40. Where Did You Get One of Those?

There was a knock at my back door. I slid the cake tins in the oven, one vanilla, one raspberry, one lemon, closed the oven door, and then followed the sound of the knock. Opening the blinds, I saw Bracken with a journal in his hand. I let him in.

"Good evening. I know it's late, but I saw your light on. Any word from your man?"

I waved him in and closed the door. "I—actually I'm not sure what I did—astral projection, maybe? Anyway, I was able to be with him and watch the challenge. He won. The pack seems content to have him at the helm, so I'm hopeful and baking a cake. I already made some brownies, if you'd like one."

He blinked, taking all of that in, and then nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"Great. Why don't you have a seat?" I went back to the kitchen. "What would you like to drink?"

He thought a moment. "Milk, if you have it."

"I do." I brought him a plated brownie, a glass of milk, and a napkin before going back for my own, a tea mug, and a fork.

He took a bite and closed his eyes. "The Goddess favored you with many gifts. This is divine."

"Thank you. So, what's in the journal?"

"Oh, yes." He put down his plate, wiped his fingers clean, and then picked up his journal. "I found another reference to The Shades. It's at the water's edge and spelled to be hidden, like your grandmother's house. If a human were to stumble upon it, they'd see a derelict hut that looks like it's one strong gust of wind from collapsing. They'd also be struck with a desperate need to get away from it.

"For those with a magical eye, it appears to be a vacant stone cottage. One has to pass through a ward—from what this says, a very powerful ward—in order to see the real house."

"Any more specific information on location?" I asked.

"Well." He held up a finger and pulled from the back of the journal a ragged piece of paper that looked as though it had been folded and refolded countless times. "This is a hand-drawn map of the area dated 1854. There is what I believe to be the word Shades on the tip of this cliff right here."

I moved over to sit beside him and study the map.

"Now, unfortunately, this wasn't drawn by a cartographer, so it bears little resemblance to the actual coastline. If, however, we assume this curve here is the Monterey Bay, then this outcropping would be Pacific Grove and the Del Monte Forest, and that would put The Shades somewhere near the Lone Cypress."

"Isn't that Pebble Beach?"

"Not all of it, no. There are residences as well. And again, if this is private property that's been spelled to look like trees and bushes hiding a derelict shack, it's no doubt been overlooked."

"That's the 17-Mile Drive. Tourists are driving by all the time."

He nodded. "It's a powerful spell." He refolded the map and tucked it back into his journal. "I could be reading it wrong, but I don't think so. What do you say we go for a little drive tomorrow?"

Forgetting, I grabbed his wrist, and he only flinched a little. "Thank you so much for coming, for all the work you've been doing. We never would have gotten this far without you."

"Oh, well." He looked embarrassed but pleased. "I'll get back to my research and let you cook. May I?" He gestured to the plated brownie and milk.

"Absolutely. Take it. I know where to find you."

Chuckling, he stood, pocketing the journal before picking up the glass and plate. "You do, indeed. If I find anything more and your lights are on, I'll tell you."

"Perfect. And I'll bring you some cake tomorrow." I went with him and opened the door, as his hands were full.

"Something to look forward to," he said as he shuffled back home.

I started on the frosting while the cake layers baked. Declan had once said he liked coconut. I hoped that was true because I was making coconut frosting.

While the layers cooled and the frosting was refrigerated, I received a text.

Detective Hernández: Call me when you get up.

As I was up, I called.

She answered on the first ring. "Why are you awake? Is this a bad night?"

"No. It's a full moon night. I'm waiting up for Declan," I said, plopping down on the couch.

"Full m—oh. So that's true about…" She trailed off.

"It is."

"Okay. Something to think about later. I just wanted you to know we have Brandon in custody too."

"What? That was fast."

"We got a warrant to search Dorian's room on the Cypress campus and found blood in the bathroom sink drain. We also found a document on his laptop where they'd been recording each incident of revenge since they were in school. Brandon was easy to find once we knew who Dorian was. Since you said Brandon was the weak link, we interrogated him first. He was trying to play it off like it was all a big misunderstanding, so he didn't call for a lawyer."

"Putz."

"Truly," she said. "Anyway, we were able to hit him with so much information from you that he was crying in no time and rolling over to put all the blame on Dorian. Now, Dorian is no fool. His lawyer's doing all the talking at this point, but we have the dean's blood in his drain—we're pretty sure. We're waiting for the lab to confirm.

"And we have the document that clearly states he killed Pearl because she had turned him in and ruined his summer. We also found the case with the makeup and face putty he'd used to alter his appearance enough that Pearl didn't recognize him. And, of course, we have the photos Brandon had taken of Garza right before he killed him, his fingerprints on the shovel, as well as years of texts between the two, crowing about their successes."

"So, that's it," I said. "They're locked up and can't hurt anyone else?"

"Mostly. As they both come from wealthy families, they'll probably end up with bail, but they'd be idiots to do anything more before trial. We're going to get them, Arwyn. We'll get justice for their victims. Oh, and you were right. There was a kid named Spencer who died in a car accident during his senior year. He also came from a very wealthy family, and we now have the ability to give his family the truth about their son's death."

