Ed shrugged. “My oldest watched a couple of pranksters for a while until he got bored. Said all the lying and flashy stupidity made the boys doing the pranks look desperate for attention.” He nodded toward the road. “The photographer seemed desperate like that.”
The last thing we needed was a team of dumb kids thinking they could make a small town look stupid by strapping a rocket to a shopping cart and sending it down Main Street. Or worse, by groping the locals.
“None of you read magic on him?” I asked.
Dag shook her head. “The pack reacted. Gerard and the others didn’t sense anything specific, but they’re sure they sensed a darkness.”
And her tracers had slid off. “Then the shadow around the card probably is some sort of concealment enchantment,” I said.
A mundane prank, this was not.
Arne stared off in the distance in much the same way as Ed. “He may have no idea he carries the magic.”
Dag nodded. “Like Maura’s ex’s island magic, it might be something creepily persistent.”
The elves looked at each other in turn, all three of them with strained, unhappy faces.
I was unaccustomed to the elven paralysis. Any magic, no matter how shadowy or creepily persistent, was to be rooted out and disposed of posthaste. Yet here stood our King and Queen on the edge between the park’s green grass and the lot’s black tar, both with their hackles up, but neither knowing where to punch.
Perhaps this “shadow” caused the same response as the concealments around my mystery woman.
“Lennart says he’ll check the card.” Bjorn held out his phone again. “By the way, Frank, your satchel is ready.”
That meant Lennart had finished the stasis pouch I’d commissioned to hold Rose’s notebook. The elder elf who had made Remy’s pouches for his sketchbooks was long dead, and both Arne and Dag were busy. I figured Lennart would enjoy the challenge, and the opportunity to engage in some precise magic.
“Great.” I said. “I’ll head over.”
Arne handed the card to Bjorn. “Tell Lennart thank you, and that we missed him today.”
Bjorn’s lips pinched. “I told him that there were plenty of elves here who would sit with him. He said he didn’t want to be a distraction.”
Lennart was one of Alfheim’s most magically powerful—and magically overwhelmed—elves. Any elf who took their own name so young, as Lennart had in his early twenties, only did so because his magic demanded it of him. And Lennart’s magic was prominent, powerful, and as bombastic as his namesake.
Where Bjorn walked the world more as the “elf of the common man” part of his namesake’s magic, Lennart was all storms, all the time.
He didn’t get out much, mostly because even with all his power, he had a difficult time holding a glamour. Sadly, he spent most of his time hiding in the back of Raven’s Gaze Brewery with Mr. Mole Rat and Bjorn’s other cats.
Arne sighed. They’d been through this with Lennart many, many times. They all seemed as continually surprised by his polite lack of confidence as I was, considering his Thor-like magic. But then again, I knew nothing of his past, or why he’d come to Alfheim in the first place. Like so many of us, he was another stray taken in by Arne and Dag.
“We will investigate when things wind down here,” Arne said.
Ed returned to staring at the lot’s exit. He wasn’t any better at disguising his body language than our guest had been. Ed’s hackles were up even more so than the elves’. He scratched his cheek. “I don’t want any problems with the pack,” he said. “The last thing Alfheim needs is close to thirty angry, wild-with-Samhain werewolves going into a full moon.”
I looked back at the band shelter. Gerard stood protectively between his family and the lot. Axlam continued to hold Jax against her side. Akeyla had moved to Maura, but held tight to Jax’s hand.
“We need to figure this out,” I said. Now, before the wolves whipped themselves into a frenzy.
Dag squeezed my arm again, then took Arne’s hand. They walked toward Gerard.
Bjorn tucked his phone into his pocket. “I told Lennart I’d be home in an hour or two.” Then he, too, walked back toward the festivities.
Ed returned to staring at the road. “Do me a favor,” he said.
“Anything,” I answered.
He didn’t turn around. He didn’t flinch or fidget. But his shoulders visibly tightened under his jacket. He slowly exhaled. “Remind Arne that I brought my family here because he told me his town and its magic would keep my kids safe.”
Arne had yet to grant Ed access to The Great Hall. Most of the time when a threat came around, Arne sent the Martinez family to the Alfheim Pack for protection. One of Ed’s deputies was pack—two now, with Mark Ellis joining the force—so I suspected Arne thought Ed would be more comfortable in Gerard and Axlam’s warded and spell-protected home with his mundane-trained law enforcement.
I rubbed my ear. I shouldn’t make excuses for the elves. No matter how much I loved the family who’d adopted me, they were still elves, and they had their elven issues.
“I will.” How was I to explain to Arne that he needed to take a long, modern look at his motivations? Maybe Maura could help.
Ed sniffed, as if getting a whiff of the words we spoke would give him some deeper understanding than listening alone. “At least this time we know there’s something hidden here.”
“I did see a shadow,” I said.
He pulled his ever-present notebook from his pocket. “I’m going to do some digging on Natural Living Incorporated, the old-fashioned way.” Ed gripped my elbow. “Thank you.” Then he, too, walked away.
I pulled out my phone to text Lennart and let him know I was on my way over. I swiped… and looked down at the photo of my mystery woman.
Damn it, I thought. Whatever clung to the photographer wasn’t the only concealment I was dealing with. At least the new magic wasn’t
