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“Oh, he’s telling the truth about his name and the fact that he’s an FBH. But there’s a lot hidden behind that thicket of fur he calls a beard. I don’t pick up any strong demonic aura, but anybody who’s raising the dead and creating ghouls has to be doing something shady.”
“Great, just one more thing to concern ourselves with. I’m losing track all over the place of what the hell we’re—oh that’s right. Kitten, call Tim and check on Harish?” I frowned, trying to remember what we’d been talking about before the wards had interrupted us.
Camille poured herself a glass of wine, then searched out a package of Oreos. She settled in at the table while Delilah picked up the phone.
“Hey Jason, is Tim there?” Kitten leaned against the wall as she talked. Athletic, Delilah was tall—an inch over six feet. Her shoulder-length blonde shag was starting to grow out. After a moment of silence, Tim must have come on the line, because she said, “Listen, I know you’re up to your ears with wedding plans, but can you run a quick check for me off the Supe Community files? I don’t have the full roll call on my computer, and we need to find out if there’s an elf from OW registered. His first name is Harish; I don’t know his surname. Yes, that’s right . . . H-a-r-i-s-h . . . Thanks, call me when you find out.”
As she hung up, I asked, “So when are Tim and Jason getting married? I know we got an invitation the other day, but I forgot to look at it.”
Camille crossed to the bulletin board where we kept notes and messages and removed a creamy-colored envelope from the pushpin that had been holding it there. She handed it to me. I opened the flap and slid out the thick, textured paper. Beautiful work, I thought. The paper had to be handmade. As I opened the invitation, a rich calligraphy announced:
Mr. & Mrs. Simon and Virginia Winthrop cordially request the pleasure of your company at the wedding of their son, Timothy Vincent Winthrop, to Jason Alfonso Binds, son of Mrs. Petti-Anne Binds.
We would love for you to join us at Woodbriar Park on the 19th day of June at 9:30 P.M., as Timothy and Jason pledge their lasting love and commitment under the stars. The Reverend Monica Trent, a pastor from the United Worlds Church, will be presiding. Reception and late-night buffet in the park to follow.
Attire: Semiformal
Gifts: In lieu of gifts, the couple is asking that you make donations to the Harvest of Gold Food Bank.
A handwritten note had been included, indicating that the invitation extended to Camille’s husbands, Chase, and guests, should Iris and I choose to attend with dates.
“Are we all going? What about Iris?” I smiled softly. Tim and Jason had been together for several years. They had a solid relationship, and it was nice to see them formalizing it. A part of me loved the ritual and pageantry of weddings.
“Of course we’re going. I asked Roz to watch Maggie that night, and he agreed.” Camille grinned at her.
I blinked. “Roz? Rozurial is back?”
An incubus, Rozurial had been helping us for some time against the demon menace. He was a mercenary, a bounty hunter, totally unethical when it came to women, and just about as gorgeous as you could ever hope to want in a man. He was also a good friend. We’d made out a little, but I hadn’t let it go any further than that. So far. About three weeks back, Queen Asteria had called Roz back to Elqaneve—the elfin city—for some brief mission she wanted him to complete.
“Yeah. He showed up last night.” Delilah frowned.
My mood lightened, and I realized just how much I’d missed Roz’s irreverent nature. The phone rang, and I reached for the receiver. “Probably Tim,” I said. But it wasn’t. It was Chase. “Listen, I have some news about the Clockwork Club and Claudette. But I imagine you called to talk to Delilah?”
“No. Put me on speaker, please.” He let out a long sigh, and I knew that whatever the news was, it wasn’t good.
I punched the speaker button and replaced the receiver. “Go ahead.”
“I need the three of you to get over here right now. We’ve got a problem.” He sounded unusually tense.
“What’s wrong?” Delilah asked, a look of concern washing over her.
“I’ve got two dead bodies with no possible reason why they should be dead. But they are. Both of them are Fae—one’s from OW, one is Earthside-born.” He coughed. “Can you be here in half an hour?”
I glanced at Delilah and Camille, who both nodded. “We’ll be there,” I said. As I punched the speaker button to hang up, Iris entered the room. My jaw dropped.
Iris had always been pretty, but tonight she’d taken it to a whole new level. Her hair was glowing, woven into a plaited chignon, and a beaded, low-cut halter dress the color of the evening sky showed off her figure. The crowning effect was a sparkling gold and black shawl draped around her shoulders.
“Oh my gods, you look stunning!” Camille stared at her. “Bruce is going to be panting in his boots when he gets a glimpse of you.”
“Iris, you’re gorgeous,” I said. “But we need a sitter for Maggie stat, because Chase just called. He needs us over there.”
Iris grinned. “Not to worry,” she said, staring over our shoulders. “We have company.”
I glanced around. Roz had just walked in the door.
“Roz, you’re on Maggie duty tonight. Bruce just called. The limo’s on its way up the driveway.” Iris checked her purse. “I have money, my keys, and my cell phone. If the world ends, you can call me. Otherwise, I may not be home till dawn.” She blew us a kiss and headed out the door, squeezing past Roz, who gave her a long glance over his shoulder as he let loose with a low wolf whistle.
Iris stopped in her tracks, turned, and said, “Excuse me?”
