CHAPTER SIX

"I didn't do it," Dionne insisted, stood in front of the office desk with her head held high. "I would never do something like that."

"Huh." Sinking further into the leather chair, Ella licked her front teeth. "Can't say I believe you."

She'd arrived at work that morning resolved that she'd fire Dionne first thing, just as she'd told her family she would. But the hellcat hadn't arrived until after noon, while Ella was busy with a customer. It was afterward, when she and Mia had peeked over at where Dionne stood at the register, that the sisters had discovered a whole new reason why the woman needed to be fired.

Dionne's lips thinned. "I'm not the only person who works here. Any number of people could have stolen money from the till. Just because the others are related to you doesn't mean it wasn't them."

"True. But I know for a fact that it was you, so … "

Dionne folded her arms. "Oh, I see. Because you don't like me, you're going to claim I stole the money."

"I'm claiming you stole it because I saw you do it." Ella leaned forward in her seat. "Now, here's what's going to happen. You're going to give me back the cash you stole. And then you're going to grab your shit and go."

Dionne gaped. "You're firing me?"

"This truly surprises you?" Unreal. "You're never on-time. You call in sick at least once a week. You keep claiming you need a bathroom break when, really, you're going to your locker to check your cell phone. I already warned you that all that shit needed to stop. Mia warned you. My mom and Jocelyn warned you. But you didn't listen to us, and now you're stealing from the till. What did you think would happen?"

The hellcat's nostrils flared. "Like I really wanted to work here anyway." She fished the wad of cash from her pocket, slapped it on the desk, and then stormed out.

God, the woman was a pain in the ass.

Ella snatched the money from the desk and left the office. Since she needed to leave work early to check out a situation for Neve, she retrieved her purse from her locker and kept a close eye on Dionne as the hellcat grabbed her stuff from her own locker.

Once they were both done, Ella followed her to the shop floor and then slipped behind the counter. Dionne stormed out of the place, almost crashing into someone who'd been trying to enter.

Joe.

Ella sensed her sister tense beside her.

Looking sheepish as he crossed to the counter, he tipped his chin at Mia, an awkwardness in his manner. "Hi."

His blue eyes met Ella's for the briefest moment as he nodded in greeting. They were civil toward each other, but they'd never been anything close to friends. Whereas Luka was protective of Ella's family purely because of who they were to her, Joe didn't extend his protectiveness beyond Mia. Which had been fine with Ella right up until he stopped being considerate of her sister's feelings.

Mia stared at him, her expression wary. "What brings you here?" she bluntly asked him.

He drifted his fingers through his scruffy ash-blond hair. "I figure we should talk."

Mia inhaled deeply. "Okay." She walked out from behind the counter and headed to the nearest corner, gesturing for him to follow.

Ella stuffed the cash in the till, totally intending to eavesdrop.

He cleared his throat. "Thanks for speaking with me," he said to Mia. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd flipped me off." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Listen, I … Can we just forget all that happened between us recently?"

"Forget?" Mia's eyes went squinty. "Forget you've been an ass to me, or forget stuff from before that?"

He grimaced. "We should have kept things platonic, but we didn't. I don't want it to ruin our friendship. Can we just pretend it never happened?"

Ella couldn't help but wince. If Luka had told her he'd regretted that they slept together and wanted them to act as though it had never occurred, it would have stung big time. Your anchor was supposed to be a person you'd always feel safe with, emotionally and physically. They weren't supposed to hurt you.

Mia folded her arms, her posture defensive. "So you've been acting weird and distant because you regret that we slept together but didn't wanna say so?"

He averted his gaze. "Yes."

Ella tensed, telepathically reaching out to her sister. That was a lie.

Mia's mind stroked hers as she telepathically replied, It was. There's more to this. She gave him a brittle smile. "Sure. Why not?"

He swallowed. "Great."

He doesn't sound as though he thinks it's great, Ella mused.

No, he doesn't, Mia agreed.

He let out what seemed to be a relieved breath, but it was a little too exaggerated to be genuine. "Glad that's all sorted."

"As am I," Mia told him, studying him closely.

Again, he cleared his throat. "Well, I … I guess I'd better go."

Mia watched him scurry out of the shop before turning to Ella. "That was weird. He was weird."

Ella bit her lip. "I hate to say it, I really do, but I think he said that stuff to hurt you. Why else do it? He could have omitted that he allegedly regrets that you two had a fling. Could have just apologized and asked that you focus on your friendship from here on out."

"I don't get why he'd want to hurt me, though." Mia flapped her arms. "I'm stumped. And pissed. I was already angry, thanks to what Dionne did. Speaking of that, did she deny it?"

Sensing that Mia wanted to change the subject, Ella went with it. "Until she realized we have cameras, yes. She was actually surprised that we fired her. I can't think why."

