Necromancing the Stone (16 page)

I sighed. “Fine, I’ll go get you something. Haley, fill her in.”

By the time I came back with Ash’s drink and scone, Haley was wrapping it up. Ash settled her snack in front of her and put a little paper napkin on her lap. I guess you can be dead and still care about getting crumbs on your skirt. She smoothed out the napkin. “Why don’t you just call the phone tree?”

Haley didn’t say “I told you so,” but she didn’t have to—I could see it on her face. I ignored her, of course.

“Fine,” I said, “where is it?”

“James probably has it. Call a meeting and ask about your human cop then.”

I frowned. “You don’t think they’ll nix the idea?”

She broke off a piece of her scone, examining it while she thought. “There’s no harm in asking. Dunaway hasn’t gone running to the papers about you yet, and he might have ideas that we won’t.” She popped a bit of scone into her mouth. “The Council is full of experts, but none of their expertises are detecting. Maybe you can sell it like that.” She broke off another chunk of scone. “If you play it right, it might actually help soothe some of the pack’s ruffled … well, I was going to say feathers, but maybe I should say fur.”

I leaned back in my chair, which wasn’t easy in the scrawny wooden thing I was in. “You think?”

She nodded. “It will make it clear that you’re trying everything you can think of. That you’re putting yourself at risk by revealing to the Council as well as the human authorities a weakness—that you can’t do this on your own. It will show that finding out who killed Brannoc is more important.”

“Of course it’s more important.”

“Yeah, but this will show it.”

Haley leaned in and held out her hand. “Give me your phone, and I’ll call James.” I did as she said, watching her walk outside to make the call, thankful that while I seemed really good at getting myself into messes, I appeared equally good at surrounding myself with people who would help me out of them.

*   *   *

I dropped Haley off at home. I couldn’t exactly take my little sister to a Council meeting, now, could I? Ashley vamoosed as soon as we’d hit the car, but promised to come back later. For about five minutes, I drove in silence after Haley got out. But the quiet allowed too much time to think about what might go wrong and what already had. I turned up the stereo after that, too loud for ruminations, but not so loud that blood came out of my ears.

The gnomes were watching
Walker, Texas Ranger
when I walked in. They were getting popcorn everywhere, which was going to send James into fits. Frank was with them, though, and monitoring their behavior somewhat, so I didn’t say anything. I needed to shower and change. I couldn’t go to a meeting in a T-shirt and shorts—it would give James an embolism.

On the way, I stopped by his room to check in. He had curled his long frame into a chair and was clutching a throw pillow to his chest. Oddly enough, he was also watching TV. It looked weird. I guess I’d always assumed that James listened to opera and read classic novels on his breaks. He seemed like that kind of person. I didn’t even get a chance to knock before he waved me in without looking in my direction.

I hadn’t really spent a lot of time in James’s room, but I had noticed that, more often than not, he was human when he was in there. He didn’t go into kitty default mode until he left. Maybe it was a comfort thing?

His room was cozier than I had imagined. I think I’d expected antiques and hard Victorian furniture. He did have a four-poster for a bed, but the blankets were broken in and comfortable looking, a patchwork of inviting blues, reds, greens. The room was tidy, but the shelves were full of books, knickknacks, and random odds and ends. The furniture was some kind of warm-looking wood, again looking old and broken in. And though he didn’t have any posters, the walls were all painted in mural fashion. Trees around the bed, their branches reaching up onto the ceiling, where a night scene was painted very
Starry Night
style. His room was beautiful and functional, and when I sat on the bed, I realized that I didn’t know very much about James.

He didn’t say anything right away, so I remained quiet and continued to look. A small framed picture stood on his nightstand. Without thinking I picked it up. What could only be a young James—who else had silver eyes?—stood under the branches of a weeping willow. He didn’t look more than twelve, but he was dressed smartly even then, though a trifle out of date. The photo looked like the early versions of color photography I’d seen. Douglas was next to him, a hand resting on the boy’s shoulders. Douglas was smiling a little. It was creepy. James wasn’t smiling. I guess he’d perfected his somber face at a tender age.

