She held her breath until Marcus stormed out, oddly contented babe still in his arms. And considered it a fine start to her morning.
Nell looked at the Taj Mahal of hotels dominating the landscape in front of them and glanced over at her brother. “She lives in a casino?”
Jamie grinned. “No. A few blocks away. Maybe Daniel thinks we should try the slots first.”
Great. A Realm taxi driver with a sense of humor-just what they needed. Nell picked up her phone to text her husband, and laughed as a nine-year-old face came onscreen instead. “Sorry, Mama. Aervyn wanted to help, and he missed a little.”
Even better-apparently they were letting five-year-olds drive now. “Uncle Jamie will practice with him later. Can you beam us to Adele’s offices now?”
Mia nodded, full of repressed humor. “They’re really sparkly.”
That was quite the statement from the Queen of Glitter. “I’ll tell Uncle Jamie to put on his sunglasses. Beam us over, Scotty.”
“Beaming.” Mia looked down-and Nell felt the odd suck of a Realm transport spell.
When she popped out the other end, the first thing she did was grab her brother’s sunglasses. “Holy hell.” “Sparkly” was an entirely inadequate adjective for the bedazzled view.
“It takes work to out-glitter Las Vegas,” said an amused voice over her shoulder. Nell spun around-and found herself nose-to-nose with gold lame.
“Course I’m not.” Adele nodded at the glitzy woman standing by the door and headed into the office building of Underwood International. “You’re smart people, and I’m not hard to find.”
Nell slammed down her mental barriers. “You mindread?”
Gold shoulders shrugged and angled toward the private elevator. “Only when someone with decent power is being sloppy.” Adele eyed them both. “And that’s the last advantage I give up on my turf.”
Message received, loud and clear. Adele Underwood was a force to be reckoned with. A very shiny force.
Which meant it was time for an apology. “Sorry. Witches who live in Berkeley shouldn’t throw stones or make fast judgments based on appearances.” Nell held out her hand. “We have a mystery to solve, and we’d really appreciate your help.”
“You’d have had it anyhow.” Adele’s eyes outsparkled her rings. “But since you’re going to play nicely, I won’t mess with you for a few days before I give it.”
She could have done it-that was abundantly clear. Nell nodded. “You’re a witch. One who can do more than just the occasional fire globe.”
“Not much more.” Adele ushered them both out of the elevator onto carpet four inches thick. “A stitch of mindreading, intermittent empathy, a little precog. And occasionally the dead talk to me.”
“Not what your bio says.” Jamie paused, taking in the gold-plated view of Adele Underwood’s private office. “You peddle snake oil.”
Oh, boy. Clearly her brother wasn’t quite ready to extend his respects to a fellow witch.
“I don’t.” Adele gestured to two chairs. “I used to work the customer service hotline at a telephone company. You wouldn’t believe the number of people who called just to chat. People need someone to talk to. I provide that.”
“For $4.99 a minute.”
Ah. Now Nell knew why Jamie was still circling the wagons. He’d done most of the digging on Underwood International.
“For the first three minutes. Rest of the call’s free. Up to an hour.” Adele dropped into a facing chair. “I assumed a skilled investor like yourself would have read the fine print.”
Nell’s eyes snapped away from the windows. Jamie invested very quietly. Adele had done some digging of her own-deep and fast. “You don’t build this kind of empire charging fifteen dollars an hour.”
“Nope.” Adele poured coffee into three cups. She winked at Jamie. “I have some investments. They do pretty well. This here is all just pretty wrapping so folks feel like they’re getting their money’s worth when they call to talk to my people.”
Her baby brother had a hell of a poker face, but Nell could feel the neurons in his brain shorting. “You promise messages from the dead.”
“Sure do.” Adele set down her coffee cup, eyes suddenly serious. “You ever talked to the dead? They pretty much all have only one thing they want to say. ‘I love you.’” She shrugged. “And the occasional dead asshat who doesn’t want to say that isn’t getting any of my help.”
Game, set, match. Nell grinned-no way Jamie could hold out against a woman who stood against dead asshats.
It took a moment. And then humor flooded into his eyes, along with something deeper. “Evan’s message wasn’t that simple.”
“No.” Adele’s voice leaked sadness. “Although the love is there too, whenever folks are ready to believe it.”
Nell tried not to feel sorry for one crusty old bachelor. “He expects us to believe messages about soldiers and babies instead?”
“Not all of you. Just enough of you to keep the child safe.” Adele sat up straighter. “Wait. Has Morgan arrived?”
It didn’t take a mindreader to pick up her racing concern. Nell sipped her coffee, willing the caffeine to her brain. “She did. Last night. We need to know more about what’s going on. She arrived coated in magic.”
Adele nodded slowly. “She would have. He would have taken every precaution.”
“He? Evan?” Jamie leaned forward. “He’s alive?”
“No.” Adele stood up and walked toward the windows. “He’s a traveler. One with the strongest magic I’ve ever seen.”
Nell felt the world shifting under her feet. “Wait. Astral travelers aren’t dead?”
“To most of us, they are.” Sparkly fingers danced in the early morning light. “I only know what little Evan has been able to explain. There’s a world between, one that travelers can visit.”
“Most don’t come back.” Jamie’s voice was tight with fear.
Adele’s face softened. “Your Kenna isn’t a traveler. Evan said to tell you that.”
Nell watched a weight lift from her brother’s shoulders-one she hadn’t even known existed.
His breath whooshed out. “I have some precog. She’s got so much magic…”
“Not this one.” Adele patted his shoulder. “He seemed very sure.”
Jamie nodded, mind heavy with gratitude.
Nell said quiet thanks to a dead man she’d never met. “He’s still in that world-the in-between one?” And he couldn’t come back-that much she could read in their occasional medium’s eyes.
“Yes. He calls it the halfway house.” Eyes met Nell’s over her brother’s head. “He does what he can to help the souls passing through. Sends on the dead peacefully, chases the occasional traveler back to safety.”
Traveling was a talent most witchlings grew out of-if they lived. Evan had been the last witchling lost to the astral plane. The dots connected. “He sends our travelers back?”
Adele nodded. “He kept saying something about ‘with great power comes great responsibility.’”
Nell felt the lump hit her throat. “If you talk to him again, tell him thank you. And that his aunt Moira would be very proud of him.”
“That will be up to him.” Adele sat down again, picking up her coffee. “He comes to me. I just listen and deliver messages. And crash into your Witches’ Lounge against my better judgment. He weaves a hell of a spell, that one.”
Jamie’s eyebrows hit the ceiling. “Evan got you into Realm?”
Adele’s laugh was loud, long, and sent every inch of gold lame shimmering. “You think
Nell filed away the “honey boy” for the next time she needed to poleax Jamie. Big sisters took their advantages
