“Your parents owned it?” Clay, who was the better actor, faked surprise. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“It’s all anyone is talking about.” Her fingers twitched on a lace cap. “We’re tired of the questions.”
“Markus made it sound like the food wasn’t that great,” Clay teased. “Who was the bad cook?”
“Mom.” A faint bitterness shone through. “I’m surprised the place didn’t burn down sooner.”
Had I imagined the faint wistfulness in her tone? Hard to tell with her distracted air.
“I need to use the restroom.” I shoved off the wall. “Be back in a minute.”
“Down the hall and to your right.” Trinity fell on Clay’s wigs like a kid at Christmas. “Next to the check-in desk.”
Ready with a lie about being lost if I bumped into anyone, I cracked open as many doors as I could, wary Markus would catch me.
The downstairs rooms were lived in, a tad messy, and dotted with family photos. This must be where the Amhersts lived, which meant anything good was going to be here.
Choosing a room at random, I let myself in with a tiny spark of magic only to discover I had found the master bedroom. Neat as a pin, it fit the story the teens told us. I searched under the parents’ bed and in their closet. I checked their bathroom and the linen closet. The latter held an elaborate shrine to Hecate, complete with a kneeling bench before her statue.
Most witches, black arts or white craft, prayed for her blessings. She was the goddess of the night, of the moon, of ghosts, and of necromancy. That might sound grim, but she was also the goddess of witchcraft.
To disrupt a sacred place of another witch was in poor taste, so I looked and kept my hands to myself.
Everything was as I expected it to be. Nothing scandalous. Nothing hinting at black magic use.
Though a light coating of dust made me question whether this was another remnant of the late Mrs. Amherst.
There was nothing for me to do but try another room and hope I had better luck there.
I shut the closet, making sure I left everything as I found it, then exited the bedroom.
“Oof.”I bounced off Markus and hit the wall. “Hey, I’m glad I bumped into you.”
His gaze flitted behind me to his parents’ door, but I was striving hard for innocence.
“Trinity gave me directions to the bathroom.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “That wasn’t it.”
“No.” A hard light entered his eyes. “It wasn’t.”
“Sorry about that.” I flashed him a smile that showed too many teeth. “I’m terrible with directions.”
“No problem,” he was quick to assure me. “It happens all the time.”
The obvious lie in his voice set my teeth on edge, but we both pretended everything was hunky-dory.
Markus wasn’t the smooth liar his sister was, and I sensed he had a nasty temper eager to ignite despite his wide smiles, easy jokes, and good-natured attitude. He wasn’t the actor in the family, for sure, but he’d fooled me at first. The mask wasn’t fitting as well as it had earlier. If I had to guess, I would blame the high of his recent kill for exposing his true face now.
“What’s the ETA on the pizza?” I worked to thin the awkward silence. “I’m starving.”
“It’ll be about thirty minutes.” He thawed a bit. “You must eat a lot of takeout.”
“We live on it,” I confirmed, happy for a change in topic. “We live on the road too.”
“Ah.” He nodded once. “That would explain you hooking up with a fellow agent.”
“Um, yeah.” I wasn’t about to discuss my personal life with a teen. “How did your LARP go?”
“Productive.” He reached up as if to stroke the beard he no longer wore. “Practice makes perfect.”