"And you'll have an influential guy helping to push for these two to go to jail," I said.

"Oh, did I forget to say Spencer's dad is a judge and his mother is an heiress to like a billion-dollar fortune and that they were both devoted to their son?" She scoffed. "Do you know who my father is?" she mimicked. "No, but I know who Spencer's parents are.

"Brandon's pathetic," she continued. "Still a cold-blooded killer, but he just wanted to impress Dorian. He took lives to seem cool to another sociopath. Dorian, though, scares the shit out of me. I look into his eyes and they're dead. I've heard that term before, but I've never experienced it. He's evil."

"Yes," I said, feeling sick to my stomach that Pearl had spent any time with him at all, that anyone had.

"Oh, the other reason I was calling is to see if you wanted to let your aunt know they've been arrested or if you'd prefer it came from us."

"Thank you. I would like to be the one to tell her. I'll visit tomorrow. Thank you for thinking of that."

"Okay, good. Listen, I'm beat so I'm going to hang up now, but not before I thank you—Arthur and I both thank you. We never would have found them this quickly without you. More people would have died. On behalf of the police and those assholes' future victims and their loved ones, thank you."

"You're welcome. Now go to bed," I said.

"That I can do. Goodnight."

I sat with it for a bit, hoping they truly had been stopped and would soon be locked up for life. A chill ran down my spine. We had to find Calliope and her demon. They had to be stopped before their sorcery bled darkness into more pockets of our community.

I checked the time and forced myself to shake off the ugly thoughts. Declan was alive and well and I had a cake to frost. Working quickly, I assembled the cake, adding strawberry slices to the frosting between the layers, which may have been overkill, but it sounded good.

As I finished frosting, a thought occurred to me. Declan should drive Bracken and me tomorrow. Bracken's huge RV on that narrow, twisty road sounded harrowing. Plus, Declan could watch the road while we searched magically.

Knowing Bracken was up and I needed to kill time, I went to go talk to him. I was halfway across the deck when I heard the sound of heavy boots. On a yip of excitement, I spun and ran back as Declan came around the corner. I almost threw myself into his arms, but I felt something off, something dark, and skidded to a stop.

The silhouette of Otis, Daisy, and Jasper's heads popped out from the roofline and hissed.

Grinning, he held out his arms. "I did it! I'm the Alpha."

I moved back a few steps.

He kept his arms open. "Come give me a kiss and congratulate me."

I moved back another step. "Are you okay?"

"Never better." He finally dropped his arms and looked in the studio. "Mmm, have you been baking cookies?"

"I was worried you'd been hurt." Where was the wound on his jaw? The other bites and cuts could be under his clothes, but Logan had opened a gash on his jaw. And Declan would have recognized the scent of my brownies.

"Nope. I won easily." He lifted an arm and flexed his muscles. "Come here, honey."

I dove over the railing and into the ocean. This where my magic was at its strongest and I was going to need it, because that wasn't Declan.

When I surfaced, he was leaning on the railing, watching me. His eyes were off, though. They were full black, no whites around the irises. "Now, why would you do that?"

"Because you're a close personal friend of Calliope's." I flicked my fingers, pushing him back a foot.

On a laugh, he recovered and leaned on the railing again. "You'll have to do better than that. And we're not friends so much as colleagues. She's not terribly friendly, is she?"

That was just my opening salvo. While the demon chuckled and made a show of not being bothered by my magic, I was silently reciting the spell Sam had shown me in her grimoire. I sent it sailing and the demon went rigid, his black eyes going wide. His mouth opened in a silent scream and then he disappeared.

Unsure if that meant he was really gone, I continued to tread water for a few minutes. Cecil wrapped a tentacle around my arm and I rubbed it. "I'm okay now." He let go and I swam to the rope ladder Declan made me.

When I got to the top, I stood dripping for a moment, trying to decide if I should do a drying spell or if I had time to take a shower before Declan returned.

"That was rude." Demon Not Declan walked back around the side of the gallery. "You're going to come with me now or I'm going to destroy every piece of art in that gallery." His dark eyes gleamed with the threat. "Oh, you don't like that, do you?" He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the back door. "I should do it anyway for causing me pain."

He smiled sharply and I heard glass shatter.

Heart sinking, I leaned against the railing, ready to dive back in. "What does she want?"

"That's easy. To destroy you." His black eyes glittered in the moonlight.

"Why? What did we ever do to her?"

He waved a hand. "Who listens? She's like a gnat, buzzing in my ear." He clasped his hands together. "I have a proposal for you. If you come with me now and work with me, I'll help you become the most famous, most lauded artist in the world."

Shaking my head, I said, "I can do that on my own."

"Oh, careful." He waggled a finger at me. "Pride is one of the deadly sins."

"I don't truck with demons."

He tilted his head, studying me. "More's the pity. We always end up with ones like your cousin knocking on our door." He rolled his eyes. "What you and I could do together, though, would be amazing. Epic." He paused. "In fact, if you wanted me to take away that pesky inability to touch people without seeing and feeling horrors, I could do that. You could live a long, happy, horrorless life with me."

