Be My Banshee (Purple Door Detective Agency Book 1) (3 page)

Once she’d tuned out the constant chattering of her companions, it became clear that he was there in the eating hostelry. He was among the close crowd seated and enjoying the strange food she smelled.

“Hi there!” The waitress greeted them. “Did you notice the specials at the door when you came in? No? Well, let me spell them out for you. We have a slice of deep dish cheese and pepperoni. That’s served with a small salad. We have breadstick pizza. And we have pizza soup which may not sound appetizing, but trust me, it’s really yummy.”

Aine stood rapidly. “Stop speaking. You are disturbing my concentration. Why must you all blather constantly? Is this what the future holds?”

The waitress with the slice of pizza fascinator on her pink hair stared without speaking, a look of horror on her face, despite the more human aspect of Aine’s appearance.

“We’ll all have the breadstick pizza.” Sunshine rapidly made the executive decision. “Three sweet teas with that, plenty of ice.”

The waitress finally blinked and put the order into the tablet she held. “Thanks. We’ll have that ready in a jiffy.” She wasted no time moving away from their table.

“Sit down, Aine,” Sunshine hissed, hoping no one was watching. “Your blood sugar is probably low after your trip from Ireland. Do banshees fly? I can’t remember from the mythology. You know, you might be the only banshee left.”

Aine didn’t sit down. She left the table as though drawn beyond her will to discover the O’Neill she had sensed.

“What’s she doing?” Jane whispered to her boss. “Is she going to scream again?”

“No.” Sunshine got up. “Not on my watch. Wait here.”

Chapter Three

Aine was walking slowly past the restaurant’s patrons, staring into each face. She had already gone by several tables where the people stared back with looks of surprise.

“You can’t do this here,” Sunshine told her. “This isn’t your boar-eating century. And some of these people could be clients in the future. You know what those are, right?”

“Silence, witch.” Aine sniffed a man in a gray business suit. “The last O’Neill is here now. I knew he was close. I have no need of further assistance from you. I must only identify him and make it known who I am.”

The assistant manager approached them. He was a young man with curly, red hair who played with his pizza tie as he spoke. “I’m sorry ladies, but could you please take your seats? You’re making the other customers uncomfortable.”

“We were looking for the restroom.” Sunshine smiled at him. “Maybe you could find it for us.” She muttered a spell to forget under her breath.

“Of course. Thank you.” He smiled and walked away.

Aine put her hand on a man’s balding head and turned him to face her. “You are not the man I seek.”

He breathed easier that it was true and moved closer to his companion.

“You’re making a spectacle of yourself,” Sunshine told her. “I can find this O’Neill person much easier than this. Just give me some idea what he looks like. I’ll have him come to us.”

Already angry that she was having such a difficult time identifying the man she must serve, Aine turned on the witch. “Leave me be. Do you not think if I knew him I would go to him? I can yet find him without your help. I have agreed to work with you, but you sorely try my patience.”

“I’ll leave you alone as soon as you sit down and eat your pizza.”

Aine raised her hands and opened her mouth.

“No. We aren’t doing that except as the agency needs you, remember?”

But at that moment, Aine’s unfailing sense located the O’Neill heir. He was seated across from a beautiful woman with black hair, creamy white skin, and eyes the color of the summer sky. He was sharing pizza soup with her.

She pushed Sunshine aside and ran to him, dropping on one knee beside his table, her head inclined with respect. “O’Neill. I find you at long last. We are united now. You need not fear your death.”

Sean Patrick O’Neill barely glanced away from his girlfriend’s face. “Thanks. Could you bring the extra salad back with you?”

“She’s in training,” Sunshine told him. “Excuse us.”

“You do not recognize me,” Aine continued, refusing to give up her quest. “I was under an enchantment for these past two hundred years and more. Your family—your home—has fallen into ruin. But as the last of the O’Neill bloodline, I am your
beane sidhe
. I shall haunt you to your grave and then guide you to the underworld. Have no fear. I am at your side.”

