

Adept Solutions

Special Investigators for the Magickally Challenged

Book One

Hekate's Chalice

By

Teagan Kearney

The right of Teagan Kearney to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchases.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © Teagan Kearney 2016

Cover photo: Shutterstock

Dedication

To Tim, as always, for your loving support and help.

And to my readers—a heartfelt thank you.

Sign up for my mailing list to receive information about new releases, advanced reading copies, discounts and free promotions. Click the link to get started:

https://bit.ly/2zGXGsS

#

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Monday 5.30 pm Nov 1st All Saints' Day

Chapter 2: Tuesday 9 am

Chapter 3: Tuesday 10 am

Chapter 4: Tuesday 11 pm

Chapter 5: Wednesday 10.30 am

Chapter 6: Wednesday 2.30 pm

Chapter 7: Thursday 10 am

Chapter8: Thursday Midday

Chapter 9: Thursday 4 pm

Chapter 10: Thursday 8.30 pm

Chapter 11: Time Unknown

Chapter 12: Time Unknown

Chapter 13: Time Still Unknown

Chapter 14: Sunday 1 pm

From the Author

# 

# Chapter 1: Monday 5.30 pm Nov 1st All Saints' Day

JB lit another stick of incense, as heavy rain drummed a counterpoint on the windowpane to Nikki's furious typing.

"Don't lie, Zhanna! I know you've cracked my password. And you've been sneaking into my files. That makes it the second time today." Nikki kept her eyes fixed on the screen and her black curls quivered as she shook with suppressed anger.

Zhanna, a six-inch faerie of the Irayisi race, smoothed the sides of her pink and black spiked Mohawk hairdo with her matching striped fingernails. She fluttered her wings, and sparks of iridescent color refracted like stars exploding into the air. "I haven't been near that antiquated piece of junk you call a–"

"Look at her!" Nikki demanded of her boss. "Was she watching me dress this morning?" Other than the additional pink, and the Mohican hairstyle, their Goth outfits were identical, right down to the brass studded black leather boots.

JB rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders as he placed the incense in its holder on his desk. A thin line of smoke rose, and the scent of sandalwood purified the atmosphere. "Coffee, soda, anyone?" It wasn't much of an attempt to keep the peace, but it might stave off a full blown hissy fit from either of them. He stood and stretched his tall lean frame. His mixed daemon, elf, and human ancestry gave him a dark brooding quality.

"As if I haven't got enough on my plate with Juan moving in, and putting his boxes all over the place. And keep those nasty fingers of yours to yourself." Nikki hissed at Zhanna, revealing her unnervingly pointed canine teeth.

Zhanna's gold tinted eyes flashed, and pouting, she tossed her sparkly star-topped wand on the desk and flew over to the window. "Nobody here understands me." She landed on the windowsill and leaned forward, her tiny nose touching the glass. "I don't deserve to be sentenced to this place. EBay scams should be classed as misdemeanors. It's not as if we intended to hurt anyone. And what's with this wet stuff pouring out of the sky at all times of the day and night?" Her finger followed a raindrop as it ran down the glass. "In Faerie Land–"

"Yeah, yeah, we've heard it before. In Faerie Land, everything is hunky-dory."

"Oh, come here JB. There's a little lost child standing outside our door."

JB crossed the room and peered down at the street. The weather was too miserable for all but the most enthusiastic of shoppers, and as five thirty approached, the sidewalk filled with office workers scurrying along with their collars turned up and diamond raindrops glistening on their umbrellas as they headed home. Mellie's, the café on the ground floor, was closing, and even though it was late afternoon, the low-hanging leaden-bellied rain clouds made it almost as dark as night.

Zhanna perched on JB's shoulder and stroked his earlobe with a striped fingernail. "Stop that," he said twitching as he studied the disheveled, rain soaked young girl peering anxiously at the door.

"There are quite a few shades following her. I'll get rid of them." Nikki's gaze raked the darkened doorways on the opposite side of the street.

"Yeah, some always overstay their welcome and take their own sweet time to return to the other side. But what do you expect the day after Halloween? There's a bunch over there," JB pointed to an entrance a short distance away.

"And there. And there," squeaked Zhanna, grabbing a hold of JB's hair, and digging her fingernails into his scalp. She stared in horror as more shades gathered.

The girl pressed the buzzer, and JB went over to the intercom and pushed the button. The unexpected caller disappeared inside the building.

Nikki opened a window. "Mind your ears," she warned as she held the large pale coral-pink conch to her pursed mouth. Sucking in a lungful of air, she blew hard and sent a long, deep mournful sound out into the city. Drawing in another breath, she blew the conch two more times.

The shades shredded and melted into the darkness as several windows opened from nearby apartments. Some were more polite than others as they shouted at her to quit making that racket.

"Slaret ua!" Nikki cursed as she banged the window shut. "Stupid ungrateful humans! Would they prefer to live in a shade infested neighborhood? Do they want nightmares or sweet dreams? They should be showering me with gifts in thanks for the service I performed!"

"Shh," JB said as he opened the top drawer in his desk and deftly laid the sleeping faerie on a pile of silk cushions. He closed the drawer, leaving a gap big enough for her to exit when she woke.

Like all faeries, Zhanna needed regular naps to replenish the high amount of energy she continuously expended. Sodas and other sugary drinks kept her awake for a certain length of time, but only for so long. Then she'd crash anywhere–on the keyboard of her laptop, on top of the microwave, even once in the sink–until someone laid her in her bed.

"Well, more than one good result then," Nikki smiled as she rinsed and dried the conch before returning it to its place on the shelf, next to a white oak stake, a solid gold crucifix, a pair of silver handcuffs, and several jars of dubious looking substances.

"Hello?"

JB and Nikki turned as their visitor knocked timidly on the office door.

The girl was young, around fourteen or fifteen years old. Her pale blonde hair hung in rat's tails around her shoulders, water dripped down her forehead, and her clothes were soaking wet. Her large brown eyes regarded them with trepidation.

"Come in, come in. Nikki, find a towel and bring our guest a hot drink, will you? Come and sit down." JB's serious, almost grim expression softened as he pulled out a chair for her.

The girl's shoulders relaxed a fraction at his reassuring words, though she regarded him warily as she sat.

Nikki produced a hand towel and bustled back to the area designated as the kitchen, although it only contained a sink, a hot drinks machine, and a microwave oven. The aroma of cinnamon and hot chocolate circulated through the room as she placed the steaming cup in front of their unexpected visitor, who'd already dried the worst of the damp out of her hair.

Nikki perched on the edge of JB's desk, and they waited while their guest sipped her hot drink. "Thank you," she said. "This is delicious."

Nikki smiled at the compliment, revealing her sharp incisors. She was only half imp, on her father's side, so hadn't inherited the full complement of pointed teeth, which made it possible for her to pass at a quick glance for a human, though any serious consideration of her narrow build, slanted silver-gray eyes, and wild mass of black curls would reveal her heritage.

"So, how may we help you?" JB asked, keeping his voice gentle.

"I'm Maya, and my aunt is Hekate, the leader of the Lielit coven. I don't know if you've heard of them–they're quite famous–anyway, she sent me here. I'm looking for Jean-Baptiste?"

"Well, you've found one of them. My father, Jean-Baptiste Senior, is the other. I'm Jean-Baptiste Junior."

"Aunt Hekate insisted it had to be the older man." She looked from JB to Nikki and back to JB.

"My father is unavailable, but if you'll tell us why you're here, we'll see what we can do." He added a little glamour to his voice. They needed the job.

A year ago JB Sr., a lifelong voodoo practitioner held in great esteem by his community had wanted to sell the business and devote himself to his congregation. His son had argued passionately and persuasively to let him take over the agency. After all, hadn't he been training since he was fourteen with the aim of eventually taking over the family business? He'd only started studying architecture because his father insisted he try something else before committing to a career as a private detective. In the end, they arrived at an understanding. JB Jr. would run the agency for a year, and if after that time the business wasn't financially solvent, he'd agree to his father selling and return to the architectural course.

When people realized JB Sr. wasn't available anymore, business slumped, and he let go the few long-term employees who'd remained. On top of which, JB Sr. now lay in the hospital in a coma after a hit-and-run accident, and the police were having no success in locating either the driver or the car that struck him. "I'm as good a detective as my father. Possibly better," JB said with a smile.

"Okay." The glamour seemed to have done the trick, and Maya straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. She spoke rapidly, running all her sentences together as the story flooded out of her. "My aunt has a chalice which she uses for predicting the future, and it's made the coven powerful because she's Mayor Bradley's psychic advisor, and he comes once a month, on a Sunday after church for a consultation. He listens to her advice about all sorts of things, but the chalice has been stolen, and she won't be able to help him anymore without it. She wants you to find it by this Saturday." Having repeated her speech, Maya sank back into the chair. Picking up the cup, she finished her drink.

"Would you like another?" Nikki reached for the empty cup.

"Please." Maya looked at her gratefully.

"Why didn't Hekate come herself? Why did she send you?" JB asked. "If you don't mind me saying, you are quite young."

"I'm family and she trusts me, though I'm not an actual coven member yet. But I'm in training and I'll be initiated next year. She hasn't told anyone because she doesn't want it to get out the chalice is missing."

Nikki returned and placed a second cup on the table next to Maya. "Careful it's hot."

"Is she suspicious of anyone in the coven?" JB asked.

"She didn't say."

"Were there any signs of a break-in?"

"Not that she told me."

"Okay." Not much to go on so far, JB thought. "Is Hekate available now?"

Maya shook her head. "She's giving Tarot card readings at a conference for Tropolis's business leaders, but she'll be back early tomorrow morning."

JB's forehead furrowed for a moment. "I'll meet with Hekate tomorrow, say ten o'clock. If any other witches are around, tell Hekate to say I'm a reporter wanting an interview for an article I'm doing on witchcraft. After I speak with her, she can decide if she wants me to take the case. And if she does, I'll check out the place and see if I'm able to pick up anything. Does that sound good?"

Maya's face lit up. "Oh, yes, and I'm sure she'll want you." She ended the sentence by burying her head in her cup and finishing her drink.

Evidently, Maya hadn't needed the glamour to be impressed by JB's dark good looks. "Right, if you're ready, I'll give you a lift home. Your aunt won't be happy if you catch pneumonia." He shrugged into his black leather jacket and glanced at the window where runnels of raindrops chased each other down waterfalls. "Nikki, make sure the twins are on time for tomorrow's morning meeting. I want to start early."

Nikki nodded. "Sure, I'm on it as soon as you're away." They both knew what she meant was she'd deal with it once she'd seen him drive away and checked he wasn't being followed.

The almost silent buzz of Zhanna's wings next to her ear startled Nikki, as she stood by the window. "I'm sorry, I upset you," the faerie said as she settled on Nikki's shoulder. She stretched and released one of Nikki's curls.

"Sure, you are," Nikki muttered, her attention on JB as he climbed into his secondhand black Chevrolet and leaned across the front seat clearing it of whatever junk he'd thrown there so Maya had somewhere to sit. "We might actually have a proper serious case," she told the faerie, now busy winding the thick curl around her waist.

"Perhaps we'll see some action."

"Not for you. You know the conditions of your sentence."

"I can always hope. Look that car's pulling out too. Do you think he's following them?"

Nikki lifted her phone and snapped a quick picture as the car passed the building, and a couple more shots before both cars were hidden by the dank curtain of miserable weather. "Maybe. Maybe not." She swiped the phone screen. "Losing them isn't a problem for JB, but I'm not taking any chances." She held a finger up to silence Zhanna while she called JB. "Be careful. You might have a tail."

# Chapter 2: Tuesday 9 am

The thin morning sunlight sparkled on the scattered sugary remains littering the empty donut boxes. Steam curled into the air, and the aroma of fresh coffee filled the room.

Zhanna hovered over one of the boxes, gazing dolefully at the debris of Nikki's early morning raid on the local bakery. Today the faerie's Mohawk hair had morphed into a Goth style crop cut, with long black layers hanging down over her heavily kohl-outlined eyes. She wore a black lace bustier, elbow length black fingerless gloves, and a frilly black lace skirt. Black high-heeled, over-the-knee leather boots encased her slender legs and tiny feet. Her outfit bore an uncanny similarity to Nikki's. Again.

"Copycat," Nikki sneered pulling her laptop out of her bag.

Zhanna hissed but swallowed her reply as she heard JB running up the stairs.

Entering the office in a rush, JB seized the coffee Nikki held out for him and took his seat at the head of the table. He smiled at Zhanna's expression of deep longing as she continued to examine more boxes.

JB raised an eyebrow, his mouth quirking up as he exchanged looks with Nikki.

"Was that car following you last night?" Zhanna asked, but continued before either JB or Nikki could answer. "Oh, and Hekate phoned,".

"It's Hek-a-tey with the stress on the first syllable, not the last."

Zhanna stared at the last remnants of the pink icing lying in the box nearest her, sniffing she scowled at JB. "She confirmed your appointment this morning."

"Good." JB sipped his coffee, enjoying the rush of caffeine-fueled energy coursing through his system, his glance lingering on Gemma.

Nikki watched him sympathetically from under her eyelashes. She knew he had a crush on the gorgeous twin, despite her idiosyncratic fashion style, but as Gemma was in a relationship, with his old-fashioned notions of honor, he considered her off limits.

Gemma and Jason each had a large brown A4 envelope in front of them. The bright copper haired twins were the male and female versions of each other, but that's where the similarity ended. Jason's style was casual but smart. Gemma preferred the grunge look. His hair was cut in a military crew cut style whereas she'd scrunched her long Titian curls into an untidy loose bun instead of bothering to run a comb through them. He wore a pair of smart dark gray slacks, a pale gray sweater over a white polo shirt, and his shoes were polished to a high shine. JB had banned Gemma from wearing her ripped jeans to work, but the ones she had on were still scruffy, her plaid shirt looked ready to disintegrate, and her mid-calf leather boots were scuffed and battered. She'd tossed her ex-army store camouflage jacket on the back of her chair.

Chalk and cheese, people said about them. But appearances were deceptive: Gemma was conscientious, reliable, possessed an impulsive streak—and was fiercely loyal to her brother. JB had considered sacking Jason because of his casual attitude; he often turned up late to meetings and had lost more than one person he was meant to tail. Especially when JB had begun digging into his safety net to pay salaries. But Gemma had threatened to leave, offered to take a pay cut, and promised her brother's work would be up to scratch if he was given another chance.

JB had agreed to a three-month trial period. The truth was he was loath to lose either of them, Gemma in particular, as their ability to cloak their presence made them excellent investigators and invaluable assets to the firm.

"Guess it was a good date then?" Gemma kept her voice low but didn't hide the scorn dripping from her tone.

"Why do you ask?" Jason continued doodling on his pad.

"Well, judging by the hickey on your neck ..."

Jason hitched up his shirt collar. "Since you asked, it was great. And what's bugging you? Isn't the handsome Xander behaving himself?"

"That's none of your damned business." She spoke louder than she intended, then stared at the brown envelope.

JB cleared his throat. "If everyone's finished exchanging morning pleasantries, let's start the meeting."

"Please excuse my rude sister, she's having personal problems." Jason raised his hands and made air quotes with his finger as he said 'personal'.

"Is everything all right, Gemma?" JB asked.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"I think she means you should mind your own business," Zhanna observed.

If looks could kill, Zhanna would have died by group glaring, but faeries are nothing if not outspoken and thick-skinned, so the animosity bounced right off her, and she carried on flicking her wand at her keyboard.

"Right. Nikki, any info on the owner of last night's car?"

