Kick The Candle (Knight Games) Page 16

  “I’m not a demon!” Logan said, extending his hands to the sides. “Or a shapeshifter.”

  I scratched my jaw. “He came through the front door, Poe. He’s not supernatural.”

  “Did you invite him in?”

  Oh crap. I had invited him in. And come to think of it, I couldn’t see the ghost of his dead mother, and it did seem rather coincidental that he knew just where to look. “Oh my God, Logan, are you a demon or a shifter?”

  “No,” he insisted as if the mere idea was ridiculous. “No!” he repeated more emphatically.

  Poe hopped to my shoulder. “Prove it.”

  “How exactly am I supposed to prove it?” Logan’s outstretched hands balled into fists and came to rest on his hips.

  I pulled out my phone and searched my database for a spell to detect supernatural beings. “Stay right there.” I ducked into the downstairs bathroom, and filled the empty soap dish with some water. When I returned, Logan looked more than a little put out. I held the dish toward him.

  “Tip forward so that I can see your reflection in the water.”

  He hesitated for a second but indulged me. I placed my free hand on his head and repeated the phrase I’d learned from my spell database. “Ostendil mihil teipsme”

  The water glowed cerulean blue then rippled from the inside out as if a teardrop had fallen from his face and landed at the center. When the rings settled, I could see his reflection clearly. It looked just like Logan, with the addition of a blue star glowing in the center of his forehead.

  “See! He’s one of them,” Poe accused, pointing a talon toward Logan.

  “Wait up, Poe. The spell said the supernatural would appear as shadows in the water. Logan’s reflection is clear, aside from the star.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I think it’s because he’s a medium. He can channel and talk to the dead. That’s all.”

  “You think? You’re not sure.” Poe narrowed his eyes.

  “I’m sure he’s not anything maleficent.”

  Logan stood straight, rubbing his head. “Can we move on please? Honestly, if I was a demon, I’d have plowed over the flying rat and gotten the hell out of here while you were in the bathroom.”

  Poe’s beak dropped open at the flying rat comment. He squinted his eyes at Logan. “I don’t like you.”

  “Feeling’s mutual.”

  In answer, I turned my back to them and stared at the symbols in the concrete. “Now that that’s settled, how do we open this?”

  Poe hopped down the table’s edge to get a better view. “You can’t. These symbols are ancient nekomata runes. It says it can’t be opened until equinox on the winter solstice.”

  “Not even with magic?” I asked.

  “No. It says when the sunlight hits the stone at midday of the solstice, the treasure will be revealed.”

  “We’re inside. How does the nekomata expect sunlight to hit the stone?”

  Logan looked over his shoulder at the sliding glass door to the backyard. “I saw a Scooby Doo episode where the bad guy used a series of mirrors to reflect the light.”

  Poe stared at him incredulously. “Were you eating Fruity Pebbles at the time?”

  “Hey, it’s a viable alternative.”

  Poe squawked, “Perhaps we should entertain ideas from more reliable sources than Saturday morning cartoons?”

  “It could happen, Poe.” I shot the bird a warning glare. Why was he being such an asshole to Logan? “I wonder if this was why Mr. Nekomata said he wanted to bulldoze the house. Maybe he plans for the sun to reach this directly.”

  “Could he do that?” Poe asked, fluttering to my shoulder. “You said the sale closes on Friday, the day before the solstice. Could he bulldoze this place in a day?”

  “It’s hard for me to believe he could get a crew out here, in the middle of winter, on a Saturday. But I’m not ruling anything out.”

  Logan blew out an exaggerated breath. “Not to be an ass, but shouldn’t we be trying to stop the closing? Best case scenario, Nekomata never has the opportunity to shed light on the vault.”

  “I’ll call my father back and beg. I’ll come up with an excuse. We should all be prepared though. I’m not the seller; my father is. Technically, he could sell it right out from under me.”

  Poe yanked my hair with his beak. “What father could deny their own little girl? A few tears and I’m sure he will accommodate you.”

  “I’ll bawl my eyes out if it will keep Nekomata out of here until after the solstice.”

  “Good plan, my dear spellcaster,” Poe said. “However, as I mentioned before, it would be prudent of you to move the Book of Light. If all else fails, we will need it to manage the consequences.”

  That’s right. I needed a place to hide the book, a place with enough air to enhance its magical properties and where it could be safe and protected in my absence. I couldn’t keep it at Rick’s and after what happened with Marcus the vampire a few weeks ago, I didn’t want to involve Michelle. Which left only one person who could help me.

  “Logan, I need to ask a favor of you.”

  “My mother is smiling and nodding her head. Whatever you are going to ask me, looks like I’m supposed to say yes.”

  * * * * *

  After Logan agreed to babysit the Book of Light, we moved it to his condo, feeling like I was leaving my first-born baby in his home office. He wasn’t completely keen on the idea. Fortunately, his mother’s ghost persuaded him to go along. I spent the better part of the day laying protective spells around his place, something I’d wanted to do anyway. Nothing could come in without his invitation, aside from me. By the time I’d finished, the place was a magical Fort Knox.

  “The front desk already has instructions to let you up, day or night, but here’s a key.”