"I don't know. That sounds pretty horrific." My voice was steady, but I was trembling on the inside. My magic clearly wasn't up to battling demons.

"No." He shook his head. "It's not. But together, there's no limit to what you could accomplish."

I put up every mental block I could think of. Shit, shit shit.

"Oh, good," Bracken said. "Home safe and sound." He shuffled toward us, head bent, paging through his journal. "I've just found the most interesting passage and I believe it relates to what we were discussing earlier. Right here," he said, turning a page, "but then again, here it might contradict. I want to show you both."

No, no, no. Not poor Bracken.

The demon glanced at me, eyebrows raised, clearly tickled by this latest development.

"You can show us tomorrow," I said. "We'll come see you." Please, go away!

"Young love," he said, still staring down at the page. "I promise not to take up too much time. Where is it? Let's see, let's see." He turned another page. "I just had it."

I touched my earring, my lifeline to my father. "I need help."

The demon gave me a pouty face and then returned his amused gaze to Bracken.

Bracken stopped right beside Not Declan. "Ah, here it is." He tilted the page to show us a passage. He looked into the demon's gaze and said, "You see now, don't you?"

The demon's eyes went wide. His skin cracked open, revealing flames, and then he popped out of existence, leaving Bracken holding a journal in one hand and a dagger in the other.

A huge wave swamped the deck and a tall, muscular, very naked man with hair like mine, golden skin, and aqua blue eyes raised his silver sword, stalking toward Bracken.

"Wait!" I shouted. "Not him. That's my uncle. He just killed a demon." I turned to Bracken, who was sliding the dagger back into a leather sheath. "How did you do that?"

He shrugged, tucking the weapon into the pocket of his oversized cardigan. "I have a demon blade, and this seemed like the time to use it. I'm going to get back to work and let you catch up with your father." So saying, he turned and strolled back to his RV.

The man and I looked at each other. I kept my gaze trained above his neck.

"Pants would be good," I said.

He glanced down. The sword disappeared and fabric appeared.

"A toga?" I asked, quite confused.

"They're very comfortable. Pants are constricting. Is this all right?"

I nodded. "It's a good look on you."

He stood a little straighter. "You called for me."

"I did. There was a demon—"

He hissed, expression thunderous. "Foul things."

"True enough." There was an awkward silence and then I asked, "Would you like to sit down?" I gestured to one of the benches.

He was bigger and broader even than Declan, but he sat, leaving room beside him for me. "I like your home," he said. "The tentacles are a nice touch."

"Thanks." This was my father. I was sitting with my father. Shooting the shit with Dad. "Um, thanks for showing up so quickly. And with a sword. That was cool."

"You're welcome, but never thank the fae," he said.

"That's real?" Look at me, learning things from Dad.

"It is for some. Not for me, of course. It's best to be safe, though. If you instead said something like, It was good of you to come save me, Father, that would be nice."

Grinning, I said, "It was good of you to come save me, Father."

He nodded benevolently. "Anything for you, my child." Glancing around, he added, "You are an artist, are you not?"

"I am." Twenty-eight years of giddy bubbles were filling my insides. My dad was interested in me. He wanted to see what I did. I started to stand and then dropped back down on the bench. "Can you visit again, maybe on opening night? I mean, if you're busy and you can't come back, I'll give you the tour now, but it's not ready. I'd love for you to see it when I'm done painting and all my pieces are placed. If you can."

He looked out over the ocean. "You're inviting me back?"

"Yes, please. Unless you're too busy." Please come back.

Brow furrowed, he met my gaze. "What could be more important than my child?"

Eyes flooding with tears, I shrugged. "Tsunamis. Sharknados?"

He gave me a puzzled look and then said, "The ocean waits for me. Yes, I will return at your gallery opening."

I stood with him. "You will?"

"I'll even wear pants." The twinkle in his eye made the bubbles inside me burst with happiness. His head turned. "Your man has arrived." He tipped my chin up, studying my face before running his hand over my hair. "It's good to finally meet you, daughter." He leaned down, kissed my cheek, and then dove over the railing, disappearing into the ocean.

Declan walked around the corner, a huge gash on his jaw. He looked at me and then at the ocean. "Did I just hear a man call you daughter?"

"Yes!" I clapped like a demented toddler, jumping up on the bench so I was tall enough to then jump on Declan.

He caught me, spinning me around and kissing me senseless.

When we finally came up for air, I dropped little kisses all over his face. "You did it! Congratulations, Mr. Alpha!"

He laughed. "That's Sir Alpha."

I put my hand over his eyes, even though I totally knew it was him. "What did I bake tonight?"

"Brownies, which make me very happy, and something else. Vanilla, lemon, berries, sugar…did you make me a cake?"

I gave him one last loud kiss and then smacked his shoulder to let me down. "Yes! We have cake and brownies to celebrate. You're the new Alpha. My dad is coming to my opening. It's been a big night. Oh, and Bracken killed a demon."

He followed me into the studio and then stopped short. "He did what?"

"Come on in. I'll tell you all about it."