"I'm waiting for Pete to call." Pete was her contact in the local DMV office. She turned her laptop around and displayed an enlargement of the photo she'd taken the night before. Nothing much showed other than a dark shape hunched over the driving wheel. "And, yep, he's human." She brought up a second photo displaying the plate number.

Zhanna had been busy tapping with her wand the second she saw the number. Faeries possessed an intuitive understanding of computers and made the best programmers—and hackers. The downside was they were prone to electromagnetic radiation addiction, and could often be found slumped, unconscious, and drooling on their keyboards after extensive computer sessions. "Oh, it says here Mr. Slipovatch of 94 East Avenue reported the vehicle stolen a week ago."

Nikki growled. "Thank you so much for your unasked for help." She turned to JB. "How much longer do we have to put up with that thing?" Imps and faeries had a natural aversion to each other and as Zhanna's computer expertise was greater than Nikki's, it meant she'd taken over many of the latter's tasks—another factor that hadn't helped the pair bond. "Isn't her sentence nearly finished?"

"Another thirty days." Jason's lips lifted in a lazy smile, and he winked at the tiny creature.

"Oh, Jason!" Zhanna batted her eyelashes at him. "You're keeping count. How sweet." She blew him a kiss.

"Okay, that's enough."

The warning in JB's voice had everyone directing their attention to their laptops and notepads.

"Zhanna, after the meeting, see if you can find out anything about this Slipovatch. Jason, Gemma, an update on your case."

The twins simultaneously opened the flaps of their brown envelopes and pulling out a dozen photos they slid them up to the others. When the twins had first joined the agency at the beginning of April, the way they'd often done things simultaneously had spooked the others, but now they were used to what they called the 'twin thing'.

Gemma spoke first. "Plenty of evidence from both parties, if they're looking to file for divorce. Barbie, sorry I mean Ellie, Ellie Sanderson is cheating on her husband, Bob, with a wizard named ...," she flicked through her notebook, "Magister Merlin from Avalon Homes, a new housing development over on the north side. He makes the trip into town, twice a week, and as the photos show, they've never been to the same hotel twice. They're not seen together in public, and always book separate, but adjoining rooms. They were both careful, and I wasn't able to take any shots of him entering her room, or vice versa, so the time stamp on the photos showing their arrivals and departures could be viewed as coincidence—though that's an awful lot of coincidences. But Lady Luck was on my side as our Ellie isn't shy, and doesn't close the curtains, so four hotels provided enough opportunity to obtain the necessary pics."

JB flipped through the photos. "Good work, Gem."

Gemma shot him a satisfied smile.

"Jason?"

"Mr. Sanderson isn't so careful. He owns a small first-floor condo in Tayville and whenever he goes there, which is at least twice a week, one of Aphrodite's girls turns up. And it's a different girl each time."

"Aphrodite's girls?" Zhanna interrupted.

"Sirens," Gemma told her. "Once they get their hooks into a guy," she made a cutting motion across her throat, "they'll be customers for life. Sorry, Jason, keep going."

"They must both be exhibitionists as he also likes the curtains open. And someone planted way too many prickly shrubs outside his bedroom window."

Sly grins appeared on everyone's face, though they tried hard to hide their amusement at the image of the handsome urbane Jason squatting in the bushes, peeking through the window and taking shots of the action inside the room.

Jason looked offended. "What?"

"Well done, both of you. Nikki set up meetings with both clients ASAP. I don't have to mention how tight money is."

"How are we going to manage those meetings?" Nikki asked.

At first, they refused Mrs. Sanderson because of a conflict of interest, as they had taken on the job from Mr. Sanderson. JB claimed the agency had too many cases on their books to spare an investigator for her. Regrettably, for JB, Ellie Sanderson's father was Jack Dremen, an eminent wealthy businessman with fingers in every pie in Tropolis. Her not so veiled threats that JB would be sorry if he didn't take the case had persuaded him to change his mind.

"If you meet them at the same time, but in different locations, neither will have an advantage," Gemma said.

"That should work," said Nikki. "If JB meets her here, I could meet him somewhere else, Mellie's is too close, but say the restaurant at the Winston Hotel. It's quiet there in the mornings."

"Okay, good plan. Set up those meetings, and have you anything to report on the hit-and-run vehicle?"

Nikki was following up possible leads on the car that hit JB's father. "Yes, I got a tip this morning. One of the cars picked up by the bank's security camera, and not yet discounted, has been seen in Carlton. I have an address and I'll be heading over there the minute we finish here."

"Okay. Once you've located that car, Nikki, Zhanna will run background checks on both owners." He grabbed a pink post-it pad and pushed it over to Zhanna. "That means you have two jobs—and take a nap before you start. That's an order."

Zhanna nodded, a frown creasing her forehead. She waved her wand over the post-it note, and a large red number two glowed on the pink page. She stared at it and added a question mark, before using her wand to float the little pink square through the air and attach it to the top of her screen. Faeries' concentration spans were less than that of a mosquito, and the team had soon discovered the need for visual reminders for more than Zhanna's immediate task. To help her concentrate, she was banned from social media, except for an hour a day, and wouldn't even be allowed that much if she went anywhere near eBay.

"Jason and Gemma, type up your reports. And some good news, we might have a new case. I'm off for a meeting with Hekate, who is the leader of the Lielit coven. They have a special chalice used for predictions, and it's gone missing. If I reassure this Hekate that I'm as capable of doing the job as well as my father, we'll be in business. And solving this will do wonders for our reputation." His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the text message. "Okay, the meeting is finished."

Chairs scraped noisily across the floor as everyone stood up and gravitated toward the coffee machine.

JB touched Nikki's arm. "How are things at home? Juan... your mother...?"

"Don't ask. I'm sure it'll get better, 'cos I don't think it could be much worse."

"If I hear of anywhere suitable, I'll let you know. But I'd better be going–I got a text from Maya–Hekate is waiting."

# Chapter 3: Tuesday 10 am

The Lielit coven's headquarters was in a leafy tree-lined suburb, and the sunlight sparkled on green leaves washed by last night's rain. The large detached houses spoke of money in a subdued, but instantly recognizable manner.

JB would have known the house even if Maya hadn't been standing outside waving at him as soon as she saw his car.

Every other property was modern ranch or American colonial, but this one practically shouted 'prestigious supernatural organization', and was the only building with steep sided roofs, small casement leaded glass windows, and an excess of ornamentation of the gargoyle variety, topped with a massive central chimney. The plethora of weird and wonderfully carved pumpkins left over from Halloween was another unmissable indicator.

JB, his fake ID hanging from a lanyard and the office digital camera in hand, followed Maya around the side of the house. They entered a large kitchen diner, where despite the gothic exterior, everything was ultramodern, and no expense had been spared in providing every kitchen gadget available on the market. Several women stood chopping vegetables on a blue-veined white marble topped central island, while others stirred pots bubbling on the range.

The aroma of bread baking made JB's stomach rumble, and the fragrant smell of herbs from the cooking reminded him that other people ate food that grew out of the earth and didn't survive on caffeine, donuts, and Chinese, Japanese, Thai, or Italian takeout meals.

"Where's my aunt?" Maya asked no one in particular.

"She's upstairs in her office," a pretty blonde replied, eyeing JB up and down as if he was a piece of candy on a plate and her sugar addiction had kicked in. She stopped stirring the pot on the stove and sashayed over. "I'm Nadia, and you are?" She lifted JB's ID, and her eyes flicked between his face and the photo on the card. "Hallo there, Mason Bridges from the Evestown Gazette. And how may I help you?"

His nose twitched as he breathed in the heavy sweet scent of jasmine, but he didn't blink as the woman batted her baby blues in an open invitation. "I'm doing a story on famous covens. All aspects of the supernatural fascinate our readers." JB said feeling a sudden sympathy for the male wolf spider.

An older woman, her long gray dreadlocks tied up in a colorful scarf kneading dough with powerfully muscled arms, looked over picking up on his predicament. "Maya, your aunt's expecting you and your friend. You'd better not keep her waiting. Nadia, leave the poor boy alone."

"Later, sweet cheeks," Nadia held his ID card for a moment longer than necessary and gave him an appreciative smile as she released it.

He nodded at the woman who'd rescued him, acknowledging his thanks with a wink, as he hurried out the door after Maya.

The instant he entered Hekate's office, JB's skin prickled. His daemon alert–a benefit of his daemonic ancestry–went off, but before he could reflect on the source, the woman at the mahogany desk by the bay window rose to greet him.

Hekate was a small slim woman with the same pale blonde hair as her niece but styled in an elaborate French braid. She resembled a television news anchor rather than the leader of the most powerful coven in the state with her gray pinstriped pantsuit, and white silk shirt. Her brown eyes were bright with intelligence, and her red lipsticked mouth broke into an easy smile. "Thank you, Maya. You can go help in the kitchen."

Maya nodded and scooted off.

Hekate walked toward JB, holding out her hand. "I can tell you're Jean-Baptiste and Izzy's son," she said. "you've got those bright emerald eyes of hers."

"You knew my mother?" JB took her small smooth hand and shook it.

"Don't look so surprised. The supernatural community in Tropolis is large, but sooner or later you get to meet everyone. And there are precious few half-elves, and only one I knew of who fell in love with and had the audacity to marry a half-daemon. You must have quite the mixture of abilities, I imagine, but that's a conversation for a more pleasant occasion. I apologize, I've been rather busy lately and hadn't realized your father was in the hospital. I'm sorry to hear of his accident. How is he?"

"Still in a coma. There's not been any change. The doctors are doing their best and they tell me, that as long as he's alive, there's hope."

"If I can help in any way, don't hesitate to ask. I owe him in a big way. Now, what do you require to get started?"

JB's shoulders relaxed a fraction. Hekate had confirmed the case was his. "Okay." He pulled out his notepad, "Could you show me where you keep the chalice."

"Don't you mean kept? In here." Hekate took a heavy bunch of keys from a drawer in her desk and led the way into a second smaller room.

As he walked through the doorway, JB's daemon alert pinged again. Solid iron bars safeguarded the windows, there was only the one door, and except for an elegant display case in the center, the room was empty. A golden chalice on a red velvet stand gleamed in the pale sunlight, its surface adorned with amber, semi-precious stones, and covered in ornate filigree spiral patterns in silver and gold,

"That's an identical copy," Hekate said, "We sell them in our store and online. It's absolutely vital word doesn't get out the real chalice is missing."

JB studied the room, noting the security cameras, and walked around the display stand, studying the intricate scrollwork and runes running across the chalice's surface. He didn't pick up any more indications of a daemon presence.

"I found the chalice gone when I came into the office yesterday morning. The whole house is warded, and we have powerful defensive spells in place around this room. And the latest in security devices—the camera's HD, has night vision, motion-activated recording, air quality sensors, you name it, we've got it. I also added my own layers of protection, and I can assure you, I'm no novice. I've done a few checks of my own, but even my scrying has found nothing to tell me where it is now. It's as if it's invisible. I need to have it returned by Saturday at the latest because I have my monthly meeting with the Mayor this Sunday."

"I'll require a copy of your security camera footage," JB told her, keeping his voice and attitude neutral. She was now the employer and he the employee.

"Sure, but I reviewed it carefully, and it shows nothing."

"Which might indicate an inside job, as whoever took it did so without triggering any of your protective devices. In addition, I want a list of coven members and their details."

Hekate hesitated.

"If a private detective agency disclosed confidential information, they'd soon be out of business. How much do you trust everyone in your coven?"

"Most a hundred percent ..."

"But not everyone," JB finished for her.

"No. Sad to say, not everyone. The current Mayor is grateful to us as the chalice's predictions have played a vital role in his rise to power. But if I'm unable to give him correct forecasts, he'll replace me with someone else from another coven. Someone who isn't so honest. And our reputation will vanish overnight. I'm sure you're aware a witch's reputation is her livelihood, and I've spent my life building mine."

"I give you my word, your data is safe with us, but that list is essential if only to rule out your coven members." JB understood her reluctance but the witches were the logical starting point. "Is there anyone who stands out as particularly ruthless and ambitious?"

Hekate gave a small bitter laugh. "I can think of a few, but none with the ability to take me on by themselves. If the mastermind behind this is a coven member, they'd have to have had outside help."

"Or whoever wanted your chalice used blackmail to subvert someone."

# Chapter 4:Tuesday 11 pm

A small crowd of languid couples shuffled against each other on the dance floor of the Sweet Blood vamp bar under a muted ruby light, while the vampires gave the humans, and other supernaturals brave enough to enter their territory, the once over with a predatory eye.

JB sat on a stool by the bar. He sipped his whiskey on the rocks, loosened his tie, and smoothed his jacket lapels—he'd sacrificed the comfort of his leather jacket for a barely worn smart gray suit to gain entrance to the club, and ran a hand over his slicked back hair. He watched Gemma out of the corner of his eye as she checked out the early night crowd, assessing and rating them according to some inner criteria.

Normally she wore her untidy mane tied back off her face in one careless style or another, but tonight she'd tamed her wild Titian locks, and her hair fell in soft shiny curls around her shoulders and down her back. The little black dress she wore with a pair of strappy heels revealed a whole new Gemma he hadn't known existed.

"You like what you see?" She spoke without turning. "I may only be a hedgewitch with a number of extra perks, but I can tell when someone focuses on me. And you're hard to ignore, dressed up in those fancy clothes with that intense fire-devil glow simmering under your skin."

JB threw back his whiskey and signaled the barkeeper for another. He'd intended to have only the one, but there was something about Gemma that unbalanced him.

"So how come I get the honor of accompanying you tonight?" Gemma's smile was smug as she eyed him, her green eyes giving him the same keen inspection she'd given every other male, human and otherwise, within sight.

His control back in place, he met her gaze with equal scrutiny. "Nikki and I worked on Hekate's files till two am this morning, and apart from being there for her mother, Juan would have given her hell if she'd come here tonight."

The barkeeper put the second glass of whiskey in front of JB.

"What's the plan if everyone in the files shows up clean?"

"That's why we're here tonight. An old friend owns this place. He might have picked up something."

A loud cheer from a group of human males in a darkened booth drew their attention. The vampires seated in the adjoining cubicle revealed their fangs and hissed. The young men's chins dropped, and for a second, the only sound in the room was the soft jazz track. After a minute or two, the low murmur of conversation resumed its previous level.

"How's Jason doing??"

"Work or personal?"

"Whatever you want to share."

"On the personal side, Jason's Jason, with a girl for every day of the week. Work-wise, he enjoys the independence this job gives. He ... he's had difficulty keeping jobs, so I appreciate you giving him another chance."

"I'm not prying, just making small talk."

"I know." She smiled and her eyes were soft.

"Hey there, JB!" A tall good-looking man clapped JB on the shoulder.

"Hey, Chima! How you doing?" The two men clasped hands and grinned at each other. "Let me introduce you to Gemma, and Gemma, this is Chima, the owner of this esteemed establishment."

Chima laughed, revealing his sharpened canines. "Don't worry," he extended his hand to Gemma. "I'm only half-vamp, and I don't need blood to survive. So you're safe with me."

"Good to know," Gemma studied Chima's blonde dreadlocks, and pale caramel coloring with appreciation as they shook hands.

"I guess it's the half-daemon part that saves me," he added giving JB a meaningful grin as he took his time releasing Gemma's fingers.

JB dampened the rising flush of jealousy as he watched the two of them. "For the record, she works for the agency and has a boyfriend."

"Shame," said Chima with a sigh. "I can tell this one's a heartbreaker. I was sorry to hear about your dad. How's he doing?"

"Thanks for asking. He's still in a coma. The docs won't give a definite prognosis; they keep telling me to wait."

"So what can I do for you tonight, my friend?"

"I'm wondering if you've heard a sniff of anything unusual?"

