Justice Calling (The Twenty-Sided Sorceress Book 1) (2 page)

BOOK: Justice Calling (The Twenty-Sided Sorceress Book 1)
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Ciaran’s shop is an antiquer’s paradise and a neat freak’s nightmare. Also probably a nightmare if you have allergies. He kept it tidy, in its own cluttered way, but trying to keep dust off a few hundred old books, paintings, curio cabinets full of knives, glassware, art plates, figurines, tools with unknown purpose, guns that saw use last during the Civil War, and other interesting items was a task even an immortal couldn’t manage.

The shop had an almost smoky, magical feel that I loved. Above us chandeliers of all kinds from elk antlers to Waterford crystal lit the place, casting shadows into the shadows until you felt as though you might come around a table piled with swords and find the wardrobe that leads to Narnia. The air wasn’t musty, instead it was perfumed with orange and clove and some sort of citrus sent from whatever Ciaran used to wipe down the tables. The best part was that sometimes Ciaran really did have a magical item or two, though it was rare and he generally had me destroy them if we couldn’t figure out what they did. Letting normals buy magical things was just asking for later trouble that nobody wanted.

“Hey,” I whispered to Harper as we entered the shop, “What flavor is that Justice, anyway?”

“Flavor?” She whispered back. “Scary with a dollop of sexy?”

“No, like animal flavor,” I said, whacking the back of her head with my palm.

“Oh. Tiger.” She grinned and rubbed her head.

“Figures,” I muttered. “Guess he wouldn’t be like a rabbit or something.” I’d bet a week of earnings he would be the biggest damn tiger ever. Shifter animals were usually larger than real world ones anyway, but odds were that cocky bastard would be like the strongest, prettiest tiger ever to live. The universe was just like that.

“Most shifters are predators,” Harper said, ducking in front of me. “Makes sense someone who has to like hunt bad shifters and stuff would be a super predator, right?”

“You two done gossiping?” Ciaran called back to us. He was already halfway through the store.

Harper, and I wound our way through the tables and cabinets toward the back office where Ciaran kept any interesting purchases for me to go over, just in case, before putting them out on the floor.

“Was at an auction in Seattle last month,” Ciaran explained, using English for Harper’s benefit, “just got the goods shipped in today. Some old pieces; might be worth checking out before I put a price on them. Even found some of those silver buttons your mum likes so much, Azalea.”

Harper wrinkled her nose at him. He knew she hated being called by her name and preferred her gamer handle. She was about to reply when she stopped cold in front of me, forcing me to do a little dance sideways to avoid running into her. My arm wacked a cabinet and it jingled and rocked but settled without breaking anything. Thank the universe. I figure if something ever fell in here, it would domino and the whole place would crash like a bad YouTube video.

“Where… how… no… I…” Harper couldn’t get words out. She just pointed at a large stuffed fox that was perched on top of an oriental dresser.

“What about it, love? Are you all right?” Ciaran reached for Harper as she started to sink to the floor with horrible half-mewing, half-gulping cries.

I caught her first, wrapping my arms around her wiry body and finally seeing her face. Tears made her mascara run and her shoulders shook in my arms.

“That’s Rosie,” she gasped. “That’s my mom!”

Through the power of Irish hospitality or maybe some magical leprechaun mojo, Ciaran had Harper bundled in a sweater and holding a cup of mint tea before she even realized she’d finally stopped sobbing. Which was good, because Aleksei, who insisted Harper now call him Alek instead of Justice, was grilling her and Ciaran like a cop pushing a suspect.

To be fair, I don’t think he intended it to come out that way. I’d known him for maybe half an hour now and it seemed he only had one gear and it was stuck on one level: intense.

“I will go through my records, Jade, and see if I can get the ID of the man that sold this to me, all right?” Ciaran said. “It was a young man, on Tuesday, I remember that much.”

“See it done.” Alek turned his icy gaze on Harper. His gaze seemed to soften, but it was hard to tell. “And why did no one notice her missing all this time? You said she’s been gone since last weekend.”

“Because she was out picking mushrooms,” I said, stepping firmly between Alek and Harper. “Rose does that. She’ll be gone in those woods a week or so. It’s normal for her.”

“How would a poacher get her?” Harper choked out. “She shouldn’t have even been in fox form.”

She was right about that. Rose, her mother, ran a bed and breakfast on a ranch that was grandfathered into the River of No Return Wilderness. She was an earthy, eccentric, and loving woman who took all sorts of shifter strays in. She liked to go camping in the wilderness every spring before the summer season brought in wildlife photographers, white water rafters, hikers, and all the other people the Wilderness attracted.

“I was sent here by the council,” Alek said and he shook his head, eyes narrowing speculatively at me. “That means foul play.”

“Hey, I was manning my shop. Plus I wouldn’t touch a gun even if it snuggled and made me waffles.” I glared at him. “Oh, universe damn you. Now you are interrogating me. This is not cool.”

“My vision says you are the key,” he said, folding impressively muscled arms over his broad chest.

“Maybe you need your psychic eyes checked,” I shot back.

“Guys,” Harper said, sniffling. “Please. We need to find out how mom… oh god, I can’t say it. Just. Help me.”

I turned to her, taking the tea from her hands and setting it aside. She collapsed into my arms, shaking with renewed sobs. I couldn’t resist another glare at Alek, making it clear this was definitely his fault.

“Hey! Jade? Ciaran?” a male voice called out from back within the shop.

Fuck. Game night.

“Ezee, Levi, we’re back here,” I yelled to them, then said to Alek as his hand reached for his gun, “ease off there, Dirty Harry. They’re furry friendlies.”

