Be My Banshee (Purple Door Detective Agency Book 1) (2 page)

Sunshine started to argue. She didn’t like being told what to do. But she had always known Mr. Bad had an understanding of the world that she lacked. Whether it was magic, or some older force of nature, she had never witnessed his anger and never wished to.

“All right. I’ll take care of it. But I hope you’re ready to step in if she gets out of hand.”

“Treat her with the respect she is due and nothing will happen.”

The conversation was over. His slow creaking movement, turning away from her in his chair, was enough to tell her so. Sunshine left his office, walking through the waiting room of potential employees.

Who Mr. Bad was, and what his powers were, had never come up in conversation. He’d been good counsel to John in bad times and had helped ‘arrange’ certain matters that were outside their capabilities. He’d never confided in her or told her how he’d come to be there. John had refused to ask.

Now he believed the banshee should take John’s place at the agency. She swallowed hard, at least temporarily agreeing with his ideas on the situation.

“I’m sorry,” Sunshine told the crowd. “The position has been filled. If any of you are interested in hiring the agency to work for you, please stay behind, and I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

“Wait!” A man called out, struggling from his chair. “I can do amazing things! You should hire me.”

As she watched, the man stretched his arms toward the ceiling, grasping the chandelier, and swinging from one side of the room to the other. He lost his grip and dropped abruptly to the carpet, groaning and turning his head from side to side.

“Thank you so much. Leave your card. We’ll let you know the next time we’re hiring.”

Chapter Two

Sunshine was glad to see that Aine had finally sat in the purple chair. Jane had even convinced her to drink some tea. Did banshees eat? She was going to have to learn what she could about her new employee.

“That was Mr. Bad, another partner in the agency.” Sunshine explained about him as she gathered her energy. When she opened the drawer in her desk, there was a contract there. “He’s concerned about us looking for Mr. O’Neill. He’d like you to sign this contract basically saying that we aren’t responsible for any physical damage that’s done by you while you’re working for us.”

Aine put down the tea cup. She hadn’t tasted the flowery-smelling brew. She couldn’t remember the last time water had crossed her lips.

“I’ll not sign a thing. You do what you have to and find the remaining O’Neill.”

“I don’t think you understand how things work today.” Sunshine took a seat behind her desk but kept a vigilant eye on the other woman. “No one does anything without a contract. We barely eat or sleep without one. It’s the way of the world. Mr. Bad says we need you to sign this. I can’t do any magic until you do.”

Jane had been quietly waiting behind Aine. When she heard the blatant lie, she hurried from the room in case the banshee decided to screech. She’d never heard anything like it before—and never wanted to again. It had awakened all the primal fears she tried to hide every day as a human. As a mouse, her life had been filled with terrors. Just the closing of a door was enough to drive her into hiding.

Aine eyed the paper in front of her. She couldn’t read anything of the odd language on it. She didn’t understand what trickery the witch was attempting, but there was little the twit could do to her. She finally picked up the writing device that was put before her and signed her name.

As soon as it was on the contract, the paper immediately went up in flames and vanished in the air.

“What wizardry is this?” Aine asked her. “Don’t hope to best me in a battle of wits or power. That contract is as binding for you as it is for me.”

“I wish you’d learned to trust me.” Sunshine held her pretty eyes wide as her curls stirred around her face. “I swear I mean you no harm. I will help you find the man you’re looking for. There’s just a small matter of you helping me find my associate’s killer.”

“What?” Aine rose halfway from the chair, her bony hands on the desk, legs creaking under her weight. “I have agreed to nothing that will help you, witch. Do your craft. Find O’Neill.”

“You know, if we’re going to be friends, you should start by calling me Sunshine. Or Sunny. Some of my closest friends call me Sunny. But something about the way you say ‘witch’ sounds derogatory to me. You may not realize it, but witches have been persecuted in the past. We like to stay away from that kind of thing now.”

“Ye mean burned alive, don’t ye?” Aine chuckled, not a pleasant sound. “Yes. I know. I can understand why you’re so sensitive.”

Sunshine winced at her words. “I’m sure you wouldn’t like me to bring up past hurts that banshees have suffered—or dead Queens of Ulster.”

