Obsidian Curse (A Stacy Justice Mystery Book Five) Page 4

  I squeezed my eyes shut and smacked a palm to my head. Stacy, you idiot!

  When I gathered up the courage to assess the damage, the Escalade seemed to be relatively intact and no one appeared to be injured, but my new Fiat looked like a crushed-up beer can. I had purchased it with the bonus money I received from the Council on completing my last mission. Special ordered to have the backseats removed so that Thor could ride comfortably.

  At twenty-nine, it was the first new car I had ever owned. Now, it wouldn’t even serve as a key chain. My stomach felt woozy and I swayed, biting back a tear.

  A man who would have been a shoo-in for a Vampire Diaries casting call hopped out of the Cadillac. “Jesus, are you all right?” He looked at the Fiat—my first big purchase ever—and ran his fingers through his hair. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. It was new,” I said, my voice cracking, eyes on my tiny tin box.

  The man looked at the crumpled car and scowled at me. “What the hell were you thinking? Stopping in the middle of the road like that? I could have hit you.”

  How to explain this? I saw a fairy traipsing through the garden across the street and since I had only ever seen him in a magical world that lies parallel to this one, I thought it best to investigate the situation immediately, lest there be some impending doom that would lead to total carnage of all life as we knew it.

  That would have been the truth, of course, but I couldn’t very well tell a perfect stranger that. “I thought I saw a bunny.”

  He looked at me as if he was certain there was a bottle of Prozac with my name on it and it was still full.

  “A bunny?”

  I shrugged. “I like bunnies. Didn’t want to hit the little guy.”

  He crossed his arms, studied me a moment, and I shifted my stance. “But why would you get out of the car?”

  Good question. I hadn’t really thought through the whole bunny thing. Really wishing at that moment I had said “missing child” or something equally as urgent. Good Goddess, Stacy, you have to start thinking on your feet.

  I glanced toward the mum garden. Pickle was gone. Naturally.

  “I volunteer at a rabbit sanctuary. So, um, you see, a bunny can be very vulnerable at this time of year. Coyotes, you know. And, um…”

  He waited as I searched for an explanation that would make some sort of rational sense.

  “I didn’t see the mother, so I figured it needed help. I was going to crate it and take it to the rescue. You know, to nurse it.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, clearly not buying a fricking word of the phantom bunny story.

  “Nurse it?”

  “Well, not personally.” I flicked my eyes to his car. It looked like a brand-new model. It was practically painted with dollar signs.

  “Right,” he said in a deep tone.

  I sighed. “Look, my cousin-in-law runs an auto body shop.” I reached into the mangled monstrosity that was my car and grabbed my bag. “It was my fault for stopping in the middle of the road like that. I’ll pay for the damages. I planned to take up cycling again anyway.” I whipped out my wallet and pulled out Tony’s card. My number was already printed on the back because, well, this was not the first wreck I’d had this year.

  “My number’s on the back.”

  “Of course it is.”

  I ignored that, flipped out my cell phone, called Tony, and told him I was sending him a customer and to get a tow truck over to Crescent Street.

  The man’s phone chimed then. He pulled it out, checked something, and said, “Look, I’m late for a meeting and there’s not much damage to my car. You don’t have to pay for anything. I should have been able to stop in time.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Biking on icy roads with monster hills was no fun. Plus, there wasn’t a basket big enough to hold Thor.

  He glanced over at my Fiat. Winced. “Thanks for this.” He waved the card and headed for his vehicle.

  “Wait, are you sure you don’t want my insurance information or something?”

  The man hopped inside his vehicle just as Leo, the chief of police of Amethyst, was motoring up the hill.

  The man glanced back at the police cruiser. “No, it’s fine. The damage is minor.”

  He fired up the engine as Leo rolled to a stop.

  I called, “Well, don’t you want my name?”

  He stuck his handsome head out the window as he drove by. “I already know it, Stacy.”

