this than a dead Phoenix.
“Yes. Certainly,” Ethan said in a tense, clipped voice. “This way.”
Ethan moved up the steps as though someone were chasing him. Sasha and Hunter loped behind him, taking the narrow cellar stairs two at a time. But once they all exited, Ethan locked the door and tried to appear calm before his kitchen staff as he showed Sasha and Hunter to the employees-only section of the establishment.
“I have a changing room for them in here,” Ethan said in a private murmur to keep others from hearing, sounding more and more distraught as he spoke. “It’s all pink and white tiles, pretty with mirrors and vanity lights and marble benches with a private shower, so my girls can fully transform in comfort. That’s why Sir Rodney and I called you. Something just isn’t right about this. My Phoenixes have never had a problem like this… and I didn’t want to alert my other employees for fear of starting a panic in the Fae community just before all the galas. You now bring up the possibility that it could be some virus… I pray what she had isn’t contagious. Me own wife, Margaret, isn’t sure-and she’s an empath… a healer and she cannot make heads or tails of this.”
“No, no, no-I just had to ask that question,” Sasha said, holding him by both arms.
She waited until he calmed and then they entered the changing room. Now she wasn’t sure which was worse-murder or contagion? Guilt threaded its way around Sasha’s conscience and choked it. This was indeed a person, someone who was loved and cared for by others in the supernatural community. The last thing she should have been thinking of was a silly party or her birthday, or any issues between her and Hunter… it was just that work was always the focus and she’d been hoping for a break in the action for only a little while. Then again, she reasoned, she was blessed. At least she wasn’t charred ash, which certainly could have been the case when dealing with pissed off Vampires.
But that was then and this was now, besides, this girl didn’t have any direct enemies, a crazy boyfriend, or any of the makings of domestic troubles. A brief prayer crossed Sasha’s mind:
Looking up at Ethan and then glancing at Hunter, she made sure her voice was gentle. “I guess I was just trying to rule out anything medical before we started down that path,” Sasha offered, hoping that it really was something benign that didn’t involve foul play.
Ethan nodded and released a sad sigh. “Here’s her locker.” He motioned toward it and then shrugged. “But I don’t have a key or the combination.”
Hunter reached out and yanked the door off. “No problem.”
“All right,” Ethan stammered. “Then… I should go to my office to report what we’ve learned thus far to Sir Rodney. Once you look through, please come up. I know he’s pacing the floors in need of answers.”
“We won’t be long,” Sasha said, beginning to go through Desidera’s personal effects. She glanced at Hunter. “And we’ll try to put the door back so the other employees don’t immediately see a busted locker.”
“Thank you,” Ethan said quickly and then slipped out of the door.
Hunter moved in close behind Sasha, his presence like a warm, stone wall of silence behind her.
“You’re crowding me,” she said with an arched eyebrow, glancing at him over her shoulder.
“Just trying to pick up a scent,” he muttered and then backed off.
“Mostly pretty standard stuff,” she called out, looking at a lightweight pink sweater, an extra pair of flat shoes, jeans, a tank top, and a purse. “She had a change of clothes in here… makeup.” Sasha let out a hard breath and began going through Desidera’s purse.
Holding up her driver’s license, the photo of a stunning woman stared back at her. No wonder Sir Rodney was so taken. Tissues, lipstick, a compact… nothing was out of the ordinary. But there was a roll of smaller bills held in a rubber band-no doubt dancer’s tip money. The contents of her wallet were also fairly standard: credit cards, several twenty-dollar bills. Then a small carnival strip photo fell into her hands. It had been held between two credit cards and showed two smiling girlfriends laughing and hugging each other. One redhead, one blond.
“This must be Penelope,” Sasha said, handing the photo strip to Hunter.
He took it, glanced at it, and handed it back to Sasha. “Looks fairly recent, judging from the same hairstyle in the driver’s license.”
Sasha nodded. “Good call.” But then, in a small slit inside the well-worn leather, her fingers hit pay dirt. “A Blood Oasis member card?” She handed off the card to Hunter, who raised a brow as he accepted it. “What’s she doing with one of these?”