"Any particular kind of unusual?"

"Witches, daemons, that kind of unusual."

Chima thought for a minute. "The only witchy thing going on here was a party of witches came in two nights ago. Apparently visiting a vamp bar is the latest fashion among the covens."

"Do you know which coven?"

"Yep, they were from Hekate's Lielit coven."

"Was she here?"

"Nope, it was a bunch of younger women."

"Would you mind if I had a look at the security tape from that night?"

Chima hesitated for the barest fraction. "You put in a good word for me with Hekate?"

JB laughed and looked at Gemma. "Nikki, Chima, and I were in high school together. He and I were the only two hybrids with daemon-blood there, so we had each other's backs. I can't tell you how many times he saved my skin." He turned to Chima. "You haven't changed! Sure I will."

Chima grinned sheepishly. "This way, then. Hey, Leon," the bartender turned. "Be back in a sec."

An hour later, it looked as if JB might have to pull another late night as Gemma returned to the small office with two large cappuccinos. She sat down next to JB and they continued studying the security footage.

"So what's the big secret with Zhanna?" Gemma asked, sipping her coffee.

"Nikki hasn't told you?"

"Nope. We haven't been in the office together recently."

"Ah. And I'm well aware she's more than peeved at losing the IT—especially to a faerie. Those two species don't get along too happily at the best of times." JB stopped the tape, relaxed and sipped the hot drink. "I need this. As for Zhanna. It seems our cute little guest was convicted of fronting an eBay scam run by a small-time faerie mafia who sold Faerie Dust on the Internet–"

"Faerie Dust? There's no such thing, is there?"

"No, there isn't. But this lot promised to change people's luck and fulfill their desires if they bought whatever it was they were selling—probably dust from vacuum cleaners or something equally unpleasant. But Zhanna lucked out, 'cos she's the Faerie Queen's great-great-great granddaughter or something, so instead of spending a hundred years in faerie lockup, she got a forty-year banishment from Faerie Land to be carried out under my dad's supervision."

"Your father knows the Faerie Queen that well?" Gemma's voice rose a notch.

"Long story. Anyway, seeing as how Dad's out of action, the happy responsibility of overseeing Zhanna's sentence passed to me as his next of kin."

"Forty years?"

"Ah, but on the upside, a year in faerie time equates to twenty-four hours human time, so it's not as harsh as it first sounds."

"Oh, good to know and now I get the falling asleep thing. I can't help but feel sorry for her. Isn't she vulnerable here in our world?" Gemma said.

"No, and don't waste your pity. She's tiny but faeries have more power in their little fingers than most of us have in our whole bodies."

JB threw back the last of his coffee. "It's well after midnight, let's finish this up."

They resumed checking the security footage.

JB suddenly leaned forward. "Wait, rewind a bit."

Gemma obliged.

JB leaned in close to the screen. "Those women are Hekate's witches. I recognize her from this morning." He pointed at a cluster of young women giggling and chattering as they entered the club and seated themselves in an empty booth. "That's Nadia."

They watched as the women ordered drinks, and apart from trips to the bathroom and a few dances with each other, they appeared to be having a regular girl's night out as they ogled the vampires, weres, and humans who captured their attention.

"Who is she talking to?" Gemma paused the tape. "That one." She indicated a young woman with short black hair cut in a stylish bob, wearing a strapless red dress. "That's the third time she's gone to the bathroom in the last fifteen minutes. Who's she's talking to? He's not a human or a vamp, is he?" She zoomed in on the couple huddled in a darkened corner.

"No. He's definitely a daemon." JB said. "I picked up a faint trace of a daemon at Hekate's house, and I would guarantee she never invited one in, so maybe there's a connection. There must be a strong reason for him to come into a vampire bar because believe me they're the most xenophobic race of all." He took a screenshot of the pair on his cell phone. "Zhanna can find out who she is from the files. Let's see if she leaves with him."

They'd barely resumed watching when JB's phone rang. He listened for a few minutes. "Yes, I'm on my way."

"Everything all right?" Gemma's attention remained on the screen.

"No, that was the hospital. I have to go. Can you finish up here?"

"Sure, no problem."

"I'll get Chima to order you a taxi."

"No, it's fine. I might want to hang here for a while."

"Gemma, that's an order."

"You think I can't take care of myself?" For a second they locked gazes.

"It's not that, and you know it. I have no problem if you want to come here on your own time. But if anything happened to you because I left you here working on a case—that's on me. And I'll get Chima to make sure you get into the taxi."

She glared up at him, her green eyes blazing with rebellion, but his tightened jaw and the red flicker in his pupils told her she wouldn't win this battle. She blinked first then nodded. "Okay, okay." She raised her hands in surrender. "You're the boss."

***

JB squeezed his father's hand, his gaze flicking between the beeping machines and his unconscious father's face. He swallowed the tears that threatened to fall.

A sudden popping sound had him on his feet and turning around, adrenaline racing through his bloodstream. His eyes widened as a seven feet tall powerfully built daemon, dressed in a black Armani business suit and matching turtleneck sweater, stepped through a flickering luminous portal into the room bringing with him the faintest whiff of sulfur. The shining gap between realities closed behind him with a soft pff. "Jean-Baptiste. A pleasure to see you. How is your father doing?" His deep rich bass filled the space, and his pupils flickered with small crimson flames as he gazed at his grandson with affection.

JB spluttered and almost choked. Apart from the heat radiating from his body, the sharpened horns sticking out of his head, and his bronze burnt copper complexion, he resembled any other businessman in a suit. He'd only met his grandfather once when he was six years old and had never forgotten the experience of being tossed in the air and cooed at by the strange man with his fire-colored face. He'd been fascinated by the flickering light in his grandfather's pupils and poked him in the eye. Ascepius had thrown back his head and uttered a loud booming laugh that had terrified the small boy.

The daemon appeared not to have aged. His thick black shoulder length hair showed not a single gray hair; his teeth were as brilliantly white against the blood-red lips as he remembered, and his burnished copper skin showed not a single wrinkle.

JB's mind was a complete blank. Seeing his grandfather pop out of the ether into the hospital room seemed to have severed the connection between his brain and his tongue. He stared openmouthed, wondering if Chima had dropped a hallucinogen into his drink.

"Yes, it's been a while, but I'm sure you remember me." The daemon slid around JB and studied Jean-Baptiste Sr. "I understand why my son kept you away from me. His childhood was difficult."

JB flashed on a number of the stories his father had related; term time and school with his Cherokee mother on the reservation, and holidays with his father in Hell. In both places Jean-Baptiste Sr. had been the outsider, who was teased, bullied, and hated for being different. He hadn't wanted his son to have the same experiences, so he and his half-Irish, half-elf wife, Caileen, had brought JB up in the city of Tropolis, where at least he wasn't the sole hybrid. "Yes, I remember he said his half-brothers used him as a guinea pig to hone their skill in possessing humans."

"It's a fact our species has a degree of contempt for its mixed race offspring, and hybrids are particularly vulnerable to such control. But on the positive side, he learned to resist domination." Ascepius appeared lost in his memories for a moment. "I love my son, and I welcome the chance to further our relationship, even under these unfortunate circumstances. You are, after all, my blood." His eyes fired red sparks as he laid his heavy hand on JB's shoulder.

JB was struck by how vastly alien in nature to humans daemons were in spite of the basic similarities of body shape, and number of limbs etc., "Only a quarter of my blood is daemon." He glowered up at his grandfather.

Ascepius's eyes narrowed and the flames in his pupils danced with blue sparks, but he said nothing and looked from JB to his son. "Here's my card. If you ever need anything, call me."

JB took the offered card. Despite his distrust of his grandfather, it wasn't smart to annoy any powerful fiend, and Ascepius, as the head of one of the most dominant daemon families, had a formidable reputation. JB studied the card. "You have the Internet in Hell?"

"You'd be surprised at what we've got. Now put the information on your phone before you accidentally lose that card."

JB heard the threat, despite the softness in his grandfather's voice, and decided, at least for the moment, obedience to his wishes was the wiser option.

Ascepius checked his watch.

JB's eyes bugged out at the size of the rose gold wristband and elaborate watch face. He could pay his entire staff's salary for a year and more with the price of that Rolex.

"You must come and visit sometime... meet your cousins and the rest of your family." And with that parting invitation, a pop, and a pff, Ascepius vanished.

# Chapter 5: Wednesday 10.30 am

JB finished pulling on the clean T-shirt over his head as he reached the top floor. His father owned the building, and living in the spacious, if somewhat messy, second-floor apartment possessed advantages, the best of which was making it out of bed, through the shower, and up to the office within ten minutes, though his record was five. As he opened the door, Nikki dashed passed him. "Got a tip. Yesterday was a no-go, but the car that trailed you has been spotted outside an address in south Carlton. I'm off to check it out," she said hurrying down the stairs

"Great," he replied, but she'd disappeared, the sound of her steps fading before the front door banged. He entered the office feeling positive. They might finally have a lead on who ran down his father.

Gemma, Jason, and Zhanna sat around the big table working on their laptops.

Zhanna was doing her prom queen impression today. A long sapphire blue gown, its low-cut neck revealing somewhat more than necessary of the faerie's tiny bust, heavy–but normal compared to yesterday–make-up, and blonde curls crowned with a sparkling diadem.

JB blinked but knew better than to comment. Coming up with new looks and playing with her appearance kept her mind occupied. The last thing he wanted was a listless depressed faerie lying in a desk drawer the entire day.

"Morning, everyone." He sat down opposite Gemma and opened his laptop. "Quick update, still nothing on the hit-and-run car, but Nikki's following up a lead on the stolen car that tried to follow me the other night. I tried to get hold of Hekate to save us time identifying the witch with the daemon contact, but she's out of town at a coven leader's conference and took Maya with her. She is one busy woman. I take it nothing else useful from last night?" He looked at Gemma, who shook her head. "So, we have four days left to solve this case. Do we have anything interesting yet?"

"No, but with everyone helping, we should identify her soon. We're almost finished with the full members, and Jason and Gemma are starting on the affiliate members. This coven has an extensive reach," Zhanna primped her hair. "And Jason says if I'd been at his prom, he would have danced every single dance with me." She fluttered her eyelashes at the current object of her affections.

Gemma snorted. "Prom night?"

"Shut. Up." Jason's tone silenced his twin but didn't wipe the smirk off her face.

"Zhanna, anything on Slipovatch? "

"No. He's a retired teacher, who doesn't even have a parking ticket on his record. "

"Good. At least we can eliminate him. Anyone for donuts?" said JB, pulling out his phone, and walking over to the coffee machine.

Zhanna clapped hands and waved her wand leaving a trail of rainbow sparks flickering and flashing in the air. "Sugar time! Yeah," she crowed.

At eleven o'clock, JB announced, "Sorry, guys. I'll be out for a while. I've got an appointment with my father's consultant." He grabbed his leather jacket. "Keep working through that list. Something will show up."

"We'll text you if we discover the witch's name," Zhanna called as he headed out.

The good mood engendered by Nikki's news that morning dissipated as JB's thoughts spiraled out of control as he crawled through the mid-morning traffic. What would the consultant say? Was payment from the current cases enough to pay the staff salaries this month? Were any bills due this week? He didn't want to fire anyone or have to consider paying the twins a half salary each and making their lives difficult.

Gemma and her brother were orphans, brought up in foster homes, and she was highly protective of her brother. He had greater psychic ability, but she had the brains. She never gave details, but he knew she often rescued him from situations far more serious than a romantic liaison gone wrong.

His mood shifted as he remembered breathing in Gemma's rose musk perfume last night, and how relaxed he'd felt in her company as they'd worked side by side. Independent, feisty, and beautiful, she was everything he admired in a woman. He was aware Gemma and her boyfriend were going through a rocky patch, but until she was free, he would have to appreciate her from a distance.

The consultant, Dr. Brexit, was serious. "Your father's condition isn't stable, and there's always the possibility of partial or total loss of brain function. We have no way to predict the outcome until he regains consciousness. And you must be prepared that he may not recover," he informed JB.

Afterward, he walked through the hospital and out to the car park brooding over the doctor's words. The bright sunshine and clear blue sky added another layer of unreality to what was happening to his father, and he didn't want to think about any 'what if' scenarios. JB Sr. had been devastated by the death of his wife five years ago, and it had taken a year before he emerged from a grief-stricken depression. Since then he'd taken more and more shelter in his religious practices. As JB approached his car, his phone buzzed. He checked the caller. "Yes, Nikki. What's new?"

"I found Slipovatch's car. A heavyset guy drove up and parked outside thirty-six Russet Avenue as I arrived. He took a few shopping bags out of the trunk and went into the house. Do you want me to settle in for a stakeout? Otherwise, I need backup to approach him."

After several harrowing encounters, JB Sr. instigated rules for approaching people that JB stuck to wherever possible. Normal non-threatening humans could be approached one on one, but investigators weren't to approach non-humans or intimidating normals except in pairs, another reason JB hesitated over firing Jason. He and Nikki—the only other investigator till he took on the twins—had worked separately when needed, and despite being able to pass for a slender human female at a quick glance, Nikki had been shot at, tasered, and assaulted on a number of occasions when on her own.

"Sure. I'll tell Zhanna to send Jason. No change with my dad, though my grandfather decided to pay a visit last night."

"You mean–"

"Yep, the one and only. Okay, I got another call. We'll talk later, Nikki. Take care."

"You too."

"Hi, Zhanna. What have you found out?"

"The witch's name is Bathsheba White and she lives in Lakeside."

"Send Jason over to join Nikki–she'll text you the address–he can take a taxi. Send me the Lakeside address and tell Gemma to head over there right away, 'cos it'll be a while before I can get there. And let her know my strict instructions are to observe and tackle nothing on her own. Good work, Zhanna."

***

Gemma slouched behind the steering wheel. She was proud of the secondhand Jazz Blue Pearl Dodge coupe, the first car she'd owned in a while, and only possible because JB had taken her and Jason on six months ago. Jason was good with machines and sorted any problems. The steady money made life bearable, and the new apartment was better than the old even if it was in the same shabby area of town. At least they had a bedroom each, instead of Jason on the sofa in the living room.

With the lunchtime traffic, it might take JB the better part of an hour to get here from the hospital. Gemma thought about the way he'd studied her in the bar last night. She knew he liked her, but wouldn't do anything about it because she was in a relationship, though she wasn't sure this thing between her and Xander fit such a description. She admired her boss for having standards—not something she'd seen a lot of growing up in care homes and being shuffled from one foster home to another, and heard of his bad boy reputation, but she hadn't yet seen any behavior that warranted the rumors.

The sight of a sleek black Mercedes pulling up outside the witch's condo, one of four set on the corner of the quiet tree-lined boulevard, dispelled her ruminations. Sliding down a tad more, Gemma grabbed the camera and took half a dozen photos. "Now this is interesting," she muttered to herself as the daemon from the nightclub's security footage climbed out of the vehicle. She took more shots as he entered the apartment block. Grabbing her phone, she called JB.

"Gemma? Everything all right?"

"I'm outside Bathsheba's place, and that daemon we saw her speaking with on the tape from the club arrived and went inside."

"Do nothing till I get there. Even if he comes out and leaves, don't follow him, but make sure you get the plate number–"

"Got it."

"And wait. That's an order. We have no idea how much power this daemon possesses, but he's running around town in daylight, which means none of us can handle him alone. I'll be there as soon as I can, but the traffic through Central is a nightmare."

"Okey dokey, boss. Will do." She smiled. Cute but he gives too many orders, she thought. Turning her attention back to the street, she took another shot of the daemon's car. She was flattered and annoyed when JB acted protectively toward her—as if she hadn't been looking out for herself and Jason since as far back as she could remember.

