Page 5

“I am aware.” He pressed a control on his wheel and the top turned invisible, allowing a fuller view of the tropical island, endless ocean, and iridescent shield of magic that sparkled in the light beyond. “But I realize it’s inevitable. Besides, we have to find the mole, and we won’t do that unless we question people.”

Right. Julian was convinced there was a mole in SHADE. Somehow Maryanne’s killer had found a way inside the nearly impenetrable security of the base. They’d even been smart enough to use a shadow spell when they killed her so I wouldn’t see their identity in her memory. Which I hadn’t pointed out to Julian in the hopes of him not losing his shit and locking me in a tower to protect me. But that meant the killer knew I was psychic. Or at least that there was a psychic who might view that moment. And that had me on edge.

“Who are we interviewing?” I asked. I had hoped for a quiet meal, but I supposed as long as I got food…

“I believe the perpetrator may be one of the sect liaisons. They travel more easily on and off the island than those SHADE tracks. They have the access and the power to pull it off.”

I chewed on that while Julian capped the hill into the village. A boardwalk spread out before us on either side of the main street, ending at the ocean in the distance. Multi-colored buildings advertised various shops, cafes, and galleries. And swinging in the breeze was a wooden sign bearing the logo of a wolf’s hand holding a pint of foaming beer that I assumed to be The Rusty Shifter.

Julian pulled into a spot along the opposite walkway, and a young elf came to a stop on his skateboard to gape open-mouthed. Ignoring his blatant stare, Julian sped around to assist me before I could manage it on my own and led me toward the steps of the pub, one hand splayed on my back.

Despite his hurry, I noted the faces peering out of windows all around. But when he opened the door and the rush of pleasant, almost-familiar music and mouthwatering food met me, I forgot all about the question on the tip of my tongue and let it lure me inside. The dimly lit interior felt cozy, and despite the tropical setting, the crackling fireplace in the corner drew me closer until I found myself at a wooden table nearby where Julian pulled out an upholstered seat for me.

“Well look what we have here,” exclaimed a short man with stark white hair and beard as he hurried over from the bar. “And who might this lovely young lass be?” His small dark eyes twinkled, and the green and gold aura around him endeared me immediately.

“Murphy, this is Doctor Charlotte Devaux. She is new to the island,” Julian said.

Murphy took my hand and squeezed with a smile. “A redhead? You found me weakness, Lieutenant.”

“Call me Char,” I said with a laugh.

Murphy winked. “I’ll be right back with some drinks and stew.”

“Isn’t there a menu?” I asked when he’d scurried off behind the bar.

“Murphy has a talent for knowing exactly what you favor,” Julian said, stiff backed as always.

A minute later, Murphy set down two drinks before us. “An Irish Mule for the lass. And a Bloody Mary for the Lieutenant.”

I glanced between my mouthwatering beverage that I hesitated to drink knowing I had to return to work and Julian’s sad-looking goblet of congealed blood with a celery stick poking out.

“You favor…that?” I asked.

Julian pushed it toward the shadowed edge of the table with a grimace. “I’m not very popular on the island. But I doubt you will have that issue.”

Unable to resist any longer, I lifted the copper mug and took a sip as the bubbles tickled my nose. Delicious. And I could already feel it rushing to my head on an empty stomach.

The bells at the door chimed, and I looked over to find the person I least wanted to run into darkening the entryway despite his blindingly white appearance. Carmichael, the vampire sect liaison, had a lithe frame bedecked in an ivory turtleneck, despite the weather, whitewashed jeans, and blond hair slicked back and parted on the side. I’d met him once, for all of two unpleasant minutes, when he’d crashed my date with Julian at the vampire estate. I hoped the two wouldn’t end up fighting again, though I supposed they’d both been drugged in the previous encounter.

I should give him another chance based on that knowledge. But between my senses telling me to run the other way and the woman I’d met that night who’d introduced herself as his “pledge” while showing off her bruised bite marks, I decided to keep my guard up.

Crossing my arms, I waited as he slithered toward us with a chilling grin.

Julian appeared about as happy as I was to see Carmichael. He stood to meet him, the polar opposite with his perfectly mussed dark curls, black uniform, and chiseled body. Though I doubted Carmichael was weak, since he had vampire strength, and his pledge—Michelle—had called him one of the strongest.

“I see I have another chance to make a first impression,” Carmichael oozed, reaching out his hand for mine.

I stared at it, remembering the last time he’d taken my hand and bitten me for a “taste.” That had started the fight and spun me into a panic attack.

After a moment, he withdrew his hand. “I can’t say I blame you, my dear, but please don’t judge me too harshly. I was under the influence. Speaking of which…” He pulled a chair up to our table. “I hear you apprehended the perpetrators?”

“They’re dead,” Julian reported blandly.

I winced, still concerned Julian had something to do with their apparent murder-suicide after we apprehended them. I took a sip of my drink to cover my reaction.

“How very convenient,” Carmichael said as Murphy placed a steaming bowl of stew in front of me and a tall, thin glass of blood before Carmichael.

I speared a bite of meat and blew on it, ignoring our uninvited guest.