Chapter 41
“Didn’t this place mention solstice celebrations?” I asked holding up the pamphlet featuring a nurse in scrubs helping an elderly white woman walk down a hallway.
“Yeah,” Laurel said. “Along with Christmas, Kwanzaa, and Chanukah.”
“I mean, but still, that has to be like a... signal, right? They’re ok with witches?” I asked.
One of Laurel’s eyebrows went up, and she opened her mouth before shaking her head. We were sitting in my living room, Silverwood cool and still around us.
“Our best bet is still Clearwater.” She tapped on the brochure in the middle of the table.
Wincing, I picked it up, skimming the information again. “It’s so expensive.”
“I’m sorry,” Laurel said. She pointed at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you suggesting we put a price on Shannon’s safety?”
After I’d convinced Jeffrey Jenkins he’d killed someone, the police and an ambulance had gotten involved.
Shannon had been carted back to a hospital where a doctor had said, despite her adventure in my apartment, she was fine.
Now, we had to find somewhere long-term for her, since her insurance wouldn’t cover the hospital for much longer.
Clearwater was a local skilled nursing facility catering to, per its literature, ‘specialized clients.’ Which, after a tour which showed off state-of-the-art werewolf-containment rooms for full moons, magical wards to keep out anyone intending residents harm, and specialized staff who were experts in everything from chimeras to age-related magic loss, was comprehensive.
“No,” I admitted. “It’s mostly all the paperwork. I mean, have you seen it? It’s more paper than a grand-jury indictment.”
Laurel shot me a narrow look. “Get over here and help me fill this out.”
Someone knocked on the door and I held up my hands. “Oh, man, a guest! I’ll be over here not dealing with that.”
I gestured to the stack of paperwork and turned back to the door. Opening it, I found a suited Nick bearing a bottle of wine. With a grin, I leaned against the doorframe.
“Can I help you, officer? Is my car parked illegally? Are you here to give me a fine?”
Rolling his eyes, Nick pointed to my car, parked in the circular driveway.
The windshield was broken, side-view mirrors torn off, and it had a few werewolf-shaped dents in it.
“That is a menace. It’s not street-worthy and if I find out you’ve been driving it before you fix it, then I’ll make sure you do get a ticket. ”
“It’s on the to-do list,” I promised. “If my rich boyfriend wants to make himself useful, he could buy me a new car.”
With a put-upon sigh, he said, “Happy housewarming. I don’t know why I bothered, but this is the nice stuff, so put it in a real wine glass. Not in a water glass.”
“Come in,” I invited. “You can help me find one.”
The house was larger than even I’d first thought. When I’d gone back for my laundry, a few days after our showdown with Mark Woolworth, I’d found a new deed with my name on it. Whether the house had made it or some fae that had been placed in San Amaro’s city hall, I owned Silverwood.
After figuring I might as well start making it my home, I even planted a couple of the seeds from the Old One tree in the expansive backyard. Nick had been concerned I’d have talking trees that could see in my windows, but I assured him trees didn’t really care about what went on in my bedroom.
“How’d the facility tours go?” Nick asked, waving at Laurel in the living room. He followed me to the kitchen and I pulled down three wine glasses from one of the shelves and put them on the island in the center of the kitchen.
“Good,” I said. “Most places don’t want to advertise their stance on witches, but we can ask about hauntings. It’s been... informative.”
We were on our second day of tours and the haunting question had narrowed the number of candidates down to six from the ten facilities we’d visited.
But of those six, Laurel was right that we only had one real choice.
Nick nodded and searched for a wine opener, finding one in a drawer and peeling back the foil.
“I got some interesting news today,” he said. “Derek McCallum’s house is off the market.”
“Someone bought it? Good luck to them. We left behind some impressive bloodstains.” Nick was quiet. I stared at him and said, “You think McCallum is back.”
“Yeah,” Nick said. “Or planning to come back.”
The news made me huff a sigh. I knocked a fist against the marble counter. “Well. That’s going to make things interesting.”