Ten minutes later the daemon hurried out of the building and toward his car.

Gemma took a few more shots, this time getting several clear pictures of his face.

As he opened the car door, his head came up, and he searched around slowly as if he sensed someone watching him.

Gemma slid further down behind the wheel, hoping she'd been quick enough to avoid detection. Her phone buzzed, and she stretched out a hand and snatched it off the dashboard.

Xander's text message was short. 'So sorry to end things this way. It's me, not you, but I'm not ready for a serious relationship. Take care of yourself.'

She stared at the phone in disbelief. He'd dumped her by text! "May you catch every disease, venereal and otherwise, on the planet. May the devil shrivel your bits and you die sad and alone, and in great pain." She continued cursing Xander as she heard the daemon drive off, and waited, muttering under her breath till the street was quiet again before she sat up. At least JB hadn't been here when she got the message. She was about to ring him when the witch walked out the door. What had Zhanna said her name was? Bathsheba? Picking up the camera, still swearing, Gemma quashed the surge of envy as the woman, a fashion plate in a red beret, matching red coat, and over-the-knee, red leather boots climbed into what looked like a brand new red Chevy Camaro, revved the engine and drove off. Whatever she was up to, Gemma thought, evidently paid well.

#  Chapter 6: Wednesday 2.30 pm

The neighborhood was derelict with hardly a soul in sight, and an air of abandonment and decay permeated the district. The rising wind blew tattered bits of trash along the sidewalk, and the sky had clouded over with sullen steel-gray clouds heavy with the threat of rain as Jason joined Nikki outside thirty-six Russet Avenue. The single story bungalow built around the turn of the previous century was one of three positioned between two empty dilapidated apartment buildings, which looked as if they'd collapse of their own volition if someone didn't come and demolish them soon.

Jason and Nikki looked distinctly out of place and made an odd couple–the suavely dressed young man and the slender Goth–as he led the way up to the house, and rapped on the outer screen door. Even from where they stood they could hear a woman's raised voice and a kid crying. Jason knocked again.

A solidly built middle-aged man, complete with potbelly and hamburger in hand, opened the door. Two young boys of about eight and ten pushed in front of their father and gazed up in wide-eyed in astonishment at Nikki. The man shooed the boys inside and stepped out onto the porch. "What do you want? I paid the rent two days ago," he growled. "And you're interrupting my lunch."

"Oh, no, sir," Jason replied smoothly, "we were admiring your car, and wondered how long you have had it. You see my ..." he paused for the barest fraction, "sister here is looking for something similar."

Nikki blinked and swallowed a laugh, somehow keeping a straight face.

Once the man, who gave his name as Jack Bailey, discovered they hadn't been sent by his landlord, he was more than willing to answer their questions. He told them he'd bought the vehicle at a secondhand dealership the same day he'd paid his rent and showed them the registration papers.

"We need to check out Marco's dealership," Nikki said as they walked back up the weed-choked path. The woman's shouting and the kid's crying started again. "Did you notice the previous owner was listed as Jane Dough, spelled as in bread? I mean, really? How much intelligence can this Marco have? I get the feeling he's not a very upstanding citizen. Here, you drive." She tossed him the car keys. "You know you've got a real easy way with people. That's very useful for this job. Think I'll rename you Jason Silvertongue. What's your heritage?"

"Thank you." Jason gave a little bow as he slid into the driving seat. "By the way, how are things at home?"

Nikki noticed he didn't answer the question about his parents. She knew the twins were orphans, and wondered if he knew what talents his parents had possessed. She let it slide. Whatever his history, he wasn't ready to share it with her. "If you mean how are my mother and Juan getting along, well, they're trying, and it's fine at the moment. Her MS is in remission and Juan's away on business. He's a pharmaceutical rep and travels a lot, otherwise, even temporarily, this wouldn't work."

"I thought you seemed calmer," Jason said as he started the engine. "It can't be easy having your mother and your boyfriend in the same small apartment."

"Juan's back tomorrow, and we got two larger apartments lined up to view, so, fingers crossed. How's things with you?"

Jason grinned ruefully. "Well, as it turned out, last night's date was the best friend of Milly, and I went out with Milly on Tuesday. The second she realized I was that Jason, she threw her wine in my face and walked out. Ruined a good shirt, too."

"Do you think you'll ever want a serious relationship?"

"Yeah, sure. One day. When I'm ready."

"And I'm guessing that's not going to be anytime soon, eh?"

Jason was saved from answering as Marco's dealership came into view. They were on the outskirts of the city's old industrial district, and the area was full of empty rusting factories left for nature to reclaim as people moved from manufacturing to newer more lucrative businesses.

"This is shade-loka. Can't you feel them? I wouldn't want to be here at night." Nikki shivered.

The banner at the front of Marco's lot said 'Quality Cars for Cash' and was filled with used cars in various states of disrepair. A battered trailer, presumably the office, sat at the rear.

They threaded their way through the vehicles, most of which on closer inspection were ready for the junkyard, and found the owner sitting on the steps of his so-called office reading a dog-eared car magazine.

"Afternoon," he flashed a set of yellowing teeth below a thick graying mustache. "See anything you fancy, I'm open to negotiation." He stood to greet them, his sales pitch tripping off his tongue with practiced ease.

"Mr. Marco?" Jason asked.

"None other," he flashed the cheesy smile again. "And how can I help you, fine folks, today?"

Jason pulled out a card. "We're from Staywell Insurance, and one of our clients has made a claim. We're here to verify the client's information," he explained. He offered the business card to Marco for inspection.

Marco glanced at his hand and nodded. "So what's the name of your client?"

"Jane Dough," Jason said.

Marco's expression morphed from the phony salesman smelling a sucker to a hard-eyed shyster. "Don't recall any such customer. When did you say this was?"

"We didn't." Nikki stepped in front of Jason, catching Marco's attention.

His eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down and recognized she wasn't fully human. Before he could respond, Nikki leaned forward, fixed her silver-gray eyes on him, and froze him in place. "Who sold you that vehicle?" Her eyes held him motionless—he didn't even blink. "Tell me," she insisted.

"Perry White," Marco replied in a monotone.

"That's a good boy, Marco. You've been more than helpful. Sit and read your magazine and forget we were ever here. Enjoy the rest of your day."

Marco obediently sat and picked up reading where he'd left off, ignoring Jason and Nikki as they walked away.

"Wow, I'm impressed. That was a neat trick. Can you teach me how to do that?" Jason said as they returned to the car. "I feel sorry for Jack Bailey, but I'm sure Mr. Slipovatch will be happy to have his car back. "

"If we inform the police that is. "

Jason's eyes widened.

"What? I'm sure Slipovatch's insurance will provide him with a brand new car, and you think ol' Marco back there is going to refund Bailey his money?"

"Okay. It's your call. Are we mentioning this to the boss?"

"I think he's got enough on his plate right now. Maybe later, if your conscience is bothering you?"

"My conscience?" Jason snorted. "Hey, phone Zhanna and get her to look into this Perry White will you?" He turned up his jacket collar as a fine rain began to fall.

"Nope." Nikki's lips drew into a thin line.

"But I'm driving."

"I'll drive, and you can phone. After all, I obtained the info we needed."

"What is your problem?"

"The problem is Zhanna! That flying know-it-all interfering vain little splodge of a puffball!"

The puzzlement on Jason's face cleared, and he grinned. "Oh, I see."

Nikki glared at him. "Well, hurry up. I'm getting wet."

"No worries. I'll phone." He tossed her the car keys. Jason smiled, and his eyes twinkled as he spoke to Zhanna. She was back to him in less than a minute. "What a surprise. It seems this Mr. Perry White has a sister, one witch, of the name, Bathsheba."

# Chapter 7: Thursday 10 am

JB drained the last of his expresso and put aside the constant worry over his father. "Before the Sanderson soap opera begins, let's summarize what we know so far about the chalice case."

Gemma opened a giant box of donuts and pushed them into the center of the table.

As eager hands reached out to snatch favorites, Zhanna squeaked, "The one with the sprinkles is mine!" Today she'd assumed the guise of a CEO, her silver blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, smart black suit, and high heels.

JB talked right over the munching and smacking of lips and slurping of coffee. "First, we saw one of Hekate's witches, Bathsheba White, meet with a daemon at the Sweet Blood vamp nightclub last week. And I sensed something of a daemon presence when I talked with Hekate at the coven house the other day."

"You never mentioned d... d... daemons." Zhanna wings fluttered in anxiety. Daemons coveted faeries with a greed greater than that of humans for gold. "Yes, sorry Zhanna, I have a lot on my mind, and I didn't want to worry you till we found out a bit more. Anyway, I'm mentioning it now. Second, the same daemon was seen going in and out of the apartment block where one of the coven witches, Bathsheba White, lives. I think we can safely assume it was her he was visiting. And third, what this connection means, we still have to find out, but it's too much of a coincidence that Bathsheba's brother, Perry White recently sold the stolen car that tried to tail me. And the car that hit my father has disappeared from the face of the earth. Any thoughts, people?"

"Perhaps whoever stole the chalice, knew Hekate would ask your father to help, so increased their chances of success by removing him from the picture first?" Jason offered.

"Seems a convoluted way of doing things," Nikki answered.

"Unless that person already has a grudge against your father, and wanted to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak." Gemma chimed in.

"Yeah, literally kill." Zhanna scooped up a large dollop of icing loaded with sugar sprinkles. "Mmm," she licked a sprinkle and closed her eyes in ecstasy.

"Thank you for that, Zhanna. It's a possibility. My father has enemies for sure, but I can't exactly ask him who's the most likely candidate. After we finish with the Sanderson's we'll pair up–"

Gemma gave a loud sigh and rolled her eyes.

JB refused to be baited and continued. "Jason, you'll pair with Nikki, and stake out Perry White. By the way, good work yesterday. Zhanna will give you the address, and Gemma and I will sit on his sister. Zhanna how are we progressing with Hekate's database? Any other names we need to check out?"

"Thanks for everyone's help over the last two days, and especially Jason this morning," she waved her hand and a starburst of multicolored x's flew toward Jason, "I'm nearly finished. I have a few more names for consideration if the Bathsheba daemon connection turns out to be nothing but some crazy cross-species love affair."

"Good. Nikki, you'd better get going for your meeting with Mr. Sanderson."

The buzzer sounded.

"That'll be Mrs. Sanderson. Everyone say a prayer for me." JB looked around the workspace. The coffee cups and the donut box were empty. "Zhanna, buzz her in. Gemma, clear this lot away."

Zhanna flew over, and tapped the intercom, while Gemma glared at the offending items, choked back a sharp retort, and grudgingly did as ordered.

A minute later Mrs. Ellie Sanderson's stone gray Manolo Blahnik boots rapped a staccato across the floor as she extended a manicured hand to JB and displayed her dazzling dental work.

"Is that suit Chanel?" Zhanna whispered in Gemma's ear. "The black trim on that blue and gray tweed is divine."

Gemma flicked Zhanna into the air with a snort of derision. "I'll channel you and Barbie over there into the garbage with these boxes if you're not careful."

Zhanna eyed Gemma's uniform, the plaid shirt over T-shirt and jeans with equal scorn. "Anytime, grunge girl," she said and zoomed out of Gemma's reach.

"Good morning, Mrs. Sanderson, this way please." JB shook her fingertips, breathing in a hefty waft of over-sweet perfume. He gave Mrs. Sanderson's aura a quick check–a skill he rarely used as the results often ruined his day–and the amount of dull lifeless splotches in various parts of her body, indicating how much plastic surgery she'd had done, contrasted vividly with the bright shiny exterior she cultivated. He shut down his second sight.

"Oh, please. Call me Ellie. We're good friends now." She flicked her platinum extensions over her shoulder.

JB led the way toward the first of their two private consultation rooms situated at the opposite end to the kitchen and glanced back, his jaw dropping in horror as he observed Bob Sanderson rush into the office. He put his hand on Mrs. Sanderson's back, scooting her hurriedly inside and closed the door behind him. "Please, have a seat, Ellie. Let me get you a coffee."

"A double shot skinny latte, please. No foam."

"Right. Don't you move, and I'll be back in a minute." JB exited the room as Nikki noticed Mr. Sanderson. She gave their unexpected visitor a stiff grin and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"I know the meeting was at the Winston, but an emergency came up, and it seemed easier for me to drop in rather than call and make another appointment," Bob Sanderson said without a trace of apology. His biceps and pectorals bulged beneath a suit equally expensive as the outfit his wife wore. With his boyishly styled blonde streaked hair, he was the perfect jock and complement to his wife's cheerleader.

"That's absolutely fine, Mr. Sanderson." JB bustled up. "Nikki, use the second office, okay."

"Sure, sure. This way." Nikki recovered and grabbed the brown envelope she'd put in her satchel for her meeting at the Winston Hotel, before hustling Mr. Sanderson passed the room where his wife waited. "Sit, Mr. Sanderson," she said urging him inside the room. "I'll get you a coffee." She shut the door.

JB laid a hand on Nikki's arm and whispered, "Go real slow, and I'll be as quick as I can. I'll try to get her out before you finish with him. Hey, Gemma, a couple of coffees, and make one a skinny latte. Bring it to the office."

JB's request galvanized Gemma, Jason, and Zhanna into movement. The three of them had sat mesmerized watching as the carefully laid plan to avoid this particular situation evaporated.

"Wow, this case is turning out be far more interesting than I thought." Jason snickered.

Gemma stomped over to the coffee machine and pressed a few buttons. She handed Nikki Mr. Sanderson's drink, and as she picked up the second steaming coffee, Zhanna landed on her shoulder. Gemma almost dropped the cup in surprise. "Hey! Didn't I warn you not to do that stuff?"

"Watch." Zhanna waved her wand and whispered a few words. A second later, there was a flash, and a fine cloud of lime green powder floated down onto the coffee's surface, before vanishing.

"What are you doing?" Gemma hissed.

"She's a spoilt bitch and deserves this."

"What'll happen to her?"

"Give it a few hours, then... viola... projectile diarrhea."

Gemma giggled. "Oh, you are a very bad faerie! I think I'm beginning to like you."

Nikki walked ahead of Gemma back to the private offices, Bob Sanderson's coffee trembling slightly in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she paused outside the door. "I have a bad feeling this isn't going to work. He's in such a hurry."

"You can only try," Gemma said and entered JB's office.

JB had laid out the photographs, and Mrs. Sanderson was picking through them.

"Your special coffee," Gemma said as she placed the drink in front of the woman, and winked at JB as she left.

Ellie sipped her coffee, her little finger raised in salute and displaying a glossed golden fingernail. "Excellent coffee, your girl is good."

JB winced at her choice of words and banished the fleeting thought of Gemma as his girl. "We followed your brief to the letter, Mrs. Sanderson, and this is what we observed."

She continued to study the evidence in the photographs. "What's your conclusion? Was I right to have him followed?"

"Our job isn't to make judgments. All we do is collect evidence. Although in this case, the evidence is pretty conclusive."

Ellie Sanderson replaced the photographs in the envelope one at a time without saying a word. She looked at JB, her eyes cold, and her mouth a thin line. "A check okay?"

"Yes, a check is fine." JB clenched his hands together to stop himself from some impatient drumming on the table top while Ellie wrote out the check. The instant she handed it to him, he was up and ushering her out into the corridor.

"Ellie?"

Mrs. Sanderson spun around and gawped at her erstwhile spouse standing in the corridor.

Both simultaneously noted the brown envelope under the other's arm and registered its meaning.

"You two timing bastard!" she screamed and rushed toward him.