  I looked at the silver specimen he dangled in front of me. For some reason, the thought of having a key to his place made me uncomfortable. “I don’t think I’ll need my own key,” I said. “This is only temporary.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m gone most nights at the restaurant. If you need to get to the book, this is your only way in.”

  Reluctantly, I accepted the key, noticing the Valentine’s emblem on the stainless steel keychain. The engraving was of an artistically designed heart pierced by cupid’s arrow, only the point was actually a spoon and the feathers, a fork pointing in the opposite direction. Valentine’s was scrawled across the artwork.

  I turned the key over in my palm. “I know this might be awkward for you.”

  “You mean because I basically threw myself at you and you turned me down.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  I locked my eyes on the toes of my boots. “Uh, yeah. Listen, I’m sorry about that Logan. I never meant to lead you on or to hurt you.”

  He took a deep breath. “You didn’t. Not really. What happened between us, when I was corporeally challenged, caught us both off guard. I guess, it just meant more to me.”

  “What happened between us, when you were a ghost, was an accident. I didn’t understand the source of our attraction, and I let things get out of hand.”

  The dejected look on his face had me walking for the door.

  “This won’t be for long.” I held up the key. “I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

  “I like you in my hair.”

  I stopped at his front door and turned to face him, squirming under the pressure of the moment. “It’s not that the night we shared didn’t mean anything to me, Logan. It did and you do. We shared a connection when you lived in my house, and I’ll always cherish those days. But while I like and respect you, even love you in some ways—”

  “In some ways?”

  “It’s as a friend. You are a dear, dear friend. And it would kill me to lose you from my life. But I’m…I…” God I wasn’t sure I could say it.

  “You love him,” he offered.

  I cleared my throat. Logan was the wrong person for me to say this to, especially
the first time. “My affections are spoken for …and happily so.”

  He nodded. Met my eyes. I said my goodbyes and headed for home.

  Chapter 22

  The Doghouse

  On my way back to Red Grove, I tried to call my father to begin the supplicatory process for a later closing date. He didn’t answer his phone, an oddity for my super real estate agent dad. Usually, he could sign papers, show a house, and answer his phone simultaneously. Hell, I had suspicions he answered his cell on the toilet.

  And that’s when my anxiety really took off. What if Anna Bathory had gotten her hands on him to get to me? Julius said the nekomata and the vampires were sworn enemies. The nekomata were close to obtaining the book, which would mean Anna was desperate. My dad might be strung up in her dungeon at that very moment. Or drained by Julius! Worse, what if either one of them compelled him to do something really drastic, like jump off a bridge or be used at the Mill Wheel by any female vamp who wanted him? I started to sweat thinking he might be dead or permanently missing. Why hadn’t I thought to give him some sort of protective charm while I could?

  When the phone did ring, I snatched it up so fast I swerved into the opposite lane. “Dad?”

  “Um, excuse me. I’m trying to reach, Grateful Knight?”

  “This is,” I said. I recognized the voice but couldn’t place it.

  “It’s Silas, Detective Silas Flynn.”

  “Oh, Silas. What’s up?”

  “Unfortunately, I’m calling on official business related to the crime scene at Maison des Étoiles.” I pictured the werewolf in my mind. I’d seen him at Valentines but voices always sounded different to me over the phone. I’d completely forgotten I’d given him my number, and that he’d promised to call with information on the finfolk and mountain troll attack.

  “I traced the finfolk back to a community living in Red Grove Lake. The finfolk king claims he knew nothing of the perpetrators’ plans. I expected as much. No supernatural in their right mind would admit a connection.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “But here’s the interesting thing, Grateful. He claims there’ve been Nightmares in the area. Became a little flustered just talking about it. A few of his people have gone missing and he blames them. He believes our perpetrator was possessed by one and didn’t know what he was doing.”

  “I had a woman come into my ER possessed by one. She was infected at Red Grove Lake. Sounds like we have an epidemic on our hands.”

  “Do you know much about them? We’ve never encountered this problem before on the force. Normally, Nightmares are a mild annoyance to humans, not a threat,” Silas said.

  “You know about as much as I do. A magical entity has to be facilitating the possessions. Nightmares can’t do that on their own. Any idea who might be helping them?”

  “None.”

  “Did you find out about the troll? Was he a victim as well?”

  “We can only assume. The trolls were…uncooperative. I couldn’t get any information out of the community and narrowly avoided becoming a lot thinner under one of their clubs.”

  “Ah. But given the troll’s natural tendency to avoid humans, it would fit the profile.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “So what can I do to help, Silas? What are your next steps?”

  “Since you live in the area, would you mind investigating again at Red Grove Lake, maybe seeing if you can find where the nightmares are organizing?”

  “They’re incorporeal. My understanding is they have to go back to the netherworld during the day, unless they’ve possessed someone.”

  “Exactly. With this type of activity, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn they’re congregating in that region, a mass possession. You mentioned the human was possessed at the lake. Did you ever find out why she was there?”

  “No. It’s not a popular tourist attraction, especially in winter.”

