Obsidian Curse (15 page)

Chapter 26

Fifteen minutes later, Cinnamon, Thor, and I were driving to the book signing.

I gave her a sideways glance. “So, I guess you’re wondering what that was all about.”

She slid her eyes to me. “Not even a little bit.”

“Okay then.” I scratched my neck. “This damn thing is itchy.”

Lolly had insisted I wear some sort of protection out in public, lest I be captured by tiny bandits and strapped to railroad tracks. She decided that her faux fur coat, circa 1970, was the way to go and she sprayed some special potion on it as an added precaution. So now I looked like Bigfoot.

Cinnamon wrinkled up her nose. “It kind of smells too.”

I sniffed the sleeve and coughed. “I know. I think it’s been doused with a combination of catnip and cow dung.”

There was no parking anywhere near the store, so we pulled the car around to the next block and backtracked up to Main Street.

Thor hung back to water a fire hydrant while Cinnamon and I walked into the bookstore. Birdie made me leave my tranquilizer gun at home, but I still had a few tricks up my sleeve so I wasn’t completely unarmed. I didn’t know if whoever shot my window out would be here, but I had a pretty good idea that someone was watching Blade closely and I wanted to be prepared for anything.

The place was packed, standing room only, and Blade had already begun his reading. Cinnamon spotted Tony and waved to him. He rushed over to us and kissed his wife and handed her a fast-food bag.

“I love you!” Cinnamon said and snatched the bag.

“I saved seats for you two,” Tony said.

Tony was a sweet guy and I was glad to call him my cousin-in-law. He had the typical Italian skin, dark hair, and dreamy eyes a girl could fall in love with. He also had the patience of a saint, which had served him well these last few months and, I hoped, would sustain him for the next few.

“Thanks, Tony, but I’m going to stay in back and find a spot for my laptop. I’m covering this for work so I have some notes to take.” I patted my bag.

“Okay, see you at the Opal after?”

There was a cocktail reception at my cousin’s bar and grill following the signing, compliments of Blade’s publisher.

“Yep. I’ll be there.”

I found a place in the corner with a sturdy table, shoved a couple of books aside, and set my computer on top of it. I fired it up and entered my password.

As the file that I began earlier opened, I assessed the audience. Leo was standing off to the side, trying to look threatening, but I could tell he was hanging on Blade’s every word. I recognized the archeologist and the scientist I was scheduled to interview tomorrow from the research I had done. They were seated toward the back, side by side, and I briefly wondered if they knew each other. The archeologist was a weathered-looking woman with a face aged by sun, sand, and wind. Her white hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and she was wearing jeans and a cargo-style jacket with zippers and pockets covering every inch of it. The scientist was a thin, balding man in his fifties with wire-rimmed glasses and gaunt cheeks. His tee shirt had the face of Einstein on it and he was wearing plaid pants. Chance was nowhere to be found, but I spotted Frieda there in the front row. She seemed intensely interested in Blade’s reading. His book was nestled in her lap and she kept opening and closing the covers, the pages cascading like a paper fan.

Several townspeople and old classmates of mine were also scattered about the room, as well as some business owners, the mayor, Derek, and Gladys. I made a mental note to pull Gladys aside afterwards and ask how her interviews had gone.

I typed a few notes in the Word file about who was in the audience, the passage Blade was reading, the book’s title and cost, and where it could be purchased.

When I was finished saving the file, I looked back toward Blade. There was a large spider weaving a web along the base of the podium where Blade was speaking. When I had seen the sign before, in my office, I had assumed that it was Blade Knight who was the uninvited guest. Now I knew better. He was the target. I studied the audience, centered myself, and tried to capture a signal from someone, calling on my spirit guides to aid me.

One word whispered in my head.

Reunion
.

Could that be it? Was the killer someone who went to school in Amethyst? A student of Blade’s father? Or a soccer player? A teacher?

Something flashed out of the corner of my eye, and I whipped my head sideways to catch it. A nanosecond later, and I would have missed it. There, next to the latest Barry Eisler and Janet Evanovich novels, was a display case featuring a family of gnomes. Except one of them, wearing a faded green hat, blinked.

I stood stark still, pretending to read the titles in the bookshelf next to him. There was a slight flutter in his hands and I brought my arm up quickly. My face shielded from a potential fairy blast, I pulled an aspirin-tipped nail file from the coat sleeve, and, in one swift motion, launched it at the sucker.

