No, love. He’s moved on through the Veil.
My mood shifted and I felt unaccountably sad. If he really was gone, I’d never talk to him again. Once someone moved through the Veil, they were usually gone for good. Feeling a little morose, I turned back to the trunks and Ari.
“All right, let’s get started on these.” I randomly picked one and we set to sorting through the items. Most of the contents consisted of old china and knickknacks that were family mementos. But I also knew that I’d never use most of it, and I hated just packing things away.
“All of this can go,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not keeping stuff I will never use, and that I don’t have an attachment to just because they’re family history.” I paused, picking up a gorgeous perfume bottle. “This, however, I’ll keep. I have a feeling I’m going to be starting a perfume bottle collection!”
“You think there’s a djinn inside?” Ari asked, grinning.
“I hope not. One was enough.” I popped the top and sniffed. “Ooo, whoever wore this, liked spicy perfume.” I set it aside. “I wonder how Rameer is doing. I hope he comes back to visit like he said he would.” I had freed a djinn trapped in a perfume bottle that I had bought at a thrift store, and after we located his original bottle, he had gone home to his own realm.
“I hope he’s okay. I liked him.” Ari held up a pair of tarnished silver candlesticks. “What about these?”
“Give away,” I said, shaking my head. “I mostly use battery-operated candles due to Xi and Klaus. And when I use actual candles with candle holders, I prefer crystal.” My kittens were barely four months old and far too curious. Candles that produced actual flame I reserved for ritual use, and I scrupulously made sure they were extinguished when I was done.
We had worked our way through eight of the ten trunks when I paused, frowning. I looked around. Something felt off, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. I listened, hard, but heard nothing. A glance around the room gave me no clue, but it felt like a shadow had fallen across the afternoon.
“What time is it?”
Ari glanced at her phone. “It’s almost four. We’ve been at it nearly four hours.”
“Let’s take a break. I’m tired,” I said, setting down the crystal bowl I had just found. It was beautiful. “This is pretty,” I said, holding it up. A delicate rose pattern wound around the side. “But I have one that’s almost identical.”
Ari’s eyes widened. “That’s gorgeous. Meagan would love it.”
I handed it to her. “Then give it to her with my regards.”
“Are you sure?” She took the crystal bowl, examining it. “This looks old.”
“I’m sure. It’s lovely, but I doubt if I’d use it.”
We headed down the steps, Ari carrying the bowl. At the bottom, there were three big bags of things to give away, not counting everything I was planning to ask Killian to carry down from the attic. I did one last sweep, making sure the kittens hadn’t gotten themselves up there when we weren’t looking, and closed up the trap door for the time being.
“We’ll finish later, just leave the stepstool here,” I said, wiping my brow. Even as clean as the attic had been, I felt grungy and dusty.
We stopped in my bathroom to wash our hands and faces, and then headed downstairs for more coffee and a snack. As I pulled shots for the lattes, my mood began to lighten, and I found myself breathing easier. Whatever cloud had sent me into a spiral had vanished, and once again, I relaxed and was able to enjoy the rest of the afternoon, talking to Ari about her wedding plans.
That evening, Killian and I returned to the attic. He had been working at the clinic all day—he was a veterinarian—and after Ari left, I had made dinner. While he was also my next-door neighbor, we spent at least three to four nights together each week.
“Love, how are you?” he asked, entering the kitchen. We had passed the key-milestone, and had exchanged keys to each other’s homes.
“Tired. We made a lot of headway, but I need your help carrying things down from the attic that were too heavy or bulky for Ari and me.” I glanced at the oven and set the timer for forty-five minutes. “Lasagna will be ready within the hour, and I made a salad.”
“Today’s the new moon, don’t you have a ritual to perform?”
I shook my head. “I’ll meditate later, but I want to get the attic taken care of tonight, if possible.”
Killian kissed me on the nose, then motioned for me to follow him. “Let’s get busy then.”
Killian O’Connell was a bit taller than I was—I was five-nine—and he had curly, shoulder-length light brown hair and emerald green eyes. A small scar on his cheek gave him a slightly roguish look. He told me he had gotten it from treating a wounded lynx for a wildlife conservatory during his early days as a vet. He was muscled but not bulky, and I felt safe around him.
“You really did go through things,” he said, staring at the pile of items I was getting rid of that had been either too large or too delicate to put in the garbage bags.
“Yeah. While you start carrying them down, I think I’ll tackle the last two trunks tonight.” I glanced around and opened the nearest. To my surprise—and relief—it was empty.
That left a small trunk in the corner, one that had been hidden behind the rest of them. Something about it called to me, and I felt that same wave of uncertainty I had felt earlier. Frowning, I picked up the surprisingly heavy chest and hoisted it over to the crafting table. The chest was about the size of a small footlocker—about two feet long, and fifteen inches both deep and high. It was shaped like an old-fashioned treasure chest, and there was a padlock on it.
“I wonder where the key is for this,” I said. I glanced at Killian. “Can you pick the lock?”
“What makes you think I can pick locks at all?” he asked, laughing. “I’m a veterinarian, not a thief.”
“You never know what talents someone has unless you ask,” I said, grinning. “If you can’t pick it, can you bust it?”
He examined the padlock. “Do you have any bolt cutters?”
I thought through what I had seen in the garage. “If I do, they were my father’s, and they would be in his work area. Let me go look.”
Leaving him with the chest, I dashed down the stairs, then into the kitchen, to the door leading into the garage. Once in the garage, I poked around the tool bench. My father had been extremely organized and I found the bolt cutters right away. They were hanging on the peg board in back of the bench. I grabbed them, along with a crowbar—it seemed like a good idea—and headed back up to the attic.
Killian took the cutters and snapped the padlock as though it were butter. Shifters were incredibly strong, and with the right tool, they could break through a number of things humans couldn’t. Or even those of us with witchblood. He set the cutters aside and motioned to me.
“Your chest. You do the honors.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Silly man,” I said, but I slowly lifted the lid. Most of the chests hadn’t been locked, and that this one had been alerted my attention. I felt pulled toward the chest, as though there was something magical inside, or something important that I needed to see.