I recounted the entire story. How I’d awakened, gone to the kitchen and had a conversation with a monstrous thing that claimed to be a Jersey Devil, by all the gods, had a pronounced Jersey accent.
“You know, if you said ‘Jersey Devil’ to anybody who’s not me they’d say that’s a hockey player.” With a slight shudder, I added, “I kind of wish that’s what I still thought, too. Anyhow, I woke up early and assumed it’d been an unusually vivid dream. But when I arrived in the kitchen, the rock that ‘tells the future of virgins’ was sitting on the island just as it had been in my, um…”
“Recollection?” he offered, when it was clear I was stumped for an appropriate word.
“Yeah. My recollection.” Keir stared into his teacup. “Come on. Of the two of us, you’re the one with nine hundred plus years of magic kind experience. Give.”
“I admit that, comparatively, I have more experience in matters of magic. But hard as it may be to believe, I’m not an authority on everything.”
“Every woman in a relationship lives to hear those words.”
“Funny.”
“What’s not funny is that this pretty pink crystal, which may or may not have mystical power, was delivered to my kitchen while we slept.” My gaze jerked to Keir. “How likely is it that you’d sleep through a break-in? I mean I could. Sure. But not you! For that matter, my house isn’t supposed to let people… or creatures, in without my permission. Right?”
“Right.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
I chuffed. “How. Did. This. Get. Here?”
“I don’t know, but being out of sorts with me will not solve your mystery, will it?” At that moment Keir sounded irritatingly English. Or maybe I was just irritated. He rose, cup in hand. “I’m going to my room to see if there’s some American football on.”
“It’s the middle of the night in the U.S.”
“Reruns.”
I let him walk out because I was behaving badly and didn’t seem to be able to dial the bitchmeter back. The idea of monsters prowling around my house in the middle of the night was unsettling to the core, even if their purpose was to leave gifts and messages.
A pop of green wood sap brought my gaze to the dancing fire in my counter-height kitchen fireplace. The light reflected on the planes of the crystal was hypnotic.
“What are you really?” I whispered to the crystal. “And why are you here?”
Resolve didn’t creep up. It hit me like a lightning bolt. I practically jumped out of the chair and raced to the bedroom. Without paying much attention to what I was grabbing, I pulled on jeans, comfy shoes, and a long sweater. I power-walked back to the kitchen, grabbed the virgin oracle, and left without telling Keir where I was going. If he’d found football, I’d probably be back before he knew I’d been gone.
I hoped Esmerelda would be in the shop early because, I realized, I didn’t know where she lived. Of course, the village was small enough that I could probably stand on the green and yell her name until somebody told me where to find her, but that wouldn’t be my first choice.
Luck was with me. The old iron latch on the shop door moved when I gripped the handle. I was probably too winded for someone who’d only jogged three blocks, but I decided to consider the implications of that later.
“Esmerelda,” I called. “The door was unlocked. Please tell me you can give me five minutes.”
She drifted in with a raised eyebrow. “I’m terribly busy,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “And it’s very early.”
“Of course. I’d never want to take your schedule for granted, but I’ve experienced an inexplicable event. And the door was unlocked,” I repeated.
I could tell by the instant change in her demeanor that she was interested, but she sounded terse anyway.
“Inexplicable to whom? You?” After a slight dramatic pause, she added. “Or me?”
“Well, that’s why I’m here. You’re the queen soothsaying. So nothing, no matter how strange, is beyond you.”
Esme’s self-satisfied smile told me she’d been flattered and placated enough to be primed to help.
“Very well. Would you like tea?”
“Just had some. It sloshed around on my jog over here.”
“You ran?” Her eyebrow came back up.
“I’m not sure it qualified as ‘running’, but it was something more than walking.”
“What is so urgent?” At that point her eyes found the rock I was gripping and lingered there. She gestured toward the little table where we usually sat for tea and consultation in silent invitation. After we sat, she said, “Is that a gift for me?”
My gaze jerked to the pink crystal. Her question threw me off. Because even though I was the furthest thing from a geology buff or rock collector, my hand tightened around the show-and-tell I’d brought. It seemed I didn’t like the idea of parting with it.
“Um. Well. While I would love to make you a gift of almost anything I have, that’s not why I brought this.”
“Very well. Why did you bring it?”
I spilled the entire story in three breaths, which meant I talked fast. For me.
“I understand that the assassin might warn you of the danger.” She glanced away and pressed her lips together like she was perturbed. “Since Maeve and her lot didn’t bother. My sense is that it was a courtesy call. Nice, really. The reason behind the gift is what’s really interesting about this.”
I was shaking my head. “Disagree on two counts. First, ‘interesting’ is too mild an expression for this event. I think scary or anxiety-ridden would be more appropriate descriptions. Second, it’s not the gift that’s the worry. It’s that this self-confessed Devil was in my house. My house that has state-of-the-art fae security! And, even more worrisome. It didn’t wake Keir!” I took a breath and blew it out. “Then there’s the confusion about whether I was asleep or awake. I have a vivid memory of getting up, going to the kitchen, and talking to the monster. Calmly, if I do say so myself.” I was rather proud of that. “I don’t remember going back to bed, but when I woke up, I remembered the whole thing and it felt like it happened. In the flesh.”
“Hmmm.”
“If you don’t have more to give me than that I may need whiskey instead of tea.”
“I don’t have whiskey.”
“Literal much?”
“I’m not the one suggesting hard liquor before breakfast.” Esme’s brow formed the scowl that meant she was trying to decide if I’d asked a question that was rhetorical or one that required a response. “Never mind. Moving on to the chase. Did I get an in-person visit from that thing or not?”
My phone growled like the MGM lion. What could be a more perfect ringtone for Keir? And it had never failed to make me smile. Until now.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?”
“Esme’s.”
“You didn’t say you were leaving.”
“I thought you’d be occupied with sports-o-rama long enough that you’d never know I was gone.”