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“I could kiss you for this.”
“Go ahead,” Camille said with a wink. “He’s good.”
Snorting, I set down the thermos and wiped my mouth carefully. More often than not, I ended up with a few spatters around my lips, and I preferred not to look like some blood-crazed monster.
“With all due respect to your darling husband, I think I’ll leave his kisses for you. Not really my type,” I said, winking at Morio. “No offense intended.”
“None taken,” he said, grinning. “Next time we’ll try for some sort of soup flavor. What’s your poison?”
“Hmm . . . beef vegetable would hit the spot.”
Happier than I’d been in a while, I glanced around the room. “While you guys eat your pizza, I’ll start clearing some of this junk out of here. Iris and I found something curious. Don’t trash anything that looks like it might have belonged in a bedroom or to an elf.”
I piled a stack of magazines in a box and carried them out, dumping them into the room across the hall. Smoky ignored the pizza and pitched in, helping me, as did Morio. Iris and Camille perched on a bench, digging into the Hawaiian-style pie.
As we worked, Camille alternated between eating and filling me in on what I’d missed during the day. With the summer solstice so close, the time in which I could be awake and active had been severely curtailed. I was down to around eight hours per night between sunrise and sunset. I’d sure be happy to see autumn and winter again. It sucked having to be in bed by five thirty in the morning.
“We finally got the wedding invitation from Jason and Tim. They’re holding it during the night just so you and Erin can make it.” She picked up another slice and held it overhead, letting the strings of mozzarella trail into her mouth.
“I’m glad they’re finally getting hitched. They make a good couple.”
Tim had won my respect a hundred times over when I’d had to turn his best friend, Erin. I’d sworn never to sire another vampire, but Erin would have died otherwise, and she made the choice. That’s how I ended up with a middle-aged human vampire daughter. Tim was her best friend. He’d come through when Erin and I had needed him most, and my respect for him had soared.
“By the way,” I said, “Erin’s selling the Scarlet Harlot to Tim. She can’t work there during the day, so he’s taking over. He’ll open a computer consulting business on the side, now that he’s graduated from college.”
“I know. He told me,” Camille said. “I’ll be sad to see Cleo Blanco fade away, but then again, I never did think he made a very convincing woman. He’s much better-looking as a man. Although, he did a good job lip-synching to Marilyn Monroe’s songs.”
She licked her fingers and then added, “Oh, yeah, Wade called shortly before we left home. He said he has something he needs to talk to you about. I told him to drop by the bar, so he’ll be over in a bit.”
Shit. I didn’t want to talk to Wade. We’d been arguing a lot lately, and distance definitely helped the heart grow fonder in this case. Whether it was the summer heat or the overdose of sleep, I didn’t know, but we’d been getting on each other’s nerves, and the problem wasn’t showing any signs of easing up.
“Great,” I mumbled. “Smoky, can you help me carry this rug? I can lift it, but it’s so long it’s unwieldy for one person.”
Smoky obligingly propped one end of the rolled-up Persian rug on his shoulder, and I did likewise to the other. We carted it across the hall and tossed it onto the ever-growing pile of debris.
“Where’s Delilah? We need to get some of this crap out of here before we end up with a fire. One stray spark, and this place would go up like a match.” I kicked at the rug, and it shifted.
“Patience, patience,” Smoky said. “Let me cast a frost spell in here. I can saturate everything with a layer of moisture and make it harder to burn.”
I groaned. “And turn it into a breeding ground for mold. Oh, go ahead. At least I won’t worry so much about fire then.”
An hour later, we’d cleared the bedroom of everything that didn’t seem to belong there. We’d uncovered a bed, dresser, trunk, writing desk, bookshelf, and rocking chair. Everything pointed to the original occupant as being a female elf.
“Who lived here?” Camille asked, picking over the remains of the second pizza. Smoky and Morio had settled into eating, and I could see that the other three pies were about to become history.
I shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest idea. Nobody at the OIA filled me in on whoever held the job before Jocko.”
Iris sat in the rocking chair, rubbing her hand over one of the polished arms. “Would the OIA have that information if you asked them?”
Camille shook her head. “Chances are, even though the organization’s back up and running, that most of the files were lost during the civil war.”
I had to agree with her. “Yeah. Most of the personnel have either been fired or arrested, depending on their loyalty to Lethesanar. Except, interestingly enough, the director of the Otherworld Intelligence Agency. Father told us he was a double agent, but I didn’t know whether or not to believe it. Damned if the information wasn’t correct, though.”
“Jocko’s dead. He can’t very well help us,” Camille said. “Any of your waitresses might know?”
“Doubtful, but that gives me an idea.” I jumped up and headed for the door. “I’ll be right back. Meanwhile, you guys search the room and see what’s in the closets and in that desk. Look for whatever you can find. Check under the mattress, too.”
