Phoenix in My Fortune (A Monster Haven Story Book 6) (4 page)

Sniff. Flare. Sniff. Twitch. He sighed and dropped his hands to his lap. “Look. I can’t believe I’m even considering telling you this.” Sniff-flare. “I need to know I can trust you two. I want no police action taken. Promise me before I continue.”

That didn’t sit well with me. Whatever was going on, I wanted the local Oversight and General Rule Enforcement (O.G.R.E.) squad available as backup. The team was fairly new, but this time, I’d screened them all myself—and I hadn’t held back on using my empath powers to check them out—so I knew I could trust their honesty, if not their capabilities. The last squad had been run by a priest of the same cult we were hunting. That hadn’t gone well at all. But things were good now. Safe. Giving up that safety net for information I didn’t yet have was difficult.

I glanced at Riley, and he gave me an encouraging smile. Apparently, he had confidence either in the pastor’s forthcoming information or in his own ability to keep us safe. I didn’t feel anything hostile or sneaky from the elf, only his concern and fear for the wellbeing of those he was protecting.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll agree. No O.G.R.E. involvement.” I tilted my head and glared to show I meant business. “Provided our silence doesn’t put anyone else in danger.”

Lip twitch-sniff-sniff-flare. The guy had enough tics his face was almost like performance art. “After the regrettable events of four months ago, the lost souls who went astray came home. Not all at once, mind you, and I admit, one never returned. But the rest came to me, one by one and in groups, contrite, afraid and broken. I’ve been working closely with them ever since.”

I knew who hadn’t come back. Pansy, Maurice’s gargoyle ex-wife, had sort of been the ringleader at first, until we sat her down and had a long talk. “Your missing girl is safe,” I said. “She changed her tune and ran off with her bridge troll lover.”

He lifted his chin. “Ah. That explains it.” He shuffled some papers and tapped them against his desk to neaten the pile. “I’m afraid that’s really all I have for you. I apologize for the secrecy, but those people came to me for help. I couldn’t risk you bringing in the police and charging them for their past crimes. By church law, they are absolved and doing good works to make amends. I assure you, they’re not worshipping anything outside the tenets of this church, and they pose no threat to anyone.”

The finality of his tone was intriguing. He’d gone from mildly helpful to terrified, then moved straight into closed-off asshole in five minutes. He must’ve been exhausted. I know I would’ve been.

As one of the last two Aegises—the one with the badass reputation—I had a measure of authority that most Hidden recognized. As the leader of a church—regardless of how archaic and little-known the religion—Pastor Wendell had authority of his own. We were at a standoff.

I thrust my hand into my magical, brownie-made purse without looking and pulled out a scrap of paper and pen. Without breaking eye contact with the elf, I reached in again and wiggled an entire lap-desk—with cup-holder and folding legs—from the much smaller confines of my bag, set it across my legs and jotted my phone number across the paper.

The elf’s left eyebrow rose. Sniff. Flare. “Impressive. You have a bag of holding.”

I gave him my sweetest smile and slid the paper across his desk. It wasn’t the first time I’d pulled something outrageous out of my magic bag to impress someone. “It was a gift from a good friend. Will you call me if anything changes, please?”

While I whisked the lap-desk back into my bag, he stared at the number I’d given as if it were a chunk of gristle I’d already chewed. He recovered his neutral facial expression and offered me his business card.

“I’d appreciate the same courtesy, Miss Donovan. While I don’t believe this person you’re concerned about is the actual Last Hidden, I believe he’s trouble. I can’t keep my people safe if I don’t know what’s going on.”

I rose and extended my hand, which I was half surprised he shook.

“Pastor Wendell, I feel exactly the same.”

We made a quick retreat through the eerie, quiet church and out to the car. As I slid into the car, I peered up at the deceptively ramshackle building. A board slipped from the bell tower, revealing a watchful set of glowing eyes.

I smiled and waved, and the eyes disappeared.

“Subtle,” Riley said, pulling his door shut. “Did any of that in there seem weird to you?”

I clicked my seatbelt and started the car. “Very. And the one question that kept bugging me the most was the one I didn’t actually ask him, because it seemed rude at the time.”