It was a direct hit in his pointy little head. He toppled over instantly, stiff as a statue. A few people glanced over toward the direction of what sounded like a plastic cup hitting a wooden table.

Blade, ever the professional, did not flinch.

Aspirin, I had been informed by Fiona, was safe for humans, but hell on fairies.

I sent Birdie a text.
Cleanup on aisle four.

That was the code she told me to send if I needed one of the coven members to collect any casualties of war.

Three tiny pebble-like things rolled around the carpet near my right foot. Ammunition for a fairy blast, I supposed. I ground them into dust.

It seemed like all was clear until two thick hands came up from behind me and slapped over my eyes.

I was about to pull my Taser out when a voice I hadn’t heard in years said, “Guess who?”

“Oh my God,” I squealed softly and turned around to see Chance’s brother, Caleb, standing in front of me.

I pulled him off to the side away from the crowd then hugged him tight and stood back to look at him. He was twelve years older than Chance, but other than a few more lines and a touch of gray in his hair, he was the spitting image of his brother.

“What the hell are you wearing, Red? Is that a bear carcass, because it smells like one.” He smiled.

Caleb was the prankster in the family. The man would do anything for a joke. He used to work at a pizza place and whenever Birdie would order one, he’d shape it into a witch’s hat. She complained every time, but I think she secretly loved it. I’d always adored him.

“A gift from Lolly,” I said.

Caleb held his hand up. “Say no more, sister, say no more.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Caleb worked in New York for a television studio.

He shrugged. “The reunion. I haven’t been to one in a while, figured I may as well make an appearance, see some old friends, visit the folks and that knucklehead you’re dating.” He glanced around the room. “By the way, where is he?”

“Working late, I guess. He’s supposed to meet me, though, so he should be here soon.”

Caleb nodded and a serious look spread across his face. “Good, because I need to talk to you anyway.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Oh? What about?” I didn’t like the tone in his voice.

“About Chance. Mom said he’s been acting strange. She wants you to come by the house to talk. Plus she misses you. Hasn’t seen you in what, a week or so?” He grinned, stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Now I felt guilty. It had probably been close to a month since I’d last visited Chance’s parents.

“Longer than that, I’m afraid, but I haven’t noticed a change in Chance. Did she say specifically what was strange about the way he’s been acting?”

“No, but you know Mom. She’s not happy unless she’s worrying about something.”

“I’ll stop by tomorrow.” I pointed to Blade, who was now taking questions from the audience. “Are you a fan?”

Caleb looked over to the author. “I’ve read a few of his books. The studio is in talks with his agent about a network series based on the Tracey Stone character.”

This was new information, although I doubted it was relevant to the murders. Speaking of which. “So you know who he is then?”

Caleb cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“You played soccer, right? His father was a coach and a teacher. Conrad.”

Caleb’s head snapped toward Blade. “I knew he looked familiar. That’s Joseph Conrad?”

“Yes. Did you know him?”

“I knew who he was, but he was a few years younger than me.” His face darkened. “A shame what happened to his parents. Coach Conrad was a great guy. Everyone loved him.”

“So he didn’t have any enemies then? No one you could think of who wanted to kill him?”

Caleb gave me a funny look. “What gave you that idea? I thought it was just a break-in gone bad.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” I said.

“Are you working on a story? Digging up old ghosts?”

“Something like that.” I looked at Caleb. “What were the rumors going around at the time? Anything you can remember?”

Caleb scratched his chin, thinking for a moment. He shrugged. “Just the usual, I guess. Some people thought it was a couple of kids looking for drug money, others thought maybe they were in a cult.” He rolled his finger in circles around his head as if to say the ones who thought that were cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. Then something sparked in his brain and he shook his head as if waving the thought away.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“No, tell me, anything that can help.”

Caleb scratched his chin as he thought back to his youth. “A few weeks before he died, the coach started carrying around a book all the time. He would read it on the bus to and from games and you couldn’t talk to him when he was reading.”

“That’s not so unusual. He was an English teacher.”

Caleb furrowed his brow. “It was more than that. He was always scribbling in it, taking notes, highlighting passages. I mean, the book wasn’t that thick. A guy like him could have finished it in a few days.” He gave me a curious look. “It was like he was studying it.”

“Maybe he wanted to incorporate it into the curriculum?” I said.

