Chapter 10
Ipick up a weathered copy of Emma and sit on the couch in the library. I didn’t put an AC unit in here since we don’t use this room all that often, and it’s sweltering. But I need a moment alone before the guys wake up and I break the news to them that I’m going to willingly step into a trap.
A trap I can’t quite make sense of.
This guy—Mr. Trent—is presumably the same guy who sent me the case files about my parents’ death.
The same guy who then set a golem loose on the city.
Who invited me to a private lunch meeting to discuss God knows what.
And he’s probably the same guy who showed up at Lyra’s a few years ago looking for magical items. He was bad news then. I’m sure he’s even worse now.
I run my fingers over the spine of the book and close my eyes.
Are you around, Mom? I’m not doing a summoning spell again, but damn, I wish I could talk to my mom again…
or my great aunt Mary. She’s the one who’d have the most information, actually.
She’d know the history of the house, if anything was hidden inside the walls.
And I could ask her why she left everything to me.
Because she had to have known I had magic inside of me. The rest of the family is far from close, but there are others. Am I to assume they’re regular old people with nothing supernatural about them?
I hug the book to my chest and let out a breath.
Why does it seem like the more answers I get, the more questions I have?
Finding things out, fleshing out every single detail until I know exactly what’s going on…
that’s part of who I am. It’s what makes me a kickass detective on the Philly police force.
And it’s going to drive me fucking insane. Because unless I can call upon my dead aunt, I’m not going to get answers to those questions.
“What would you do?” I whisper, thinking about my mother. “If you were still alive and all this was happening to me. Would you try to stop me? Tell me it’s too dangerous and too obvious.” I blink and it hits me that this is too obvious. Like way too obvious. Almost out of a movie obvious.
Which, for some odd reason, seems like it’s part of the master plan. Setting the book down, I leave the library, needing some cooler air.
The basement door opens and Thomas steps out. His hair is messy and his large wings block out the light from the stairs behind him. He looks at me with his famous crooked grin, and for a split second I let myself get lost in his eyes.
And then I remember that he’s going to turn to stone in a few weeks if I don’t get my shit together.
“Did you have a nice nap?” I ask, giving him a teasing smile.
“Slept like a baby,” he replies dryly. I move into the kitchen, giving the rest of the guys room to leave the basement. Cutting to the chase, I wave them all into the dining room. I’ve already prepared snacks, hoping food will soften the blow.
“Something interesting happened,” I start, pulling the invitation out and setting it on the table.
Hasan grabs it first, looking at the letters with a little bit of confusion.
He speaks English with no problem but still has a hard time reading anything other than his native language.
Jacques takes it from him, reads it, and then looks back at me.
“What is this?” he asks.
“An invitation.”
“Yes, I can see that. Why is it significant.”
“Because it’s the same handwriting as the other letter.” I slide the first letter across the table. “I’m not an expert on handwriting analysis, but I’ve seen it done enough to know what to look for. The same person wrote both letters.”
“The same person who tried to kill you with the golem?” Gilbert asks.
“Right.”
Thomas reaches across the table and takes the invitation. “The guy wants to meet you tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yes, and I’m going,” I say bluntly. “I need answers.”
“You haven’t thought this through,” Hasan tells me.
I nod. “I have. I know how this looks, going to meet this mysterious guy alone, but I can’t risk him letting any more monsters loose in the city, and he knows about my parents’ death.”
“But you don’t know that,” Jacques presses, and my defenses immediately go up.
“He has all the files. He sent them to me.”
“Right. He has the files,” Jacques goes on.
“But does that mean he knows about the demon? Isn’t it possible he curated a list of deaths with similar causes?
Couldn’t you do that yourself if you wanted to and go through the computers and the internet or whatever it’s called and find people from all over the country who died the same way? ”
What he’s saying has merit, and I hate it. This guy collected case files from murders just like my parents’. He spent years on this. He has to know something. Because if he doesn’t, then I don’t think anyone will.
