“Well, silver doesn’t bother you, so that rules out about fifty percent of the supernatural types. And steel doesn’t burn you either, so you aren’t part faerie.”
I stared at Harper.
“Look, I’ve been your partner long enough to know that your sixth sense coupled with that mooneye vision means something. Maybe now…maybe now you have a hint about what.”
“It’s a hint, but I have no idea what it means.”
“Let’s hope someone knows. In the meantime, I need to go to tech and grab a few things before heading out to Willowbrook. You think Gothel will talk to me?”
“If she’s still there. Doubtful.”
“Well, at least I’ll get to see Miss Pendragon’s pets again. Edwin said they’ve grown. A lot.”
Again, Edwin. “Well, I guess you’ll see.”
Harper grinned, but it didn’t escape my notice that she quickly dropped my gaze.
“Stay safe, partner,” I told her.
She nodded. “You too.”
I slipped the blade back into my belt. All right. Well then. Maybe Harper and Edwin had just grown close over the last few months because of the Cabell case. And they had worked together on the botched setup today. What a mess. Too bad no one had asked me about the plan to use Victoria as bait, which I would have solidly discouraged. But why not? Edwin had been distant. And things had been weird between us. But still. I was good at my job. Maybe it was because I’d been distracted…by wolf-shaped things.
With blond hair.
And bulging muscles.
And deep, get-lost-in eyes.
And right now, there wasn’t anyone else in the world I wanted to see.
But I needed to make a stop first.
* * *
I pulled the steamauto to a stop outside the strange little shop on Canterbury Row at the edge of the Dark District. I slipped out and eyed the thoroughfare. Ghost orbs floated down the street away from me. And in the shadows, deep in the dark, lingered creatures trying to stay out of sight. I could feel their eyes on me. But I wasn’t here for them.
I turned and headed into the shop. I was overcome at once by the musty smell, the dust making my nose itch. Everything was the same. The place was heaped with odd relics, books, and scrolls. The bone, mirror, and feather mobile over the door fluttered in the breeze.
From the back of the shop, I heard raspy whispering. Was someone else already here? Who was she talking to?
I set my hand on my knife as I made my way to the back. The Dís was sitting at her table. A single candle was lit. She was leaning in, her grungy silver hair covering her face, as she looked over a heap of bones spread out before her. She whispered in a language I didn’t recognize.
“Who are you talking to?” I asked.
She paused. “The gods, Clemeny Louvel.”
“Ah. The gods. How are they today?”
The Dís laughed. “The gods are always well.”
“Really? One would think disbelief in their existence might put a damper on things. So, are they good listeners?”
The Dís laughed. “Loki. Loki is always listening.”
“Didn’t Loki fall during Ragnarok?”
“Has it been Ragnarok?”
I chuckled. “I just assumed.”
The Dís laughed but didn’t answer.
“I met some gods not long back,” I said, settling into the seat across from her. “Nice bunch. Very…ethereal.”
The Dís did not look up. She studied the bones lying on the table before her and she muttered to herself—or the gods.
I slipped the enchanted dagger from my belt and set it on the table.
At that, the Dís stopped.
“So what does Loki have to say about that?” I asked.
The ancient seer lifted her rheumy eyes and looked up at me. There was a mad, gleeful expression on her face. She swept the bones off the table and stuffed them into her pocket. She then leaned forward and looked at the dagger.
“Someone came through,” she said, her voice full of wonder.
I nodded. “Do you know who?”
“Svartálfar.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Dark elf.”
I nodded. We were right. It was an Unseelie. “What do they want?”
The Dís shook her head. “Nothing good. Their jealousy burns. They covet Midgard. They covet the realm of light. Danger has come, Clemeny Louvel,” she said then lifted the dagger—it didn’t glow. She studied the markings thereon then handed the knife to me.
I hesitated.
“Go on. Go on,” she said, motioning for me to take the dagger.
When I did, the dagger lit up once more.
The Dís laughed loudly. “Maybe it is you who should be talking to the gods.”
I frowned then set the blade down. “You’re funnier every time I see you. Why does the blade glow when I touch it?”
The Dís lifted the dagger once more. “This is dwarven metal.”
“Faerie metal.”
“Dwarven metal.”
“Faerie metal. Let’s stop bickering. Why does it glow blue when I touch it?”
“Go to the Summer Country, Clemeny Louvel. Get your knight, and go to the Summer Country.”
She wasn’t going to tell me anything. Sighing, I rose. I dipped into my pocket and pulled out a packet and set it in front of her.
“What is it?” she asked excitedly.
“Dark chocolate with rose petals, pistachio, and currants.”
“Rose petals,” she said, scrunching up her nose in distaste.
“Don’t be so closed-minded. Try it.”
The Dís opened the box. Inside were dark chocolate pieces. The scent of the chocolates wafted from the box and perfumed the musty air. The Dís waggled her fingers then took out a piece and popped it into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully.
“Not bad,” she said, nodding.
“I may not know what I am. Or what you are. Or why that dagger glows blue, but one thing I do know is food.”
The Dís chuckled.
I turned and headed toward the door. I was just about to exit when she called out to me.
“Can you swim, Clemeny Louvel?” the Dís asked, her mouth full of chocolate.
“Swim? Yes. Why?”
Rather than answering, the Dís simply laughed and laughed.
Chapter 7: Lycans
I slipped back into the auto and headed across the city to Temple Square. It was already late afternoon, the sun dipping toward the edge of the horizon. Not really the ideal time to head into pack territory, but the Templars had come to tolerate, if not accept, my presence.
I parked my auto on the street then headed to the gate.
When Sir Nash saw me approach, he checked the street then unlocked the gate.
“Good evening, Agent Louvel.”
“Sir Nash.”
“Lionheart will be happy to see you,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I certainly hope so.”
The knight chuckled lightly. “You’ll understand soon enough. He’s in Middle Temple Hall.”
Confused, I crossed the square to the hall. I could hear some ruckus coming from the assembly hall where the Templars met to dine and discuss pack matters. All these years, Quinn and I had watched the wolves from the rooftops, never getting too close. Now, I was in the heart of pack territory. When Quinn and I ran this town, however, Cyril and Fenton haunted the streets, that bitch Alodie causing trouble behind all our backs. Even back then, the Templars were never a problem. They were secluded, secretive, scholarly. As it turned out, the Templars were still on a mission to find the holy grail. And even now, when they ruled the realm, they had not forgotten that goal. Many of the Templars were out in the field, still on the hunt for Christ’s chalice.