Busted. “I need another favor.” I ducked, mocking fear. She just rolled her eyes and propped a hand on her hip, waiting. I stumbled on. “Do you remember when you were having trouble with that video stalker and you crafted that charm that made you invisible on camera?”
She frowned at me. “What are you up to, Alex?”
“It’s all this.” I waved my hand around my head. “I’m sick of my face showing up on the evening news and the front page of the paper.” Which was all true. It wasn’t what I actually planned to use the charm for, but it was true.
She studied me and I gave her my most innocent smile. After a minute, she nodded and unclipped a small silver charm from her bracelet. It was shaped like a tiny lock.
“Use it responsibly, and if you get arrested, I didn’t make it.”
“Thanks! I’ll get it back to you as soo—”
The morgue door opened and I fell silent. Falin strolled out, and I fastened the charm to my bracelet before he noticed. Not that I should have been worried about it; he was talking with a man about my own age whom I didn’t know. The man wore street clothes, which meant he wasn’t a beat cop. ID-ing a body, maybe? He squinted in the bright fluorescence as if he was having difficulty seeing.
When his gaze landed on me, a dazzling smile broke across his face. He held up a hand, cutting Falin off, and walked over to where Tamara and I were talking.
“Beg pardon, may I presume you to be Miss Alex Craft?”
How am I supposed to respond to that? “Er. Yes?”
He bowed. “I am Ashen Hughes, and I am very honored to make your acquaintance.” He held out his hand, but when I took it, he didn’t shake. Instead, he lifted my hand and brushed his lips across my knuckles. “You have made great strides in our wyrd world.”
A fellow grave witch? I looked him over again. I didn’t know him, but that wasn’t unusual. Even among wyrd talents, grave magic was rare—only premonition witches were less common—and it wasn’t as though we had a national conference or anything. Ashen wasn’t a bad-looking guy. The fact he was standing next to Falin was unfair to him, but he had nice eyes. Green, very pale green, as if using grave-sight had bleached the color out of his irises. His dark hair was just long enough to show a tendency to curl, and he wore it slicked back from his face.
“If I may be so bold,” he said after releasing my hand, “I would be delighted to sit and talk with you for a while. It is rare to be in the presence of such talent. Or for that talent to be so pleasing to perceive. Would you be so kind as to join me for dinner?”
“Well, I, uh, I’ve actually already made plans.” Is he hitting on me? My eyes flickered to Tamara.
She was standing a bit behind Ashen and clearly mouthing the words “Go.” Easy for her to say. Of course, she had just sacrificed a dress to the improvement of my social life, as she put it.
Roy floated through the door. “I’d go,” he said. “That one confirmed everything you said about the spell on my body.”
Ashen’s eyes shifted as though he’d heard Roy, but he didn’t turn. Instead, he tilted his head, acknowledging my refusal. Then he said, “At the risk of making a fool of myself, may I ask if you have plans tomorrow around lunch? I would love to hear your account of the Holliday trial, and of course discuss this rather baffling spell on the late governor’s body. Clearly fae magic, judging by the glyphs.”
He recognized the glyphs?
“Clearly?” I asked.
“Oh yes. You see, I’m quite enchanted by the fae and have spent more time than I’d rather admit studying their magic and lore. Ancient glyphs are actually the emphasis of my current research. I recognized a few of the glyphs, though their arrangement and purpose on the governor’s body is beyond me.”
“But the ones you recognized—do you know what type of spells they are usually used for?”
“I can speculate.” Ashen leaned closer. “Lunch, Miss Craft? I would be delighted to speak of this at length, but I’d like to consult some texts first.”
Tamara was actually making hand motions behind his head now. Falin leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest as he scowled at me. Ashen is some sort of scholar in fae glyphs? I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to learn more about the spells I was up against.
Maybe he’d also be able to tell me something about the spell used on the body in the warehouse. Maybe he’ll even know how to counter the spell’s effect—or at least know a way to slow its progress.
“Lunch sounds great. Should I suggest a place?”
His smile turned on high power. It was a nice smile that went all the way to his pale eyes. “Actually, I’ve heard a lot about the Eternal Bloom. I was hoping to visit it before I left town.”
The fae bar? Considering my current issues with the fae, that sounded like a bad idea. Not that I hadn’t been there before, but if I went out for drinks, I preferred Mac’s. Usually the Eternal Bloom was filled with tourists hoping to catch sight of a real fae, who, aware of that fact, were rarely present.