Caleb shook his head. “No way. Not in this town. The school board would never allow a book like that in the reading list.”

“What was the book?” I asked, although I had a pretty good idea what it was.

“Skull something or other.”

“
The Book of Skulls
?”

Caleb said, “That’s the one.”

The bookstore door chimed and I looked over to see Chance walk in, accompanied by Thor. Thor trotted over to me, a toy in his mouth.

Caleb scratched Thor’s ear. “Hey, big guy, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

He reached down to take the toy from the Great Dane’s mouth but Thor held on tight. The dog shook his head back and forth and the legs dangling from Thor’s jaw slapped his shoulders. There was a squeak followed by a yelp.

I looked closer at Thor.

In his mouth was another member of the Leanan Sidhe’s army. A troll, injured, but still alive.

“Good boy,” I said. Then I leaned in and told him to take our POW to the Geraghty House.

He trotted back to the door and a woman browsing the new releases let him out. When she turned, I caught her profile and recognized her as one of Birdie’s coven members. I nodded toward the gnome. She winked, walked over to the shelf, and discreetly collected the fallen soldier.

Chance walked up to me then, scooped me in his arms, and kissed me. “Did you lose a bet?” he asked, pointing to the coat.

Caleb said, “Lolly.”

Chance smiled. “Got it.”

He greeted his brother just as Blade Knight walked over to say hello. “Did you get everything you need for the article?”

“Yep, all good.”

He lowered his voice. “Can I speak with you a moment?”

Chance stepped in between Blade and me, put his hand on the author’s chest, and said, “Can it wait, Shakespeare? I haven’t seen my lady all day.”

He emphasized the word
my
and looked at Blade like he wanted to clock him.

I shot Caleb a look and he raised his eyebrows.

This was new. Chance had never shown signs of jealousy before. He was radiating so much heat, I thought his ears would start smoking any moment.

And it made me wonder. What if his mother was right?

Chapter 27

Blade gave Chance a steady look. “Sure. It can wait.” He nodded at me and said, “Hope to see you all at the cocktail party. Drinks are on me.”

This seemed to incense Chance even further. His jaw was so taut, it looked to be wired shut.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Caleb politely excused himself, but he hung close by, keeping an eye on his brother.

I decided that no good could come of discussing what just happened, so I changed the subject. “How was work?’

“Not bad. Bid on a couple of new jobs, and a project I thought we’d lost came through. Then I met with the reunion committee. Monique never showed, which was weird. She seemed all gung-ho about it yesterday.” He grabbed my hands. “I don’t want to talk about any of that, though. Let’s get out of here and you can tell me what you did today.”

“I can’t. I still have to discuss a few things with Derek and Gladys and I told Cin I’d meet her at the Opal.”

“Okay.” He looked disappointed. Then he glanced over to where Blade was signing books. “This might take a while. Want to go for a walk?”

“Sure.” I e-mailed Derek the file, shut down my laptop, and walked over to where Tony and Cinnamon were standing in line, waiting for Blade to sign their books. I asked Tony to hang on to my bag and told them I’d see them at the Black Opal. I let Gladys and Derek know too.

The temperature had dropped outside and I was almost glad Lolly had insisted on dressing me in this monstrosity of a coat.

Chance took my hand and we walked along Main Street, admiring the Halloween decorations. Some shop owners went the traditional route with carved pumpkins, plastic witches, and scarecrows flanking the entryways. Others were more macabre, arranging entire scenes in their storefront windows. We made a game out of guessing which movie or book had inspired the displays. There was a mannequin in a hockey mask, brandishing a knife, that had to be Jason from the
Halloween
movies. Another, in a dirty red and green sweater, with a charred face, was Freddy Krueger. There was a simple display of Poe surrounded by ravens, the distinctive mask used by the killer in the
Scream
movies, and beyond that, the hideous-looking puppet from the
Saw
movies perched on a tricycle.

We turned the corner and continued walking down a quiet street, the game over. “I was thinking it might be nice to have dinner with your parents tomorrow. I haven’t seen them in a while.”

Chance slid his eyes to me. “I don’t know if I can. I’m pretty swamped and they like to eat early.”

“Well, maybe I’ll stop over there at lunchtime. I’ll bring some sandwiches.” I studied his face, searching for a reaction. Did he not want me to talk to his mother? Was something going on with him?

