Disenchanted (16 page)

“Accepted.” Rey raises his bottle tipping it toward me. Nyssa nods in agreement, the worry gone from her eyes, replaced with their usual sparkle.

“Keely, you have no idea the trouble you are in,” says Dara, the bottle dangling from her fingers.

“Sure I do. I’ve been unofficially accused of butchering Ens. Whoever actually committed the crimes has used my salon to acquire the means to do so, making me an unwitting accomplice. One of the most influential men in Des Moines owns my ass. I don’t know what in hel he is, or what he wants and the people who can tell me more than likely won’t do it in a manner I can decipher. My salon is in the toilet; my employees are destitute because of me, and one may have taken up prostitution. Don’t tell me I have no idea what kind of trouble I’m in. I know full well what kind of trouble. Has anyone heard from Jenny?”

They say silence is golden and right at this moment, I agree. That little spew sure felt good. Maybe I should let things out more often. The look of shock on their faces is enough to sustain me for a week, but no one answers my question about Jenny.

“Well? Has she called?”

They share a look that makes me more than nervous.

“No one knows and the police are looking for her.”

An invisible weight crushes down. “Because of what I said?”

“Actually, when we had not heard from her we began to worry and tried to track her down. When that failed, we filed a missing person’s report. Unfortunately, that put an even greater shadow of suspicion on you. So, no, we do not know where she is and no, you did not know the entire scope of the trouble you are in.” Dara sets her beer down none too gently. A frothy trail erupts, making its way down the bottle and across the table.

“Oh, crap.”

“The
crap
is going to hit the fan, if you don’t get your skinny buns out here and finish doing my hair. I have to get to work.” The forgotten Lorelei stands in the doorway, patting her rollers.

I grimace, sliding off the counter and follow her.

“Sorry about that,” I say, my fingers moving over her head as fast as they can. Nyssa joins us, taking on the other side. “The last thing I want is to make my one and only client late, especially one who saved my butt earlier.”

She grins. “Do you know how hard it is to find a good hairstylist?”

I grin back. “Nope, but I still appreciate you not jumping ship on me.” I work my hands through her now freed tresses and grab the spray. Both of us hold our breath as I put the finishing touches on her now glamorous mane. “Want me to do your make up and save you some time?”

“No, I’ll be fine. They can’t start the show without me.” She winks, tossing a tip onto the vanity before sauntering off to the front desk.

Tossing my cape onto the chair, I put my comb into the sanitizer before looking at the tip. Holy crap. I was used to a ten, sometimes a twenty when I’d done something more than the usual. I think she missed a zero tonight, in my favor. Grabbing the hundred, I scurried up front, but she’d already driven away.

Nyssa giggled from behind the desk. “She wondered how long it would take you to notice.”

“She told you about this?” I ask, waving the bill in the air.

Nyssa nods, still laughing.

“Looks like supper is on Lorelei tonight.”

“I’ll call in an order and pick it up if you find out what the others want. Unless you want to surprise them with pizzas,” she says, already looking up the number for Basement Brews.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll get Rey to help you.”

***

Over pizza and beer, I try to explain what happened with Royd. His cryptic words confuse the others as much as they did me. Except for Dara. Somehow I get the feeling she knows more than she’s sharing. It’s probably going to take divine intervention to get her to spill. I decide to save the
First Arrow
stuff for a more private conversation. By the end of our meal, everyone is in agreement that first thing tomorrow I call The Sisters and attempt to get them to explain. It’s also agreed that they probably won’t give a straight answer. Such is my life as of late.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“Knew this day would come. Inevitable. Hid you as long as possible. Protect you, we cannot.”

Three voices in unison. The Sisters must be using the speakerphone I got them. If the surround sound effect isn’t bad enough, they’re stuck in fantasy land mode and I fear at any moment I’ll be called
my precious
. No matter what Royd thinks, I’ll never get a clear answer from the triplets. Knowingly, or not, they’ve mastered the art of confusion. I didn’t even have to say anything when they picked up, they just started talking. They probably knew I was going to call before I did.

“Protect me from what?” Futile I know, but got to try.

“Destiny.”

“And what might that destiny be?”

“You will know when the time is right. Many choices you will have to make. Choose carefully.”

“So you can’t, or won’t tell me?”

“To tell would do no good, only harm. You must discover alone. Help you, we cannot.”

“But I need your help. He said I was supposed to ask you.”

“Of whom do you speak?”

“Var Royd. He said you should answer my questions.”

The hissing I hear is obviously not from the phone as it fades to whispers I can’t decipher. I think I hear words like dangerous, destruction and death, three d’s I don’t want to hear. Especially together.

“How do you know that name? Stay away from him.”

“Trust me, it’s not like I’m purposely trying to make friends with him. He seems to be taking a rather personal interest in me lately.” I’m not about to tell them he owns the note on my business, that would probably send them over the edge. “He calls me mein Schattenkind. What does it mean?”

“A mistake was made in the past, but the sun burned away the shadows. Law was ignored in the present and history threatens to repeat. Protections placed are waning and the Shadow King presses against The Veil. Future’s outcome is unknown.”

Crapnar. Sun beats shadows, yeah. Mistakes in the past, laws broken, history repeats and the future is unknown. That tells me so much. How the hel does this apply to me?

“Stay away from the Sun King. His Shield will protect and his Sword will cut, yet loyalty wavers.”

Sun King? Shield? Sword? Great, more stupid clues to nowhere.

“What does Schattenkind mean?”

“Shadow child.”

Sun burned away shadow. My stomach begins to do loop–de–loops and a nasty, burning flavor hits the back of my throat. If he’s the sun, I must be the shadow. Schattenkind. Wait, Shadow King? Einen? If I’m the mistake of the present, is he the mistake of the past?