“I set up the meeting. And I ordered your new furniture.” He said all this without looking away from the screen. He was damn near mesmerized.

I squinted at the TV. “Um, are you watching
Murder, She Wrote
?”

“I find it to be … soothing.”

I laughed, turning it into a cough when James turned to glare at me. Pounding my chest, I made an apologetic face. “Sorry, something in my throat.”

The glare intensified. “Go ahead, get it out.”

I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Nothing from this party.”

Ramon sauntered in eating an apple. “Is that what I think it is?”

James sighed and released his pillow. “Do I need to hang a no-trespassing sign on my door?”

Ramon ignored him and sat next to me. “It’s cool, I just didn’t realize you were an eighty-year-old woman. Hey, that’s Tom Selleck! Is this a crossover episode? He looks all
Magnum, P.I
.”

“It is.”

“Sweet. My mom loves
Magnum
. She has all the seasons.” Ramon stretched out on the bed, and we watched the rest of the episode in silence. At first I think our presence annoyed James, but eventually he relaxed. I realized that he’d probably never learned how to hang out with a group of people before. Until my hostile takeover, it had been just him and Douglas. And, occasionally, a psychotic werewolf named Michael, and I couldn’t really see him appreciating Jessica Fletcher and her exploits. I think Michael’s only hobbies had been weightlifting and admiring his “guns.” It would be hard for James to adapt to having a legion of people in the house after that.

Once the credits rolled, James morphed back into kitty form while I went over things so I could figure out how his phone calls had gone and how to prepare for the meeting. Surprisingly, Ramon insisted on going with me.

“I don’t need to go to the actual meeting, but I want to go with you to the Den afterward.” He hesitated, which was unlike him. “I think you could use the extra muscle right now. Your cat here is impressive, but the more the merrier on this one.”

“Technically,” James said, standing up and arching his back, “I am a
pukis
, not a cat, but I agree.”

Ramon threw his apple core into a trash can. “The pack is mass confusion right now, Sammy, and I think we should do what we can to avoid … incidents.”

“Incidents.” I laughed. “What a nice euphemism for ‘let’s see if we can keep them from ripping off Sam’s arm and beating him to death with it.’”

I was hoping they’d argue, that they’d insist I was being overly dramatic. They didn’t. Instead, both of them eyed me levelly, and I knew they were thinking exactly that. I ignored the leaden feeling those looks caused in my stomach and got up.

“All right,” I said. “That makes sense. Let’s dress to impress, then, fellas.”

14

TURN AND FACE THE STRANGE (CH-CH-CHANGES)

The Tongue & Buckle had just opened up for the early crowd when I walked in. Zeke patted us down, waving us in one by one as he finished. The meeting wasn’t due to start yet, so I pulled up a stool at the bar with James and Ramon flanking me. Aengus plopped a stout in front of James before getting requests from Ramon and me. I was just surprised to see James drinking something that wasn’t tea or water.

We sat in the quiet of the bar for a few moments. There were only a couple of other patrons, so the murmur of voices was low. I decided to practice a little while I waited. Dropping my head so it looked like I was staring at my coaster, I closed my eyes and let my mind open up. I still wasn’t really used to the sensation. It feels kind of like your skull dissolves and your mind flows out over the room—a freaky cerebral version of echolocation. I took in the Tongue & Buckle and the people in it.

“What do you see?” I heard James say softly.

“Magic. Lots of it. And it’s … old.” I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but that’s how it felt to me. The Tongue & Buckle pulsed with it. The magic had seeped into the very wood.

“The customers?”

“The one by the door, he’s human. I can tell by the coloring of, well, his aura, for lack of a better word. The two in the corner…” I frowned. I didn’t recognize their coloring, but it was different enough for me to know that they weren’t human. “I don’t know what they are.”

I heard the soft
whoosh
of James scenting the air. “Fey of some sort. Not sure which, exactly.”

Someone walked in front of me, and whoever it was, I was impressed. “Wow.”

A palm slammed down on the wood before me, and my eyes snapped open.

“Cut it out,” Aengus said.

