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Her tone had grown crisper during that speech, as if thinking about all the things that had to be done had helped to smooth some of the rough edges of her grief. Actually, since Athene was such a pragmatic, take-charge sort of person, I had a feeling that’s exactly what was going on. I couldn’t even blame her; it always helped to have something to distract you from your grief.
“All the more reason to let Calvin know about Violet,” I said. “And honestly, he can’t be that angry about you relocating from the Airbnb to here. Like you said, you needed some space to think, but it’s not as if you left Globe. You were still doing what he told you to do.”
An unwilling smile pulled at her mouth. “Have you always been this good at rationalization?”
“Libra ascendant,” I told her cheerfully. “I excel at it.”
And I pulled out my phone.
When he appeared at Hazel’s house, Calvin didn’t look too thrilled that I’d managed to locate his runaway murder suspect. His dark eyes met mine and held for a moment, as if telling me that we’d discuss this later.
Which was fine by me, if it meant we’d have a chance to be alone together and talk.
But after that brief, unspoken exchange, he was all business. He declined Hazel’s offer of a glass of iced tea and took a seat in the living room’s only unoccupied chair, a small hard-backed thing that creaked uncomfortably under his weight, while his lanky frame made it look as though he was sitting in a child’s chair rather than one made for normal-sized human beings.
“Do you have a license plate number for Ms. Clarke’s car?” he asked after Athene had given him a description of the girl and a brief timeline of the events of the night in question.
“No. I know it was one of those retro-looking black and gold ones…some kind of vanity thing, I think.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and the garnets in the multiple ear studs she wore glittered in the sunlight coming through the window.
He smiled — the sort of friendly, encouraging smile that would have made my knees a little weak but didn’t seem to have much effect on her. “That’s helpful. Now, what time did Violet show up?”
“A little after nine-thirty, I think. I know it couldn’t have been much earlier than that, because Lucien had already gotten back from speaking to Selena.”
At those words, Calvin’s gaze flickered back toward me for just a moment. He didn’t comment, though, only said, “Was Lucien angry that she’d followed him to Globe?”
“A little, I think.” She shrugged. “But then Violet begged him not to be upset with her and said that she’d only come here because she didn’t want to be away from him. After that, he seemed to accept the situation. He told her she could actually help him out, because he needed her assistance with a ritual.”
“What kind of ritual?”
For the first time, a faint flush appeared on Athene’s high cheekbones. “A protection ritual. He wanted it in place before he slept.”
I wondered why Lucien would have needed a protection ritual in a place as sleepy and out of the way as Globe. Just a precaution, or was I missing a piece of the puzzle?
“Could you have helped with this ritual?”
Her eyes wouldn’t meet his. “Lucien liked to practice sex magic. He said it powered his spells better than anything else. We didn’t have that kind of a relationship.”
“Ah.” Calvin didn’t have the kind of complexion that would easily reveal a blush, but I had a feeling he was embarrassed by the direction the conversation had taken. “So, he performed this ritual with Violet.”
“Yes.”
“And they left after that.”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“A little before midnight, I think.”
He nodded and wrote a few more notes on the pad he’d brought with him. When he was done, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the medallion he’d fished out of the river earlier that morning. Since it was still encased in a baggie, I had to assume the forensics lab hadn’t inspected it yet. Made sense; the place probably wasn’t even open on Sundays.
“Do you recognize this?”
Her eyes had widened as soon as he brought it out, which was probably the only confirmation he needed. But Athene nodded and said, “Yes, it’s a GLANG medallion.”
“Yours?”
She shook her head. “I have one, but I don’t wear it much. Mine is still back at my house in Woodland Hills.”