JB was quicker and caught her arm, half guiding and half pulling her along the corridor and away from her soon-to-be ex-husband as she continued to yell insults.

At that moment Nikki returned from the bathroom and joined Jason, Gemma, and Zhanna, who were gawping at the live entertainment.

"Your check is on the desk," Bob announced to no one in particular as he rushed past his wife to the exit.

Ellie Sanderson wrenched her arm free of JB's grip and dashed after her husband.

In the silence that followed their exit, the exchange of insults and responses could be clearly heard until they faded as the couple descended the stairs. The second the front door banged, everyone rushed over to the window and craned over each other to watch what happened next. Ellie Sanderson's mouth was still working overtime as she climbed into her chauffeur-driven limo and vented her ire. Bob Sanderson's face looked pale under his bed carrot-hued tanning-bed complexion, and he made several rude gestures at his future ex-wife's car as she drove off, before leaving in the opposite direction.

"On the upside, they're so angry with each other, they didn't have time to question how it was we were following both," Nikki commented.

"Maybe we should go into the marriage counseling business?" Jason said.

"You? A marriage guidance counselor? That's something I'd pay to see."

Jason looked miffed at his sister's comment, till Zhanna settled on his shoulder. "I'll always love you. You're wonderful, and I'm yours anytime." She stroked his earlobe.

Jason grinned, "Mmm," he said, "you know you're my favorite faerie, right?"

"Okay I hate to break up the party, but we have a job waiting," said JB. "Jason, Nikki, you're on Perry White. Zhanna, you're in charge of the office, take a nap when we leave." He looked at his phone. "And I got a text from Hekate reminding me there are only two more days before she meets the mayor. Gemma, you're with me–we'll take my car–but first I need to deposit these checks before either of them decide to cancel them."

#  Chapter 8: Thursday Midday

The sky was clear, and the air held a late autumn crispness. After stopping off at the bank, JB took a short detour to the hospital. "It's not that far out of our way, and I need to make a quick visit," he explained to Gemma.

He swung into the one empty parking space ahead of a large black SUV, whose driver glared daggers at him. Since he'd taken over the agency at the start of the year, between his caseload and JB Sr.'s dedication to his followers, he and his father hadn't seen much of each other. Meeting his grandfather the other night had created even more anxiety. "I won't be a sec."

"Can you get me a coffee? There must be a machine in there."

JB was true to his word, and it wasn't long before he returned.

"Must be hard seeing your father like that?" Gemma said as they drove out of the hospital. She sipped her large coffee and held a second cup for JB in her other hand.

"You think?"

Gemma bristled at his sarcasm. "Jason and I never knew our father. Or our mother. We only had other people's parents, and most of them, even the kindest ones didn't love us the way they did their own, no matter how hard they tried. Consider yourself lucky to have at least been brought up by your own parents."

JB said nothing for a minute. Sometimes, he reflected, your own miseries make you forget you're not the only one suffering. "Sorry, Gem. Sometimes my foot insists on shoving itself in my mouth."

Gemma went to answer, but his phone rang, and he held a finger up to silence her while he put the phone on speaker.

"JB, Perry is on the move. And we're following. Will keep you posted." They heard Nikki start the engine, and the call ended.

Ten minutes later, JB and Gemma parked down the road from Bathsheba's building, in a spot where they had a clear view of everyone coming in or out. They'd barely finished their coffees when a black Ford sedan arrived.

A young man got out, pulled his baseball cap further down over his face, and hurried into the apartment building.

"I'll bet you a month's salary, that's Perry White," JB said.

Gemma snorted.

A minute later, Nikki and Jason arrived and parked further along the block on the other side of the street.

"I guess you're right," Gemma muttered as she unwrapped a piece of gum and popped it in her mouth.

JB's phone rang. "Yes?" He put the phone on speaker.

"We all going to sit here?" Jason asked.

"Yes, Jason we are." He and Gemma exchanged looks. She rolled her eyes. "Stay on the phone."

At that moment, Perry appeared. Bathsheba, wearing a bright purple jacket and short matching skirt, tottered after him in a pair of stiletto heels, carrying a bulky backpack over her shoulder.

"Oh, good," Jason exclaimed. "They're off again, and she's carrying a suspiciously large bag."

"Gemma and I will follow them, you two stay here," JB told the other couple. "We need to know if anyone else from the coven visits and call me if that daemon appears."

"But we–"

"Got it, JB. Stay in touch." Nikki cut off Jason's objections.

Perry drove into the center of the city. He gave no sign he knew he was being tailed.

Traffic was heavy, and they almost lost sight of the black Ford when a stoplight turned red, and they didn't make it across the intersection. JB's fingers drummed a rhythm on the steering wheel till the lights changed. Fortunately, they spotted the vehicle, about half a dozen cars ahead stuck behind a large truck.

"This isn't the way back to his place," Gemma said.

"And I'm sure Jason's right—the chalice is in that backpack."

"I wonder why the daemon didn't take it yesterday."

"Good question, but one we'll never know the answer to. Maybe he had a hot daemon date?"

Gemma giggled at the joke. "That isn't funny."

"Yeah, sorry." Putting my foot in my mouth, making stupid jokes, yeah, JB told himself, you're sure going to impress her today.

Perry left the busy city center and entered a rather exclusive residential neighborhood. Modern glass-walled apartment blocks set in well-cultivated grounds, separated by large townhouses close to the central shopping and financial districts spoke of wealth.

"Hey, I can see tennis courts at the back of this one," Gemma exclaimed.

"Are you familiar this part of town?" JB asked.

"I went to a party once somewhere around here. Another disastrous relationship."

"Why another? Aren't you and what's his name ...?"

"That's old news."

Judging by her tone, JB felt discretion was the better course to take. He didn't want to intrude and their relationship didn't extend to asking intimate personal questions about each other's life outside work—yet. If Gemma wanted to share any details concerning her ex-boyfriend, he'd offer a sympathetic ear. He tried to feel sorry for her, but only experienced a lightening of his own mood. Perhaps when this case was done, he could ask her for a date. Nothing too intense—invite her out for a casual dinner or the movies.

"He's parking." Gemma's voice brought him out of his daydream and back to the present. "Park there." She pointed at a space on the opposite side.

"Yes, ma'am," JB smiled. He liked a woman who concentrated on the job and didn't get distracted.

Bathsheba, still clutching the bulky backpack and followed by her brother, walked along the neat shrub-edged path, glancing around before she entered the building. After five minutes, Perry reappeared. He made it to his vehicle in record time, the wheels screeching as he pulled out and drove off as if the hounds of hell were chasing him.

"That doesn't look good. You stay here, I'll find out which apartment she's gone to."

"Hey–"

JB cut her short. "We had this conversation the other night. And I need you to watch out and inform me if anyone else you recognize from the bar arrives. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Go on. I got it covered." Gemma watched JB walk toward the building. He was too bossy, but she admired the way he carried himself, his tall, wiry frame, and the ease with which he moved. He focused on his work, but every now and then, she caught a soft look on his face, and the sense of something hidden, something dark and dangerous that surrounded him intrigued her.

JB nodded at the uniformed security guard standing in the lobby, and ignoring the man's suspicious scrutiny, he marched over to the reception desk with brisk efficiency. An apartment block with a guard and a receptionist—guess you get what you pay for, he thought. "Excuse me."

The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with dyed blonde hair swept up in a sleek chignon, glanced up from her computer screen, taking in the well-worn leather jacket and untidy hair falling into his eyes. "Yes, how can I help?" Her tone implied she would do as little as possible.

Injecting a tad of glamour into his voice, he leaned forward. "My friend arrived here within the last few minutes. She's small, has short dark hair, and was wearing a purple suit. I was supposed to meet her, but I'm late. I need to know which apartment she went to."

The woman blinked, a look of confusion flickering in her eyes for a moment. Then she gave JB a bright smile. "Why, yes, of course, young man. She went to Mr. Gelon's apartment, that's 201 on the second floor. Elevators are over to your right. Take either of them."

"Thank you, ma'am. You've been very helpful."

"Everything's fine, Bill," she called out to the guard.

JB entered the waiting elevator and pressed the button. As the doors closed, he heard the soft ping of the second elevator door opening. After a minute in one of the most silent elevators he'd ever used, he stepped out into a long corridor with four polished redwood doors. The apartment he wanted was furthest from the elevator. He padded along the corridor, his senses prickling. Something was wrong. The door to 201 was open. He stopped short and gazed down at Bathsheba's body sprawled on the floor.

She must have fought hard, he observed, noticing the red high-heeled shoe still gripped in her hand. She lay on her back, her smart suit was ripped, and her neck was twisted at an impossible angle. Deep red burns marked where the daemon's hands had squeezed her throat, and taken her life. He could smell her flowery perfume underneath the panic and terror that spilled out from the room.

Pulling out his phone, he punched in 911 and waited. "Police? There's been a murder." As soon as he finished giving the dispatcher the address, his phone buzzed. "Gemma, there–"

"Hey, Bathsheba's pet daemon is getting into a car right now. And he's got the backpack with him. He's pulling out. If we lose him, we lose the chalice. I'm sending you a pic of the number, and I'm following him."

"Gem! No!" His phone went dead.

#  Chapter 9: Thursday 4 pm

"You damn pig-headed fool woman!" JB shouted at the phone as he dialed the office. "Listen, Zhanna, the daemon's name is Gelon, and he's murdered Bathsheba. Gemma's gone after him on her own, while I'm stuck here waiting for the police. Stay in contact with her and get her location." When he got his hands on Gemma, he'd wring her neck. And he couldn't even go after her, not because she'd taken his car, but leaving before the police arrived would be viewed as suspicious, and might even put him in the frame for murder. His pupils turned red, and the little flames that appeared when he was angry danced in the center. The last thing he needed was to draw unwelcome attention to himself. He breathed deeply for a few minutes and unclenched his fists.

An hour later Homicide Detective Barclay had taken his statement while two local police crime scene investigators took photos and gathered evidence. Fortunately, the detective had been more interested in the absent daemon, Gelon, and accepted JB's explanation for his presence—that he'd been following the deceased, as he believed she had information about a valuable item stolen from a client. He gave them Hekate's number if they needed confirmation, and Barclay hadn't inquired too deeply into the details of the missing object, for which he was grateful. Hekate wouldn't be happy with him if that information emerged into the public domain.

Restless and keen to leave, he paced up and down the corridor, out of sight of Bathsheba's body. His calls to Gemma had gone straight to voicemail. He churned the same questions over and over in his mind. What if something happened to her? Why wasn't she answering her calls? She'd gone after a daemon powerful enough to stay on earth for days at a time, who almost certainly had the chalice, and seemed to be busy getting rid of anyone who could lead a trail back to him. He clenched his jaw so hard he felt his teeth grind.

"Okay, that's it Mr. Lucerne," the detective told him at last. "Thanks for your cooperation. We'll be calling in the super squad, and they'll contact you if they have any more questions."

JB turned up the collar of his leather jacket as he exited the apartment block. The wind had picked up, and autumn was undeniably saying good-bye as winter edged in the door. He set off toward the center of town where he could pick up a taxi. He called Zhanna. "Any news from Gemma?"

"Yes, she rang a short while ago. So did Hekate." The faerie placed a notable stress on the first syllable. "She sounded hysterical. Don't you check your messages? We have two more days to solve the case." Her voice squeaked, the way it did when something disturbed her.

"Calm down, Zhanna. I want to know where Gemma is."

"I don't know where she is."

JB growled, scrolling through his messages. "Zhanna ...?"

"Okay, okay. The daemon went to an address—didn't you get my message? It's over in Clover–that sounds like a lovely place to live–"

"Zhanna, get to the point."

"As I was saying, I also sent you the name of the person who lives there, but Gemma said the daemon didn't stay long. Her last call said she'd keep following him."

JB found Zhanna's message. "Thanks, I'll be in touch." He cut off and stared at the name. Lazlo Westermore. He knew that name and rolled it around his head for a minute. Then he remembered. His father had had dealings with the minor wizard not so long ago and hadn't spoken favorably about the man, but if Gelon had visited, he might know where the demon was headed. He called Nikki. "Get a cab and meet me at Buttercup Lane, in Clover. Jason can wait at Perry's place for him. He can handle him alone. Be quick."

JB spent a half hour of impatient thumb twiddling, leaving more messages, and inhaling enough oxygen for a team of Olympic swimmers in an effort to calm himself before Nikki stepped out of a taxi, and he paid the driver. He didn't want to consider how much these rides were taking out of Sanderson's check. If they broke this case, they'd be fine, but until then every cent was as precious as gold dust. He tried not to worry about Gemma. Zhanna was in contact with her. He'd have to trust them both, and they were making progress on the case.

JB and Nikki headed down the small lane on the outskirts of Tropolis. A row of single and two-storied ranch-style houses lined one side of the road, facing a picturesque view of open fields and woodlands on the other. The fresh breeze carried autumn smells of damp earth and leaves whirled and danced as they fell from branches.

"So who are we going to see?" Nikki asked.

"A wizard, Lazlo Westermore. Ever heard of him? We want number thirty-five."

"You know we don't hang out with those guys. They still bang on about imp familiars and keep trying to enslave us. It gets annoying."

JB's eyes were hard, and he gave a grim smile.

"Zhanna gave me an update. Where's Gemma now?"

"Trailing Gelon. I wonder if that's his true name? If it is, it shows how little he cares about being caught."

"That's not good. Hey, where's number thirty-five? The last house we passed was thirty-four."

JB looked at the number on the door. Thirty-six. "Oh, that's clever."

They turned around and retraced their steps. This time, they felt the spell; a mixture of repulsion that urged them to hurry passed, and a generous dollop of invisibility so they didn't notice the house. They stopped and studied the building. The paintwork was fresh, and inside the yard, not a single leaf could be seen. The dwelling was as well-kept as every other residence in Buttercup Lane. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.

"It's a ward. Can't you sense it?" JB asked.

Nikki stretched out her arm. "Ouch!" She blew on her fingers. "Nasty!"

"Come on, it's time to release the beast."

Nikki winked at him. "Like old times, eh?"

JB grinned back. Taking Nikki's hand, he powered up a shield and they opened the gate onto the neat and tidy path leading up to the front door. A sharp prickling on the back of their necks warned them they were passing through the warding spell.

Once inside the ward, the exterior of the property was dilapidated with faded paintwork, and rusty window and door frames. "Nothing says I'm different from my neighbors like letting your home turn into a rundown junk pile," Nikki commented as they studied the overgrown front yard. "I guess he figures keeping a ward in place is less effort than looking after his property."

Lazlo Westermore, a dapper little man with a long droopy salt and pepper mustache, a receding hairline, and bright walnut brown eyes, opened the door as they approached. "Jean-Baptiste Jr., to what do I owe the honor of your presence in my humble abode?"

JB detected the faintest of tremors in the wizard's voice and grinned, though it was more of a grimace. He didn't answer but pushed past the wizard and into the hallway.

Nikki marched right behind and gave the wizard a full view of her sharpened teeth.

Lazlo followed them into a small living room, where a table overflowed with books and papers and the remnants of a week's takeaway boxes. The windows appeared to be welded shut, and the air was stale and musty. The wizard cleared his throat. "How's your father these days? Not so good I hear."

JB pivoted and grabbed Lazlo by his sweater, lifted him off his feet, and thrust his face close to the wizard. "I don't want my father's name to pass your lips. I may only be a quarter fire daemon, but I'm more than you'll ever be able to handle." He released Lazlo and shoved him into the nearest chair. "For starters, we know a daemon visited you earlier today. What did he want?"

"Who? What daemon? It's against the law to deal with daemons."

