Curse It (A Peg Darrow Novel Book 1), page 9
Something flashed in his eyes. Sympathy? "My apologies, I sometimes forget about your disabilities."
The plastic lawn chair began to look rather inviting. If I hit him over the head with it, it wouldn't hurt him, but it would make me feel better. Nobody could claim I was attempting regicide, or was it princicide? No, that wasn't a word.
"It wouldn’t be worth it."
My eyes narrowed. "How do you know what I'm thinking?"
"You're looking at that chair with a longing I have seen in many upset women, and a few men. I will forgive your magic attack, since I startled you, but this would be premeditated. I could not let that go without punishment."
"I’m not your subject."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Appearances, and all that." He suddenly sniffed the air and looked at me with concern and confusion. "You have injured yourself."
The adrenaline making my injuries painless disappeared. The bruising and scraping along my back began to burn. Twisting from side to side, I felt the pull, but it was just a scrape. "No biggie. I'll need to remember to put some stain remover on the shirt before I wash it." Bloodstains were a bitch.
"I don't know why you're bringing up your domestic skills to me. Turn around."
"No, it's fine, and I was making small talk. Jeez, leave the cave every now and then, would ya?"
His mouth formed a hard line before he closed the three feet separating us to grab my shoulders and forcibly turn me.
"I said I was fine. A scrape never killed anyone." My body was tense, but I didn't see any way to get him to back off without ignoring his warning and actually taking the lawn furniture to him. He released my shoulders, but his close proximity remained, and I didn't think I had been set free. Suddenly, my cardigan and t-shirt rose, and air brushed over my skin. The fabric peeling away from my scrape and the cold air on the cut caused me to suck in a breath.
"Hey, Deval, unless you have a Band-Aid and Neosporin in your pocket, I don't see the purpose of this. If you're trying to see what color my bra is, and in that case, you need to buy me a shot of tequila first."
His low chuckle caused his breath to tickle my ear. It was close, but I managed to not shiver at the caress. He was looking at my injury, not trying to get in my pants.
"You are right. It is a minor scrape." He tugged the fabric back down gently. "And I don't need tequila to undress women. Your beige color choice seems very functional."
I laughed at that and turned to face him. “Yep, it is that. Not typically men’s favorite color choice, but I don’t consider myself the femme fatale type.”
He chuckled again, the corners of his eyes crinkling giving him a more approachable face. "I suppose you have scientific evidence to back this up?"
"Insomuch as every guy I've ever dated has said as much."
"Has this been an extensive poll?"
My skin heated at his insinuation. "Not that it's any of your business, but no."
Oblivious to my discomfort, he went on, "Ah, so hardly enough for a scientific study. Men may have preferences, but if he’s not pleased to see you in your underwear, despite the color, you probably should not give him the pleasure of seeing it. I would not complain at all if you chose to strip down."
I opened my mouth and closed it again, speechless for a moment before I found my thoughts. "Dude, no wonder you have a reputation."
"A reputation?"
"Yeah, you're known as a big ol' man whore."
"If that is to say I enjoy the company of women, I will not apologize for it." The smile accompanying that statement was downright predatory.
"Okay, down, Fido. I'm not interested."
"I know differently, but I will honor delusions. We can continue with our business."
I scowled at him. "You have come back to the witch’s house for what purpose?"
And just like that, he turned off the flirt. I wished my body could shut down as quickly. I wasn't really attracted to him. It was stress, I told myself. Of course I was lying to myself. If anyone claimed they didn't find power and intelligence, wrapped up in an attractive package appealing, they were lying to you. Shaking my head, I forced my thoughts back to business.
"I went to see the vampires last night; they said everything was peachy on the business front. I want to check Violet's finances to verify that. I don't trust them."
He frowned. "Lola said you went out last night. Whereas I understand the need, you two should have brought security."
"I am security," I responded, bristling.
"If you were, Lola would not have needed to name drop."
I shrugged. "Security uses every tool available to them. I could have gone in with a big show of power, but why bother when a little name dropping keeps everything peaceful?"
"Do you really think you could have fought off the ten or so vampires in the building had you not name dropped?"
The answer was no. But why be honest when you could go for mysteriously delusional instead? I gave him a vague smile and turned to open the back door. Behind me he grunted, probably annoyed I wasn't going to admit to my inferiority while smiling and saying, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
If I remembered the layout from the other night correctly, the office was in the hall off the kitchen. Deval followed, his steps light on the ceramic tiles. Going to the desk, I sat in the comfortable chair and turned on the desktop. Thankfully, it wasn't password protected, because lord knew, I wasn't very tech savvy. I should probably work on that since there were no master hackers in my social circle who’d let me pay them in Mountain Dew and bacon maple donuts.
I stared a bit blankly at the array of desktop icons to choose from.
"Remind me never to hire you for an administrative position."
"Please, you only hire goblins anyway."
He physically pulled back the office chair, causing me to squeak in surprise. "That is untrue. We are equal opportunity employers at Rouge Mining. Just look at Lola."
Getting out of the chair, I muttered, "Yeah a ward of the goblins, real diverse."