  “Can you investigate? See if you can find out why she was there and when she became possessed. Maybe look for signs of a nightmare settlement.”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. I’d do it myself but I’m going to be indisposed for a few days. Full moon.”

  “Oh. I thought when you were dating Soleil—”

  “That I didn’t have to change unless I wanted to? That’s true. Her sunlight can keep the moon away. A fortunate advantage of our mating.”

  “Then why—”

  “She hasn’t returned my calls. When I call the Maison, the girls tell me she’s busy and can’t be disturbed. I guess you could say I’m in the doghouse.” He chuckled but I could tell it wasn’t remotely funny to him.

  “I’m sorry. I thought you two made a cute couple.”

  “Yeah, me too. Such is love.” He cleared a lump from his throat, and we said our goodbyes.

  I tossed my phone into the cupholder, thinking about how I’d never gotten the chance to ask Rick how he’d found the woman. But I didn’t stop when I reached his stone cottage. I was too worried about my dad. As I crossed over the stone bridge, I considered calling his office line and asking his secretary where he was. I’d never had to do that before and would have to look up the number.

  Thankfully, when my house came into view, I could put aside my fears. My father was in my driveway, leaning against his car in the cold winter sunshine. Thank goodness. He was safe, and by the looks of it, extremely pissed.

  * * * * *

  “You are acting like a two year old,” my father said, helping himself to the bottle of scotch I kept in the little cabinet over the refrigerator for him.

  “How could you say that? You sold my home right from under me. Take some accountability. I told you I wanted to buy it from you and you sold me out to the highest bidder. What kind of father does that?”

  He poured the scotch over ice from the freezer and sat down on a stool at my kitchen island, pulling off his gloves and hat. He was still wearing his coat. Lifting his glass, he said, “The kind of father who needs the money.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Since when? You’re one of the top real estate agents in the Carlton City area.”

  “You might have noticed the real estate market has been in the toilet lately, Grateful. It’s not just this property that isn’t selling. Very few of my listings have sold in the last two years, especially the big ticket properties in the city.” He sipped his drink.

  Arms crossed, I leaned against the sink and pouted in his direction. “Gary paid me back. I can give you sixty thousand in cash, today, if you’ll sell the house to me.”

  “Gary? Your ex-boyfriend? I thought he was dead or missing or something.”

  “You and me both. He showed up on my doorstep and paid me back everything he owed me, plus interest. So, I have the money.”

  His head swam back and forth on his shoulders. One well-manicured hand lifted to scratch his five o’clock shadow. “I’m sorry, Grateful. Contracts have been signed. Deposits made. I can’t just undo it.”

  A dull ache was beginning at the base of my neck, a tension headache threatening to take over. I rubbed the spot with both hands. “I can’t tell you why, Dad, but staying here is very important to me. I love this house. I love Red Grove. I have a new boyfriend who lives just up the street.”

  “Ah, so that’s the real story. Why is it always about the boyfriend with you?”

  Grrr. “It’s not about the boyfriend. It’s about me. I’ve built a life here.”

  The ice in his glass clinked together as he drained the last drops. He poured himself another. Geesh, at this rate I’d have to drive him home. He dug his fingers into his hair as if I was literally driving him insane.

  “Is this house not positioned over a sink hole?” he snapped.

  I frowned. “Actually? No. I staged the rumble to scare your buyer away.”

  His mouth dropped open at my admission. “How did you do that?” He held up a hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. What about the rat?”

  “Same.”<
br />
  “Grateful!”

  “I was desperate.” I placed my hands on the counter and leaned forward. “Is there any way for me to buy it, Dad?”

  “No.”

  Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. “Can I ask you for one tiny concession, then?”

  He propped his face against his palm and gave me an exasperated sigh. “Okay. What is it? I’ll do my best.”

  “There is no way that I can be packed and moved out of here by next Friday. Can you push back the closing?”

  He pulled out his phone, looked at the screen as if he’d gotten an email, then started keying something in. I waited patiently. It was only my life in the balance. Couldn’t he see how important this was to me?

  “Done,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I texted the buyer and said I had a personal emergency, could not make the closing on Friday, and we’d have to push it back. So, there you go.”

  I walked to his side of the counter and hugged him around the neck. “I’m sorry I acted the way I did. I should have called you back earlier.”

  “Darling, you have your father’s temper. I should have spoken to you before I sold the house. But, in my defense, the last house I sold was also in Red Grove and over market value. This town is booming.”

  “You sold another house out here?”

  “Yep.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “On the other side of the lake. Little cabin in the woods style place off Rt. 3.Used to belong to Elmer…”

  “Bishop?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I bought my desk at his estate sale.”

  “You bought a desk? I thought you were broke?”

  “I’m recovering. I really could have bought this house.”

  “Huh.”

  “Who bought Elmer’s place?”

  “Some woman, all by herself.”

  A tingle traveled from my toes to my scalp. “A woman by herself?”

  “Yeah. She said she was into nature. Loved the lake. A writer I think, an introvert. Wanted time alone.”

  I swallowed hard and tried to find my voice. It took me a few tries to get out a suitable question. “You know, I think I heard about someone from work that was looking for a house. What did she look like?”