“Yeah,” Nick agreed. He reached out and put his hand on top of mine before turning back to the bottle of wine. “The department is forming a task force related to the Far Realm rift. Captain Tate nominated me to be the Paranormal Crimes representative on it.”
“Really?” I watched him pour our glasses. Heading to the refrigerator, I pulled out a cheese tray Laurel had brought over for lunch. Setting it on the counter between us, I took a slice of cheddar. “Congratulations. That sounds like a promotion?”
“It’s... good. For my career,” he said. “It means I’ll be noticed more.”
“I don’t notice you enough?” I leered at him.
He smiled into his glass and I picked up mine, offering him a toast. “Congratulations, Detective King. You’re on your way to being Chief of Police King.”
He rang our glasses together and I leaned in to seal it with a kiss when we heard a voice.
“Windrose?”
I sighed. Nick had stiffened and his hand was hovering near his hip, even though I knew he kept his firearm in a safe in his car when he wasn’t on duty. Touching his arm, I set down my glass. “Take the wine into the living room. You can help Laurel fill out some paperwork. I’ll deal with this.”
“Parker,” Nick said, eyes soft.
Leaning forward, I kissed him, his soft lips a promise of more fun after Laurel went home. “I’ve got this.”
Unhappily, he picked up the wine glasses and headed for the living room. With a sigh, I headed in the opposite direction. Shannon was hovering near the room leading to the Far Realm, her brow furrowed. “She came through the Summer door.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Walking in, I noticed my throne was already formed, the massive oak more solid than it had been the last time I’d pulled it into existence. My eyes widened when I saw who it was.
“Acacia.” I took a seat on the throne. The cane leaned against it and I picked it up. I still wasn’t sure how everything worked, but I knew either the tree or the cane gave me the gravitas and the language I needed when playing my new role.
“Windrose,” she greeted, bowing her head.
“You can call me Parker,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
She frowned, her hands clasped behind her back. She’d pulled her braids back into a ponytail and her skin had a golden hue that looked healthier than the last time I’d seen her. Her blue eyes were striking in her face, and it spoke to her parentage that I could feel the magic under her skin.
“I feel like I owe you a debt,” she said. “For saving my life.”
“No,” I said immediately. “No obligation between us. I was just doing my job.”
“I’d like to repay it.” She ignored me. “And make sure you’re... informed about some of the politics of your position.”
“What politics?” I asked.
“You think you’re a half-blood, like me,” she said. “A changeling left behind by a careless fae. Of no court.”
“No one’s ever claimed me,” I said, carefully. “Even when I went to the Summer Court.”
Acacia spoke slowly, like she was choosing her words. “The old queen, Queen Aster, once had a child with her consort. Her fae consort. The child was stolen from her when it was an infant. She spent years searching for him. When she found you, she thought you might be that child.”
“She never said anything. She would have told me.”
My chest was tight, bands of pressure were crushing my ribs and my knuckles on the cane were white.
“Would she? If she wasn’t sure who’d raised you and what your motives were?” Acacia asked. “I wanted you to know. The information makes us even.”
“Am I Aster’s son?” I said, the past taking on new meaning.
“I don’t know,” Acacia said. “But there was a reason my mother freed you. And a reason her ploy worked.”
She bowed and exited through the Summer door. I sat on my throne, hands tight on the cane. The tree around me shivered.
“Parker, you okay?” Nick asked. I looked around. The light was different. It was darker. Nick was crouched in front of me, his hands loose and expression concerned.
“Yeah.” I forced a smile and stood, the tree disappearing. I brought the cane with me and headed out of the room. “You guys make any headway?”
“Well, kind of.” Nick offered his hand and I took it. “Laurel seems to think we should ask if the staff that will deal with Shannon are witches and I had to point out that’s illegal and now I think she’s mad at me.”
I laughed. “You’re such a rule-follower.”
“Parker, it is illegal to discriminate based on religion.” Nick was smiling though and I felt something in my chest relax. I would deal with Lilacina some other time. For now, I was going to enjoy the expensive wine my boyfriend had brought over and some cheap takeout.
Parker Ferro.
The voice rumbled in my bones.
I have come to demand my payment.