"Well, is she a goblin?"
"For all intents and purposes."
His shrug said he agreed, but he still said, "Ah, but she is a witch."
This conversation would get me nowhere, and as I wasn't trying to get a job at Rouge Mining, I decided to drop it.
A few seconds later Deval had Violet's financial software up and running and was looking through the spreadsheets like they meant something. Maybe I should get some financial software, instead of winging it. If I found the killer, I'd actually have a little bit of money to keep track of. As it was, I was happy to let him stare at the numbers.
"Hmm."
"What does ‘hmm’ mean?" I asked.
"This workbook is only shows her day job. She's reasonably well paid as an RN, but you said she was in financial straits?"
"Yeah, her Dad is sick, and I think she's been covering his bills."
"He can't provide for himself?" There was a hint of contempt in his tone only the independently wealthy ever had.
"Not everyone is born to with a gold mine already in their name."
He grunted, unperturbed by my snark. I would have probably lectured him further, but then he pulled up another workbook.
"This seems to be what we're looking for."
I leaned over his shoulder to get a better look. There was a lot of money coming in, but it was going out just as fast. The vampires paid well, but the redemptions showed Violet spared no expense for her father's care. It also looked like she was paying her donors premium asking prices. That could easily be explained by the W, F, and S denotations next to the names of the donors. My bet was that stood for “witch,” “fae,” and “shifter,” respectively. I said as much out loud.
"Yes, that is likely the case. They would not need human blood procured for them, but supernatural blood is a much more difficult commodity to come by. The power it gives the vampires, even temporarily, would be worth a hefty price."
"I don't see any G's for goblin."
"My people aren't that stupid."
I snorted. "Desperate is desperate. Fane implied he had access to goblin blood. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if a younger goblin did it, just to buy the latest pair of designer shoes. You guys are very materialistic."
He swiveled the chair scowling at me. "What would you know about a goblin's spending habits?"
"Only an observation. Your idea of dressed down is a pair of two-hundred-dollar jeans, mine is a pair that cost a tenth of that."
"You don't know much, Ms. Darrow. There is a reason for everything. My two-hundred- dollar jeans will last much longer than your twenty-dollar pair."
Someone was getting huffy.
"Perhaps, but if I saw a goblin who wasn't wearing a label, I'd be shocked.” Since I wasn’t here to debate the pros and cons of bargain shopping, I changed the subject. “She's not in desperate financial straits?"
"She is scraping by. She is paid well, but her bills are high. She would need to continue the blood bank to make ends meet until her father passes."
"Peachy. Well then, shut that down, I need to get going."
"I do not work for you, Ms. Darrow."
"If you want to hang out looking at financials all day, be my guest, just lock the bottom lock when you leave."
Turning to leave, I heard him shutting down the computer behind me. Guess he didn't want to be here any longer than I did. By the time he caught up with me, I was at my Jeep.
"Where do you think you’re going?"
"I’m an investigator, Deval. I’m going to go investigate." I crossed my arms.
He gritted his teeth, his entire face going stiff. He still managed to spit out, "Yes, but where are you investigating? You have not given me a report on what you found in the aura trace."
Oh, right. “I found a scrubbed aura. That’s one of the reasons Lola and I went to The Opium Den last night.”
His forehead wrinkled. “Are you saying you’re not powerful enough to see through some aura hiding spell?”
My nostrils flared at the insult. “No, you moron, I’ve never run into anything like this and neither has Pammy. You should go tell Pammy she’s not as powerful as you think. In the meantime, I’ll work on finding what can hide its aura.”
He crossed his arms, mimicking my pose. “Are you sure you’re able to get this job done?”
“As much as anybody,” I lied. “You know who did pop up a lot in the aura trace? You and your metal-smith buddy. Yet, I’m intelligent enough to not suspect you, so get off my back.” Okay I might still wonder about him, just a little, but it didn’t make sense that he was his own thief. Besides, as far as I could tell, he had no known association with Violet.
“I should be grateful you don’t suspect me?”
“Yep. If you want to give me your alibi, or your buddy’s, that will take away the need to explore that avenue. Wouldn’t want to waste my time.”
His face was blank as he stared down at me for a solid minute before bothering to respond. “I was at a goblin function and have any number of witnesses. The metal smith does not even reside on this continent and has not visited the Americas in a century.”
“Handy that all of your witnesses are your subjects.” I cocked my head.
Before Deval could respond, a black SUV, a twin of the one he parked in front of the house, pulled up. Two large goblins got out, calling greetings to Deval. He glared at me before turning to greet the two men. “Gregar, Vegard. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Cousin, we were bored. Are you not happy to see us?” The goblin that approached smiled but his eyes remained hard.
A tick developed in Deval’s jaw before he smoothed all emotion from his face. I’d take that as “no.”
“Of course, it’s always wonderful when you take interest in my life. What has drawn your attention to me today?”
Both men resembled Deval, though one appeared much younger. He gave Deval a sheepish smile the question. The older one’s smile was anything but sheepish. If he smiled any wider his face would crack.
