I slumped back in my seat. “Tad figured that would be your answer. Do you have any other ideas?”
“Not really,” Millie said, frowning. “I can’t post warning signs since I don’t own the property, and I can’t force the owner to do so. We’re a small town, January. We just don’t have the resources to handle this. If we make an announcement about it, the owner could sue us for damaging their property values.”
“I know,” I mumbled. “Fine, I get it. I really do. But I’m not sure what—” I paused as my phone rang. “Will you excuse me?” I stepped outside into the wide hall. There were people hustling every which way. The library was booming with business, and so were the police station and the town hall. “Hello?”
It was Rowan. “I may have the answer to your problem,” she said. “Drop by tonight at 6:30. I have someone I want you to meet.” Before I could answer, she hung up.
I stared at the silent screen, then ducked back inside the coffee shop. “I got a phone call that may solve the problem, but I won’t know till tonight,” I told Millie and Asher.
“Let us know what happens,” Millie said, standing. She started to leave, but Asher hung back.
“Will you be at the carnival?” he asked me as Millie left the shop.
Surprised by the question, I stammered a “Yes” and then blurted out, “Why?”
“I thought we might meet up there. I can show you around. I know you used to live here in Moonshadow Bay, but it’s been a long time and—” He shrugged, smiling.
I stared at him. Had the mayor just asked me out? Feeling a little confused and not so much interested, I said, “Thanks for the offer, but I have a date.”
He held my gaze, his expression unreadable. “Well, can’t blame me for trying. I’ll see you around.” And then, his smile was back, but cooler than before. He abruptly left the shop.
I finished my cinnamon roll, watching him stride down the hall back to town hall. Asher struck me as a man who didn’t like to be crossed. And he also struck me as a man who expected to get whatever he wanted.
Trust me, you do not want to get involved with him, Esmara whispered in my ear, making me jump.
“Would you stop doing that? You almost made me take a bath in hot cocoa,” I whispered, hoping nobody would notice I was talking to the air.
You don’t have to whisper. I can hear you if you direct your thoughts toward me. And trust me, you do want me to talk to you—I can be a great help.
Is my mother with you? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, in case the answer was no, but the question formed before I could stop it.
She is, but there’s an adjustment period. I’m stronger magically than your mother is. But you’ll be stronger than both of us put together in time. Now tend to your chores. And be cautious tonight. Rowan is a spitfire, and even though she may not look the part, she can lead you along some very dark paths. But she’s a good ally to have. Just mind your p’s and q’s.
Feeling duly chastised, I shouldered my purse and headed out of the coffee shop.
Chapter Seventeen
Back at the office, I ran over what Millie and Asher had said.
“I’ll be honest, I don’t care for the mayor. He makes me uncomfortable.” I didn’t tell them why. But I did tell them about Rowan’s call. “I’m not sure what kind of an answer she has, but at this point, anything will help.”
“I wouldn’t say anything… Are you okay with going alone?” Caitlin asked. “I don’t think Tad or Hank should make the attempt, and I have a family dinner to attend and the only thing that can get me out of it is World War III. My mother is…well…let’s just say she makes Emily Gilmore look like a hippie.”
I snorted. I had loved The Gilmore Girls too, and that statement told me everything about the dynamics between Caitlin and her mother.
“Friday night dinners?” I asked, grinning.
“It’s a very real thing, so never bother inviting me to parties on Friday nights. I won’t take offense.” She shook her head, grimacing.
“I can go,” Tad said, but Caitlin shook her head.
“No, you’re still pretty weak, and so is Hank. We won’t let you, will we, January?”
“She’s right,” I said. “I’ll be fine going alone. Do you want me to just accept Rowan’s fix or should I wait until—we don’t have work tomorrow, do we? Tomorrow’s the carnival.”
Tad held up his hand. “If you think it’s good, take it. I called our client and told her not to buy the land. She said she’d look for a different parcel. She was very grateful for our advice.”
Hank cleared his throat. “What about the story for the site?”
“I’d be leery,” Tad said. “The owner wants to sell. Our story could really chase off business and I don’t want to get sued. I wish we could warn people, but…”
“I wish we could, too,” I said. “Let’s see what Rowan has to say tonight.”
“We’re not even going to decide on our next case until next week, so go home early. This has been a hell of a week. See you Monday,” Tad said, steadying himself on the desk as he slowly stood. “I really am still feeling exhausted. I’m going to go home and just take it easy this weekend.”
I returned to my desk, where I tidied up. As I leaned back in my chair, I realized that I fully intended to keep the job. Yes, it was dangerous, but it was also interesting and I liked Tad, Caitlin, and Hank. And we were actually doing something helpful, not just critiquing artists and their work. As I headed back out into the frigid afternoon, I looked up at the sky. The air here felt clearer and freer than back in Seattle. And that was a priceless gift.
Rowan was waiting for me in her parlor, along with a man I had never seen before. He immediately put me on edge. Oh, he looked normal enough—moderately tall, trim, straight shiny hair slicked back into a ponytail. But he was wearing sunglasses at night, and he was wearing a Tom Ford suit that must have run him at least three grand. I couldn’t guess his age, he looked like he could be anywhere between thirty to sixty, but he gave me the creeps and I didn’t offer my hand when she introduced us.
“January Jaxson, meet Val Slater. Val, this is January.” She paused, then added, “She’s a Fam-Trad.”
“Yes, I knew your great-grandfather,” Val said, his voice soft and seductive. That did surprise me. I had expected him to sound gruff, for some reason.
Then what he said hit me and I stared at him.
“You knew my great-grandfather?” I asked. He had to either be a witch or a shifter.
“Yes, I did. We…exchanged words several times, but he was an upright gentleman and we finally found a meeting place.” He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, and then he removed his glasses.
I shrank into the chair behind me. His eyes were cold stone-black, with red-ringed white irises. And that meant he was a vampire.
I trembled. I had never met a vampire before, and I had expected to go through life without meeting one. They weren’t common, but they had a strong community that worked its way through the UnderLife. And they were dangerous—volatile and prone to sudden attack.