  I stood there, mouth agape, as the SUV crested the hill.

  Chapter 6

  I remained in the street, wondering who on earth that man was and how he knew my name, as Leo hopped out of the cruiser. He took one look at the heap of red metal, another look at me, and said, “Do I want to know?”

  “Probably not.”

  “You okay?”

  His concern for me was still there in his hazel eyes, although we had been broken up for some months. When you’re the Seeker of Justice working for a secret society of witches, dating a man with a badge can have serious drawbacks. They tend to get upset when you break the law, stumble upon various dead bodies, get yourself shot at, and talk to dead people. Leo was no exception. Our relationship didn’t end badly, it just ended. It wasn’t long after that when Chance and I rekindled the relationship we had begun all those years ago.

  “Did you call Tony?”

  “Yep.”

  Leo nodded, his strong jawline twitching as if he had something to say, but his lips couldn’t quite form the words. His skin was perpetually tanned thanks to his Mediterranean parents, and he filled out a uniform better than Batman.

  “Need a lift?”

  I looked at what remained of the car, wondering how much I could get for the scrap metal, and kicking myself that I had been so incredibly careless. “Sure. Why not?”

  Leo mentioned on the way back to the office that he would be attending the high school reunion.

  “But you didn’t graduate from our school.”

  He glanced at me, blew a thick, black lock of hair from his forehead. “I’ll be there in an unofficial official capacity.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’ll be wearing my holster under my costume.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That seems unnecessary, don’t you think? It’s just a class reunion.”

  “One room filled with half the town and all your family. Sure. What could possibly go wrong?” he said sarcastically.

  Leo was still getting used to our quirky town and its even quirkier residents. And, truth be told, Birdie and the aunts scared the bejeezus out of him.

  “Good point.”

  I thanked him for the ride, sent out a silent wish that he’d find someone someday, and hopped out of the car. As he drove away, I couldn’t help but notice the look of wistfulness on his face.

  I settled back into my office, where I checked my e-mail and found a few notes Gladys had sent me on some of the valedictorians. I printed them out and scanned through the pages. There were doctors and lawyers, some homemakers, an archeologist, a fashion designer, a scientist, and one author. I jotted down notes and brainstormed some story angles before I shoved everything inside a manila folder.

  I grabbed the yogurt I had tucked inside the fridge earlier and ate that as I contemplated the conversation I was going to have with Chance tonight. In my mind’s eye, it went something like this:

  Me: Why didn’t you tell me you were meeting with Monique today?

  Chance (looking completely baffled): I’m sorry, sweetie, I thought I did.

  Me (relieved and totally calm): Oh. Well, maybe you did and it slipped my mind.

  Chance (rubbing my shoulders): What do you say I cook us up a nice dinner, and afterwards we’ll snuggle on the couch and watch The Notebook while I massage your feet?

  Me (looking stunning
in candlelight): That sounds wonderful.

  The end.

  My daydream was interrupted by a knock on the door. I tossed the empty yogurt carton in the trash can and went to answer it.

  Derek was standing there holding a manila envelope. “Here’s the contract.”

  I gave him a disappointed look and walked over to my desk. I tossed Monique’s contract on top of the folder I had started for the reunion piece.

  There was a second knock on my already-open door. I turned to see the man with the Escalade standing there.

  “So, this is where the magic happens.” He waltzed himself into my office and looked around the room. His sea-blue eyes were greedily drinking in every inch of my workspace. The walls, the computer, the photographs, everything. As if he was painting a mental picture.

  I felt my heart skip a beat and my face grow pale. Who was this guy? Had he been sent by the Council? Was he a new member of the four corners? But why would he come here? Why wouldn’t he have just told me that on the street?

  The four corners consisted of myself, the Seeker; John, the Guardian; Ivy, the Warrior; and the Mage, who happened to be my grandmother, Birdie. Some quests, like the last one in Ireland, required all of our services.