“Who’s his tailor?”

I stuck out my tongue. “No. What exactly
are
the tenets of his church?”

Chapter Four

By the time we made it home, the sun had set, so Darius had changed form into a mothman, and he and Kam were at the beach looking for clues.

Mom had the TV on, a commercial for a local car dealership blaring. Sara sat curled on the couch with her laptop. Maurice was on his hands and knees next to a bucket of soapy water, yellow rubber gloves up to his elbows, scrubbing the baseboards with a sponge.

“What are you doing?” I dropped my keys on the table next to the door.

Three heads popped up, and three voices spoke at once.

“Watching a cooking show. I’ve always wanted to make my own mozzarella.”

“Searching the Internet for any missing children in the area, in case the beach wasn’t the first incident.”

“Honestly, Zoey, did you not clean at all while I was gone?”

I’d kind of meant the question specifically for Maurice, and he was the only one who didn’t answer me straight. I shrugged and stepped away from the doorway to let Riley in.

“They’re baseboards, Maurice. Most people never even notice them, and the few who do barely bother with them once or twice a year. You were only gone a few weeks.” I strode across the room, laughing, and bent to plant a loud kiss on his cheek, then turned to Sara. “Find anything interesting?”

“They’re thinking of doing a remake of
Saved by the Bell
.”

I scowled. “No.”

Sara smirked without looking up from her screen. “I don’t think they asked your permission.”

“They should.” I dropped onto the cushion next to her. “Anything else? Anything relevant?”

Riley’s voice—along with the sound of fridge rummaging—came from the kitchen. “I think a
Saved by the Bell
remake is relevant.”

I ignored him and peered at Sara’s screen. “You’re on Facebook. How is that research?”

“It’s not. I have to harvest my crops on Farmville.” She clicked on the link, and a large plot of cartoon land loaded.

I glanced around the room. It had been funny at first, but I was losing my sense of humor. “Seriously, guys. Shadow Man is here. Isn’t anybody alarmed by that fact? Nobody’s doing anything.” Exasperated, I folded my arms and glared at the entire room.

Sara chuckled and patted my leg. “Chill. Your mom’s got the TV on a local station. If anything new comes up, we’ll find out. I’ve already checked all the local websites for anything that might be Shadow Man related and came up empty. Yesterday was his first move. In the meantime, I’ve set up alerts for anything new.” She clicked on a cow, and her little Sara icon hustled over to milk it. “What did
you
find out?”

Riley wandered in chewing a cookie. “The pastor of the church has mood swings and a face full of bumblebees.”

I frowned, wondering where my cookie was. Riley grinned and handed me one.

I took a bite, letting the buttery goodness melt in my mouth before speaking. “We found out the cultists went back to the church and found safe haven there. We can’t touch them for their past crimes—I agreed to that—and he assures me they’re no longer associated with Shadow Man.”

Mom turned down the TV. “Do you believe him?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t feel any deception from him. Mostly he felt afraid. But I think it would be a good idea if we knew more about the church than we do. Can you check the books in the cottage tonight and see what you can find?”

I’d spent months scouring the books at the cottage for clues, but the books belonged to Mom. She and Aggie had always been better at finding useful information than I had. Mom had tried to help me before, but maybe it was time for her to take a look without my inept hands getting in the way.

On a previous visit, I’d managed to snag the diary of Marjorie Willenstock, a late 1800s Aegis girl who didn’t want the title. It was the only book I refused to return to the library. Marjorie hadn’t shared anything helpful about our present dilemma, but she felt like a friend to me now, despite being long dead. Her diary followed her journey from reluctant trainee to seasoned elder. I wished she were still alive so I could ask her what she thought about this whole mess. She’d lived nearly a hundred years. She probably would have had some fantastic advice.

She might have been able to find the perfect book to give us answers, too. But since she was long gone, maybe Mom could find something I’d missed.

“Good idea.” Mom stretched her arms and arched her back. “Beats the hell out of watching local television all night.”

