Page 74 of Bright Dark Curses

“Back door?”

“Yep.” Together, we made our way around the house as silently as possible. Dorsey kept a narrow, graveled path between the wall of the building and the pretty flowers lining the fence, so we didn’t have to fight with wild vegetation. The downside was each step was like munching on the crunchiest cereal on earth. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ian heard what we were up to all the way at the bounty hunters’ headquarters.

The back of the house sported a cozy porch with a couple of rattan chairs overlooking a tiny, well-kept backyard. The fence was taller, giving a sense of privacy.

Key went up the steps onto the deck and approached the back door.

“You think it’s alarmed?” she whispered.

Knowing the state of Olmeda citizens’ poor security systems, doubtful. “Nope. Plus, guests obviously use this place sometimes.” I took out a pair of thin plastic gloves straight from my green dye sets. “Here.”

Key shook her head, then gripped the handle. As always when she used her earth magic, nothing shifted in the atmosphere or gave any indication that magic was being used. A second later, a soft click indicated a bolt had turned.

Biting her tongue in concentration, Key used the cuff of her zip-up hoodie to clean the handle and open the door.

Another bonding session was in order, I decided right there and then. This one pertaining buying her a proper winter jacket. It’d be a perfect early Christmas present.

We entered the house and closed the door behind us. A long hallway stretched ahead, decorated with picturesque paintings and a narrow table with a lace doily and a vase full of dahlias. Very cozy. Very lovely.

A perfect example that you couldn’t judge a book by its cover.

As silent as possible, we crept toward the front of the house. The staircase started right next to the two parlors and the reception counter, so if we managed to slip by unnoticed, we should be in the clear. I doubted Dorsey bothered going upstairs once she was done searching her new arrivals’ belongings.

Luckily, Dorsey was still on the phone, and her loud, strident laughter made me think she would be for a bit longer. I gave Key the go-ahead signal, and we both slipped around the end post and began up the stairs. The steps were covered in carpet, which had to be a pain to clean but great for our purposes.

We climbed fast, eager to get out of the line of sight, until my foot landed on the last step and a resounding creak filled the air.

We froze, holding our breaths. But when Dorsey let out another peal of laughter, we relaxed. We were safe.

Key avoided the last step and joined me on the landing. “Which room?” she asked in a whisper.

“I’m not sure.”

I considered the hallway. There were three rooms on each side and another set of stairs going on to the third floor. If I were an actress, I’d want to avoid the front windows looking onto the street.

“Let’s start with the back.”

Key nodded, and we made our way through the hallway to the two back sets of rooms. After plastering my ear onto the door and making sure no sounds came from the room, I gave Key the go ahead. She opened the lock, which was an old-school key type, and we peeked in. The bed was stripped, a folded quilt on top, and no belongings littered any surfaces.

After wiping her fingerprints, and me wiping my earprints, we approached the opposite room and repeated our listen-then-break-in system. This room was occupied, but judging from the suit hanging from the en-suite bathroom door and the aftershave scent lingering in the air, it belonged to a man rather than an actress.

When we opened the room next to that one, the lineup of heels and flats by the door caught my immediate attention. Nobody traveled to a bed and breakfast with that many shoes.

I gave Key a thumbs up and went inside. Key followed, closing the door behind her. She accepted one pair of gloves and put them on as she studied the room.

The room was bigger than the ones we’d already seen, with three windows that gave a rather uninspired view of a couple of trees and the next house’s wall. The bathroom had an old-style claw bathtub, and the bedroom itself had enough space for a small couch, a coffee table, and a desk. Four suitcases were open on the corners and by the bathroom door, and a collection of clothes littered every surface above the carpet.

“You think this is it?” Key whispered.

“Has to be. Who else needs so many clothes on a tourist trip?”

“Where should we start?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to suggest the bathroom—the most likely location to hide vials of dark magic as if they were cosmetics or lotions—but we were here to reconnect as much as to search, and the room gave me a better chance for that.

I went to the windows and drew the thick curtains closed. “Let’s start here. You take that suitcase, I’ll take the sofa.”

“Okay.”

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