Sean O’Neill, the last of a noble line that he was completely unaware of, was a handsome young man in his early thirties. His slightly curly brown hair had gold highlights, and his blue eyes viewed the situation with equanimity. His gray suit wasn’t expensive, but he wore it well on a tall, lean body with broad shoulders. His mouth had smile lines, indicating his good humor.

Sunshine played to his easy smile. “This is all a mix-up,” she told him. “My friend is trying out for a part in a play. She thought you were the director. It could happen to anyone, right?”

Aine finally surveyed him. “I see your great-great-grandfather’s look about you. Yer a handsome rogue just like him.”

He laughed. “If it was up to me, I’d give her the part. She’s totally believable.”

“Hear that, Aine?” Sunshine smiled and tried to draw her to her feet. “He says you’re good. Let’s see if we can find the real director, huh? We’ll let these nice people get on with their lunches.”

Sean smiled at Aine. “Brava! You’re a wonderful actress. I hope to see you in a movie one day.”

“Why can’t you see who I am?” she asked him in an anguished tone. “You should immediately recognize me as I have known you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Have we met before?”

“You know these women, Sean?” His companion was beginning to sound neglected and suspicious.

“No, Elena. I’ve never seen either of them before.”

“That’s okay.” Sunshine left him a business card. “We’re leaving now, right, Aine?”

Devastated and unsure what to do, Aine went quietly with her. Had the same enchantment that had made her sleep for so long robbed him of his memory too? He should have instinctively known who she was, even if his forebear hadn’t told him.

When they got back to their table, Sunshine asked the waitress to wrap everything up, and they’d take it with them. “We’re not quite ready to be in public,” she told Jane.

“That’s okay. I like to eat at home better anyway.”

Aine went with them without raising a word of protest, but outside as they walked back to the office, her appearance changed back to that of the bony gray hag. Jane scooted away from her to walk on the other side of Sunshine.

Glad to be off the street and out of the public eye, Sunshine collapsed in her purple office chair as they got back to the detective agency. Jane scurried to divide the pizza three ways. What was Mr. Bad thinking wanting to add Aine to their employee roster?

Yes, she was powerful—probably more than Sunshine realized. But she was also disturbed and obviously had no idea how to act in society. It had taken them years to be accepted in this community. Aine might blow it all for them.

But she didn’t ask him. Instead she sat at her desk and ate her pizza sticks. Aine sat across from her, staring out the window. It was incredibly unnerving for the witch, though she wouldn’t have admitted it. Those empty eye sockets and grotesque face weren’t something anyone would want to see as they ate.

Sunshine knew she was going to have to take control of the situation. If Mr. Bad wanted the banshee there, he had a good reason. She’d learned not to second guess the rare times he’d had something to say to John. She was going to have to figure out what to do with Aine.

“Are you sure you don’t want some of this?” she asked for the third time. There was no response from the banshee. “If not, maybe we should just go ahead and get down to work finding John’s killer.”

Aine didn’t speak or glance her way. Sunshine pulled out John’s file. Looking at the photos of him—alive and dead—made something inside her feel dead too.

“You had feelings for the wolf.” Aine’s voice was like rustling leaves.

“Yes.” Sunshine cleared her throat and fought to control her emotions. There was no chance for the vengeance she was seeking if she took the time to mourn him now. First the killer and then the tears. “But they won’t get in the way.”

Finally Aine turned dead eyes to her. “How do you hold back emotions? How do you force yourself not to cry?”

At first Sunshine thought the banshee was making fun of her. She bristled. But before she could lash out at the hag, Sunshine saw a tear slide down the bony gray face. She meant it. Aine was suffering because her O’Neill wouldn’t acknowledge her. She might not be up on all the banshee folklore she needed to work with one of them, but she knew what another soul in pain looked like.

“I loved John with all my heart. I wanted us to be together forever. Now that he’s been taken from me, all I can think about is killing whoever took him. I won’t let myself fall apart until that’s done. That’s how I do it—because I have to. It’s the last thing I can do for him. Nothing is going to stop me.”

The softer, human change came over Aine again. Her fierce, green eyes stared back into Sunshine’s suffering gaze. “I understand. This was done to me as well. Sean O’Neill has had his birthright stripped from him. You are right, witch. Nothing else matters until I find out who is responsible and make O’Neill realize who he is and who I am.”