For a moment, I thought she was going to head out right then, but she rearranged herself and settled deeper into her chair. Even though the path from my house to her cottage was protected by an enormous fairy ring, I wasn’t about to let Mom walk off into the woods on her own and stay by herself at the cottage. Especially with Shadow Man lurking around. Besides, Darius would flay me alive if he came back and I’d let her leave.

Plus, it would have been a blatant violation of one of the three rules we’d agreed to follow.

So. We’d split into three groups to gather information. Riley and I came back with a whole lot of unsubstantiated suspicions, and everyone at home found a big old pile of nothing. I hoped Kam and Darius were more successful in their search of the crime scene.

* * *

By the time Kam and Darius blew into the house, it was after two in the morning. We were all trying to stay awake by watching an infomercial about a fancy, proprietary hair-removal system that utilized a person’s body heat to cause a chemical reaction at the root, expelling the hair permanently.

Fun times at my house.

While Darius was in mothman mode, he didn’t have much of a face to speak of, but his eyes glowed red. When Kam was angry, her eyes filled with flames. Seeing them stride into my house, both with bright crimson eyes, I could almost believe that mothmen and djinn had some sort of common ancestor.

Even with my protective walls up—as they usually were at home—I felt my friends’ frustrated anger rolling off them like a bonfire.

I eased from my comfortable position curled against Riley and rose from the couch. “What happened?”

Kam took a deep breath, held it, then blew it out. “Bullshit happened.”

Darius nodded in agreement. “Bullshit.” He shifted his left shoulder, and the dusty wing on that side settled into place.

Mom made her way over to him and placed her hand in his. “Tell us what happened, sweetheart.”

At her touch, the glow in his eyes grew less sharp and piercing. “There isn’t much to tell.”

Kam flopped into the vacated chair. “We spent hours searching every inch of the beach and surrounding hills.”

Sara brushed her silver hair from her face. “I’m guessing you didn’t find anything.”

“Not a thing,” Kam said.

I frowned. “That doesn’t explain why you’re both so angry. Something happened.”

Kam kicked her shoes off and curled her legs under herself. “Not upset. Frustrated. Irritated. Out of nowhere, a bunch of cops show up, flashlights bobbing up and down the beach, yelling back and forth.”

Fear made a knot in my stomach. “They were after you?”

“They were after somebody else, but they damn near got me instead. If Darius hadn’t flown down and grabbed me, I’d have been right in their path.”

Maurice stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “So, who were they after in the middle of the night?”

“Not far from where Kam had been standing, they found a guy sleeping in the brush.”

“Human?” I held my breath, worried that a Hidden had been captured by humans. Or that the police had caught Shadow Man and were probably in danger.

“Yes,” Darius said. “Human. They’ve arrested him for the kidnapping of the six kids. We listened for a while and found out the man was recently released from prison, but they didn’t say what for. Even without proof of the kidnapping, sleeping on the beach is a violation of his parole, so they had reason enough to take him in.”

We were all silent while we thought about it. I knew Shadow Man was behind the kidnapping, as well as the setup of the homeless guy. “It couldn’t have been my imagination,” I said. “You guys saw him on the news, too, right?”

“Of course. We all saw it.” Sara opened the laptop and did a search for the photo we’d seen on television. She enlarged it to fit the screen and gasped.

“What?” I hurried over to look and gasped, too.

He was gone. There was no trace of Shadow Man on the cliff. It was as if he’d never been there at all.

* * *

The news broke early the next morning.

Oliver Hayes—previously incarcerated for smuggling exotic pets into the country—was in custody for the kidnapping of the six school children found in an eight-foot-deep hole two days earlier at Stinson Beach. Police detectives had followed an anonymous tip and found the man less than a quarter of a mile from the site of the kidnapping. The investigation was still underway, but Hayes had several items hidden in his pockets that likely belonged to the missing children. Including a handful of gingerbread crumbs.

I felt ill. “Why the hell would an exotic pet smuggler kidnap a bunch of kids? In what world do they think that makes sense?”

I knew it wasn’t true, but what proof did I have? I’d seen Shadow Man twice—once with my own eyes, and once in a photo that no longer showed his image. Which was ridiculous. How could he have disappeared from a photo?