“Is anyone human in this town?” he asked. He’d already sniffed at Ciaran and established he was safe since he wasn’t a normal.

“Steve,” Harper said, swallowing another sob and wiping her nose the now damp sleeve of Ciaran’s sweater.

“Harper? You okay? What’s going on?” The twins had made their way back to us.

Ezekiel and Levi Chapowits are Native American like myself, but Nez Perce, not Crow. They’re fraternal, not identical twins, but they share a lot of the same features. Strong bone structure, above average height, thick black hair, dark eyes. Beyond that, and being giant nerds, they are nothing alike. Ezee is a coyote shifter and wears designer knockoff suits he sews himself. He teaches American History and Native Studies up at Juniper College.

Levi is a wolverine who wears nothing but cargo pants, work boots, and tee-shirts stained with the guts of the cars he works on in his shop. He wears his hair in a long Mohawk and has enough piercings in his face that I joke I could peel his skin and use it to strain pasta.

They both break the heart of every woman they meet, pretty much. Not just because they are handsome, smart, and awesome, but because Levi is happily married to a crazy hippy artist and owl shifter named Junebug and Ezee is as gay as Neil Patrick Harris.

“Someone killed mom,” Harper blurted out.

“Fraking-a,” Ezee said. “That why there’s a Justice here?”

Trust Ezee to have noticed the tall hot guy and taken in the feather talisman in a glance.

“What?” Levi said. “Oh, hello.” He tipped his head to Alek.

Alek nodded back, finally seeming at a loss for words in the face of the twins. I was certain he’d start interrogating them soon enough, however.

“Where’s Rose? What happened?” Levi asked.

“Behind you,” I said softly.

A lot more curse words came from the twins as they looked Rose’s dead body over.

“I don’t see a wound,” Ezee said finally.

“We should get an autopsy. That’s what they do on TV.” Harper pulled the sweater tight around herself and stood up.

“Is your medical examiner shifter also?” Alek asked.

“No,” Levi said. “He’s with County. We aren’t big enough to have our own.” Levi also was a volunteer firefighter. That kind of multitasking happens when you live as long as shifters do and in a small town like Wylde.

I ran my hands over Rose’s body, swallowing bile as nausea wormed through me. I was manhandling one of my favorite people in the world. My eyes felt too tight and hot in their sockets and I realized I was about to cry. Shit. I never cry. Not in a couple decades. Not anymore.

I don’t know much about taxidermy, but I figured there would be seams, staples, something. I felt nothing but her fur, its longer russet hairs rough and the lighter undercoat thick and soft on my fingers. I looked into her creepily realistic glass eyes and wished I could ask her what the hell she’d been doing in fox form and how she’d gotten caught. It was possible whoever had done this had no idea he’d killed and stuffed a person.

Which didn’t make my desire to hunt him down and stuff him any less rage-filled and immediate.

“Vivian Lake can do it,” I said. “She’s the local vet. Wolf shifter,” I added, seeing the look on Alek’s face. I took a deep breath as I stepped away from Rose.

Time to put on my Game Master face and get shit done.

“Levi, call Steve. Tell him no game tonight, family emergency. Ezee, you take Harper up to my place.” I pulled out my keys and tossed them to him. Harper looked as though she’d protest for a moment but then leaned into Ezee with another sob.

“Thank you, Jade,” she whispered. “I don’t think I can, I mean…” she trailed off.

“I know, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out. You have a car?” I said then, turning back to Alek.

Ciaran came down the back stairs from his own apartment with a blanket, holding it out. I gave him a half smile of thanks, glad he’d foreseen that we would want something to carry her in.

Before I could, Alek took the blanket and wrapped Rose up with a gentle carefulness that surprised me. As presumptuous as he was, I was kind of glad I didn’t have to touch her again. He looked at me, apparently waiting for me to lead the way out. Another surprise. Maybe he wasn’t always a macho asshole. Or maybe he just wanted to keep me in front of him so he could keep an eye on me. I shoved away those thoughts.

“Okay, Justice, since I’m betting you’ll want to be there, let’s go see Dr. Lake.”

Alek didn’t let me drive his truck. Guess the surprises had run out. It wasn’t what Harper and I would joke was a “compensating for it” truck, but a good sized Ford with scratches and dents and a little dirt around the edges that let you know this guy used his truck for things, not just for driving around. The interior smelled of wet grass, damp earth, and a vanilla-laced musk that I was pretty sure came from Alek himself.

My whole body, all my senses, were aware of the huge, handsome man only inches away from me. Not a thing that boded well. The last time I’d been this instantly attracted to someone, he’d tried to fatten me up with magic, Hansel and Grettel style, and then eat my heart. I inched my ass as close to the door as possible, putting a bit more gap between us on the bench seat.

The drive to Dr. Lake’s should have taken about five minutes, but we hit the single stop light on Main and it was red. An old woman, someone I didn’t recognize, which meant she was not a nerd and probably part of the human half of Wylde, inched her way across the crosswalk.

“Where are you staying?” I asked, more out of a need to fill the silence and not think about what was inside the hand-sewn quilt on my lap. There were two tiny motels in town, mostly catering to the College for visiting family and the summer tourists.

“I have a house trailer,” he said. “It’s at the Mikhail and Sons RV Park, you know it?”

Of course I knew it. Mikhail and his two sons were bear shifters. Vasili, the younger son, had a thing for Magic the Gathering cards. His purchases paid my building rent every time a new expansion came out. They were good people. I could just imagine how they’d bent over backward to accommodate a Justice. I bet they hadn’t charged him. I wasn’t going to ask that aloud. I was more curious about this whole vision thing of his.

BOOK: Justice Calling (The Twenty-Sided Sorceress Book 1)
8.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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