“What is it you want of me? I have made it plain what I require of you. Don’t play games with me, witch. You would find me a bad loser.”

“I think we’re talking at cross purposes here, Aine.” Sunshine smiled at her. “You have abilities that Mr. Bad seems to feel could be useful to our investigation into our associate’s death. We could help you negotiate the modern world to find your O’Neill so you can scream at him whenever you like. You help us. We help you. Is that clear?”

Aine stood up to her full height again, towering over the seemingly calm witch who didn’t so much as blink one of her perfectly made-up eyes. Her jaw dropped to unleash her keening wail. But nothing came out of her throat.

“What have you done?” Aine demanded.

“You signed over temporary rights for your ‘gift’ to the Purple Door Detective Agency until such time as we are both satisfied that our contract is complete.”

“Signed over?” Aine’s skeletal hand reached for Sunshine’s throat. “I shall throttle the life from your worthless body! Then I shall feed your contract to the mouse. You may control my keening, but you do not control me.”

Sunshine found that Aine’s words were true. She’d planned to get away so quickly that the she couldn’t catch her, but once the banshee’s hand had lodged around her neck, she couldn’t move. She tried several types of spells, but none worked on her opponent.

“We can still be friends,” she grated past the banshee’s grip. “We can go shopping and find you something to wear that didn’t come out of a grave.”

Aine pressed her advantage over the astonished witch and would have snapped her neck. But the room around them began to shake as a voice bellowed from Mr. Bad’s office.

“Enough!”

This was deep, older magic. She recognized the ancient feel of it. It had been many years since she’d known anything of its kind. The man in the other room that the witch called Mr. Bad was much more than her partner. Even though her entire being was caught up in needing to find O’Neill, she wondered who and what he really was. She might have to discover the answer for herself before she returned home.

Sunshine sat back in her chair, coughing delicately, her face pale and stunned as though unaccustomed to brute force. Aine stood back, waiting to see what the real power behind this place required of her.

“He wants us in there,” Sunshine croaked.

“Does he now?” Aine sneered, her distaste at being summoned obvious.

“Come this way.”

Sunshine walked across the outer office. Aine saw the small shapeshifter on the desk. To change shape and become a mouse seemed a waste of power to her. She had to wonder at the young woman’s family that had allowed such a thing.

Mr. Bad was still seated in his large chair behind the desk. Aine had barely a glimpse of him as the door opened and closed behind them and they were part of his dark world.

“I know this is not what you came for, Aine,” he said in a rumbling voice. “But you have my word that we will help you find the young man you seek.”

“You will not manipulate me in this manner,” Aine told him. “I am descended from the great kings. I came to you for help. All I have found is trickery by this puppet witch who serves you.”

“Don’t mistake me, Aine of Ulster. I know who you are and what crimes you have committed, which you have tried to erase through your service to the O’Neill family. I have need of you. Help us and find what you came for. Without us you will wither and die never fulfilling your obligations.”

Aine didn’t reply. She trembled in her fury at choosing this place to ask for assistance.

Yet something had brought her here when she couldn’t locate the last O’Neill of the bloodline. No doubt it was this dark man and his witch. The smell and feel of power was all around her. She’d been drawn here and now couldn’t leave until their bargain was met.

“It seems I have no choice, Dark Lord.” Aine inclined her head to show her respect for the powerful elder. “But mark me well—keep your witch leashed. I have no wish to hurt her, but I shall if she annoys me past what I can endure.”

“It seems we have an accord then, my lady.”

Aine and Sunshine left the dark office, closing the door behind them. They stared angrily at each other, appearing to size one another up as though expecting a battle. Their gazes narrowed and their hands became fists.

Jane laughed nervously, transformed into a woman again. “Awesome. Who could eat some pizza? I don’t know about you two, but I’m starved. We can go over the details of what needs to be done while we eat. What do you think?”

Her words broke their concentration. Sunshine glanced away from the banshee’s face.

“Of course. Why not?” She smiled at Jane and ignored Aine.

Aine went grudgingly with the witch and the mouse, not certain what to make of this new threat. Mr. Bad stayed in his office.

