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“I do not have time for emotions,” he scoffed and turned his head back to the window.
“There’s always time. Now’s a good example.”
He still didn’t look at me. “I need to focus on getting Savida’s fire back. I cannot consider what I feel now or how I will feel if I fail.”
“So, we’re going to pretend you aren’t exhausted. You aren’t grieving, anxious, and panicked? That you don’t blame me and Zaide for losing him in the first place? That you aren’t angry you came to the human realm to find Margaret? Sorry, Clawdia.”
The ticking of my indicator worsened the silence as I turned right into a road. We weren’t far away.
Daithi sighed and then reluctantly agreed with my observation. “Yes.”
“Right. Just so I know we’re on the same page.”
He paused, and I could feel him stare at me. “Where I am from, it is not okay to not be okay. I do not vocalize my problems. How is it you can still hear them?”
“Finder of all things, Daithi. Even repressed emotion.” I quirked a smile in his direction. “Just do me a favor and try to talk to Zaide. He is still your friend and wants to help.”
As we pulled up to the house, Daithi huffed. “I will think on it.”
I didn’t acknowledge him. I was now focused on the next task. Getting into the house and finding more information about where Winnie and Mary had gone. “Right,” I started, “we are totally winging this. Let’s see how it goes.”
“Is that wise?” Daithi hissed.
It was too late to stop me. I hoped Lady Luck was with me as I jumped out of the car and strolled casually to the door. I knocked. Daithi approached behind me. We waited. I knocked again. We waited again.
“Charlie, I don’t think anyone is inside.”
I gave him a sideways glare. “You don’t say. Right, I’m going to break in. Can you cover us with some kind of illusion while I work?”
“Of course,” he replied. I ran to the car, opened the glove box, and retrieved my trusty tools. “How do you know how to do this?” Daithi asked.
“Misspent youth,” I quipped. “A guy I used to work with showed me how to break any lock. I’m rusty, but it’s not something you forget.” It took me five minutes, and then the door swung open. “Ta-da.” We stepped over the threshold, and the smell of potpourri stung my nostrils. Grimacing, I said, “Let’s split up and look for something that tells us about whoever lives here.”
“She is female,” Daithi said drolly as he looked around an entirely pink living room.
“No kidding.” I wandered around the kitchen and found letters lying on the counter. I picked up one addressed to Deborah Delaney. “All right, Debs. Why did our witch thieves come see you?”
“She is also a witch thief.”
“You might be right.” I tossed the letters back on the table and turned as he came into the kitchen.
“I am right. I can feel a small magical signature in this home.”
I immediately straightened. “She’s here?”
“No. Her magic and use of it in this house has left an imprint on it.” He opened cupboards at random. I wasn’t sure if he was being nosey or if he was searching for the magic.
“Right. We just need to find out where she’s gone, if she’s with Winnie and Mary, and if not, if she knows where they are.” Spotting a calendar on the wall, I wandered over. I poked my finger at the date. It read, “Delivery?”
A delivery of demon fire?I wondered.
“Hello!” a voice called. “Hello!”
I crouched instinctively. “Who the fuck is that?” I hissed at Daithi, who also crouched, like it was his fault. “Fuck!”
“Hello!” the voice called again. And then it whistled. I frowned. “Hello!”
“Wait!” I stood up and walked into the utility area to find a parrot sat in a cage.
