Page 7 of Wicked Deeds

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Cassandra asked.

“I’m going to assume you already know there was a nixling. But there’s not much to tell. Other than it being here, nothing happened.”

“Define ‘nothing’.”

“No one’s hurt or bleeding, and nothing’s on fire.”

When had that become my standard of something being an emergency or not? I drank more coffee, trying to drive away the sudden chill in my stomach. When had I reached the point where random magical creatures didn’t faze me unless they were actively trying to hurt someone or wreak havoc in some obvious way?

Cassandra grunted. “Hmm. But it did get inside the grounds?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ve checked the wards on the house and they seem fine. But I haven’t had time to look around outside yet. I wanted to wait for Mitch and Maia. Safety in numbers and all. Gráinne said something about some of them getting through wards easily. So there might be nothing to find.”

“Let’s hope not. And where is the creature now?”

I did the math after checking the time. By my estimation, Gráinne should be back at the Berkeley Rose Garden where the door to the Fae realm was hidden. At this time of night, traffic should be light, and it’d been thirty minutes or so since she’d left.

“I would imagine nearly back to the door, if they’re not inside already,” I said. “I called Callum. Callum called Gráinne. Gráinne came and grabbed the critter.” Fae pest control. Of a kind. Not that the nixlings were pests, as far as I knew. Callumand Gráinne had been friendly with the one we’d encountered in Cerridwen’s territory. They weren’t like afrits, which were the cockroaches of the demon world. If cockroaches were amenable to following orders, had magic and were able to, you know, kill people.

“It didn’t put up a fight?”

“No.”

“Does she know why it was there?”

I shrugged. “She talked to it—it seems they have that same telepathy thing Gráinne and Callum can do, but I couldn’t hear it. It wasn’t being cooperative. She said she didn’t think it was from Cerridwen’s territory.”

“That’s not concerning at all,” Cassandra said, shaking her head

“Don’t panic. Gráinne said they’re found in a few territories, and, you know, if they’re like cats, maybe it got curious and let itself out the door.”

“Did Gráinne think that was likely?”

“No,” I admitted, “and neither do I. I mean, if it was curious about a source of power it was feeling, then your house is much closer to the Rose Garden than Damon’s.”

“Exactly. Did she happen to mention if nixlings live in you-know-who’s territory?”

Cassandra, I had noticed, didn’t like saying Lord Usuriel’s name out loud any more than I did.

“She did,” I said, “and they do, but that doesn’t mean this one does.” I was trying to be optimistic. It was hard. There were probably other Fae Elders who didn’t like the idea of a witch who’d fought with a demon and survived, but Usuriel was the only one I’d tangled with in person.

“I guess we’ll see,” Cassandra said. “But for now, let Maia and the others inspect the wards. If they don’t find anything wrong, I’ll send Lizzie or Zee in the morning, just to be safe. If they givethe all clear, we’ll have to assume the creature got through them without damaging them. If there is an issue, call me back.”

“I will,” I agreed, somewhat relieved she wasn’t going to charge straight over here. Yay. I wouldn’t have to deal with a grumpy witch on top of a grumpy Head of Security and a grumpy Damon. That made me happy. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I was still trying for that optimism thing. It didn’t always come naturally to me.

“Let’s hope so,” Cassandra said. She hung up before I could, and I carried my coffee back to the kitchen, where Damon was drinking his and watching the feed of the front gate on a holoscreen.

I was refilling my coffee when the gate swung open, a Riley Arts security Jeep drove through, and Mitch, Maia and two other members of the security team climbed out of it.

“The cavalry’s here,” I said, jerking my head at the image on the house-comp screen.

“Well, I think Gráinne was the cavalry.” Damon said, “But let’s see what Mitch has to say.”

“He’ll probably want me to check the wards again with Maia or whoever he brings.”

Damon shrugged. He’d pulled an old Righteous sweatshirt over his T-shirt, but it wasn’t doing much to hide the fact that he’d been woken up in the middle of the night and wasn’t happy about it. “I would imagine so. I can’t be much help in that department. I’ll stay inside.” He gestured at the datapad on the counter. “I’ve got Madge analyzing the non-magical security data. She says she didn’t note any glitches, but I asked her to run it all again. So I can keep doing that while you do your—” He wriggled his fingers in a ‘you know, magical stuff’ gesture.

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t actually wriggle my fingers.”

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