“My question exactly. Vampires do not hand these out on the street. This is a donor card, not a member card.” Hunter handed Sasha back the card, which she stashed in her jeans’ pocket.
“Looks like we’re going to have to stop by the Blood Oasis,” she said, staring at him.
“Can’t wait,” Hunter muttered sarcastically.
A sudden presence made them both turn quickly. Upper and lower canines had ripped through Hunter’s gums. Sir Rodney’s bodyguard held up both hands in front of his chest, which eased the pair of wolves.
“Milord has been called back to Sidhe, and he would like a word with you in Ethan’s office before he leaves.” The bodyguard glanced at Sasha’s shoulder holster and weapon and then at Hunter’s slowly retracting canines. “Tensions are high… but know that our monarch is also extremely upset. To see a display of aggression-”
“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Sasha said as Hunter rolled his shoulders. “We’re just a little jumpy after what we’ve seen in the basement.”
The guard glanced at the broken locker door and then turned without comment. “This way, please.”
The threesome headed down the backroom corridors, meeting Ethan along the way.
“I’ve tried to call Penelope,” Ethan said, catching up to their pace, “but she didn’t answer. I know it sounds silly, but if you’re going to ask her questions tonight, will you call me? I wanted her to hear it all from me first, but I have to close down the bar and Mike left his shift early.” Ethan let out an exasperated breath. “Having employees is sometimes like having children. My bartender is known for taking off before his shift ends, and he did it again. I need to deal with him, and I don’t want anyone else closing for me tonight, given the circumstances.”
“We’ll call you, for sure,” Sasha said. “But you make sure you have someone you can trust stay in here with you while you close. Promise me that.”
Ethan nodded as the king’s best man turned and also nodded. “Milord has sent for Fae archers to reinforce me. I will be fine. Just check on Penelope… and let her know I wasn’t being callous to have strangers contact her before I’d had a chance. Make her know-”
“Ethan…” Sasha said, stopping before his office door and hugging him. “We’ve got your back. We’ll explain to her that you by rights couldn’t leave here and she was unreachable by telephone. Just make sure you give us her address before we leave.”
Ethan’s body relaxed against hers and they parted after a moment. “Thank you, Sasha. Thank you both,” Ethan said with a sniff and then walked down the hall in the opposite direction.
The guard opened the door and stood aside before entering behind Sasha and Hunter and closing it behind them. They found Sir Rodney pacing with his hands behind his back. Sir Rodney walked a hot path between Ethan’s desk and the bank of file cabinets against the far wall, dragging his fingers through his thicket of dark brown tresses. His handsome face was near ashen with grief, but his jewel-blue eyes glittered with unspent rage. “I want whoever attacked this girl found and dismembered,” he said in a low, threatening tone.
“Not a problem,” Hunter replied, anger beginning to make his wolf canines crest. “It is the way of the wolf- however, we must be sure of who the assailant was, beyond all doubt, before we act in such resolute terms.”
“Thank you,” Sir Rodney said, rage glittering in his eyes. “Then I appreciate your allegiance on such short notice.”
“We are one,” Hunter said, offering the monarch an Old World handshake, by clasping each other’s forearms.
Sasha nodded. “Did she say anything about why she was down there in the wine cellar? Is there
Sir Rodney’s gaze held Sasha’s for a moment and then went to Hunter’s before seeking a far-off point in the office. “No. I was to meet her at her apartment. That was all she said.”
Brief silence created a new level of tension in the room as Sir Rodney leaned an outstretched arm against the file cabinet. He allowed his head to drop forward and he spoke to Sasha and Hunter with his eyes closed. “I cared for her,” Sir Rodney finally said in a gravelly tone. “Many of us did. Find her killer… this wasn’t an accident. We need a neutral party-someone who can look into a Phoenix death without the Fae being directly involved… or it could cause diplomatic complications and raise questions we are not prepared to answer at present.”
