
Did Smokey even sleep? The guy seemed like he was up at all hours.
I texted back, No. Try to get a picture if you can. Even from a distance. I needed a new hobby, and messing with Darius’s people might need to be it.
10-4, came the return message from Smokey.
“So how was your trip?” J.M. asked as he turned the corner.
We talked about pleasantries during the car ride, any holes in the conversation quickly plugged with useless info. A while later he parked the car across from the brewery in the French Quarter. I’d caught a cab in almost this same location while I was working with Darius.
I blew out a breath as a pang hit my heart. It had been a little over twenty-four hours, and already I missed him. It wasn’t even the glorious nights wrapped in his body, or the witty dialogue we always shared, but the comfort of having him by my side. Content that he had my back, and I had his.
Man, I just wanted to see him again. It was really annoying. Especially since I wasn’t good at reining myself in.
“Reagan?”
“Hmm?” I blinked as J.M. held the door to the restaurant for me. “You okay?”
“Oh yeah. Sorry.” I laughed. “Head in the clouds. It’s been a long week.”
“I’ll say.” He followed me into the restaurant and then up the stairs as the hostess led us to our table. After we were seated, he said, “I heard the case was filed away, but you didn’t bring anyone in. So it was a dead end?”
“Oh.” I stalled, not really sure what to say. Telling him my friends and I had killed the whole lot of them was probably the opposite of my duty as a friendly ear to help him through his transition to the magical world. “It was resolved, but not traditionally. You’ll probably learn more about that from Sean.”
“He seemed happy enough with the result.” J.M.’s brow furrowed. “If you didn’t bring anyone in, though, I’m not sure how you could call that a win.”
“The crimes will stop. That’s the win.”
He nodded slowly.
“Speaking of, how’s all”—I made a circle with my forefinger—“this going? The magical stuff?”
“We solved that case you helped with.” He beamed.
“Oh yeah?” I looked up from the menu. “Who did it?”
“The daughter.” His grin was triumphant . “We found the sword at her house. She hadn’t even cleaned off the blood.” He shook his head. “She butchered her own father. We’re not sure what she was after yet.”
I tsked and resumed looking over the menu. “I’d find that out before you close the case. If it’s magical in nature, and valuable enough to kill someone over, more people will try to get in on it. Magical people can be ruthless scavengers.”
“Doubt it. It was a family spat.”
I wiped the sudden crinkle from my brow. I didn’t work for the MLE office anymore. Their lack of thoroughness wasn’t my problem. “Right. What are you going to have?”
The dinner passed with stilted conversation, largely due to my continual dropping of the conversational ball. My mind kept wandering, and try as I might, I couldn’t keep it rooted to the conversation. Finally, the dinner was over and we found ourselves outside.
“What’s next?” J.M. asked, standing too close.
I took a step away, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “You know what? I think I’m going to head off. I have a friend I want to visit.”
“Oh.” His expression fell, and he looked around. “Here?”
“Just”—I motioned—“up the way.”
“Oh. Well…okay. Are you sure I can’t take you for a drink?”
“No, but thanks for dinner. Good luck with the transition. I think you’ll do great.” I put up my hand for a high five. His immediate compliance was a childhood reaction that required no thought, if his obvious confusion was any indication. I threw him a wave and headed away.