"Seems like people are set on acting strange today." Mia sighed at the shop door.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"Fine. You go handle whatever situation Neve has tossed your way. I'm good here."

"You're sure? I can cancel—"

"I'm completely sure." Mia tilted her head. "Did Neve give you specifics?"

"Just that human friends of the Mills were asking to speak with me, wanting my help with a ‘personal matter'." Ella shrugged. "Hopefully it won't be a weird one."

"Our house is haunted."

Ella blinked at the middle-aged blonde sitting across from her. "Haunted?" She glanced to the woman's husband, who stared back at her steadily.

Though pleased that she'd arrived as promised, the couple hadn't invited Ella into their grand Victorian home. They'd urged her to follow them through the side gate that led to their backyard. It was beautifully maintained, bordered by trees similar to those in the massive wooded area behind this particular street of houses.

Very ‘Zen' with the pretty pond, Japanese-style bridge, and stone lanterns, the garden possessed a relaxing feel. But there was nothing relaxed about the humans sitting opposite Ella at the patio table. They were nervous. Twitchy. Looked a little worn-down.

The woman, Nestor, licked her lips. "The Mills said you helped them with a similar situation. That you got rid of whatever was in their home."

Ella couldn't say that the situations were similar, since they so far didn't appear to be. "Why don't you tell me a little about what's been happening?" she invited.

"There was nothing until four months ago," replied Nestor's husband, Martin. "We've lived here a decade, never had any issues. Then bam , the place turned into a hub of supernatural activity."

Nestor rubbed her arm. "Things move around by themselves. Or they go missing and then turn up in odd places."

"And by move around, she doesn't mean something as simple as a glass sliding along a kitchen counter," added Martin. "We've had objects thrown at us. The TV was knocked off the wall. Light bulbs randomly implode. Food gets taken out of the fridge and dumped over the floor. Our bedcovers were once yanked away from us in the middle of the night, and something laughed . It was a horrible sound."

"We hear footsteps in the attic, but nothing is up there—we've checked," said Nestor, a manic light in her eyes that conveyed she'd reached her limit. "Or, at least, it's nothing we can see."

Okay, well, they definitely had a preternatural problem of some sort.

Martin thrust a hand through his russet-brown hair, making it stick up in parts. The poor guy was the picture of frazzled. "We had the local priest bless the house, but it didn't help. We're hoping that you can."

Ella had helped with hauntings in the past. For her, it wasn't a matter of banishing spirits or guiding them to ‘the light'. She simply used magick to provide enough of a tear in the veil between this realm and that of the dead for the ghosts to slip through. Though, yes, sometimes she had to give them a violent magickal shove to get them moving. Not all wanted to pass on; some clung tight to their old lives.

She leaned forward slightly. "How about you two stay out here while I go take a walk around the house?" she proposed. "Would that be okay?"

Relief rippled over Nestor's face. "That would be fine. Anything you can do would be fine."

Martin gave Ella a jerky nod. "Thank you for not laughing at us or telling us we're going crazy." He flicked a look at the patio doors. "They're unlocked."

She flashed the couple a gentle smile, pushed out of her chair, and crossed to the doors. Slipping into the house, she glanced around. All dark woods with the typical Victorian color scheme of red, brown, and blue, the place was stylish and neat as a pin. Though modern, it had retained its original features such as the terracotta tiled floor.

Her fingertips prickling with her at-the-ready magick, she advanced through the house; explored the kitchen, dining room, large den, and half-bath before making her way upstairs.

She'd walked through haunted locations before. They had a certain feel to them. An atmosphere that was coldly electric. There was no such vibe here, but she didn't believe that the humans were lying. Their fear and exhaustion were very real.

Wood creaked.

Ella halted in the master bedroom, her head jerking up. The sound had come from above. Narrowing her eyes, she made her way to the hallway and moved to stand beneath the attic's rectangular hatch door. She released a thread of magick and used it to tug down both the hatch and the attached fold-down metal ladder.

She snapped her hands around the cool metal as she began to ascend the ladder. Reaching the attic, she felt her nose wrinkle. The stale air stank of dust, mold, and old fabric.

The space was predictably dim, the only shaft of light coming through the sole circular window, which was positioned at the front of the house. Cobwebs dangled from the exposed wooden beams. A fine layer of dust seemed to coat every surface. Shadowy spots were everywhere.

She called on her magick, shaping it into four balls of light. She tossed one into each corner of the attic, giving her a better view. Sheets were draped over pieces of furniture. Boxes—some sealed, some open—were stacked here and there. Filled garbage bags were scattered around. Random items could be seen, such as an old trunk and a broken sewing machine.

Winding her way through the cramped space, she paused at the slight give of the floorboard beneath her. Something caught her eye. A rumpled blanket. Beside it were candy wrappers, a flashlight, and some comic books.