  “What are you talking about? There’s no magic here,” I said in a voice that sounded like a squeak toy.

  Derek shot me a funny look. “Well, we haven’t won a Pulitzer, but I think we put out a good little paper.” He smiled, his white teeth contrasting beautifully with his dark skin.

  The man walked over to the far wall and touched the new sword Birdie had given me to adorn my office. He shifted and I couldn’t help but notice even his clothes reeked of wealth. His sports jacket was perfectly tailored, his shoes polished, his white shirt crisp, and his hair was definitely not courtesy of Cost Cutters.

  “Interesting piece.” He spoke clearly, enunciating each word as if he were savoring it like other people savored cake.

  The man with the wavy chestnut hair plucked the shiny sword off the wall by the handle that featured the Morrigan, and a tiny yelp escaped my throat. I couldn’t have strangers touching my magical tools. It left me exposed to attacks, both psychic and physical.

  Plus it was rude. And rude people pissed me off.

  I lunged forward to snatch the sword from his large hands, but Derek yanked me by the collar and I sprung back like a yo-yo. He hissed in my ear, “What’s wrong with you, woman?”

  Before I could answer, the man read the inscription aloud. “Between Destiny and Duty lies Faith. I’m so happy you found yours. Love, Birdie.”

  I swallowed hard. I couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but this guy made me incredibly uncomfortable, and the fact that he had his hands all over my sword tainted it. I would have to consecrate it again for it to be of any use to me magically. Although the tip was still pointy, and if he didn’t stop manhandling my belongings, I might have to test its functionality on his perfectly pressed blue jeans.

  “Who’s Birdie?” he asked, cocking his head toward me as if he already knew the answer. As if he had a lot of answers wandering around that smug head of his.

  I was beginning to feel vulnerable. And I had sworn I would never feel vulnerable again.

  I ignored his question and found my voice. “I already told you I would pay for your damages. Now please take your hands off my office décor before I find a better place to stick it.”

  Derek pinched my arm.

  “Ouch,” I yelped.

  “Stacy, I’d like to introduce you to Blade Knight.” Derek’s voice was layered with a twinge of annoyance.

  Blade Knight extended his hand. I didn’t take it at first, but Derek shoved me forward.

  I shot a glare back at Derek, then faced Knight. “Forgive me for saying so, Mr. Knight, but that’s the fakest sounding name I’ve heard outside of a Marvel Comics book.”

  “Stacy!” Derek said.

  I braced myself before I shook the man’s hand, anticipating an image, a message, or a feeling. It was warm and cold at the same time. Strong. Almost too strong. I held it until I got the message I was seeking and then I abruptly dropped it.

  Blade Knight held his gaze on me. His eyes seemed to penetrate my very soul. One corner of his mouth curled up into a sly smile. “She’s right, actually. My editor thought I needed something a bit more…” He searched for the right word. “Dangerous.” His face told me he liked danger. Lived for it, in fact.

  I lived to fight it.

  “Your editor?” I didn’t like this. Not one bit.

  Derek smiled wide. “Blade is a crime writer. He’s here to do some research on a story.”

  “Research? What kind of research?”

  Because I swear, if he’d said witches, I would have had to slip him some hemlock and put him on a cruise to Alaska.

  Blade Knight looked at me and smiled as if he’d just been granted the key to the Emerald City. “Most of my novels are set in Chicago, but I wanted to set a story in a small town. This seemed like the perfect place.”

  A tiny wave of relief flooded me. “So you write fiction? Thrillers? Murder mysteries? That sort of thing?”

  “That’s right. I’ve been spending some time exploring and chatting with the locals.” He walked his eyes up and down my body and I suddenly felt the need for a turtleneck. “They have lots of interesting tales to tell.”

  This guy was too put together, too classy, and too arrogant for Amethyst. My worry began to slip away, because the more he talked to the locals, the faster he would want to hightail it out of Dodge. “Well, don’t believe everything you hear. People tend to exaggerate in small towns when the biggest news of the week is who won the pie-eating contest at St. Mary’s and who got hammered at the Elks Club.” I motioned to escort him out of my office, far, far away from me, but he didn’t budge.

