Okay, then. I forced another smile. “If you happen to remember just where you know John Nadler from, could you perhaps give me a call?”
“That I can do.” She took out an old-fashioned notebook and pen, then looked at me pointedly. “Number?”
I gave her my cell phone number, then added, “I’m sorry to have delayed you so long, Ms. Sands.”
She nodded, tucked her notebook back into her bag, then turned and strode to the still-waiting taxi.
“What do you think?” I asked, as she climbed into the cab and slammed the door.
“I could not read her.”
I glanced at him, surprised. “That seems to be happening an awful lot these days.”
He shrugged. “There are humans we cannot read.”
“You said it was rare.”
“It is. We just seem to be coming across more of them than usual.”
“So she is human?”
“Yes.” He glanced at me. “Why?”
“Because there was something about her that didn’t feel right.”
“Well, given she was exiting a storage locker containing a sorceress’s transport gate, it is very possible she is either in league with said sorceress, or the sorceress herself.”
“It can’t be the latter.” I watched the taxi’s blinker come on as it readied to pull away from the curb.
“Why not?”
“Because she didn’t have the same build as Lauren Macintyre.”
“I cannot see—”
“Face-shifters can change only their facial shape, not their bodies.”
“That does not mean there cannot be those who are able to do a full-body shift.”
“If there is, I’ve never heard of them.” As the taxi pulled into the traffic, I added, “I’m going to follow her.”
“Be careful.”
“That goes without saying.”
“But given your somewhat reckless nature, it bears repeating.”
“If I had the time, I’d be offended by that statement.”
“It can hardly offend when it is the truth.”
“Only as you see it. Meet you back home.” I dropped a quick kiss on his lips, then slung my handbag over my shoulder and called to the Aedh. She came in a rush, and within a heartbeat I was trailing after the taxi.
We followed Hoddle Street, went under the Swan Street rail overpass, then followed Punt Road for several miles until the taxi turned left into Greville Road and stopped at a redbrick and concrete house that looked totally alien among all the more traditional terraces.
I waited until Genevieve had stepped inside and slipped in after her. A quick look around her house didn’t reveal anything out of the ordinary. It was neat and obviously well lived in, with plenty of clothes in the wardrobe and little dust on the furniture. I briefly wondered how long she’d been away, because surely if it had been any length of time, there would have been dust. And if she’d had the time to dust, why wouldn’t she have collected her mail?
She dumped her coat and bag on her bed, checked her answering machine, then headed into the bathroom. I waited until she’d filled her bath and climbed in before I gave up and retreated.