Demon's Dance (Lizzie Grace 4)

“If you’d give me your phone number, I’ll call you the minute I discover anything.”

“You’ll do it now?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” She hesitated, and then said, “And payment? I know it’s your day off, so would double—”

“Just the normal findi

ng fee will be fine.” Especially if what I sensed in the necklace did indeed mean the worst. I gave her the figure and then said, “Belle will take your phone number and the payment now, if you’d like, while I get ready.”

She nodded and headed out. I carefully put the necklace back in its box and then walked across to the full-height bookcase lining the wall to the right of the door. After moving an ornate pottery fairy, I placed my hand against the bookcase’s wooden back. Energy immediately crawled across it and, a heartbeat later, the wooden panel slipped aside to reveal an eight-inch-deep compartment. It wasn’t the only hidden compartment in the bookcase—there was one behind every shelf. A witch could never be too careful when it came to protecting magical items and potions.

I grabbed my spell stones—or warding stones, as some witches preferred to call them—and a couple of general purpose potions to ward off evil, and then carefully secured them all in the nearby backpack. Once I’d picked up the blue velvet box and tucked it into my pocket, I blew out the candle and slung the pack over my shoulder as I walked out.

Alice was still in the café, but the three men had gone.

They left not long after you went in the room, Belle said.

Had Monty cooled down any?

Nope. It’s going to be an interesting evening.

As my relatives go, he’s fairly reasonable. Or he used to be.

Which isn’t saying much, Belle cut in dryly. Although he did at least have a sense of humor back then—a trait that’s certainly absent in most of your family.

He’s a side branch and not a Marlowe. They do tend to be more—

Human? Belle cut in, amusement heavy in her mental tone.

Alice handed me a scrap of paper with her phone number on it. “You’ll call me as soon as you know anything?”

“Yes.” I didn’t offer anything else. Didn’t say it would be all right. It wouldn’t be. Not if the shadows on the necklace were anything to go by.

“Thank you.” She accepted the coffee Belle handed her with a wan smile. “I’ll head home and wait.”

“Do,” I said. “And try not to worry.”

She nodded and left. Belle’s gaze met mine. “You don’t think her mom’s alive, do you?”

“No. But I could be wrong.”

“Given your psychometry skills are more reliable than your prophetic ones—and even your prophetic ones have been pretty damn accurate of late—I'd say the chances of that are between zero and none.” She slid my purse and a coffee cup across the counter. “I added some herbs to the coffee to help keep you awake. I don’t think Aiden would appreciate finding you asleep in the mangled wreck of our car.”

I snorted softly. “I slept until ten so I’m not really sleep deprived. Besides, you’re coming with me.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Meaning the sensations rolling from the necklace have a distant feel?”

“Yeah, and they’re also fading. I don’t really want to drive while trying to keep a strong enough grip on them to find her.”

“Give me five, then.”

As Belle dashed upstairs to grab some shoes, I walked through the café to lock the front door. Once she was back down, I tossed her the car keys and then headed down the rear hall to the back door.

“Where to?” she said, as we pulled out onto the main street.

I tucked my coffee mug into the center holder and then tugged the blue box from my pocket. The necklace felt cold and dark in my palm. I wrapped my fingers around it and, after a moment, said, “Right at Barker Street.”