From his spot on the wall, Falin shook his head, his eyes drilling into me. Not that it’s his decision. Apparently it wasn’t mine either, because Tamara took that moment to jump into the conversation.
“Alex loves the Eternal Bloom, don’t you?”
Uh. Crap. Tamara didn’t know about the kidnapping attempt, and I obviously couldn’t go into that here. I smiled at Ashen. “Okay, sure. Noon?”
“It’s a date.” He bowed again, then headed for the elevator.
Once he was gone, Tamara started gushing. “Oh, this is exciting. Do you need help deciding what to wear?”
“It’s just lunch. Besides, you haven’t even asked how last night went.”
She glanced back at Falin, who was still leaning against the wall. She lowered her voice. “You ended up ruining my dress by collapsing on the dusty floor at a crime scene. I can guess it didn’t work out. But this …”
She smiled and gave me a hug. “Well, I should get back to work. I’m slammed here.”
“Tommy still hasn’t shown back up?”
Tamara shook her head. “And Sally—you remember her?”
I nodded. Sally was a wyrd empath who enjoyed working with the dead because she didn’t have to shield from their emotions. Wyrd witches were few and far between, so I knew most of the wyrd residents of Nekros, but Sally and I were far from friends. She claimed I wasn’t in touch with my feelings and that I projected like a bitch.
“Well, she worked night shift last night, and when she left this morning she said she was feeling pretty bad. I won’t be surprised if she calls out tonight.” Tamara sighed. “So, I should get back to it.”
I waved good-bye. Then I turned to Falin. “I suppose you plan to escort me out of the building?”
He lifted an eyebrow, and I hated him for that expressive eyebrow. This one was definitely a cocky “Yes, and you can’t do anything about it.”
I showed some teeth. “I have one more thing to do.”
Roy was moping in the corner, and I walked over so Falin wouldn’t overhear me.
Not that he wasn’t watching. “Alex, are you planning to talk to that wall?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s a nice wall,” I yelled over my shoulder, then turned back to the ghost. “Hey, Roy, I need a favor.”
———
“Miss Craft, a moment of your time,” Lusa yelled as I crossed the green space in front of Central Precinct.
I groaned and kept walking. Lusa and her cameraman followed. I was tempted to activate Tamara’s charm, but if the statehouse had spellcheckers in use, having the charm active would make it a lot more noticeable, and I’d already had enough trouble with security for one day. So I just kept my head down and let my stride put sidewalk between us.
“Miss Craft, would you like to make any statement to the public about why you’ve decided to use gray magic?”
I stopped. I probably shouldn’t have, but I did. “I don’t use gray magic.”
“I have video of a gray spellbook being confiscated from you, and you have a dark mark on your soul. The evidence is pretty damning.”
I glanced from Lusa to her cameraman. The red recording light was blinking like a racing heartbeat. “Is this live?”
Lusa smiled at me. “It’s for my Monday show. Unless I get a better story.”
Crap. “How about if I can promise you an exclusive, but you have to wait?”
“I have deadlines, Miss Craft.”
I frowned at her. I couldn’t say anything, and I sure couldn’t give her anything by Monday, but she was a reporter.
If I dangled a big enough story in front of her nose, she’d bite at it. Without looking away from her, I said, “Roy, you want your story on TV?”
The ghost gaped at me. “Can I do that? I mean. No one can see me.”
“Roy, give me your hand, and don’t say anything confidential.”
I reached out, and he took my hand. Then I grabbed the grave essence in the air around me. I channeled it through my body and into Roy. I’d never actually tried to make a ghost visible, but when Lusa gasped, I knew it had worked.
She took only a moment to recover and snap back into camera-ready professionalism. “Okay, a ghost. So, what’s the story?”
“I know more about the body downstairs than any living person,” he said.
“The late governor’s body?” Lusa asked. At Roy’s nod, she turned to her cameraman. “Is he showing up on film?”
The cameraman hit a button.“Yeah, he’s a little shimmery, but he’s there.”
Lusa turned back to me. “Okay, so I get what—an interview with the ghost in exchange for not showing the footage I caught?”
I released my hold on the grave essence and Roy’s hand. “His name is Roy Pearson, and the deal is this. Once everything comes out, and not before then, you get an exclusive interview. In exchange, I want the original of the footage from the station, and any copies in existence.”