He couldn’t. Unless he hadn’t been there in the first place. And how sure was I that I’d seen him standing at the end of my driveway, looking straight at me? He was gone by the time I turned my head toward him.

So, what if he hadn’t really been there? What if the thing I’d seen outside was a trick of the light brought on by my longing to have my friends come home? And as for the picture from the news, obviously, there was nothing there but shadows now. What if everyone else had seen it simply because I’d put it into their heads?

What if Shadow Man wasn’t real?

And what about the gingerbread smell? Hayes would have needed more than a handful of gingerbread to make the kids smell like they’d been smothered in it. Why would anyone do that? Then again, why would Shadow Man smell like gingerbread?

As the days moved on, more evidence piled up against Hayes. In the end, four of the six children identified him—even though at the time of the rescue they’d said they couldn’t remember anything about him. I wondered about those two kids who didn’t identify Hayes, but it wasn’t as if a strange woman off the street could waltz up to the families and ask to question the children.

Still, everyone involved was more than happy with the outcome, and Hayes was sent off to prison to await his trial. Neat and tidy. A little
too
neat and tidy, as far as I was concerned.

But I had no proof.

A week went by, and nothing more happened. Another week, and Kam, Maurice and Sara started to get antsy. I’d called them home for an emergency, and nothing was going on.

“Look,” Sara said, leaning against the railing on the front porch. “It’s not that we don’t believe you. If you saw him, you saw him. Hell, we
all
saw him in that picture. Or we thought we did, anyway.”

I cringed at the implication that we’d all imagined the image in the photo. “But you’re bored and you want to travel some more. I understand.”

She scooted onto the railing and let her bare feet swing free, the golden skin on her legs sparkling in the sunlight. “It’s not that. I’ll stay as long as you need me. I just think it’s been a few weeks and nothing more has happened. Time to get on with things.”

I looked up from my intense scrutiny of the dirt under my fingernails, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “What things, exactly?”

She grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” She hopped down and paced across the porch, ticking items off on her fingers. “Since we haven’t been working, I’m running low on funds. I need you to put my house on the market for me. Sell my car.”

She did have a point. I’d been living in limbo for months, waiting for something to happen while my savings account bled to death. I’d been avoiding thinking too hard about it because somehow I’d figured everything would go back to normal soon.

Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I’d been in denial that Sara’s demon form was permanent. My throat tightened, and my voice came out a little higher than usual. “You can’t do that. Hell, I can’t do that. You’d have to sign all the paperwork. I can’t do it for you. That’s illegal.”

Sara’s expression softened. “Honey, this is going to happen. It has to. You’ll be my representative, and for any paperwork that needs to be signed, we know an elf who’s a notary, so everything will be legal.” She took my hand, her face serious. “I have to let my old life go. I’m constantly getting phone calls from friends who want to get together for lunch. My mother wants to come to town for a visit. My neighbors call to ask if I’m coming to the neighborhood watch meeting next week. I can’t keep putting them all off. I have to put it all behind me. I need a fresh start.”

I clutched her hand as if it was a string and she was a balloon that might float away. “What will you tell your mother? You’re not going to fake your own death?” The thought made me frantic. I’d still see her, of course. She wouldn’t be dead to me, but the idea that the rest of the world would think she was dead...I couldn’t bear that.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Zo. I’m going to tell everyone the truth—I met a guy and we’re traveling the world.” She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe something will change in the meantime and I’ll be able to get my life back. But I’m not sitting around feeling sorry for myself while I wait.”

I still didn’t like it, but I could accept it. It was far better than having to stage a memorial service for my missing best friend. “Fine. I get it. What else is on your list?”

“We have to decide how to shut down the business permanently, since neither of us are doing much with it lately.” She stopped. “Oh. But first, we have one last wedding to do.”

“No, we don’t.” I gave her a look I hoped conveyed how crazy I thought she was. “We cleared the calendar. The elf/attic monster wedding was the last one.”

She resumed her pacing and waved a dismissive hand in my general direction. “I answered the call last week and decided to take the booking. It’s long distance, so the bride is letting us do the planning. We won’t see her until she flies in for the wedding.”