Muffled footsteps coming from the other side of the attic.

Ella didn't whirl around. She planted her feet and chanted beneath her breath as she sent out a wave of magick. It slammed the attic hatch closed, flicked the lock on the window, and further illuminated the space. Only then did she turn. A young teenager stood several feet away, poised as if to run for the hatch.

"You won't get it open," she warned, studying him. He was thin and pale with dull-blond, unkempt hair. He was also a demon. Imp , she sensed. "Just what would you be doing here?"

He jutted out his chin. "I'm not here to steal."

"No?" She cast the candy wrappers a quick glance. "I doubt you bought that food."

His cheeks reddened. "I was hungry."

He was also in need of a wash and fresh clothes. "Which lair do you belong to?"

"I don't belong to any. I'm a stray."

She gifted him an impatient look. "Don't lie to me. I'd rather not have to hurt you to get answers, but I will."

He glared at her, but his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Jolene Wallis' lair."

"Want to tell me why you're hiding out here terrorizing a human couple?"

His brows snapped together. "I'm not terrorizing them."

"You used telekinesis to make them think their house is haunted. You made them feel unsafe in their own home. You were trying to scare them into leaving."

He averted his gaze, his shoulders hunching.

She slanted her head. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

He shot her a belligerent look. "My family wants to move away. I don't."

"So this is a protest. You ran off to make a point." She heaved a sigh, and her demon rolled its eyes. "They're probably worried sick about you. Something you know well, since they're likely telepathing you."

"If they are, I wouldn't know. I'm not close to home, and I can't receive telepathic messages over long distances."

Neither could Ella, actually. "What's your name?"

He hesitated. "Jacques. Look, I don't know why … Wait, what are you doing?"

Having pulled out her cell phone, she scrolled through her list of contacts. "I'm going to call a friend of mine. I feel for you, kid, I do. But you can't stay here, and I think you know that."

It took a few rings before Levi answered simply, "Hey." The reaper wasn't what you'd call chatty.

"Listen, I have an imp situation. But I don't have a way to personally contact Jolene Wallis. I was hoping you might, what with Harper being her granddaughter."

"What kind of situation?" Levi asked.

She elaborated, watching Jacques' flush deepen in what seemed to be embarrassment.

"Imps," said the reaper with a disgruntled sigh. "I'll get word to Jolene. She'll probably send someone to pick the kid up."

"Thanks." Not wanting to bring more imps here—mostly because she didn't trust that they wouldn't nab some antiques to take with them—Ella gave him the location of the coffee shop on the corner of the street. "We'll wait for them there." She rounded up the conversation and tucked away her phone.

Sulkily, Jacques folded his arms. "My family's gonna lose their mind."

"Maybe, but they'll also be relieved to have you back. Now, I'm going to go tell the humans who own this house that it's no longer plagued by ghosts, since I can't exactly tell them the truth. You are going to sneak out of here. I'll meet you at the coffee shop. Ignore any temptation you have to make a run for it. Such a move won't end well for you."

He mumbled something under his breath but nodded in acquiescence.

In the backyard, she had a quick chat with the humans, informing them that ‘the spirits' were at peace and had moved on. They were beyond relieved.

As she was walking to her car, her step faltered and her stomach dropped. Because something was tucked under her windscreen wiper.

Scanning her surroundings, Ella registered nothing suspicious as she crossed to her car. She snatched what turned out to be a folded slip of crinkled paper from under the wiper. Opening up the slip, she frowned. It read: You know what happened to the curious cat.

Like with the previous note, the ink shimmered with power. Another snare.

Ella bit back a curse, angry sparks yo-yoing around her belly. Her demon prowled to the forefront of her consciousness, tense and braced for battle.

Whether this was the work of whoever psychically assaulted her, Ella didn't know. But it definitely wasn't someone playing a simple prank—you didn't follow a person around just to play jokes on them.

Fucker.

What bothered her way more than the note itself was that he'd touched her vehicle again. He'd been physically far too close to Ella twice. And she hadn't known.

Gnashing her teeth together, she tore the note in two, deactivating the snare. She so didn't have time for this right now.

Putting a pin in the matter, she drove to the coffee shop, half-expecting to find no sign of Jacques. But he was sulkily slumped on a chair at one of the outdoor tables. Once she'd parked her car, Ella joined him at the table.

It was no more than thirty seconds later that two familiar imps from Jolene's lair came striding out of the nearby alley. Ella was guessing one of them could teleport, because no cars had driven down there, and it was a dead-end.

The siblings—who were also Jolene's grandchildren—greeted her with chin-tips and then moved to stand in front of Jacques, their faces molding into masks of disappointment. He all but shrank under the weight of their disapproval.

Khlo? shook her head. "Dude, I'm all for rebelling. But imps don't run. We stir shit, we break bones, we set fires, we bathe in the blood of our enemies. But running? Never."