“Okay, fine,” I say, unable to disagree. “It is possible. But those files go back years. Why look into them if you’re not trailing the demon?”
“To get under your skin,” Gil suggested quietly, not looking at me.
Smart man. “Jacques has a point. Whoever this Mr. Trent is knows about you. You said yourself the case about your parents’ death is public.
So maybe he dug into your past a little and saw that you’re a detective with an unsolved case that hits close to home. ”
I bite my lip, mind whirling. “Yeah, that’s a possibility. But I think it’s more than that. I have a feeling in my gut that I need to go with this.”
“A feeling, or desperation?” Jacques asks with little emotion.
“Seriously?” I snap. “I’m not desperate. I’ve never been desperate.” The urge to throw a fit right now is strong. I’m lashing out from a place of insecurity because deep down I know I am desperate for answers.
For vengeance.
“You’re usually calm and every move is calculated,” Hasan says, trying to keep the peace. “Throwing this information at you was a good way to upset the balance. He’s playing mind games with you, Ace.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to lose.” I lean back in my chair.
“Yes, I completely agree this is a game, and going to meet this guy for lunch could be a disaster. But sitting here doing nothing could be a disaster too.” I shake my head, pushing my hair back behind my ears.
“Obviously this guy knows who I am and wants something from me. I can’t ignore him and hope he’ll go away. It’s best to confront this head-on.”
The guys look around at each other, not disputing what I said but not jumping on it either.
“Look,” I say softly, knowing the guys are really just concerned about me. “The way I see it, if this Mr. Trent is willing to expose magic to an entire city, then he’s willing to do it again and probably worse. He’ll keep blackmailing me into agreeing to meet with him.”
“But then what?” Gil asks. “Say you go tomorrow and he wants something you’re not going to give him. He won’t stop then, either.”
I inhale slowly. “Then I’ll stop him.” Hasan nods in approval while the others look uneasy.
“And I think he wants to buy the house. The guy who dropped off the invitation—which is weird, by the way, he could have just mailed it—hinted that this Mr. Trent liked the historical value of the house. Which is bullshit, of course.”
“Gemma’s theory that something is hidden in the house sounds more plausible now,” Jacques says. “We should search right away.”
“I agree,” I start, and bite my lip. He’s not going to like what I’m about to suggest, and I need his help to do it.
“This is a big house and there are so many places something could be, and it could be somewhere we wouldn’t look in the first place, like under a brick in the fireplace or a floorboard. ”
“What about a locator spell?” Thomas suggests.
“Ace can certainly try one,” Jac says. “But without knowing what she’s looking for, it might not be the most reliable. Simply asking for magical objects will take her to the ones she already has.”
“I had another spell in mind,” I say.
Jacques, who hasn’t touched the chips and salsa in front of him, raises his eyebrows. “Which one?”
“A summoning spell. For my aunt,” I add in quickly. “This was her house. She knows it better than anyone, and she left it to me for a reason.” We’ve already talked about how my aunt had to know about my magical powers, which makes her lack of reaching out all the more curious.
“The last time you tried a summoning spell, you opened a rift,” Thomas says.
“I did?” I turn to him, cocking an eyebrow. “I almost forgot.”
Thomas shoots back a smirk. “Don’t worry. You can count on me to remind you of all your mistakes.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I don’t want to necessarily summon her, though. Just talk to her. That requires a less powerful spell, right?”
“Right. But it is still dangerous. You’re opening a window instead of a door, but you’re still exposing the spirit world to ours and you can still get in and out through a window. It’s not as easy as a door, but possible.”
“I know, and I don’t want to do this if it’s too risky. The last thing we need on top of everything is another homicidal ghost kidnapping teenage boys.” I let out a breath and reach for the chips.
“You’re not going alone tomorrow,” Thomas tells me. “No fucking way.”
“The invite says to come alone.”
Gil leans forward. “Where is this place?”
“It’s a fancy restaurant inside a fancy hotel. Way out of my price range. If I do go, he is so paying and I’m ordering steak.”
