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There was more murmured conversation, then Leith said, “She says it’s her job to worry. She also says not to play games with Death. He’s dangerous.”
I couldn’t help smiling. I might not work for Phoenix, but I hung out with many of its employees, and I’d known Janelle almost as long as I’d known Leith. It was nice to know I was one of the ones she kept a psychic eye on.
“Tell her Death has been met and conquered. He holds no fears for me.”
He passed on the message and a second later, the cackle of her laughter came over the line.
“I guess that means she doesn’t believe me,” I said wryly.
“I guess,” Leith said. “So what are these other favors you want?”
“What can you tell me about the muerte?”
“The who?”
“It’s what my kidnappers called the dragon who was being held in the cellar with me. Apparently it means he’s an assassin of some sort, but he wouldn’t explain it any more than that.”
“I’m guessing this is the man Janelle just warned you about?”
“Probably. But he escorted me home and then disappeared, so I don’t think he’s going to be a problem.” Though I was probably tempting fate even thinking that.
“I’ll hunt around and see what I can dig up,” Leith said. “And I’d tell you to be careful, but we both know that would be a waste. You’re the most foolhardy cautious person I’ve ever known.”
“That’s a contradiction.”
“So are you.”
I grinned. “The other thing I want you to do is run a check on a Seth Knightly, from the Jamieson clique. He’s a dragon, and his father is our king.” Meaning the bastard was my brother’s half brother, but two men had never been so different. If Trae was warmth and sunshine, then Seth was everything that was dark and horrid in the world. “I heard he died in a car accident several years ago. I need to know whether that’s true, and if it’s not, where the hell he is now.”
“You know, it’d be nice if you actually
asked me to do something easy for a change.”
I laughed. “You get everything I’ve requested, and I’ll feed you for a week.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
He would, too. Not that I minded—not if he came through with the information. And I had no doubt that he would. Phoenix Investigations had a reputation for getting the job done quickly and efficiently, and a lot of that was due not only to the psychics in its employ, but to Leith’s ability to source the most innocuous details. “I’m at Trae’s for the moment, but I may be in and out, so I’ll give you a call later in the day.”
“I’ll wait with bated breath.”
I snorted and hung up, then leaned back against the wooden wall of the apartment and let the sunlight soak through me just a little longer. After a few minutes, I sighed and headed back inside to google Whale Point, the town that had given Angus his scars. I didn’t expect to find anything, and I got precisely what I expected—nothing. Of course, that didn’t mean the town hadn’t existed or that he’d been lying. It just meant that the truth had been so obscured by his lies that it was hard to tell one from the other. Part of me still wanted to go there today, if only to source out who and what might be waiting for me. But that was a risk I couldn’t take—not after Janelle’s warning.
It meant my only choice now was Angus. And while I wasn’t sure if talking to him again would clarify the situation, I had to try. He was the closest I’d come to getting some answers so far.
I looked at my watch and saw it was barely one. Obviously, time was intent on crawling by.
I switched on the TV, then headed into the kitchen to make myself another sandwich. After grabbing a soda from the fridge, I headed back into the living room—arriving just in time to see a local news report about a fire at a bar on Fillmore Street.
It took me only a second to realize it was the same bar I’d met Angus in. I grabbed the remote and turned up the sound.
“Police are treating the fire and deaths as suspicious,” the reporter said. “Several survivors have been interviewed, and one man is currently being questioned by the police.”
On the screen they showed the back of a dark-haired man whose gait was all too familiar. He walked beside several police officers, and while he wasn’t handcuffed or anything, they were heading in the general direction of a police car.
I just about choked on my sandwich. What the hell had Damon been doing at the bar? Had he caused the fire and the subsequent deaths? Part of me wanted to think he hadn’t, but there was no escaping the fact that he’d described himself as a killer.
Still, if they’d had any actual evidence against him, surely he would have been arrested rather than merely taken in to be interviewed. I didn’t know a whole lot about the workings of the police and the law, but that seemed the logical route.