Nikki moved to stand behind the chair. "Don't be coy, Lazlo. We're here to help you." She stroked the thinning hair on the top of his head, twining a few strands around one of her long taloned fingers.

Lazlo shuddered.

"Do you think my grandfather would mind paying a quick visit?" JB glanced at Nikki.

"I'm sure he can spare a few moments. You are family."

JB pulled out his phone, "Lucky I've got him on speed dial."

Lazlo paled, and his eyes widened as he watched JB press a few buttons. "Okay, okay. Please, don't call Ascepius. I'll tell you everything."

JB put the phone away. "I'm listening."

The wizard took a deep breath. "Chas Fachio approached me, asking if I could steal the Lielit coven's precious chalice."

"Why?"

"Do you know who Chas Fachio is? You don't ask the leader of the city's most powerful crime gang why he wants something. As it happened, I wasn't able to break Hekate's wards, so I hired a daemon."

"And where's the daemon, and the chalice now?"

"How should I know? Fachio's orders were to steal the chalice. He wasn't interested in what happened to it afterward. Told me to do what I wanted with it, but I wasn't going to keep it, 'cos you can bet sooner or later Hekate would track it down. I'm assuming Gelon returned home and took it with him. It's probably decorating his mantelpiece. Anyway, I paid him and he left."

"Who's this Gelon's master?"

"I have no idea. I don't possess enough power to force a daemon to tell me that kind of stuff."

JB leaned forward. Tiny golden flames danced in his glowing red pupils. "Who. Is. His. Master?" He flicked his left wrist, and a slim silver dagger slipped from his jacket sleeve down into his hand.

"Wow, it's been a while since I have seen that blade," Nikki said. "Brings back memories."

"Yes, a couple of months ago, my father finally saw fit to return my mother's gift."

JB Sr. had been so mad when his son had taken the knife to high school for protection against a gang that was targeting him, he'd confiscated it, and sworn his son couldn't be trusted with such a powerful weapon, even if his mother had trained him in its use. Fighting normals with a supernatural blade could have gotten him a very long period of incarceration.

JB gripped the handle, concentrated, and sent a pulse of energy down into the blade. Sigils beneath the surface flickered and glowed with energy.

Lazlo stared, transfixed by the blade and tried to retreat as far from the tip as possible.

JB placed his right hand on Lazlo's chest and felt the rapid thump of the wizard's heartbeat. He pressed the point of the blade into the skin over the wizard's heart and sent another pulse of power.

Lazlo's eyes bulged as his body arched, his heart somersaulted and felt as if it were about to explode out of his chest. "Pythios," he gasped. "Gelon's master is Pythios."

"There," JB patted him on the cheek, "that wasn't so hard, was it? Okay, one more question." He pressed Lazlo back into the chair. "Did Chas Fachio order Perry White to run down my father?"

"I swear I told you everything I know." Sweat ran down his face, and his gaze remained fixed on the razor sharp knife-edge still perilously close to his skin.

"Do you believe he's telling the truth?" JB glanced up at Nikki.

"One more jolt should wring it out of him if he's lying. Don't you think, little wizard?" She tapped her fingernails on Lazlo's forehead.

"Please, please." He begged. "I have a weak heart, and I know nothing about your father's accident, but it has nothing to do with me." His lips quivered and his arms and legs twitched as he shook with fear. "Please don't do that thing again."

JB stared into his eyes, "If I discover you've lied I will come after you, and believe me, it doesn't matter where you hide, I will find you." He tucked the knife up into his sleeve.

The wizard sagged in relief.

"Come on, Nikki, let's go catch us a daemon."

#  Chapter 10: Thursday 8.30 pm

JB had barely put a foot inside the office door when Jason approached him.

"Where's Gemma?" Jason's face was two inches from JB's. "She's not answering my calls." He glared at Nikki standing in the hallway.

"Let me in and I'll tell you what I know." JB kept his voice low and patient as he walked into the office. Jason's behavior was understandable, they were all wound up about the situation, but fighting each other wouldn't help Gemma.

Zhanna had changed her outfit, a sure sign her anxiety levels had increased and were now in skateboard mode with baggy jeans, sweatshirt, sneakers, and sun-bleached dreads. She hovered nearby, her wings fluttering at a mile a minute.

JB ran his hands through his hair. Jason should still be watching Perry White, but he'd let that slide seeing as how it would have been concern over his sister that brought him back here. "Okay. Here's what I've got. In case everyone's not up to speed, the daemon's name is Gelon, and he murdered Bathsheba before he took the chalice and fled. Gemma saw him leave after I'd gone in the building–he must have been going down in one elevator, while I went up in the other–and followed him. Have we heard from her yet?"

"Why didn't you stop her?" Jason demanded, tense with worry for his twin.

"She was under strict instructions to stay where she was, but she didn't listen."

"Typical Gem. Always impulsive; racing off and throwing herself into things without thinking." Jason backed off. "But the authorities have the plate number, right? Zhanna, anything over the police scanners yet?"

JB glowered at Zhanna. "So now we're listening to police communications, are we?"

"Don't be cross, JB. It's only 'cos we want to know if they locate Gelon, and we figure Gemma will be nearby. But the only thing we caught was a report of two abandoned cars somewhere near the airport." Her wings fluttered so fast JB felt a distinct breeze, and the papers on the desk lifted an inch into the air. "But they've not mentioned any license numbers yet, so we don't know if either of them is yours."

"Can we sit down? Please?" He looked at Jason. "And make a plan."

"Coffee, Jason, JB?" Nikki asked.

"You're an angel," JB responded, and they sat while Nikki pressed buttons and carried fresh coffee over to the table. She went back and brought a glass of sugar water for Zhanna in a tumbler almost as tall as the faerie, complete with a Mickey Mouse straw for her to use. They needed her to stay awake.

"Listen, Jason, I didn't tell the police that Gemma had followed Gelon because they won't do anything. And they won't waste police time and money on looking for a car that might turn up at any minute."

"I still say we should tell them she followed that, that ... monster. He's already killed, one woman. Gem could be in all kinds of trouble." Jason blinked away the sudden excess water in his eyes and sniffed.

"We know they're looking for his car," Zhanna perched on Jason's shoulder, and patted his cheek. "And if she didn't lose him, then she'll be nearby."

"And if he shook her off, she'll come back here," added Nikki.

"Plus, they're calling in the super squad, so the less we have to do with that bunch, the better." JB glanced at Nikki, who shuddered.

Although most supernatural species played their part in contributing to society, daemons were still unwelcome—their predatory nature preventing anything other than a one-sided relationship with all other races. Hybrid offspring, in particular, those from daemon and human relationships, often ended up sacrificed to science for experiments or in mental asylums where religiously inclined psychiatrists attempted to exorcise their daemonic aspects.

"I've also contacted my grandfather."

Nikki's eyebrows shot up. "Is that wise? I thought you were using his name purely as a threat before."

"What's his grandfather got to do with this?" Jason demanded.

"He's a really really high-ranking daemon."

Zhanna let out a piercing squeak, her wings flashed faster sending out bright gold sparks, and she dug her nails into Jason's ear.

"Let go," he squealed and attempted to pry her tiny fingers from his earlobe without hurting her.

"Zhanna! Calm down." JB ordered. "You're not helping. You're here on the orders of the Faerie Queen. Even daemons don't want that kind of trouble."

Zhanna relaxed her hold on Jason's ear. "Sorry, I was frightened." She touched his skin with her wand, "There, better?"

Jason ignored her. "This is the plan? Your old grandfather is going to totter in here and save the day? Please explain, in detail, how will he manage that?"

"Jason, stop it! If anyone can find out where Gemma is, it's JB." Nikki's sharp words brought Jason up short. "We understand why you're worried, she's your twin sister, but we care for her too," she added more softly, and glanced at JB.

Jason had the grace to look contrite.

"What did her last message say? Everyone check your phones," Nikki ordered.

"Oh, I got a call," JB said. "Sorry, it came when I was talking with the police. I'll put it on speaker." He avoided looking at Jason, put his mobile on the table, and everyone leaned forward to listen.

"Hi, JB. I've got him in my sights." Gemma spoke fast. "We're near the airport."

Her words were muffled by heavy traffic and the roar of an airplane as it passed over the freeway.

"He's pulling over. I'm going to pass him and-"

A loud crashing noise ended the message, and the phone went dead.

"Nikki, check the nearest hospital, and if she's not been admitted there, call every hospital. She might be at any one of them," JB ordered.

"Zhanna, check the police scanner again. It sounds like those two dumped cars might be Gelon's and Gemma's. I mean mine. Hack into aerial surveillance if you can."

"If I can?" She snorted in derision, buzzed over to her laptop, and her wand blurred across the keyboard.

"I'm sorry, Jason. I should have checked my calls earlier, but I swear we'll get your sister back no matter what it takes." JB's heart flip-flopped at the thought of Gemma lying injured somewhere in the hands of a daemon or worse. He squashed the image of her lying dead at the wheel of his car.

"No admissions of anyone resembling Gemma's description at the nearest hospital to the airport," Zhanna piped in, "but I got something else. Gemma sent me a pic of the daemon's plate number before she followed him, and it's registered to Perry White, indicating he and his sister's involvement with this daemon is deeper than we thought."

JB's phone rang before he could respond. He listened, uttered a few sympathetic noises, then hung up. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, Jason was staring at him. "It's not about Gemma," he said.

"Not sure if that's good or bad," Jason answered.

"Zhanna! Come here," he ordered.

Zhanna flew slowly over, hovered in front of JB, and stared indignantly at him. "I don't like the tone of your voice. What is it?"

"That was your Most Gracious Royal Monarch." Something dangerous in JB's voice caught Nikki and Jason's attention. "What have you been up to?"

"Me? I've done nothing but follow your orders." She drifted down to the table, put her hands on her hips, and tossed her dreads over her shoulder.

"Then why is the Faerie Queen accusing you of hosting a human-faerie dating website?"

"Working in this dreary office of yours is a bad enough sentence. Why would I want to do something like that and jeopardize my situation?"

"I have no idea, but I'll sure find out once Gem's back here in one piece. In the meantime, get back to work." JB sighed with frustration. As if he didn't have enough on his plate without faerie shenanigans—the trouble the wee creatures could cause was way out of proportion to their size. But any thoughts he might have had fled as he heard the newly familiar soft popping sound announcing his grandfather's arrival.

Ascepius, smoke rising from the cigar in his hand, and immaculate in a white linen suit and Panama hat looking as if he'd stepped off a yacht in the Bahamas, surveyed the scene.

The shimmering portal pffed shut behind him.

Jason's mouth dropped open in horror, Nikki's eyes were glued to him, and Zhanna disappeared in a burst of sparks.

"So, this is where you work?" Ascepius exhaled a cloud of blue smoke, as his gaze swept around the room.

"Yes, and thank you for coming, grandfather–"

"Please, call me Ascepius. And is that Faerie I smell?" He lifted his head and sniffed appreciatively. "It's been a long time since I've had the pleasure. Where is the delicate creature?"

The daemon radiated heat, and Jason unzipped his sweater and dabbed at the sweat forming on his forehead.

Nikki noticed and hid a smile. Thanks to their genes, neither she nor JB were bothered by the sudden increase in temperature.

"Ascepius, I need your help."

The daemon smiled. "Of course, why else would you call? And in what capacity may I assist you?"

"We need to find this daemon." He scrolled through his phone and pulled up the photo of Gelon and Bathsheba leaving her apartment. "He goes by the name Gelon. We know he's killed this woman, and we've got good reason to believe he's kidnapped Jason's sister, Gemma." He nodded in Jason's direction.

Jason's skin had a flushed rosy glow, he'd taken off his sweater, and began coughing as he rolled up his shirt sleeves.

"They both work for me. And we've been informed his master is called Pythios. Have you heard of him?"

Ascepius's smile wasn't comforting. "Yes, Pythios is an acquaintance, and FYI, as you, JB, are family, your servants also fall under my protection." He blew another stream of smoke after his first. "Come." he moved across the room, or rather seemed to blink from one place to another, reappearing next to JB. With a flick of his fingers, he popped open a portal behind him. "Time for you to meet your relatives." He gripped JB's arm and hauled him through the eerily shifting glistening gateway.

#  Chapter 11: Time Unknown

The bruising burn on the arm gripped by his grandfather paled in insignificance as a sensation akin to nails scraping on a blackboard raked his skin, inside and out. Thin slivers of red light stabbed his eyes, and he shut them tight. He opened his mouth to scream, but it was over and the sight that met his eyes stunned him into silence.

He stood on the bottom steps of a stairway that led up to a three-storied art deco house, with paintwork so blindingly white in the hot bright sunlight it hurt his eyes, and he had to squint to see anything.

The central structure bore the familiar soft round shape typical of the style, and was flanked on the right by an elegant wing of the same height, and on the left, by a stylish single story extension. Placed in extensive grounds, the garden contained a substantial variety of desert cacti set in reddish sand. The sun beat down on his head out of a cloudless pale pink sky, and the air contained the faintest trace of sulfur.

"Mi casa es su casa," Ascepius waved toward his residence. "The swimming pool is out back if you care to indulge?"

JB blinked, and pinched his wrist hard. Nope, the 1930's architect's dream hadn't moved. "Not right now. I need to find Gemma."

"I can tell you've got my blood in your veins—business first, eh?" He displayed his brilliantly white sharp fangs in a wide smile.

JB followed Ascepius up the stairway, appreciating the coolness of the marble under his touch, and in through the grand arched entrance. From what he observed, the interior continued in the same elegant style, and no expense had been spared. As he followed his grandfather, JB's head periscoped from side to side taking in the opulent rooms bordering the hallway. "Is this Hell?" he asked.

Ascepius laughed, a loud booming sound that bounced off the walls. "This isn't the only hellish planet. We have a number of them." He ushered JB into what appeared to be a study. The walls were lined with bookcases and a black oak table contained a desktop computer with a sizeable screen, a couple of chairs, and a couch. "You humans don't know how lucky you are that the chemical composition of your atmosphere is inimical to my species." He shot a calculating look at JB.

JB had the feeling his grandfather was testing him, but he refused to be intimidated. "How come you can visit then?"

"The more powerful the daemon, the longer we can remain. Is your breathing okay?"

JB took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Seems fine."

"Yes, even a quarter daemon means you should be able to cope with our atmosphere. Tell me if you start having difficulty."

JB hoped the situation wouldn't arise. He wanted to find Gemma and leave before any such complications occurred. "So how powerful is Gelon?"

"Not very. There are certain spells that extend a lesser daemon's ability to stay on your world." He nodded at the bookshelves.

JB wondered if these were rare tomes of arcane literature and if he'd get the chance to study a few.

"And most wizards know a few incantations that allow a daemon to stay until a particular task is accomplished."

Ah, thought JB, so Lazlo did more than summon Gelon. "Is it normal for daemons to kill their accomplices?"

Ascepius shrugged. "That varies. It wouldn't have been something he thought about much. Most likely an impulse." Ascepius pulled a cord hanging by the window, and a servant winked into the room.

"Yes, master?" A smaller red-brown daemon, dressed like a butler with a starched white shirt, bow tie, black suit, and neatly sharpened horns appeared. He bowed to Ascepius and glanced at JB, dismissing him at once as unimportant.

JB ignored the subtle insult. He was here for one thing only. Well, two things. But he had no intention of ever returning once he had what he came for.

"Call Pythios. Tell him to come right away."

The butler bowed again, "Yes, master," and winked out.

"Come here, Jean-Baptiste."

JB crossed the study, stood next to his grandfather and gazed out over the huge back yard. He shook his head and blinked a few times as sensory overload stunned his mind.

"You see there, over by the pool? Those fine specimens are your cousins."