  “Actually, Stacy, Blade was thinking of switching directions this time,” Derek interjected, completely oblivious to my obvious unease.

  Damn. I knew it couldn’t be that easy. There was always a catch. See, the Universe and I have this little game we like to play. I preferred to get through the day without getting blown up, kidnapped, or set on fire, and It preferred that, at the very least, I spill hot coffee on my lap and crash my car just for giggles. I was like Mother Nature’s personal jester.

  “Oh?” I felt a tingle dance up and down my spine, confirming the message I had picked up earlier when I shook Blade’s hand. I used to ignore signs like those, but now I searched for them. The more signals I received, both internal and external, the better prepared I was for anything. Or anyone.

  Blade smiled wide. I was sure other women found that smile charming. To me, he looked like a tiger moving in for a kill. He paused before he pounced. “You know, I’ve learned so much since I’ve been here and I was so intrigued with the people I’ve spoken with that I decided to write a nonfiction book. True crime, if you will. With a touch of mysticism.”

  I flicked my eyes to Derek, who stood there grinning like an idiot.

  I hurried to stop that thought train before it left the station. “I see. Well, I’m sure you might dig up a story or two in the archives of the library, but I doubt you could fill a whole book with them. Derek would be happy to escort you there.” I couldn’t have this man digging into my past, into my family, into all that I’d been sworn to protect. Not now, not when I’d come so far.

  Derek said, “He’s not here to talk to me, Stacy.”

  I suddenly wished I had insisted Chance install a trapdoor in my office while I was gone.

  No one spoke, so I asked the question, despite knowing the answer. “So then, who are you here to see?”

  “You, Stacy Justice.”

  Of course you are, I thought, just as a busy spider spun a web over the threshold to my office.

  Which was the third confirmation of my suspicions.r />
  There was an uninvited guest in our midst.

  Chapter 7

  I walked over to the door, put my hand on the handle, and said, “Would you excuse us, please, Mr. Knight?”

  I tried to smile politely but my mouth wasn’t cooperating. I probably looked like I was constipated.

  “Call me Blade, please.”

  Ugh. What a stupid name. “Would you excuse us, Blade?” I repeated when he didn’t take a step toward me.

  “Certainly.” He flashed Derek the winning smile of an expert poker player holding a full house and sauntered out the door.

  Derek smiled back. Until I shut the door. Then his face deflated like a punctured balloon.

  “Derek, I don’t like this man. I don’t like what he’s implying.” I glanced back toward the spot that Blade Knight had just occupied. I could still see his dark blue jeans through the glass pane.

  “What are you talking about? The man’s a bestselling author. This book could ignite a ton of revenue for the town. Tourists eat that stuff up. It would be good for all of us.” Derek crossed his arms. “What’s really going on?” He eyed me suspiciously.

  I licked my lips. Derek and I had a unique partnership in that he pretended I wasn’t a maniac magnet with a smart-ass mouth and I pretended he wasn’t a cocky pinhead who consulted his crotch whenever he made a decision. It worked out well for both of us, although Derek was fully aware that there was more to me and my heritage than I had ever told him. Thankfully, his voodoo priestess aunt left him with a fear of anything supernatural so he didn’t ask a lot of detailed questions and I certainly didn’t offer any answers.

  “Nothing. I just think he’s here to make us look foolish. Small-town idiots and their small-town crimes. You know what I’m talking about.” I spread my arms out like I was highlighting a headline. “Come to Hicksville, USA, see all the freaks.”

  “First of all, this place has had more murders than a prison riot. And second—”

  I rushed to interrupt him. “I mean, what was that crack about mysticism?” What was that crack about? How much did Blade Knight know about our town? More importantly, what did he know about my family, and why did he want to interview me?