“I’ll help you with that,” Sunshine quickly said. “But I need your help to find John’s killer too. Can we agree to that—without the contract?”

“Will he allow it?” Aine jerked her head toward the open door to indicate Mr. Bad.

“I run the business. It’s unusual for him to say anything about it.” Sunshine smiled. “I really think he just wanted to make sure that you stayed.”

“He is a wise and powerful man.” Aine considered the agreement that she had been tricked into. “I can agree to help you if you help me.”

“Great!” Sunshine was happy to hear it. “Only one more thing—please call me Sunshine or Sunny or anything but witch. Okay?”

“I shall not call you witch again, though I find it difficult to imagine your mother and father naming you Sunshine.”

“That’s a whole other story. I was thinking we could go to the place where John was killed and see if you get any impressions from it. His death was heavily covered by magic that distracts my own. I know you can follow magic as well as blood. Maybe you can get something there that I couldn’t.”

Aine was amazed that Sunshine knew about the
beane sidhe
. “How came you to such knowledge, witch—Sunshine? My apologies.”

“That’s okay. I appreciate the effort.” Sunshine got up from her desk and grabbed her handbag. “Actually, there’s quite a lot of information about banshees if you know where to look. You have to stay away from the gaming information. Those people are looking for the kind of banshees they need to win.”

“Gaming
beane sidhe
?” Aine followed her out of the office. “These are
beane sidhe
who do penance for their crimes by playing games with the families they serve?”

“Not exactly. I’ll explain in the car.” Sunshine smiled at Jane, who was licking her hands clean of pizza. “Not in public, please. Take messages if anyone calls or stops by. Stay out of the cereal. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“Sure.” Jane put her hands in her pockets.

“Car?” Aine asked.

“A carriage without horses,” Sunshine explained as they walked into the parking lot that was shaded by dozens of mimosa trees. “It travels very fast, although probably not as fast as you can fly.”

“I see.” Aine smoothed her hand over the purple convertible as Sunshine opened the doors. “And you do not fly?”

Sunshine laughed. “I’ve been known to hike up my skirts on a broomstick or two in my time. But mostly I like my car, and it takes too much energy to fly. Get in.”

Aine hesitantly got in the car and closed the door behind her. Sunshine started the loud engine that surprised her with its ferocity. No horses—except those from hell—would ever make such sounds.

“Buckle up,” Sunshine advised as she held out the seatbelt. “And don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

She urged the car forward and out of the parking lot into the street. They got stuck in traffic once, but mostly the roads were clear to the mall where John had been killed.

“I would enjoy owning one of these devices.” Aine had a smile on her face. “It goes quite fast. No wonder you discarded the horses. Are all these other cars the same or only yours? Is it magic?”

“Nothing magic about this. Just good old fashioned know-how from Henry Ford.” She parked beside two large, blue dumpsters at the back of the mall.

“This is where your lover was killed.” Aine’s voice was deep and serious.

“Yes.” Sunshine got out of the car and stood next to a large bloodstain on the pavement. The dumpster was covered in blood spatter. “John was a powerful werewolf. He knew what he was doing. Yet someone managed to catch him off-guard while he was a wolf. He was ripped to pieces, nearly shredded. I found him here, still in his wolf state, despite his death.”

Aine crouched close to the blacktop and touched her finger to the dried blood. She inhaled of it deeply and then stuck it in her mouth.

Sunshine looked away before she gagged. She hadn’t expected something so visceral from the banshee. She really needed to look up more information about her.

“Yes,” Aine said. “There was definitely magic covering this death. Whoever killed him was a strong, fast predator. Probably not one of your breed.”

“You mean not a witch,” Sunshine said when she could control herself. “What then? There aren’t many creatures that can destroy a werewolf that way.”

“Perhaps another wolf.”

“I thought of that. Do you smell anything of another wolf here? I tried a spell that should have shown me if a wolf killed John. There was nothing.”

Aine’s jaws creaked as they moved while she rolled the taste of blood around in her mouth. “I cannot say—which is odd. Is there anything else I should see while we’re here?”