“Gavriella was unsettled by the fact that someone, friend or foe, had learned of her new identity so quickly,” Rafael said. “It irked her that she was never able to solve who had reached out to her or for what purpose. Plus, there was the matter of the sunflower drawing. She was convinced that it, too, was part of the coded message and it drove her barmy trying to figure out what it meant.”
I smiled. It would have driven me crazy as well.
“Though why use a Sherlock Holmes novel to send the message and not a simple letter?” Rafael said.
“Dad liked to get personal with his marks,” I said bitterly. “To disarm and build trust.”
“He sounds like quite the character.”
“He has his moments. So, there’s still one unclaimed piece of the Sefer out there and it’s all tied to Adam.”
“It would seem so.”
This was bigger than my need for closure. Finding my father was a vital step in stopping Chariot—provided they didn’t find me first.
But then all my tiredness pressed in on me like a blanket. I yawned, hastily covering my mouth. “Sorry.”
Rafael’s condition showed no sign of diminishing. A good night’s sleep would do us both good. Then we could discuss our problem clear-headed.
I scraped the chair back. “I’ll see you when you get to Vancouver.”
“I shall wait with bated breath.”
Aw, shit. He wasn’t being snarky. I fiddled with the wooden ring on my finger. Was it irresponsible of me to run out on him? But at the same time, how much of this was my responsibility? It would wear off, wouldn’t it?
Rafael brushed a lock of hair out of my face. “Get some rest. Until we next meet, my Jezebel.”
Chapter 6
Wednesday morning, I woke up on my back, the blankets barely wrinkled. Usually, I slept sprawled out, playing a constant game of sticking my feet in and out of the covers to regulate my body temperature until the blankets twisted ninety degrees. I’d slept as motionless as the undead, and that only reinforced how vampiric I’d felt sucking on Rafael’s magic. I kicked the covers into a messy ball out of spite.
Mrs. Hudson whined at me from her dog bed on the floor. The pet store owner had tried to convince me to buy a crate for her but she’d shied away from the display so violently that I hadn’t had the heart to force her into one. I’d sprung for an uber-plush bed that was designed to calm anxiety, and she did look pretty calm, if I said so myself.
It turned out that puppies did not have any respect for the sacred first morning cup of coffee and would pee on the floor if not walked upon waking, whether a person was decently caffeinated or not.
“Do this with your new family,” I said, squatting on the balls of my feet to wipe up the puddle. I threw the sodden mess in the trash and washed my hands before jumping in the shower.
After donning a pair of jeans and a red sweater to show this day who was boss, I dished out puppy food and clean water. “Where’d you get to?”
Mrs. Hudson sneezed and I followed the noise to the living room. A sound of horror squeaked out of me.
Priya grinned, running her hand along the pink sweater that Mrs. H now wore, as if my former bestie was some kind of showroom model. “She loves it.”
Priya was in a taupe dress that dulled her brown skin. I considered the odds of getting away with a break-in that only stole the clothes in her current color palette.
“You know what she’d really love? Matching with you,” I said. “Your bright pink cowl neck sweater would be just the thing.”
Priya gathered up the packaging that the doggie outfit had come in. “Nah.”
“If you’re not wearing pink, then it’s not going to be inflicted on the pug, either.”
“She’s not going to wear black,” Priya said.
“She’s not going to wear anything. It’s the best thing about dogs. They’re clothing optional.” I tried to tug the ridiculous article off, but Mrs. Hudson nipped at my finger.
Priya smirked and flounced out of the room, just as the buzzer to the building’s front door went off. We went weeks with no visitors, so why had we suddenly turned into Grand Central Station?
“Yes?” I said testily into the intercom.
“It’s me.”
Awesome. Nothing capped the glow of morning-after magic devourment like a visit from one’s mother. Why was Talia here? We hadn’t spoken since our tacit understanding to pretend that I didn’t have magic and would continue to live as a Mundane putting my detective skills to work for an insurance company.
Reluctantly I buzzed her in, meeting her on the landing. “This is a surprise.”
She kissed my cheek, immaculately turned out as always, with pearl buttons on her smart pantsuit and her hair in a sleek bob. Talia was every inch the high-powered woman-on-the-go, as befitted her position as the Senior Policy Advisor for the provincial Untainted Party. We had the same dark hair, but she had gray eyes where I’d inherited my dad’s brown ones. “Darling. Let me take you for breakfast and hear how your first few days on the new job are going. Any interesting fraud cases?”
Yeah, my father. “It’s early days still. I’m not sure I should be—”
“I’m off.” Priya slid out the front door in a beige coat, her custom-built pink laptop sticking out of her open computer bag, and Mrs. Hudson on a leash. “Oh. Hi, Talia.”
They hugged. My mother was genuinely fond of Priya and I suspected that in the event of a friend divorce, she’d keep the non-biological female.
“You got a puppy?” Talia did not attempt to pet the dog.
I waited for Pri to stake her claim on Mrs. Hudson, but she decided to buck tradition and throw me under the bus.
“Oh, not