“Holy crap, Aengus, what
are
you?” Aengus was the only member of the Council who remained a mystery to me, at least as far as his creepy-crawly status was concerned. I knew he was powerful, of course, but I hadn’t had a real grasp of what that meant until now.

“An irritated bartender. Now, mind my customers’ privacy, will you?”

My cheeks burned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

He just grunted and walked away.

Ramon sniggered. “Great start.”

“Shut up.” I tried to imagine a day when I was so integrated into my new world that I’d stop making horrible faux pas, but it was a hard day to picture.

“James, when you can, I’d like you to stop by my mom’s house and check their security.”

He didn’t look up, just swished his half-full pint glass in a lazy circle. “Why?”

I explained what had happened as briefly as I could. “I’m just worried about them—and I know how good you are with security. You keep me alive, at any rate.” I didn’t add that he seemed to like my family a hell of a lot more than he liked me. I was pretty positive he’d protect them based solely on that affection and not so much on my request.

He stopped his swishing to take a long drink, and I swear for a brief moment his face looked mournful. Before I could be certain, the look was gone, and he was back to stone-faced James. “Of course,” he said, his voice soft.

No sharp words or verbal jabs. Huh. I considered asking about that, but felt it might be best to just leave a good thing alone.

The other Council members filtered in, but I stayed where I was. There was someone I had to meet first, but before that someone could show up, the last person I wanted to see entered the room. She was also the first person I wanted to see. Ah, the inconsistencies of human emotion. Brid came over and stood near me awkwardly, obviously not sure if she should hug me or just say hi. I nodded at her, suddenly bone weary.

“I didn’t expect you here,” I said.

Brid shoved her hands into her pockets. She was dressed up for the meeting, charcoal lightweight slacks I’d helped her pick out, the emerald of her tank top making me notice the green flecks in her hazel eyes, even though she had a sort of 1930s paperboy cap on. And of course, combat boots, the better to walk on my heart with, damn it. I wiped my face with one hand.

“Can you at least have the decency to look like crap for a while? I feel like you’re making this harder on me than necessary.”

Her lips twisted into a soft half smile. “As long as you do the same.”

Next to me, James snorted. “Don’t think you’ll have much of a problem there.”

I elbowed him.

Brid leaned in, her eyes closing, her nostrils flaring. When you date a girl who spends a lot of time as a wolf, you get used to being scented. I guess it might be weird for some, but I thought it was kind of cute.

She sighed, her eyes opening. “This is hard,” she whispered. “I wasn’t ready to see you, I guess.” She leaned over, nudging me with her side, brushing up against me, a very wolflike mannerism.

I wrapped one arm around her, pulling her into a sideways hug and planting a quick kiss on her forehead. “Yeah, most people aren’t forced to have meetings with their exes only hours after dumping them. But I had to call it. You understand why. Couldn’t you squeak out of this one?”

“Maybe,” she said, resting her chin on my shoulder. “But it would be easy to let things slip, and even easier for someone to challenge me for my spot if I didn’t immediately come in and establish dominance.”

She seemed so tired and worn. It was hard to look at her, knowing I couldn’t do anything to help. And knowing she wasn’t really mine to help anymore. No, that wasn’t right. It sucked, don’t get me wrong, and I wanted nothing more than to try to talk her into forgetting our whole breakup conversation earlier, but … first and foremost, she was my friend. And you help your friends, even if it fucking breaks your heart to do so.

“I’ll try to keep it short,” I said. Then I sent her on in while I waited for the detective and thought about how much of a pain in the ass it is to be a good person sometimes.

Dunaway was just how I remembered him. Short brown hair, clean jaw, and somehow able to look both good-natured and like someone you wouldn’t want to tussle with at the same time. He seemed bigger than he actually was. I wish I could project that much authority, but I just don’t have it in me. In fact, I think I actually look smaller than I am.

I got up and shook his hand and smiled. I couldn’t help it. For some reason, I liked Dunaway, despite the fact that he’d once threatened to lock me up and toss the key in a lake.

“I’m not a hundred percent sure why I’m here.”

My grin turned sheepish. “You might be here on a wasted errand, but I had to try. I’m going to go in there and talk to some people.”