Chance gave me an easy smile. “That would be nice. I think my mom would like that. She’s been acting nutty lately since my dad retired.”

Chance’s mother was a warm woman who made a killer lasagna and liked to crochet. She was a stay-at-home mom who loved her sons to the ends of the earth and always kept a teakettle on the stove. His dad was recently retired from the construction business that Chance was now the owner of, although he didn’t come by it easily. He’d been working with his father since the age of twelve and had saved every penny to buy the business from him. They were a typical Midwestern, middle-class family, and both parents taught their sons the value of a dollar and a woman.

“I would imagine he gets in her hair. She’s not used to having him around so much.”

Chance laughed. “Want to know a secret?”

A small twinge pinched my stomach at the word
secret
, for I knew many. When this was over, after the Leanan was banished and the murders solved, I vowed to tell him mine, Council be damned.

“Your dad’s taken up ballroom dancing?”

“Better. I’m pretty sure my mom breaks things around the house just so he has something to fix.”

“Clever woman.”

“The only kind I like.” He reached for my elbow. “Watch your step.” He brushed some broken glass out of the way with his foot.

As he did so, I felt a tingle dance up and down my spine and something hit the back of my coat and bounced to the ground. A tiny arrow.

I grabbed the corncob holders from my jacket pocket, whirled around, and fired at the puppet from the
Saw
display. He gave a slight cry and fell to the pavement. Two lithe hands reached out from the shadows and yanked him back by his ankles into a dark alley.

Chance was just kicking the rest of the glass out of the way when I pivoted back around. He offered me his arm and I took it.

We walked a little bit more in silence, listening to the crickets. Someone was making popcorn in an apartment above a shop and, farther down, the sounds of a piano drifted out into the street.

“We should probably head back,” I said.

Chance pulled me toward him tightly. He put both hands on my cheeks, looking at me with the intensity of a man just back from war. He sunk his lips into mine, and we kissed under a cloudy night sky.

His hands unbuttoned my coat and he slid them around me, pulling me closer still. “Not yet. I need you all to myself a little longer.”

I responded to his kisses enthusiastically, my heart beating faster, my breath coming in short gasps. Chance moaned and unbuttoned my pants. His hand slipped around, cupping my backside, and my pants almost fell to the ground.

I grabbed them with my left hand. “What are you doing?”

He grinned at me, his eyes dark, devilish. “Come on.” He glanced around. “No one’s looking,” he said in a husky voice.

“I don’t think so.”

I started to button my jeans, but he pulled me back to him by the waistband, turning with me until I was up against the wall. He kissed me again. Hotter, deeper, his tongue probing my mouth and I felt my arms circle his neck against my wishes. He stuck his hand up my shirt and cupped my breast, then yanked my pants down with the other hand.

The shock of the cold air brought me to my senses.

“Chance, stop it.”

I pulled my pants up and got them buttoned again.

He grabbed me one last time. “I need you, baby.” His eyes were unfocused, glassy.

That’s when I slapped him across the face. “I said no!”

Chance stepped back, confused. He rubbed his cheek where my handprint had formed.

Then he looked at me, completely horrified. “I, I…I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked and he took a step backwards. He stared down at his hands a moment as if they had betrayed him. As if he didn’t recognize them.

“Chance, it’s okay.”

He swallowed hard, ran his hands through his hair, and I thought I saw tears well up in his eyes. “No it’s not. I have to go.”

He turned.

“Wait! Chance, wait!”

I started toward him and he stopped, but he didn’t turn around. “I have to go, Stacy. Can you get back okay?”

We were only two blocks from the bookstore. “Yes.” This time it was my voice that cracked.

He nodded and disappeared around the corner.

Behind me, a voice said, “He’s been tainted.”

I whipped around to see the young witch from Birdie’s coven and the bookstore; she was carrying a sack that was kicking.

“No,” I said forcefully. “You’re wrong. He’s just under stress.” He couldn’t have been compromised. Monique was safe inside Birdie’s house.

Unless we were wrong. Unless the fairy mistress had found another host. But who?

I looked at the witch.

“He’s strong. He wouldn’t let it happen.”

She looked doubtful but she didn’t say anything. She just turned and took her sack of trolls with her.

I stood there, alone, on a dark street beneath a shallow moon, more determined than ever to find the bitch who had destroyed love for generations of Geraghtys and run her out of my town.

And if that didn’t work, I’d kill her.