“I think you need this,” he said. The key wasn’t old, but it wasn’t new. The size of his thumb, steel maybe. Small, simple, for luggage or a strong box. He held it out. Seemingly in a daze, Cormac took it from him, studied it. Rick explained, “Fifty years ago, I was asked to keep this safe. I was told that I would know who to give it to when the time was right, and that I would be told, ‘I know this isn’t expected, but it’s necessary.’”
Cormac lifted his sunglasses to study the key more closely, vampire or no. “Fifty years ago?” Rick nodded solemnly.
“Who?” I burst in. “Who does that? Who keeps something safe for a stranger for fifty years?”
“Vampires,” Cormac and Rick said at the same time. Cormac scowled, but Rick quirked a smile.
I said. “So, fifty years ago, some stranger came to you out of the blue and said, ‘Hey, take this for me,’ and you were like, ‘Yeah, sure’?”
Rick added, “You’ll have to trust me when I say this isn’t the strangest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Oh, I trust you,” I said. “The person who gave this to you—were they human? Mortal?”
“At the time I thought he was perfectly normal. White guy, short hair, about this tall. Seemed intense. But now, I’m not sure. My memory isn’t perfect.”
“Cormac, what’s your client look like?”
“Don’t know, they set up the job over email.”
“So it could be the same person,” Rick said. “But why?”
I pointed at Cormac’s hand. “I want to know what that key opens.”
Cormac blew out a breath. “This is starting to be more trouble than it’s worth.”
“You can’t quit, not now. I want to know what that opens, who that message is for, why—”
“No,” Cormac said. “You should stay out of this.”
“Oh no,” I said, crossing my arms. “You asked for help. I’m helping.”
“This is why I don’t ask for help,” he muttered.
“I bet you need me. I bet before this is all over, you’ll be calling me again, so I might as well see it to the end now.”
“I think you’re stuck with her for this round,” Rick said. “Cat’s out of the bag.”
Cormac rolled his eyes, and I glanced at the vampire sidelong. “Did you really just say that? Really?”
Cormac’s gaze turned inward, which meant he was probably having a discussion with Amelia. I bet she was arguing for my side. Cormac was a loner. Strangely, Amelia didn’t seem to be. She made him act downright human sometimes.
“Fine,” he said finally.
This was a mystery. A quest. An epic. It was awesome. “Cool,” I said, grinning.
“Sorry I couldn’t do more to help,” Rick said. “You’ll let me know how it all turns out?”
“I’m anxious to find that out myself,” I said. “Have a good night, anyway.” Rick made a slight bow and returned down the stairs to his lair.
Cormac was already walking back to his Jeep, and I hurried after him. He settled in the front seat, studying the key close-up by the interior light.
“It doesn’t really look like a door or car key,” I said, trying to be helpful.
“Amelia thinks she can scry, maybe get some clue where it came from.”
“Is that an inscription?” I said, peering at the tiny letters engraved on the key’s head. He handed the key over for me to look at with my werewolf vision. I had to squint at it, tip it one way and another a couple of times—partly to make out the letters, partly because I didn’t quite believe what I was reading.
“Foothills Savings and Loan? Is that a real bank?” I pointed out the number stamped on it.