“Keely, dearest, I’m glad you called. We’ve been so worried about you with all this Collector business.” Master Yoda times three disappears as my grandmother Matilda’s voice takes the lead, yanking me from thought.

It’ll do no good to question her about our conversation. I don’t know if they truly don’t remember what happens when they go into prophecy mode, or if it’s just an act. They claim ignorance and I’ve never been able to prove otherwise.

Nervous pacing ends as I reach the living room, lowing myself onto the couch next to Nyssa.

“She knows we worry about her, you don’t have to tell her,” says Eliza. “And don’t coddle her, she’s a grown woman.”

“She’s not coddling her,” chimes in Nicolina.

“Hi, Aunt Liza, Aunt Lina. I’m fine Grandma. Everything is fine, nothing to worry about.”

“Why did you call?” asks Eliza, always the blunt one.

“She called to chat. Didn’t you, dearest?” says Matilda.

“Of course she did, she loves her grandmother and great aunts.” I can almost hear the smile on Nicolina’s face.

“Yes, I love you all and miss you, but I did call to ask you something.” Here goes nothing. Maybe they will stay with me long enough to give me some sort of clue as to what their earlier words meant. “Do you know a Var Royd?”

Silence, deafening silence. If I’d heard three thumps, I’d at least know I gave them heart attacks. The silence stretches on. Either they know something, or they’re flipping back to prophecy mode.

Eliza finally breaks the stillness. “Stay away from that man. Do you hear me Keelina Monday Fey?”

Matilda and Nicolina echo her sentiment and I wince as Eliza practically yells my full name.

“Yes, Aunt Liza, I hear you.” My entourage snickers. This is why I didn’t want an audience. Amped up animal hearing sucks. Luckily, I’d been out of the room for the important stuff. I hope Eliza doesn’t start using embarrassing childhood stories as life lessons with them listening.

“That man is nothing, but trouble.”

“Yes, Aunt Liza. I wouldn’t worry about it. He probably just wants to sell me insurance.” I look at the others and roll my eyes.

“This call doesn’t have anything to do with that Collector business, does it?”

“No, I just called to check on you three and now that I know you’re all fine I better get going. I have some cleaning to do.”

There is no way I’m going to mention getting hauled in by NTF, my wicked bad dreams, or the incident with the plant. I didn’t tell the others and I don’t think I will, at least not yet. In person, I would never get away with lying, but over the phone I stand a chance.

“Take care, dearest,” all three say in unison.

“Goodbye Grandma, Aunt Liza, Aunt Lina. Love you all. Take care.” I hang up before they can add, or question anything else.

Flopping back against the couch, I look at the others. “Well, that was fun.”

“So your middle name is Monday?” Rey laughs. His knee–length braid, dangling over the edge of the chair, sweeping back and forth across the floor in front of C.C. “Monday’s child is—”

“Fair of face, yada, yada, yada. Yes, I was born on a Monday. I know, not very original.”

“I’d take Monday over Wednesday any day. Who would want to be cursed with woe?”

“Better be careful. If he catches that, it’s going to hurt,” I say, nodding at C.C., hoping to change the subject. The last thing I want to discuss is my middle name, supposedly given by my parents. I don’t resent them leaving, not much anyway. I’d just like to know why.

“No worse than Nys pulling while she braided it.” He sways his head, making the cat skitter across the floor. A pleasant, harmless distraction to watch after everything else that’s happened.

“So, what did the German mean?” asks Nyssa, joining in the hair versus cat game by wiggling the braid in front of his nose then holding it just out of reach. C.C. sits up on his haunches, batting at it. He loves the challenge almost as much as the attention.

“My shadow child.”

“Huh, wonder why Royd keeps calling you that.” Rey shifts in the chair when Nyssa pulls a little harder than intended, or maybe it wasn’t an accident. Her smile reminds me of the little sister of an old high school friend when she used to torment us.

“Good question.” If they didn’t hear it, I’m not about to repeat the little sun destroys shadow bit.

“Maybe it has something to do with your coloring,” he says. “You are kinda grey. Not that that’s bad, just unusual.”

“Yeah, I know, usually reserved for the dead.”

“That’s not what I meant. Not everyone can pull it off—it looks good on you.”

I can’t help grinning as he flusters along. Laying my head back against the couch, I sigh and close my eyes. “I’m not any closer to answers than I was before. The only people who can fill me in aren’t willing to do so.”

“Could be they aren’t able to.” He shifts again as Nyssa and C.C. begin a game of tug of war. “I know The Sisters have that whole fortune cookie Talent, but sometimes with destiny and prophecy stuff those in the know are restricted from saying anything that might change it. Not much consolation, but that’s the way it works.”

“Well, it sucks when you’re in the middle of it.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and twirl my thumbs. “You guys ever wonder about the stuff Dara doesn’t tell us?”

“Like the vamp stuff?” asks Nyssa, dropping Rey’s braid when C.C. grows tired of the game and wanders off.

“No, I mean her personally.”

“We all have our secret pasts we don’t like to talk about. Doesn’t mean it has anything to do with what’s going on with you.” She sits down next to me.

“Royd purposely mentioned her having ulterior motives in our friendship.”

“I still say he’s not to be trusted,” says Rey and with that, the subject is dropped like a hot potato. He swings around sitting upright in the chair.

“So girls, what’s on the agenda for tonight? Probably not a good idea to go to the club, unless we want to be clubbed.”

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny. You’re the one they would probably club, that is after they have a royal hunt.” Nyssa giggles.

He makes a noise of disgust and rolls his eyes. “They don’t
club
the fox, they shoot it.”