He blinked up at me, those lovely eyes of his clearing for just a second. “Come back to bed.”
Oh, yeah, that sleepy, sexy man didn’t know who he was talking to; I was sure of it. But I winked anyway. “Rain check. I’ve got a job to do.”
I hurried to the bedroom door and shoved it open. My muscles were wobbly as though I’d been working hard and not sleeping for hours.
“Feish,” I called out as I shoved the door open far enough to slip out.
She hurried toward me, gave me a look up and down, disapproving.
“I know. I know! I’m not after him, I promise! I didn’t—”
She swung a hand up between us, cutting me off. “Get back in that bed right now! Boss said you need to sleep, and you will sleep with him!”
I couldn’t help the smile. “You are a good friend, maybe the best I’ve had. But I have to go. Where are the chains from that demon I killed?”
Feish opened her mouth and then shook her head. “Boss uses them to make something.”
Why would he do that? “Do you know what kind of metal it is?”
She motioned for me to follow her to his workstation which included a huge coal forge, two different anvils, piles of hammers, tongs, and other tools I could only guess at. He’d added that second anvil since I’d been here last. Feish pointed to a knife that was on the anvil. There was no handle on it, just a bare tang that had yet to be fitted to something worth holding.
“Yeah, great, but what kind of metal is it? Steel?” I picked up the knife by the not-sharp end, turning it over. There was nothing special about it, but it had been made from the chains that a demon had wielded as a weapon. I frowned and set it on the anvil.
“It’s special steel,” Feish whispered. “Magic. Nothing that has a name.”
Of course, it was so special there was no name. But still, if I took it to Gran, maybe she’d know what it was. “Can I borrow it?”
She shook her head. “No, Boss is still working on it. He doesn’t like to send out unfinished work.”
I did a quick tally in my head of how long it would take me to get to Gran’s place and back. “When will he wake up?”
Feish tipped her head at me, her eyes saying it all despite their strangeness. “He would be very mad if he found it gone.”
“But if he doesn’t wake up until after we bring it back . . . then wouldn’t that be okay?” Right then, I made a choice that I hoped I wouldn’t regret. I scooped the knife and slid it into the sheath with one of mine. “You come with me; we’ll hurry.”
I grabbed her by the arm, and she didn’t resist me, at least not much. “Oh, he is going to be mad if he catches us.”
“Yes, but I’ll take the blame,” I said.
And just like that we were out of Crash’s place and rushing back through the streets, dodging tourists and cars, weaving our way through parks. As we neared Gran’s place, a buzzing sounded from inside my purse. I flipped it open and grabbed my phone.
I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Where the hell are you?” Eammon roared. “I sent Corb out to check on you, and you weren’t on the reserve! Eric is missing too! Then I be sending you text after text for the last twenty-four hours and nothing!” He was breathing hard, then he let out a deep sigh. “You be okay, lass?”
Holy crap. I thought I’d been out just a couple hours, not twenty-four! It was the next damn day!
Checking over my shoulder, I adjusted my bag and motioned for Feish to follow me around to the back of the house. “Yup, fine. Just hunkered down with Eric.”
“Thanks be to the stars. Where are you? I’m sending Corb and Sarge to back you up.”
I frowned. “What, why?”
“Turns out that Eric wasn’t wrong. There’s something afoot, something that wants him dead,” Eammon said.
“Well, I already figured that out, and I’m working on a long-term solution for keeping him safe.”
“So, the bigfoot is okay then?” Eammon asked and I stumbled to a stop because I had to have heard him wrong.
The what? Did he say what I thought he said? Traffic flowed around us and Feish tugged on my arm, trying to get me to move out of the way of one of the horse trolleys.
“BIGFOOT?” I squeaked the word, not because I was afraid, but because I was stunned to the core. “He’s a bigfoot?”
“Well, yes, what did you think he was?”
“I knew he was a shifter, but . . . not that.” I got my feet moving again. Hurrying once more. I all but ran the rest of the way to Gran’s house where I ran around to the back and banged on the door. Three knocks, a pause, two more, a pause, one knock. Not exactly rocket science, but I couldn’t come up with a better code at the moment, and at least I was making it pretty clear that it wasn’t the realtor coming to the door.
And anyone trying to kill Eric wouldn’t knock.