At least a dozen daemons were gathered around an Olympic-size swimming pool. Some were older, some younger, some bigger, some smaller, and they came in a variety of shades from pale bronze to deep copper. Several sprawled on deck chairs sipping drinks, while others swam, and a bunch of youngsters engaged in a dunking game. Other than the reddish hue that painted the sky, the earth, and even the water, and apart from the horns on their heads and their elongated razor claws, this might be any group of adolescent and young males come together to enjoy themselves. There were no females in sight.

"But today you're here on business, and between you and me, they may not view you with kindness. They are still a mite jealous of what they perceive as my favoritism of your father."

Favoritism? His father hadn't mentioned that as a reason for the treatment he received from his daemonic relations when visiting. But then, he had no idea how a daemon father showed his partiality. A knock on the door drew his attention away from his relatives. He gave a silent sigh of relief at being spared the questionable pleasure of meeting his cousins.

"Enter," Ascepius called.

"Pythios to see you, master," the butler announced, opening the door for the visitor.

JB was surprised the guest hadn't simply manifested, but maybe there was an etiquette that had to be observed when daemon masters visited each other.

Pythios wasn't as tall or as muscular as Ascepius. His eyes flicked continually around the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. He didn't appear keen to meet Ascepius's gaze.

JB wondered why he was so nervous. Was his grandfather so ruthless that other daemons trembled in his presence? That worked for him, especially if it made finding Gemma easier.

"How long have we known each other, Pythios?"

"Since we were pups."

JB pictured litters of tiny daemons snarling and ripping at each other till one dominated the others. He shuddered.

Ascepius opened a drawer in the desk and took out a remote control device. Pointing it at a huge painting on the opposite wall, he pressed a button. The painting slid aside revealing an outsized wall-mounted screen.

JB's mouth dropped open. Were there any items these daemons weren't able to acquire? How did they get the stuff here? Was there a door-to-door delivery via portal service? Did you pay extra for next day delivery?

"Is he one of yours?" Ascepius asked as he brought up the clip of Bathsheba and Gelon in the vampire bar.

Pythios walked up to the screen and studied the picture.

Ascepius zoomed in on a tattoo of a curved sigil on Gelon's upper arm, an inch below his T-shirt sleeve.

"Yes, he's mine. A lower rank, the name is Gelon. He's ambitious and unscrupulous."

JB doubted there was any other type of daemon. How could a scrupulous daemon possibly achieve success in Hell?

"I want him. Where is he now?"

"I believe he's at the Games."

"What's the prize this week?"

"A human female."

"A human female?" Ascepius repeated, his voice a soft murmur.

"What–" JB interrupted, but his grandfather held up his hand, and JB found he couldn't speak.

"I want her." The more Ascepius lowered his voice, the lower Pythios's head bowed in subservience.

"Of course, Ascepius. Your wish is my command." He checked his watch—a smaller Rolex than his grandfather's. "The Games are about to start, so we'd better get moving."

Ascepius waved his hand again, and the band squeezing JB's throat eased. Please, dear God, he sent a prayer skyward, if you could get Gemma and me back to planet earth, I promise I'll set up a direct debit for St. Bartholomew's orphanage. He'd stopped believing God paid any attention to his prayers after his mother fell ill, and he was pretty sure He didn't accept bribes, but it was worth a try. JB felt the burn from Ascepius's grip on his arm, this time, the left one—at least he'd have matching brands, he thought, and with a pop, a pff, and a scrape of nails through his innards, the three of them left his grandfather's mansion.

#  Chapter 12: Time Unknown

JB thought he'd lost his sanity as his brain refused to accept the nightmare truth of the scene. He, Ascepius, and Pythios stood on the highest tier of an enormous red sandstone amphitheater packed full of roaring daemons out for what appeared to be the local equivalent of the Saturday baseball game. His agitated vision picked out clusters of older and younger daemons passing large containers back and forth of what had to be some kind of intoxicant judging by the jeers and yells that accompanied the drinking. He saw family groups buying trays of something he didn't want to identify from sellers who paraded up and down the aisles, adding their sales pitch to the din.

Two hulking fiery-faced daemons seated nearby turned around, and their red-flamed eyes zoomed in on JB. His heart started to thud as they snarled at him, but Ascepius draped a heavy arm around JB's shoulders, a public declaration that this human was under his protection.

The two antagonists subsided. Ascepius was evidently not to be trifled with.

JB wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but he breathed a little easier.

The clamor dwindled, and everyone settled down to watch as the entertainment started.

"This way." Pythios led them along the walkway behind the back tier.

Ahead JB noticed a raised balcony where a daemon stood gazing over the multitude. Oddly enough, the microphone in his hand didn't look out of place. There was something familiar about the figure, but an eruption of cheers and heckles from the audience drew his attention to the arena floor where a dozen naked horned and taloned daemons raced into the stadium. Their bodies glistened with oil and as a horn blasted, they paired off. The horn rent the air a second time and the combatants flew at each other and began wrestling.

JB stared, transfixed. This must Hell's version of gladiatorial sport.

JB felt Ascepius's hot breath in his ear. "Death wrestling isn't a sport. These have been caught breaking our laws, and none but the final winner will walk away from here alive."

JB was surprised to hear daemons had laws, but the phrase 'death wrestling' needed no explanation. "Oh."

"We have no word for sport in our language," his grandfather continued. "The word sport means prey in our tongue. And you'll notice there aren't any referees."

JB hadn't noticed, but, yeah, the whole fight till death fitted in with what his father had told him about daemons.

"Quick, our target has spotted us." Ascepius tapped JB's shoulder, and he loped after Pythios toward the MC's platform.

JB had been so dumbfounded by the scene taking place below him, he'd lost focus, but now he realized why the figure had looked familiar—it was Gelon. An image of Gemma teasing him in the vamp bar rose in his mind, and as anger fueled his legs, he raced after Gelon, who disappeared through an exit at the back of the booth.

Ascepius, Pythios, and JB sped after their target into a dim passageway, the only sound the muted slapping of their feet on the sand dusted floor, and the panting wheeze of JB's chest as he gasped for air. His legs moved fast enough to keep up with the two master daemons, but whether it was the chemical composition of the air or not, he was finding it harder to breathe as they gained on their quarry.

The passage darkened as it bent to the left, and JB couldn't tell for sure, but he would swear it was getting hotter.

Gelon was nowhere to be seen.

"Watch out!" yelled Pythios, and Ascepius shoved JB behind him as a loud explosion cracked the air a few meters in front of them, and flames licked up the walls, scorching the ceiling.

JB's hair was singed, his skin was flushed with heat, and his eardrums shattered.

Ascepius gave JB a quick once over and appeared satisfied his grandson was still in one piece. "Good," he said as they moved on again. "If that's the best he's got this daemon's spells are of no substance. He is full of bluster."

They might not have any substance as far as you're concerned, thought JB, but I sure felt it. His vision had blurred, and he was certain his hearing must be damaged for life, as they belted around another corner and spotted Gelon in the distance.

Time and time again, as they pursued the daemon further and further into the bowels of the amphitheater, Ascepius thrusting JB behind him, as he and Pythios bore the brunt of Gelon's attacks. JB recalled his father once mentioning something about daemon 'honor'. Apparently, while they could eviscerate each other as much as they wished inside a family, it was considered dishonorable to allow outsiders the same privilege. But to JB, continuing to chase Gelon made little sense when a blast from either of the master daemons could finish him.

The tunnel was now almost devoid of light and the heat was unbearable. He started to lag behind and knew he wasn't thinking straight anymore. Ascepius grabbed his arm. JB didn't protest, but let his grandfather drag him along, as he focused on keeping one foot moving in front of the other, and staying upright. This wasn't his world, he had little power here, and while he realized his grandfather could throw him over his shoulder and it wouldn't slow him at all, he was grateful to be spared that humiliation.

Pythios and Ascepius kept up the relentless chase as the subterranean passage narrowed, and they continued to deflect Gelon's attacks with ease. The message was clear: they didn't consider him a challenge, were enjoying the chase, and it was merely a matter of time before they apprehended him. They came to a halt at a split in the passageway.

JB was glad for the respite.

"Oh, that's a tricksy move," said Ascepius. "He's used a cloaking spell. Well, anything for a little more fun. Pythios you take the right, we'll go left."

"Signal me if you spot him."

"Of course."

JB had somehow gained a second wind, or else his daemon aspect had increased with the close physical contact with Ascepius. Or maybe being in this place was enough to do that, but he was now able to keep up with his grandfather as they ran along the ever-narrowing passageway. His eyes had also adjusted, and a dim reddish light filled the subway.

They turned a corner and came to a dead end.

"Well, it seems Pythios has the luck on this occasion." Ascepius's eyes gleamed with annoyance at being deprived of his prey. "We'd better head back," and he set off at the same relentless pace back up the tunnel.

JB turned to follow when an arm across his throat lifted him off his feet, choking him. His fingers scrabbled at the rock-hard muscled arm throttling him and he tried to call his grandfather, but all that came out was a gagging sound as Gelon tightened his hold.

"Keep still, you maggoty little human worm." Gelon's breath was hot in his ear. "We're waiting for your granddaddy to notice your absence."

JB stilled as the daemon pressed his arm tighter against his throat and held a wickedly curved scimitar to the side of his chest where it would pierce his heart after it sliced through his ribcage. There wasn't a lot else he could do with his toes barely touching the floor, and his life being squeezed out of his body.

The familiar pff and popping sound of a portal opening came from behind them, and Gelon whipped around, shuffling back as Ascepius appeared.

"And there I was, thinking we could come to an amicable arrangement." Ascepius's tone was casual. More like how many sugars do you like in your tea, rather than get your hands off my grandson's neck, you murdering fiend.

"You don't fool me, Ascepius." Gelon's voice grated, as his arm tightened. "No one in their right mind would trust you to keep a promise."

JB saw stars at the edge of his vision. Visiting his daemon relatives wasn't going anywhere near as well as he'd hoped.

"Well, I am a daemon and that's my nature." Ascepius smiled broadly and winked at JB. "But I can offer you a quick death instead of flaying the skin off your body, and a slow evisceration of your organs in reverse order of importance." His grandfather examined his nails before returning his attention to Gelon.

A creeping darkness replaced the little sparkly lights at the edge of JB's sight, and the wheezing noise filling his ears came from his lungs as they desperately gasped for more air.

"You do realize don't you, that if you strangle him, you'll lose your leverage?" Ascepius sounded bored.

Gelon responded by easing the pressure a tad.

JB's ability to see improved as air rushed into his lungs again.

"You'll deal with Pythios?"

JB clenched and stretched the fingers of his left hand.

"Why do you even ask when you know who is the greater daemon."

"What terms do you offer?" Gelon nerves gained the better of him, and his grip on JB's neck tightened. The hand holding the scimitar trembled as if he was a junkie in detox.

JB's vision blackened again.

Ascepius pointed at JB's neck and wriggled his finger, his expression that of letting someone know they had a crumb or two stuck in their beard after eating.

Gelon released the pressure.

"What do you have in mind?" Ascepius checked his Rolex as if he were running late for an appointment.

JB wriggled his left fingers and the tip of his knife scraped against his skin as it slid down into his hand.

"First off, I want the human female. She's mine by right of–" Gelon's voice rose in a scream as JB plunged his dagger into the daemon's side.

#  Chapter 13: Time Still Unknown

JB staggered forward as Gelon abruptly released his hold.

Ascepius blurred into motion and thrust JB behind him.

The end was brief. Gelon stood with his back to the wall, his legs shaking, and one hand clutching his side as a slow trickle of black ichor leaked from the stab wound. His face twisted with fear, his lips curling with hate as he looked at JB. In one last effort, he flung his hands toward them, but he'd exhausted his power and all he managed were a few dull sparks.

Ascepius's laugh echoed through the enclosed space. He raised his hand, uttered a few syllables, and lazily tossed a spell at Gelon.

The daemon made a desperate attempt to defend himself, but he might as well not have bothered as the web of metal lacing settled over him freezing him with his arms raised, and unable to move even an eyelid.

Ascepius turned to JB, a wide grin on his face. "We make a great team, you and I. We must do this again some time."

A popping sound and Pythios appeared. "Good," he said as he took in Gelon's frozen posture. His eyebrows rose at the sight of the wound.

"Thank you, I'll take it from here," Ascepius informed him.

"As–" but Pythios's reply was drowned out by the loud pounding of footsteps coming toward them along the passageway.

The three of them turned as half a dozen uniformed daemons armed with tridents and spears appeared.

"Security," Ascepius whispered. "Law and order. What are we coming to?"

"Hold." An officer stepped forward, his expression halfway between fear of what were evidently two far more powerful daemons, and the need to do his job without offending them. "For what reason do you disturb the Games?"

"This Gelon is a criminal," Pythios nodded at the hapless prisoner, whose impression of a statue under Ascepius's hex rendered him a pathetic specimen of his race, "who was about to escape. We apprehended him before he did so."

The guard hesitated, intimidated by Pythios's confidence, but nonetheless continued. "What crime do you accuse him of?"

"I am his master, and he has conspired against me," Pythios answered, showing his tattooed sigil, and pointing to the replica on Gelon's arm.

"He also broke the Law, Code 1145 section C and 8110 section A, thereby bringing our species into disrepute," Ascepius added.

The security officers gazed with blank expressions from one master demon to the other.

Ascepius explained. "Prizes offered at the games must be willing or didn't fulfill the bargains they made and are discharging their debts. And this asura kidnapped an unwilling human female that belongs to my grandson, and he has unlawfully killed another."

At another time or place, JB might have quibbled with his grandfather about the difference between the daemon and human definition of the word 'belonging', but right now he let it slide. Finding Gemma was within reach.

"He's yours," the guard said. "Have fun, Gelon."

"We're going to open a portal," Ascepius said. "Do we have your permission? Renzo, isn't it? I'll be sure to let your master know how helpful you've been in aiding us today."

The guard bowed. "Permission granted."

The instant the security officers stomped out of sight, Pythios deferred to Ascepius. "As always, my Lord, a pleasure doing business with you."

The two daemons bowed to each other. Pythios opened a portal and disappeared.

"Come" Ascepius ordered. JB obeyed, moving next to his grandfather and Gelon. After flicking his fingers, Ascepius placed a hand on each of their shoulders and took them straight to his basement.

JB hoped he was developing an immunity to surprise, but the prodigious assembly of flails, whips, and other assorted evil looking instruments that he didn't want to examine too closely adorning one wall of the underground room was still a shock. An overabundance of hooks and chains dangled from different heights on another wall, and the central space was occupied by a large X-shaped metal frame with dark stained grooves underneath, leading to a drain hole. JB shuddered. He would accept his grandfather's help because he had no choice, but this was a torture chamber. He'd do well to remember this place.

Gelon blabbed Gemma's whereabouts the second Ascepius's daemons started nailing him to the metal cross. Moreover, he was also extremely forthcoming in sharing information as to the current location of the chalice.

Ascepius summoned the butler, who escorted JB up to the study. He'd recovered somewhat from the chase and near throttling by Gelon, and paced back and forward, one eye on his cousins still sporting by the pool, the other on the door. JB was seriously considering biting his nails, when the door opened and Ascepius entered holding a black bag in his hand, with Gemma trailing behind him. Her face was pale, her eyes darted from side to side in terror, and as soon as she spotted JB she ran toward him. He enclosed her in a tight embrace, held her face against his chest, and stroked her back to calm her trembling. "It's over, you're safe. It's okay."

