“Us?”
He nodded but did not elaborate. “However, you’ve made your decision and I will abide by it. I don’t believe I have any other choice. You are an important person in my life, Lily, and I want to maintain our connection. As your friend, I would like to be there to support you when you marry. Also, I am so looking forward to meeting your grandmother and her coven.”
“Well, in that case, consider yourself officially invited. But fair warning—my mother’s on that bus, too.”
“Is she? Mother issues.” He shook his head. “They’re tough.”
“Somehow it’s hard to imagine you with a mother.” For that matter, it was hard to imagine Aidan as a child. He’d been a blue-eyed, golden-haired mischief-maker in an angel’s guise, no doubt. “What’s she like?”
“She passed a long time ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. My condolences.”
“Thank you. As I said, it was a long time ago.”
“Still . . .” I tried to think of something else to say. Our gaze held for a long moment, until Noctemus jumped into Aidan’s lap, demanding attention. He stroked her, his large hand looking tan against her pure white fur. “So,” I said, changing the subject, “what can you tell me about silverfish?”
“Nothing I can think of. Why?”
“I found some in the shoe box from Germany.”
“You opened it, alone?”
“Patience helped me.”
“What else did you find within it?”
“Not much, actually. But there was a lachrymatory; do you think that could be the bēag Tristan was after?”
“It’s possible. As a small treasure, that would make sense.”
“It has the salts of tears, but I have no idea who it belonged to. Also, there was a watch. Speaking of which, I noticed the doppelgänger has a pocket watch. He stopped to check it, just before he stopped chasing us, and when he was leaving the hotel after killing Dupree.”
“A watch could be the bēag as well. Where is the box now?”
“In my apartment. It’s hidden, and protected.”
“I’d feel better if I could keep it here. It might not be safe at your place. You’ve been broken into before.”
“True. And Jamie—Renee’s errand boy who brought the cupcakes—he mentioned that Tristan had come to San Francisco to work with Renee. I’m not sure if I can trust what he says, but it was interesting.”
“It would make sense that Dupree was searching for the lachrymatory, to add to Renee’s collection.”
“It’s so bizarre. She keeps them right by her collection of silver spoons.”
“And that’s significant?”
I shook my head. “No. I just think it’s funny that she’s collecting the remnants of grief to increase her power, but keeps them in a little cupboard right alongside her collectible silver spoons. She’s such an unassuming adversary.”
“And yet not to be underestimated.”
“I know,” I said, feeling glum. My stomach growled.
Aidan looked amused. “Hungry?”
“I haven’t eaten in a while. It’s been an eventful day.”
“What you need,” Aidan said as he handed me my coat, “is a delicious cupcake.”
Chapter 19
We left Oscar snoozing in the corner of Aidan’s office under the watchful eye of Noctemus. My familiar was mumbling, “Fart goblin,” and chuckling to himself in his sleep.
As we drove across town, Aidan explained that ours was an exploratory mission.
“Most likely she’s just trying to mess with your head,” Aidan said. “Which, I might point out, she accomplished—admirably. Don’t be such an easy mark, Lily.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Also—and please note that I’m not telling you what to do—but did you honestly not anticipate that Oscar would go after the cupcakes in the Dumpster?”
“I underestimated him. I often do, I find.”
I noticed that Aidan’s glamour seemed to shimmer slightly, to be off in the glare of the late-afternoon sun. “Aidan, are you sure you’re all right going out this afternoon?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I, um . . . sometimes I see your glamour slip.”
He gave me a quick, sharp look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Renee once mentioned . . . She told me that you were looking for a fountain of youth. Was that true?”
He muttered something under his breath.
“Sorry?” I said.
“I said,” he replied, “that Renee has a big mouth.”
“Does that mean she was right? Is there such a thing as the fountain of youth?”
“Of course not,” he scoffed.
“Then . . . ?”
“She’s fishing, obviously. But the truth is, Renee knows that my powers have been diminishing over the past year or so. I’ve told you as much myself. That’s one reason why you and I need to work together, now more than ever, to secure the future of the city we love.”
“Why have your powers been diminishing?”
“That’s a conversation for another time,” Aidan said as he turned onto Renee’s street. “We’re here.”
We rolled past a now-closed vintage clothing store, Vintage Visions Glad Rags, whose owner had died not long ago. Renee had mentioned she wanted to expand her cupcake business into the site, but so far the clothing store remained closed, its fine inventory still crowding the unlit display windows, surely growing dusty by now. The memory of finding the owner, poisoned and paranoid, holding a gun came back with full force. It was a haunting image.
Again I wondered, if Renee gained the upper hand in the supernatural battle for control of San Francisco, would I have to leave town? Would Aunt Cora’s Closet be left like Vintage Visions Glad Rags, sad and dusty and falling to ruin?
Enough with the catastrophic thinking, Lily, I chided myself.
Aidan found a parking space around the corner from Renee’s bakery. As we approached, we saw the tiers of pretty iced cupcakes crowding the display windows, and inside three customers waited in line. Renee was behind the horseshoe counter, as usual, charming her patrons and chatting about what she liked to call her “fairy cakes.” I noticed the new product line that Maya had mentioned: One entire shelf was now dedicated to “savories,” such as meat pasties and vegetable cheese rolls.
Also on the counter behind Renee was a large tray of burned cupcakes, still steaming. I sniffed, trying to pick up any underlying scents—or even obvious ones like charred batter—beneath the overwhelming