The pizzeria was a few doors down in another historic, renovated brick building close to the downtown office for the Norfolk Police Department. The smell of tomatoes and spices drew the lunchtime crowd like a come-hither spell.

“Maybe we should do something with those clothes first.” Sunshine stared at Aine. “We could hit the consignment shop before we eat. It’s only a block or two away.”

Jane carefully agreed, keeping her distance from the banshee. “This is buy one, get one free day too. She could probably use more than one outfit.”

“Bah!” Aine stepped away from Sunshine and Jane, off the busy sidewalk. “The two of you prattle like magpies. If there is a need, I can appear different at any time.”

Sunshine tilted her head. “Really? Please do. We know people here. I’m not sure how I’d explain bringing in a zombie to lunch.”

“Stand away. Allow me to allay your misgivings about my appearance.”

Aine shook herself from head to toe. Dust and dirt from the old castle fanned out around her and fell to the street.

“Why would she choose to look like that if she doesn’t have to?” Jane whispered in a trembling voice.

“There’s no accounting for taste,” Sunshine muttered as she watched the transformation. “Besides, she was hoping to scare us. I guess she found we weren’t scared so easy.”

“I think she was as terrified of Mr. Big as we are.”

“Hush now.” Sunshine cut her off. “Let’s see what she has.”

Aine’s appearance had changed to a more human form. Her face became fuller with pale flesh and green eyes. Her form slightly filled out the ankle-length black dress she wore, a black hood across her gray hair. Her feet were encased in rough leather sandals.

“Does this suit you?” she asked the other women.

“Not bad,” Sunshine said. “It needs a scarf or some jewelry, but it’ll do. Much better than the corpse. This way you almost look like a witch.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Aine said. “There has never been a witch on the throne of Ulster.”

“How do you know?” Sunshine wondered as they started walking toward the pizzeria again. “As I said, witches were persecuted in the past. They’d be unlikely to announce what they were as they ascended the throne.”

They went into the trendy restaurant and were seated by an older teenager popping her bubble gum as she guided them to a table. There was a crowd for lunch, as always. It was a mixture of business types in suits and casual wear with trendy shoppers and friends meeting for a meal. There was also a fair amount of police officers.

“Isn’t this awesome?” Sunshine asked Aine. She’d sat beside her in the booth while Jane shivered across from them. “I bet they didn’t have anything like this where you came from.”

Aine glanced around with disdain, her head held regally high as she took in the modern atmosphere. “Aye, they had nothing like this. There was a tavern where the hunt stopped that was frequented by the royals and their friends. The food was roasted boar, apples, cheese, and ale so good it made men weep.”

Sunshine picked up a menu and handed it to Aine. “No boar here, but the pizza with roasted peppers is to die for. You should try it, unless you don’t like spicy foods.”

“I don’t like spicy foods,” Jane whispered from behind her tall menu. “They give me a tummy ache.”

“Why does your shapeshifter turn into a mouse?” Aine asked. “Surely a valuable shapeshifter would turn into a wolf or a horse—something of power and strength.”

Sunshine tapped her purple and silver nails on the tabletop. “Where’s that waiter? I’m starving.”

“I don’t shapeshift into a mouse,” Jane explained. “I’m a mouse who shapeshifts into a woman.”

Aine glanced at Sunshine. “Is this true? Was it ye who cursed her this way?”

“It was an accident,” she mumbled, reading the fine print on the menu. “I’m not the kind of witch who normally does magic of that sort.”

“What kind are you?” Aine asked.

“The kind who tries to do good for people. That’s why I started the Purple Door Detective Agency. We solve problems for those of us outside society. It’s mostly for people like us who have been wronged by humans or others of our kind. We settle disputes, locate lost relatives, that kind of thing.”

As Sunshine continued outlining dozens of cases that had come to them in the past five years that the agency had been open, Aine felt a burning sensation in her head. Something was amiss. She hadn’t felt that ache for so long. She almost mistook it for illness.

But it was the mark of the family she served. An O’Neill of the bloodline was close. She tried to sharpen the feeling, knowing it would lead her to him. She already knew there was only one heir—a male. He had not taken a family nor had children as yet. He was quite young himself, and alone. His affections were still free from any female who might truly engage them.