Page 107 of Sigils & Spells

I gave her a reassuring smile. “My brain exploded like Mt. Vesuvius, but I’m okay now. I just need a moment.”

“All right.” She squeezed my knee gently, then stood. “I’ll check on Stella. I want to reach out to a few more people, but only if she isn’t swamped out there. You’re really okay?”

“I am.” Liar. Liar.

My gaze landed on the forgotten caramel latte sitting on the table. I laid the amethyst down and retrieved the cup. Taking a few minutes to collect myself, I finished off the room-temperature drink and considered what I’d say when I talked to Harding. I didn’t want to sound like a blithering idiot. And if I blurted out what I’d just learned the Detective would, rightfully, wonder where I’d gotten my information. Well, he probably wouldn’t be curious. He’d assume I had firsthand knowledge and issue a warrant for my arrest.

Admonishing myself not to be so melodramatic, I called the Paranormal Enforcement Division.

Between the first and second rings, I wavered, debating who to ask for. It would be easier to explain everything to Aidan. He probably wouldn’t arrest me if I slipped up and mentioned Jonah’s presence in the room. I should set aside my bruised feelings and talk to him.

After the third ring, the operator answered.

“This is Marin Girard. I’d like to speak to Detective Harding about Jonah Budney’s case.”

I didn’t know what it said about me that I’d rather talk to the man who thought I was involved in a murder rather than the guy who called me self-centered.

Five minutes later, I deeply regretted my decision.

“So let me get this straight, Ms. Girard. You want me to talk to a woman with a lip ring who wears a big stone on her left hand because you think she stole some goats from a petting zoo.”

I winced at his scathing tone. “I can send you the clip.”

“You don’t know her name,” he continued. “You know nothing about this person other than she bought something at your store and walked out with a member of Rafi’s household.”

“If you’d talk to Vixen—”

“I have two active cases right now, neither of which is a theft case. Please stop wasting my time, Ms. Girard.” He hung up.

Well, that was an epic fail. Maybe once he cooled off he’d make the connection between the goat thief and Raven’s death and call me back.

Probably not.

Hopefully, whoever was handling the Dalton theft cases would be more receptive to my information. I pressed Livie’s number and nearly threw my phone across the room in frustration when I got her voicemail again. “Livie, please call me when you get this message.”

Why hadn’t she called me back already?

My phone pinged. Scarlett texted the phone number for Rafi’s residence. I hesitated, suddenly nervous about making the call. Rationally, I knew the chances of Rafi answering the phone himself were slim to none. He had underlings galore. Yet something inside me quailed at the prospect of talking to the Prime.

Feeling twitchy I stood and walked out into the hall. I started pacing, turning my phone over and over in my hands while I gave myself a mental pep talk. On the fourth lap, I made the call.

A deep, gravelly male voice answered with an anticlimactic, “Yeah?”

I’d expected a more formal greeting from a Prime’s household. Had Scarlett given me the wrong number? “May I speak to Vixen?”

“Yeah.” He put me on hold.

I resumed pacing while I waited.

“This is Vixen.” Her voice was low and sultry.

“Hello, this is Marin Girard from Besoins.”

There was a long stretch of silence before she spoke again, this time in a far less welcoming tone. “What do you want?”

“You came into the shop with a friend yesterday. A platinum-blonde witch.”

Another long pause. “I wouldn’t call her a friend.”

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