Jacques grimaced. "I know. Sorry."

"Great pep talk," Ella deadpanned.

Khlo? smiled, smug. "I thought so. Thanks for bringing this little matter to my lair's attention."

"No problem."

"Jacques, over here," Ciaran ordered.

The teenager didn't hesitate to obey, his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.

"We'll see you around," Khlo? said, saluting her.

"Take care," Ella told the three imps.

Ciaran responded with a chin-tip while Jacques just glowered petulantly.

Ella might have smiled at the latter if she wasn't feeling ready to murder the crap out of someone. She returned to her car, pulled out her phone, and called her sister.

"Greetings, bitch," Mia answered so lovingly.

"I got another note," said Ella, the earlier sparks of anger rekindling in her belly.

" What ?"

"It was left under my windscreen wiper, just like the last one. It has a similar tone, too—threatening, yet in a non-scary way." As she'd deactivated the snare, Ella was able to say aloud: " You know what happened to the curious cat. "

Mia let out a dark hum. "The first note mentioned sleeping dogs. Now curious cats. Maybe our boy is an animal lover."

Rubbing at her temple, Ella let her head tilt back to hit the headrest. "It feels like this is some sort of game to him."

Mia made a speculative noise in the back of her throat. "Was there power embedded in the ink?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't think it's a mere game. He has a purpose here."

Ella righted her head. "But the compulsion could be something minor, like to make me shave off a chunk of my hair for his own amusement."

"He could be having fun, but I don't think the compulsion is something as innocuous as that. Neither do you."

As it happened, no, Ella didn't think so either. She'd just prefer for that to be the case. "My demon is raging right now."

" I'm raging. He must be following you. That takes the threat level up a notch, because it's stalkerish behavior. Not that I think he's what you would call a typical obsessed stalker, but he's certainly employing dark tactics."

Yes, but why ?

"We should lay some kind of magickal trap for him. Bespell your window wipers, maybe."

Ella's demon perked up at the idea. "Ooh, I'm liking the endless possibilities sifting through my brain right now. We'll definitely get on that."

"In the meantime, be careful, Ella," Mia half-pled, half-warned. "Seriously careful."

"I will. I'm not dismissing this as a silly prank, I promise."

"Good. Now I'm wishing I went with you. I don't like that you're alone right now."

"I'm fine. Not hurt, not scared, just pissed." Ella wasn't about to allow this idiocy to ruin her day, though it would for sure play on her mind if she didn't distract herself. On that note … "You up to anything later?"

"Actually," began Mia, a mischievous note lacing her voice, "I'm thinking of venturing to the Red Rooms."

Ella blinked. "Seriously?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"It's owned by the Black Saints. You know that, right?"

"It's not as if the Fallen are the only people who go there. Demons are regular patrons. So are oblivious humans. I've heard it's the kind of club where a person can go get laid right there on the dance floor and then head on home. I prefer that over the idea of taking someone home with me. I just want to get fucked—no conversations, no aftermath, no exchanging numbers."

"And they say romance is dead."

Mia barked a light laugh. "I'm done with romance for a while. But that doesn't mean I should have to forgo sex, does it?"

"There are similar clubs in the Underground. Why not head to one of those?"

"Because I want to go somewhere different. And I'm curious to see if this place really lives up to its hype."

"You're not going there alone, are you?"

"No. You're coming with me."

Ella snorted. "I am?"

"Yup. You're my wing-woman, remember? And you need a release valve, too. Come on, wouldn't you like someone to fuck the annoyance you're feeling right out of you?"

"Having sex with a stranger in public isn't my jam." Ella was no shy flower, but she wasn't an exhibitionist either. And intimacy felt awkward for her when it was someone she didn't know or trust.

"Make an exception," Mia urged.

"Look, I'll come with you so that you're not going alone, but I'll just hang at the bar."

" Boring ," her sister droned.

"Yeah, that's me. Totally boring. What time do you want to leave?"

"Say … eight-thirty?"

"I'll be ready."

"See you then. Remember to stay vigilant," Mia pushed. "And make sure you tell Luka about the note."

"I'm going to call him after I get off the phone with you."

Luka didn't take the news any better than Mia did. He spat out a gust of Russian words that were a mix of curses and threats. "As if it isn't bad enough that he psychically assaulted you," he began, a gruff edge to his voice, "he now dares follow you and hand-delivered yet another note."

"He's not scaring me, if that's his plan," said Ella.

"Doesn't matter. Fucking with you this way, leaving written snares for you that have God knows what intent, isn't acceptable."

Ella tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. "I think he's getting ballsier, even if his notes are still petulant."

" I think I'm going to subject him to several kinds of twisted, torturous, mind-warping pain and may not stop for a very long time."

And what could she really say to that except … "Oh. Okay."