"Yes," Ascepius handed the backpack to JB. "I believe this is yours. But you two have to leave. I skipped a few formalities in bringing you here, JB, and technically you're an illegal alien, so I need you gone ASAP. I thoroughly enjoyed your visit and had more fun than I've had in a while. Come again soon, bring your woman too. Have a holiday with your cousins, I'm sure you'll get on like a house on fire. Your father should come and see me, too." He flicked his fingers, and a portal shimmered open. "One word of advice—that elven blade of yours is rather special. Take good care of it because few weapons have any effect against daemons." And with a final "Ciao, miei cari," ringing in their ears, he pushed the pair of them, JB still holding Gemma tight, through the gateway.

#  Chapter 14: Sunday 1 pm

The last to arrive at the Oasis, the best Michelin five-star restaurant in Tropolis, JB followed the maître d' upstairs to the first floor.

This was the most exclusive section of the restaurant, where white lace-edged tablecloth-covered tables were placed a decent distance from each other allowing for private conversations. Wall-to-wall glass windows gave a magnificent view over the River Saskan and Founders Park, where the trees displayed a final blaze of autumn colors before winter's arrival. The low hum of conversation blended with the soft Muzak in the background.

JB took the empty seat pulled out for him between Gemma and Zhanna, "I apologize for being late," JB looked around the table.

Jason, like JB, wore a smart suit and sat between two gorgeous women–one blonde and one raven-haired. Zhanna and Gemma were dressed in identical green silk pantsuits, with Zhanna's hair an exact copy of Gemma's lustrous copper curls. Nikki, apart from her piercings, was without a trace of Goth and wore a simple white dress. Her wild curls were sleeked into submission, and she wore high heels instead of studded boots. Juan, a handsome Latino sat on her left, and her mother, pale but cheerful, sat on her right.

"Welcome to our guests," JB nodded at Juan, Nikki's mother, and Jason's girlfriends. "I'll admit, the rest of you lot scrub up real respectable." A big grin spread across his face. "I've got the best news."

"They arrested Chas Fachio?" Jason asked.

"Better than that, my father's awake. We might never learn who drove the car that hit him, but early this morning, he came out of his coma. He's weak but able to talk. The nurse told me she can't confirm it yet, but he appears to have suffered no brain damage, and with luck, he could be home within a week or two."

"Oh, I'm so pleased for you, JB." Nikki smiled at him.

The conversation paused as waiters placed tempting plates of gourmet food in front of them, filled their glasses with wine, and discreetly departed.

"Mmm, this is as tasty as I can get anywhere back home," Zhanna sighed, closing her eyes and sipping honey nectar from a cut crystal champagne flute with great delight.

"Are you all right?" JB shot a quick glance at Gemma and picked up a fork to avoid meeting her gaze. Despite the exhaustion he experienced after returning from the daemon realm, he'd spent the night tossing and turning, trying to forget how great he had felt holding her in his arms.

"The worst part was the binding spell Gelon used on me after he deliberately rammed your car." She glanced at JB, but he was busy inhaling the exquisite aromas rising from the food in front of him. "After that, I remember little of what happened, just flashes of scenes that don't mean much."

"She woke me up screaming last night," Jason said.

Gemma pursed her lips and glared at her brother, but let his comment slide.

"I know of a good dream therapist," Nikki's mother leaned forward. "I had some terrible nightmares when I was first diagnosed. Marlene helped me understand what my dreams were telling me."

"Thank you, Mrs. Jarvin–"

"Oh call me Lily."

"Okay, thank you, Lily. If I feel the need, Nikki can get me the number." Gemma looked troubled for a minute, then her expression cleared and she straightened up. "Anyway, I can't tell you how happy I was when JB's grandfather rescued me from the freezer."

"The freezer?" squeaked Zhanna.

"Yeah, that's where they put her, so she wouldn't die from the heat before whoever won the Games claimed her for a prize," JB said.

Gemma shuddered at the thought of the awful fate that had awaited her. "I had a close escape."

"We owe your grandfather," Jason gave his sister an affectionate smile.

"And believe me, he won't forget. He'll claim a favor in return when he thinks he'll benefit most."

"That's fine by me," Jason shrugged. "He saved my sister."

Gemma looked at her brother with warmth. "Without JB's connection with Ascepius ...," she leaned close to JB and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, and I take it, this," she waved her hand at the display in front of them, "is Hekate's way of thanking us for returning her chalice in time for today's consultation."

"JB, you're blushing!" Zhanna squealed.

JB ignored the comment though his cheeks flamed with heat. "She was upset over Bathsheba, both that she'd broken her bond with the coven, and that she was dead, but she was very happy to hold that chalice in her hands again. And she gave me a big fat check, which will keep us out of the red for the next few months. Plus, she said she'll send her friends our way, and put the word out that Adept Solutions is the agency to go to if you have a problem."

"And what are the police doing about Perry White and Chas Fachio's involvement," Jason demanded, glancing at his sister.

"It's more than Lazlo Westermore's life is worth to tell what he knows, and Perry has disappeared without a trace. Apparently, he's worked for Fachio in the past, and was responsible for dragging his sister into this mess, so who knows if he's skipped town, or his boss decided to remove him from the equation. As for Fachio, without proof, the police can't do much, though when I spoke to Detective Barclay, he hinted that they'd be adding to the extensive file they have on him. He put me in touch with an Inspector Waynes from the super squad, who told me the authorities were satisfied Gelon's own people were dealing with him."

"Did he believe you?" Nikki asked as she demolished the delicately sized portion on her plate. Imps' constitutions enabled them to eat huge quantities and stay rake thin. She beckoned the waiter standing a discreet distance behind them. "Another of the same."

"Not at first, but when I mentioned Ascepius's name, he offered no more objections," JB said tucking into the food with gusto. "Mmm, this is delicious."

"Your grandfather is one badassed daemon isn't he?" Zhanna's eyes were enormous.

"Badassed? What kind of TV programs have you been watching?" JB's expression was stern, though his eyes twinkled.

"Don't worry, I'm monitoring her hours," Nikki said, "which was how I found out another faerie had hacked Zhanna's account and used her details to set up that dating scam."

"Someone cracked your security? That must have hurt your pride." Jason looked at Zhanna sympathetically.

The faerie wiped a crumb of the giant portion of Black Forest gateau she was demolishing from her mouth and put down her tiny silver fork. "Marli confessed once the Faerie Queen got hold of him. She was so angry with me when she thought I was the brains behind that scheme, she'd decided to haul me out of here, and send me to prison. If it hadn't been for Nikki ...," Zhanna blew a rainbow kiss of sparks across to the imp, "I'd be breaking crystals in Faerie Land. Once the real culprit was in jail, great-great-whatever-grandmamma was so pleased she let me come out with you today."

The waiter returned with Nikki's order, and the plate bore twice the previous amount. Nikki licked her lips in appreciation. "And I've good news, too. Juan has found an apartment that may be suitable. We're going to view it this afternoon. If Mom and I like it, we'll be signing the contract tomorrow, and moving in as soon as possible."

"Can't wait, eh?" Jason said.

Nikki rolled her eyes. "You don't want to know," but she laughed.

"So this whole thing was a move by Chas Fachio to gain influence over the Mayor by replacing Hekate with a witch of his own?" Jason asked. "Will he stop because his plans are foiled, and Hekate's got her precious chalice back?"

JB shrugged. "Not our problem. But we do have two potential clients coming in tomorrow. So I expect to see you all in the office bright and early." JB leaned back, satisfied for the moment. Yes, things were looking up. After the trauma of his birth, the doctors had told his mother that the combination of her's and his father's genes meant she could have no more children, so he'd grown up an only child. But these people sitting here around the table with him—Gemma, Jason, Nikki, and Zhanna–had become his family. "Let's have a toast." He raised his glass and waited till everyone was ready. "To Adept Solutions!"

The End
Here is the first chapter of Book Two in the Adept Solution Series. I hope you enjoy the beginning of JB and his team's next investigation.

Adept Solutions

Special Investigators for the Magickally Challenged

Book Two

Sorcerous Deeds©

By

Teagan Kearney

Chapter One: Monday, 14th June, 3 pm

None of the heat and bright luster of the mid-afternoon sun bathing the city of Tropolis reached Lower Level Park Four of the multi-storied downtown parking lot. The erratic flickering of the fluorescent light bulbs created uneasy shadows, and the air was rank with the stink of old seaweed, rotten cabbage, and sewage stirred into the mix. It was a stench that slunk along the ground like a dense November fog off the river—the stench of goblin.

As the elevator door slid shut behind them, JB turned first to Nikki, indicating she should go to the right and block the exit ramp. He signed he would head in a diagonal line toward their quarry before sending Gemma straight ahead. They padded off with guns raised, making little noise as they eased closer to their objective. A dark indistinct shape blurred across the back wall.

Shots rang out, echoing through the deserted space.

"A hit!" Gemma yelled.

Nikki and JB altered direction and the three of them raced through the parking lot, dodging around cars, and arrowing for the exit to block their quarry's escape.

Nikki skidded to a halt, planted her feet wide, and waited directly in the goblin's path. She fired her weapon repeatedly into the chest of the bald lumpen-headed sharp-toothed pointy-eared creature charging at her—whose pace had hardly been slowed by Gemma's strike.

JB and Gemma simultaneously burst out from the cover of the parked cars, firing non-stop at the target.

The goblin ran a few more steps, grunted, staggered to his knees, and fell, landing spread-eagled flat on his front inches from Nikki's steel-toed black boots. His arms and legs twitched for a full minute before he lay motionless.

Nikki kicked the prostrate figure hard in the ribs—twice. "That's for taking thirty-six hours of my life to search through the cesspits of Tropolis when I should have been arranging my wedding." She booted him again.

Gemma delivered another few wallops to the other side of his ribcage. "And that's for trading Neonice in my town."

Neonice was the latest highly addictive drug to hook its tentacles into the weak and vulnerable, with deadly results for both humans and paranormals.

She raised her foot again.

"Hey, pack it in you two." JB grabbed the unconscious figure's wrists, yanked them behind his back, and slapped on several pairs of double thickness plasticuffs before securing his ankles. "They say males are violent. You pair are savage."

"Yup, we are." Nikki grinned wide, her bright white pointed teeth, gifts of her half imp heritage, gleaming in the dim light. "That is one ugly creature," she muttered, holstering her pistol.

JB shot a sideways glance at Gemma. "We could have done this job in half the time if we'd had Jason with us."

As twins with a mixture of psychic talents, Gemma and Jason made a superlative tracking team.

"I already told you Jason's sick." Gemma glared at JB, yanking the bandana off her mess of red curls, fixing and retying it with a savage tug. She tightened the belt of her ex-army camouflage pants, tugging at the matching T-shirt as she noticed JB still staring at her.

"Call the Goblin Squad, and give them our location," JB ordered, his expression darkening as he turned away. "They're waiting for our call. Nikki, let's drag him over to the side. We're trying to keep any mention of this out of the news." They hauled the heavy body out of the aisle, then leaned casually against the wall hiding most of the trussed captive's body from view.

Ten minutes later an ancient Dodge campervan rattled down the ramp, and three long- armed fat-bodied goblins in olive green uniforms scrambled out. One, taller, with heavily scarred ears, strode toward them. "I'm Captain Deekgrak." he barked in a cracked bass, "pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Lucerne." He held out his hand.

JB took the extended hand and shook it, concealing his revulsion. He slid his hand out of the captain's slick grasp and agreed. "Likewise."

"What brought him down?" Deekgrak studied the prisoner.

"Twenty or so shots of rhino tranquilizer."

"Yes, that'll do it every time. As arranged, we're more than happy to keep this little affair between ourselves. Our species doesn't have the best of reputations."

JB could think of nothing positive to add. It was true: human and goblin standards in morals, culture, ideals of beauty, food preferences, and everything else were universes apart and unlikely to coincide anytime in the next few millennia. "We've got your billing address and we'll be in touch," he informed the captain. He wasn't going to declare, 'A pleasure doing business with you,' because it wasn't.

They had taken on the case as a favor to JB's father. One of his congregation members, Lester Wainton, was a prominent pharmaceutical manufacturer whose reputation and company would be adversely affected if it came out that products stolen from his warehouse had been used to make Neonice.

Captain Deekgrak nodded at his officers, who grabbed the unconscious prisoner by the ears and dragged him around to the back of the campervan. Opening the door, they yanked him up and flung him into the van. He landed with a loud thump and judging by the number of moans and groans coming from inside, the squad had had a busy day.

"What about doing a few more bounties?" Nikki asked as they headed for the elevator after the campervan had rattled off up the exit ramp.

"No, thank you," JB answered, attempting to wipe the slime from the handshake with the captain onto his already scruffy jeans. "Being a private investigator is dangerous enough at times without going looking for extra trouble. Is Juan aware of your appetite for this type of thrill-seeking activity?"

"What, your father wouldn't approve?"

"The agency's mine now and I can take any job I want."

JB's father had wanted him to continue his architectural studies, but JB had argued passionately and persuasively to let him take over the agency. JB Sr. had given his son a year to prove he could run the agency and, although their cash flow had been at a critical level eight months ago, after the team successfully solved a case for a witches' coven they'd had no lack of work.

"We could take more training. I'd love to do some karate. You could continue that sword stuff, and be honest," Nikki persisted, "didn't you get a buzz off it?"

A slow wolfish grin spread across JB's face and red sparks flared in the depths of his dark brown eyes. "Being honest? Yeah, I got a rush, but I don't know if I feel the need to repeat it." He glanced at Gemma, who stalked tight-lipped on the other side of Nikki. She's staying as far away from me as possible he thought. When he remembered her words to him seven months ago, they continued to sting. Not as much as when she'd said them, but the rejection still hurt. I do like you, JB, but if this thing between us goes south, work will be a nightmare. So, let's just be friends, okay? He'd moved on, dated other women, and arranged the schedules so they were rarely on the same job. Yet her close presence during this hunt had been an itch he couldn't scratch, and reminded him that, damn it, he still liked her. A lot. It didn't help that the details of the night they'd spent together remained as strong as a shiny new sharp-edged steel blade. "Mind you, if we're ever low on finances again, then perhaps I'd consider it. Nice shooting, both of you."

The drive back to the office was a quiet one. After tracking their quarry for the previous day and a half, the adrenaline buzz of action receded, leaving them hot, tired, sweaty, and smelling none too sweet. The priority was finishing the paperwork, with getting home, taking a much-needed shower, and putting on clean clothes a close second.

Nikki and Gemma trooped behind JB past his apartment on the second floor and up the stairs to the office on the top floor of the building. He pushed open the door and froze.

"What is it, JB?" Nikki asked, her voice as weary as her body.

JB walked into the room with Nikki and Gemma crowding in behind him.

JB's father stood by the window, and lounging at the table, their elegant arms draped over the backs of their chairs and their long legs sprawled out as if relaxing at home, were two elves.

#  From The Author

Thank you very much for reading Hekate's Chalice. If you enjoyed the book, let your friends know and please leave a review (long or short) because it is the best gift you can give a writer, and reviews help others decide if the book is one they'd like to read.

Sign up for my mailing list to receive information about new releases, advanced reading copies, discounts and free promotions. Click the link to get started:

https://bit.ly/2zGXGsS

Books by Teagan Kearney:

The Kala Trilogy

Healer's Magic

Vampire's Bane

Demon's Nemesis

The Kala Trilogy Box Set

The Adept Solutions Series

Hekate's Chalice

Sorcerous Deeds

Ancestral Secrets

The Saoirse Saga

Stars & Ashes

Awakening Defiance

Veiled Planet

One Summer in Montmartre

Untender Lives

 https://writingmynovelnoworkingtitleyet.blogspot.com

Twitter at: https://twitter.com/@teagankearney

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TeaganKearneyWriter/

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/teagankearney

Drop by anytime.