“But it’s a public place?” Gil goes on.
“Yes.”
“Change the meeting to nighttime and then you won’t be alone. We’ll go,” he says, motioning to Thomas. “With the concealment charms on, of course. We’ll pretend to be a couple of chaps visiting from England who wanted to see the nicest hotel in the area.”
“It might not be the nicest, but I think your plan will work. And I know this guy won’t be alone.”
“I highly doubt it considering he knows you have powers,” Hasan says.
“Do you think he has powers?” Gilbert asks.
I shake my head and look at Jacques, who isn’t sure either.
“Don’t you need powers to make a golem?” Thomas asks.
“According to the legend I’m familiar with,” Jacques starts, “you don’t necessarily need powers, but you do need the exact spell.”
“So a regular person with a spell book could be dangerous.”
“Yes.”
I break the chip in half. “That’s the most valuable thing I have right now.”
Thomas slides the salsa in front of him. “The last time this guy lured you out of the house, he came by. Do you think he’s trying to do that again and will go after the book?”
“Maybe.” I bite my lip, thinking. “Gemma will be here, so if anyone stops by she’ll be able to call the cops, but it’ll take too long for someone to get here.
I need to hide the book, and I have an idea of where.
” I smile and lean in, suddenly afraid that someone is listening to me.
“I’m a cop, remember? I have access to places others don’t.
I can put the book in the evidence room.
And no, it’s not as easy to sneak in and steal evidence as it is on TV.
Everything is kept under lock and key. It’ll take a little bit of magic myself to get in without signing anything in or out. ”
“If you think it’s safe, then it’s safe.” Gilbert looks at me with a nod and then looks at the clock. It’s almost eight-thirty.
“Or I keep it with me,” I suggest. “Because I don’t like the idea of having to go back into work, using magic to get into the evidence room, and sneaking the book out when demons are attacking us.”
“Right,” Jacques agrees. “Keep it here.”
“I wish you were awake during the day,” I sigh.
“Me too.” Thomas leans back, wings smashed against the chair.
“So, what do I do?” I ask, tapping the screen on my phone. It’s 8:28, and it seems odd to me that he gave me until 8:30. The guys just woke up and we’ve hardly had time to discuss things. A few seconds tick by before anyone speaks.
“You’re not going,” Jacques says, and his protectiveness is as endearing as it is annoying.
“I’m a cop, remember? I can handle myself. And I’ll make my whereabouts known. Hell, I’ll take a selfie with the guy and send it to Gemma. That way, if anything happens, we have photographic proof that asshole was the last one to be seen with me.”
“That doesn’t comfort me, Ace.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” I tell Jac, and I mean it. “I know this is risky and I know this Mr. Trent guy laid out the web and is waving me over to it. But I have to do this, Jac. I have to see what he wants. Hell, I need to make sure he’s human first and foremost.”
“Maybe Gemma should go with you,” Gilbert suggests. “Just to keep an eye on things.”
“They’ve seen her and would recognize her right away.”
“Not if she does a glamour,” Thomas suggests.
I consider it, but shake my head. “I don’t want to put her in danger.” I reach forward and grab another chip. “I wish my fucking aunt filled me in on things before she died,” I huff to no one in particular.
“You should channel her,” Jacques says, surprising us all. “Not summon, but channel. You’re right. If there is anything magical hidden in the walls, she’ll know.”
“And you know how to do this?” Hasan asks skeptically.
“I have a theory,” Jac starts, and Hasan does his best not to roll his eyes and look away.
Most of the time, Hasan and Jac get along and agree on things.
But Hasan is a doer and Jacques is a thinker.
Together, they make a crazy strong team, but of course they’re going to butt heads every now and then.
But before they can get into it, the clock chimes, reminding us that my official RSVP time is up. The world hasn’t imploded or anything, which is a good sign.
“So this theory,” Hasan starts again, but is interrupted when my phone vibrates from a text.
“It’s him,” I say, recognizing the number as the one on the invitation. “It’s Mr. Trent.”