Luther also got points for accepting me for who I am, though he was maddeningly evasive about who he was. I docked him half a point for that but was still a little irritated to realize that he’d come out ahead in the comparison. For now.
Before I could even get my seatbelt unbuckled, Luther had my door open. I wondered if that was a habit he’d developed chauffeuring Sybil around. He was wearing that half smile that I’d just been thinking about, and his eyes were warm when he offered me his hand.
I made a point of ignoring it because I wasn’t some delicate flower unable to even get out of a truck by myself. “I’m good, thanks.”
He inclined his head, but the amusement remained.
“Okay, then,” James said as we strode toward the door. “I’ll take lead, of course, and try to buy you guys enough space to do whatever you need to.”
“I’ll need to talk to them.” Luther was back to being all business.
“Why?” James cast him a sideways glance. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re not an official member of the sheriff’s department, and I’m sure we’ll ask any questions that need to be answered.”
“Really?” Luther ran a hand through his raven hair, which I was learning was a sign of irritation. “Are you going to ask if she complained about being thirsty, hot, cold, or itchy before she died, or if she displayed any tics or changes in personality?”
“No,” he said, “why would I? She choked to death. Last time I checked, those weren’t symptoms that accompany choking.”
“Is that so?” Luther raised a brow at him, and I sensed a showdown coming. “And is it standard for them to turn green before a chunk of half-chewed food cuts off their air supply?”
I intervened before it turned into a pissing contest and explained. “There are different physical responses to curses that your medical examiner or investigators won’t know about or recognize. Why don’t you let him talk to them, or at least listen to you interview them and allow room for him to question them if he sees the need?”
“Fine,” James snapped as he reached out to ring the bell, “but don’t get in my way. You can ask questions but keep a low profile. I’ll introduce you as associates and leave it at that.”
“Fine. Hopefully, we’ll be able to sense the object, get it, and get out of your way,” I crossed my fingers that it would be that easy.
“What do you mean, get it and get out of my way? I have a dead girl on my hands!” he exclaimed.
“I realize, and that’s tragic,” Luther said, not looking at him, “but it’s not like we can bring her back. The best we can do is get the object and neutralize it so it can’t hurt anybody else.”
“Then what am I supposed to do? I mean, the girl’s green. How do I explain that?” He was getting obviously agitated, and it made me wonder what he’d expected before we’d laid out the plan.
I laid my hand on his arm. “You don’t. You let your medical team come to whatever conclusion they do, and you leave it. It’s going to be a mystery, but people die from unknown causes all the time. Just let it go.”
His jaw flexed, and I could tell he was thinking. “Are all those cases caused by ... your people?”
I raised my brows. “My people?”
“Watch your tongue,” Luther snapped. “I hate to disappoint you, but the vast majority of murders are committed by humans—your people. This situation is a rare exception, not the rule. And you should count yourself lucky Sage and Eli found that trunk rather than some human tourist.”
James pulled in a deep breath through his nose and blew it out slowly. Before he could respond, the door swung open.
Chapter 4
An ancient butler stood before us, and I had to cough to cover a laugh; he bore a remarkable resemblance to how Luther had first appeared to me. A stray thought flitted through my brain: what if all old butlers were really super-hot guys in disguise and nobody knew? It would explain a lot and made me reconsider convincing Mom and Dad we needed one at the manor.
Luther pinched me on the back of the arm, and I jumped.
“Get your mind in the game,” he said low enough that only I heard it. James was telling the man who he was and what he needed to do, and the man opened the door wider and motioned for us to follow him.
I scowled up at Luther as we followed James inside. “You pinched me!” I hissed. I was used to that from Eli and Jake, my twin brother, but hadn’t expected him to stoop to it.
His face remained impassive. “I was under the impression that’s how your peers communicate with you when you’re being ... you.”
I had no idea what he meant by that, but, with a final glare, decided to let it go.
Even if the butler hadn’t led us into the parlor, it would have been easy enough to find the action just from the noise. The room was packed full of young women wearing cocktail dresses and expensive pantsuits, and I was suddenly glad I’d come dressed as I had.
A lifetime of experience with people like these had taught me that I’d likely go unnoticed in department store jeans and a tee shirt. If I’d come in wearing Prada—which I did actually own—I would have caught their