“We hear you are hunting, cousin. Quite a pity to have your space invaded.”
Holy passive aggressive, Batman.
Inserting myself by stepping between Deval and the sharper featured version of him, I held out my hand. “Hi, we haven’t been introduced. Peg Darrow.”
The man sneered down at my hand.
His companion stepped in to take my hand in a quick, but firm handshake. “I am Vegard. This is Gregar. We are Deval’s cousins.” His grin turned nervous, probably because his brother was now glaring at him.
Deval reached out and clasped his shoulder in approval. Poor guy, looked like someone was stuck in the middle of family drama.
“Nice to meet you, Vegard. It’s great that you guys decided to stop by. Maybe you could tell me where Deval was on Friday night?”
Vegard turned sharply to look at me, but Gregar just laughed out loud. “He was at a court function with us. He would not want to disappoint Mommy.”
I was about to ask where this court function was held, when Deval cut me off. “Ms. Darrow, I need to speak with my cousins. Perhaps you should be going?”
I wanted to stay. Hell, I wanted to pop some popcorn and enjoy the show, but when I looked between the men, I saw that Deval and Gregar weren’t smiling anymore, their mouths were firmly shut. They wouldn’t say another word in front of me. Vegard shrugged apologetically.
“Fine. I have things to do, anyway.”
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” Deval inquired.
I arched a brow. Seriously? He was dismissing me, and he seemed to think an audience would make me answer his question.
“Peg, answer me.”
I considered flipping him the bird, but realized he was playing some sort of power game with his cousin and it would look bad if I didn’t answer him. Ha, Pammy look, I could be diplomatic.
"I'm going to go ask Alice some questions."
The stiffness melted from his features and now the crinkles around his eyes seemed to belay actual warmth from a smile. "Alice, such an interesting woman. I would join you, but I have other matters to attend to." He motioned to his cousins, who remained mute despite eavesdropping.
My hackles rose. "Good, because I don't recall inviting you."
He ignored my statement. "If you kept me informed, I would not need to track you down. Whereas, I expedited the process, I am sure you can figure out accounting software. I have other things to attend to."
“So you’ve said.” I managed with a forced smile. I’d wanted to reply with something sarcastic and cutting, but my brain wasn't giving me any material. After congratulating myself on my diplomacy, I doubted calling him an asshat in front of his cousins would be a good idea. I raised my hand to my brow and gave him a mocking salute before turning to get into my Jeep. I heard him laughing behind me as I climbed in. I hadn't meant to amuse him, but then again, I never got the reactions I hoped for from him.
I called Pammy to see where I could find Alice. She muttered under her breath the entire time about ignorant young witches, while I pretended she was talking about her groupies. Five minutes later, I had an address plugged in to my phone's GPS. It said I was going to the First Baptist church in Phoenix. It must be a mistake. I called Pammy back.
"Hey Pammy, I think you gave me the wrong address."
"You calling me senile?" Her voice was not pleasant.
"Uh no, it's just you've given me the address of a condemned church."
"If that's the address I gave you, that's the address you should go to."
My, my, someone is testy today.
"Okay," I tried to sound meek. "Should I call her before I show up?"
"If you needed to call her first, I would’ve told you."
"Sure, thanks."
There was a grunt before the call disconnected. I wanted to ask more questions, but Pammy obviously wasn't in the mood. I knew better than to prolong a conversation with the woman if she was in a bad mood. I wondered if the Bump and Grind ran out of her favorite pastry.
Traffic was a little rough, but since I was going into Phoenix, as opposed to leaving it, I wasn't sitting on the I-10 for too long. Eight in the morning would have been another story. The First Baptist Church was a stunning building. A fire stole its functionality, but its beauty and historical relevance kept it from being torn down. Someone was probably lobbying to do just that. I hoped they didn't succeed. The building was white stucco and had the Spanish mission architecture, suggesting it was a historic landmark, which I had no doubt it claimed. The bell tower soared into the air with a kind of subdued elegance.
I was half tempted to Instagram the sucker, but that would be an Idiot 101 choice for someone who was actively investigating a murder. Oh, look vicious killer, here I am, looking into how the hell you've scrubbed your aura. Don't come murder me. So, I kept my phone in my pocket and looked around.
Perhaps there was a small apartment still functioning somewhere. Finding no trace of one, I approached the chain locked front doors thinking the attempt futile and not looking forward to having to call Pammy back, when a buzzing sensation filled the air. About a foot from the front door, my head shot up. Craning my neck, I saw that what was a beautiful ruin had now become simply beautiful.
What the hell?
Taking a step back, I experienced the same tingle against my skin and the ruin popped back into focus, stepping forward, beautiful structure. I wasn't seeing things. The church was glamoured. Holy hell, the power and knowledge it would take to glamour a building this size had my eyes crossing. The front doors were no longer chained and there was a bell with a pull rope. I grabbed the rope and rang. A rich tone rang, echoing around me.
Did the humans hear the bell? If so, did they think it was a ghost? This was too interesting. How had I never realized this place existed? According to Pammy, it was because I was a baby witch with no respect for the community. She might be right.
