Dream Hunter (Bailey Spade 2)

Nebulabucks is a teashop chain, and the location Itzel chose must be new—the line of thirsty Cognizant is only ten minutes long. Felix, Ariel, Itzel, and Kit are sitting at the biggest table in the corner, hot drinks in everyone’s hands.

Felix holds out a cup to me. “Nebula flower, the way you like it.”

Thanking him, I take the cup and sniff it as I sit down next to Ariel. The fruity notes of the tea are divine.

“How did your game development thing go with Valerian?” Ariel asks with an eyebrow waggle.

I flush at the reminder of the kiss fiasco. “Long story.” I look at Itzel’s masked face. “Did you find your grandfather?”

“No,” the gnome says, her nasal voice disguised by the breathing apparatus. “But we made some progress.”

“Or Maya did,” Felix says proudly.

I look around the table again, then peek under it. “Where’s your little friend?”

“She’s eighteen,” Felix says defensively—and no wonder. I’m pretty sure he’s at least in his mid-twenties.

Ariel grins. “Legal as of very recently.”

“But do tell Bailey where she is.” Kit turns herself into the petite girlfriend in question and gives Felix an evil smirk. “I’m sure it’ll make it crystal clear how mature she is.”

Felix glares at Ariel and Maya/Kit. “She’s got a trigonometry exam.”

Kit morphs into Felix. “Advanced trigonometry,” she says in his voice. “Must not forget that.”

Ariel’s grin widens. “Still a high school subject. And no, it won’t help matters if you tell Bailey about the advanced placement classes Maya takes.”

“Come now,” I say, my face exaggeratedly serious. “Maya sounds like a very bright young lady.”

Felix slurps his tea very loudly, then says, “Anyway, this high school student was the only one who could help us make heads or tails of Cadmael’s disappearance.”

“Indeed,” Itzel says sternly. “And if we could get back to said disappearance, that would be swell.”

I turn my attention to her grumpy face. “What did you learn?”

“We found a vaping pen in Grandpa’s apartment,” Itzel says. “It didn’t seem to be his, so we asked Maya to touch it.”

“Her power is psychometry,” Felix chimes in. “She can tell who an object belongs to when she—”

“We all know what psychometry is,” Ariel says with an eye roll.

Itzel puts down her cup. “Do you want to see how it went?”

“Please.” I take a big gulp of my tea.

Itzel puts on a set of VR glasses and gloves and makes a few gestures.

I hide my surprise at seeing that she has an older model of comms. Since she’s a gnome, I expected her to have the latest gadgets. Then again, she might resent that stereotype, similar to how peaceful orcs dislike being perceived as violent brutes.

Opening my own VR interface, I click on the video she’s just sent me.

The VR puts me in a cluttered room, presumably in Cadmael’s apartment. Maya is sitting on the floor next to dirty socks, holding the vape gizmo in her tiny hands.

A glowing, purple-tinted energy seeps from her skin into the object, and her expression turns trance-like. “He’s punching an elf in the face,” she chants under her breath. “Now he’s punching a dwarf, then a—” Her eyes roll back. Then she exhales, and her eyes return to normal.

“His name is Vas Lube,” she says, sounding tired. “He’s an extremely aggressive orc.”

So much for not stereotyping. Nobody around me looks surprised to hear of an orc’s involvement either.

Itzel’s voice rings out from where the VR camera must’ve stood. “Where can we find this orc?”

Maya shrugs. “I can only tell you who he is, not his location.”

The VR recording terminates.

I dismiss my VR and find myself back at the table in the teahouse.

“So it’s safe to assume he took Cadmael,” I say, looking at my friends. “An orc named Vas Lube.”

Kit is grinning. “I hope Vas isn’t short for Vaseline.”

“Leave it to Kit to turn an orc’s name into something sexual,” Felix mutters under his breath.

I pick up my tea. “What did you guys do once you got the name?”

“Nothing,” Itzel growls. “I don’t know anyone who’s ever heard that name. Nor do they.” She sweeps her gaze around the table.

“It’s a good thing you have me then,” I say, “because I know a guy.”

“Who?” Ariel asks, her eyebrows furrowing.

“I don’t think you guys know him. I helped him out once, and now he helps me when I need something from the Gomorrah underworld.” Such as vampire blood is what I don’t add, since it might still be a sensitive topic for Ariel.

Itzel jackknifes to her feet. “Let’s go see him now.”

As we drive to the bar where my guy—Napoleon—always hangs out, I ponder whether it wouldn’t be wiser to ask Valerian for help with this instead. If he can locate the werewolf from Erato’s dreams, he might also be able to find this orc.

Problem is, I’m not sure I can face Valerian after last night’s debacle, let alone ask him for favors. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he were to find someone else to help him with the werewolf and disappear from my life for good. He’s probably canceling the Lucid Dreamer project at this very moment, so even my mom will suffer due to my inability to kiss a guy I like.