I sat on one of the barstools as I watched Brent chop a bell pepper.
“You’re ordering take-out, huh?”
He shrugged. “Since I had guests—which, believe me, never happens—I thought I’d make fajitas.”
Brent’s fajitas were to die for. I wouldn’t complain. I snatched a strip of meat from a platter near the sink and nibbled it as I watched him work.
“So, what did you think was off about my apartment?”
Brent glanced at the stairs. “He’s still up there?” he asked quietly.
I nodded.
“Good. I didn’t want anyone listening in. Since I started working for HPD, I’ve learned not to trust people.”
“What a wonderful lesson to learn.”
“It is. I know.” He finished chopping the pepper and tossed it on the grill. I grabbed another piece of meat. He eyed me, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he placed a tomato on the cutting board and started slicing it.
“So, what’s up?” I asked. “What looked off?”
“Small things, really. When I got to your apartment, it was locked, the door was intact, and the bolt was secured. The window could have been used as an entry point, but I saw no signs of tampering. Also, when a burglar breaks into a place, they do it fast and go through everything in the same way. They’re usually feeling rushed, so, for example, when they enter the bedroom, they’ll take the drawers out of your dresser and dump the contents on the floor.
“But in your case, the dresser drawers were still in the dresser.”
“But the contents were messed up.”
“True, but like I said, that isn’t typical. Also,” he added after a pause, “the refrigerator. I’ve never seen any burglar go after the fridge. People don’t typically keep valuable items in a fridge. What burglar would waste their time going through the cheese and yogurt when they could be taking jewelry and electronics? It almost seems as if whoever broke into your place didn’t know what a refrigerator was.”
I stopped chewing the meat to debate his statement. “Like someone from another world, maybe?”
“Yeah, maybe. You think this could be a fairy thing?”
Remembering the magic I’d felt in my bathroom mirror, it seemed very likely. “It’s possible,” I answered. “If that’s so, then who would’ve done it? And why would they be in my apartment?”
“You don’t have any idea?”
I thought for a moment. It could’ve been the elves. They’d been after the sword of Dracon for longer than us. If they’d gotten word that we were going after it, then maybe they’d been following us.
It didn’t seem likely that they would’ve followed us through the portal into the third world. It would’ve been more likely that they would’ve waited for us to return to Faythander, and then ambushed us and taken the sword after we arrived.
Was it possible that they could’ve waylaid the Wults once they arrived back in Faythander? If they did, they would’ve quickly learned that the others didn’t have the sword, which meant they would’ve gone after Kull and me instead. Which would’ve led them here.
“It could be the elves,” I said, “but we had only just arrived when they trashed my apartment. The timeline doesn’t make sense.”
Timeline. I’d seen the timeline screwed with before, when Mochazon had crossed worlds. Was it possible that the Wults had arrived in Faythander before us? If so, that would have given the elves time to ambush them, realize they didn’t have the sword, and then come after us instead. The real kicker was that we didn’t even have the real sword and the elves were wasting their time. My apartment had been trashed for nothing.
“Brent, you have to let me tell Kull about this.”
“Why?”
“Because he knows the elves and how they work. He might have an idea how to find out if it’s really them. Plus, he doesn’t trust me, and keeping something like this from him will make him trust me even less.”
“Fine.” Brent sighed, sounding resigned.
The sound of footsteps came from the staircase, and Kull emerged. He wore sweats and a plain white tee that stretched across his carved muscles. His damp hair was tied back in a low ponytail. His eyes looked less suspicious as he scanned the room and then focused on the platter of meat. Maybe the smell of food was putting him in a better mood.
My heart fluttered uncontrollably at the sight of him. He hated me now—or, at least—he didn’t trust me, but that didn’t affect how I felt about him. What was it about this man that made me completely lose my head? Even when he was hands down the nastiest person I’d ever been around?
Kull propped himself on a barstool and stole a strip of meat. I inhaled the faint scent of soap coming from him, mingled with the characteristic scent of Kull, of sandalwood and dark forests, something that spoke of excitement and adventure, yet quietly seductive.
“Kull,” Brent said, nodding.
“Brent.” Kull nodded back. “You’re cooking?”
“Fajitas.”
“You’ll like it,” I said. “It’s got meat.”
“Hmm.” He stole another strip of steak. “Were you discussing something?”
Brent and I traded glances. I knew he didn’t want me telling Kull about his break-in theory, but at this point, we needed Kull’s input.
“Brent thinks the break-in seemed odd—like something someone not of this world might have done. I think it was the elves.”
“Elves?”
“It makes sense. They’re desperate to find the sword.”
Brent spoke up. “If they’re looking for the sword, then maybe you should just give it to them. You said it was worthless, right?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” I said. “Except, they don’t know it’s a fake. The elves believe it’s the real sword, and if they’re chasing after us, then they won’t be traveling to the goblin lands and finding the true one. We’ll have to keep it away from them as long as possible.”
“But how did they find us here in Earth Kingdom in the first place?” Kull asked.
“I’m not sure, but I suspect they’ve been tracking us since we left Faythander.