Except Eric didn’t come to the door.
“Hurry,” Feish whispered. “I can feel the boss stirring. Early, he’s up early!”
Oh crap! “Eammon, I’ve got to go.” I could tell him about his corrupt co-worker later.
“Who is that with you?” he growled. “It sounds like Feish. It better not be that two-faced—”
I hung up on him and put my shoulder against the door, pushing it open while my free hand went for the knives at my sides, pulling them clear.
The main floor was clear, each room empty of anything. So upstairs I went, the steps creaking each time I moved. Not exactly stealthy.
Blood splattered a few spots on the banister. I wanted to hurry but didn’t. It wouldn’t help Eric if I ran right into the enemy’s arms.
“Gran?” I whispered her name and she appeared right in front of me. I squeaked and stumbled back into Feish, nearly taking us both down. “Don’t do that!”
“Where have you been? Two of those demons took Eric!” Gran scolded, wagging her finger at me. “I couldn’t stop them! If I’d been alive, I could have stopped them, but all the protections on the house have faded with my death.”
A stream of profanities lined up at the tip of my tongue, but I bit them back, swallowing them for later. “Look, I have the chains. They’ve been made into a knife.”
I tucked my own weapon away and pulled out the knife that Crash had been making. Gran ran a hand above it and then jerked back as if she’d been burned. “Demon steel. That’s very bad.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “Bree, whoever made this . . . it’s a weapon used in sacrifices. A weapon that could kill a ghost.”
My jaw dropped. Eric’s words filtered back to me. “Eric said he could see you because he’s sort of a ghost too. Is he dead? Have I been hanging out with a dead man and didn’t know it?” But how could that be? I’d practically squeezed him in half in the closet.
“Bigfoots are complicated. They’re both physical and ethereal. It’s why they’re so hard to find in their other form. They can literally disappear. But it’s also why they are so rare. They don’t procreate well.” Gran sat on the top step. “A weapon like this would draw blood on him like nothing else would and would ground him here in this plane long enough to kill him. But it would have to be made by a master smith. Someone who has both the physical skill and the magic to bend metal to his will.”
I did a slow turn to look at Feish, my heart rate soaring. “Is . . .” I wanted to ask if Crash was the bad guy. If that demon had shown up to deliver the metal rather than attack him. Was he the one who wanted to kill Eric? Had we been working against each other without realizing it? I just couldn’t get the question out. I didn’t want to know. I mean, I did, but I didn’t.
“I need to take the knife back to him. He’s awake!” Feish held out her hand, but I saw the fear in her eyes. I shook my head.
“Feish, he was going to kill someone with this!”
“Not the Boss.” Feish waved her hands in front of her, but I saw the uncertainty in her eyes.
I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking fast. “Gran, what’s going on, why would someone want to kill Eric, and where would they take him?”
“Grave magic.” She shook her head slowly. “You need to talk to Tomas and be quick about it. There is a powerful alignment of the stars and solar system tonight. It would be a good time for a blood ritual if there was going to be one. But if the one who made this knife is dangerous, your friend won’t be safe going back to him.” She shook her head. “There are only two who could make this knife, and I can’t remember them. Damn memories are all jumbled up.”
I looked at Feish. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Stay here.”
She sucked her bottom lip in. “I have to go back. He’s calling me.”
I nodded. “Tell him that I stole the knife. Tell him that you tried to get it back. That’s the truth.”
She turned to go, and I touched her arm, then pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry. You’ve been a good friend to me.”
Her arms came up around me hesitantly. “I don’t want Boss to be the bad one.”
“Me either.”
Except that I think we both knew the truth.
I’d been playing with the enemy, and I hadn’t even known it.
20
From the top window of Gran’s house, Gran’s ghost and I watched Feish hurry away. “How do people not see what she is?” I asked.
“They see a woman with a harelip,” Gran said. “That’s what those without the sight see. Their minds make up something that fits within their scope of normal. But that is neither here nor there right now. Right now, you have to find Eric. He’s a lovely man.”
“I’d use that term loosely,” I said. I needed a car—I had to get to Tom and back. Backup wouldn’t be a bad idea, either, so might as well kill two birds with one stone. “Would a werewolf be able to track Eric? Like if I bring Sarge here, could he smell his way after him?”