Page 20 of Kick the Candle (Knight Games 2)
"The coven was feeding on animals. Had a whole vampire-style butcher shop for blood collection," I said.
"I don't trust him."
"Neither do I, but without any evidence, I can't judge or sentence him. Not unless I want to start a war with his coven."
Silas nodded in agreement. "So, Julius sets up shop in Carlton City, and months later, the streets are swarming with supernaturals who normally wouldn't set foot on pavement." Silas nudged the finfolk body for good measure. "I can't prove it, but I think Julius is behind this."
"He had a demon with him named Padnon. Evil SOB."
Silas narrowed his eyes. "He's gathering allies. What the hell is he after?"
"I wish I knew."
At that moment, Rick and a fae woman I assumed was the madam entered the alley. I'd expected the bordello madam to be an older, less attractive, former working girl, but I was wrong. She was the model of sophistication, grace, and beauty. Tall, lanky, with silky honey-colored hair, her golden skin stretched flawlessly across her high cheekbones. A warm breeze blew off her and chased the winter chill from the alley. Thankfully, Rick seemed unaffected by her beauty, although a surge of unwanted possessiveness came over me anyway. Silas, on the other hand was ogling her, lips parted slightly. Oh for crying out loud.
I stepped over the body and extended my hand. "Hi, I'm Grateful Knight."
Graciously, she slid her manicured fingers into mine. "I am Soleil. I owe you a huge debt of gratitude, Grateful. Stella and Rick told me what happened. Thank you for saving us. Who knows how many fae he would have killed if you hadn't stopped him?"
"Did you know this man?" I used the term 'man' loosely. It didn't seem to confuse her.
"No. We've never had any finfolk come here before. But, as I told Rick, there is a legend among our people that if one of their kind touches one of ours, they are capable of draining our life force and turning us to dust. The dust is said to have magical properties useful in black magic."
The term black magic made my skin itch. As far as I knew, all magic was neutral; it was the spell caster who had either good or evil intentions. But I'd have to ask Rick about it when we got home. Caretaker magic was a different practice with a different source of power than mine. Maybe there was such a thing as black magic.
A hand jutted between us. "Detective Silas Flynn, Soleil. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
My eyes followed Silas's hand to his face, which was flushed bright red. At first, the nurse in me wondered if he was having a heart attack, but then the woman in me recognized the look in his eyes. He was blushing. With a half grin, I took a step back, allowing him to move in closer. He still hadn't released Soleil's hand.
Rick sidled up to me. "Her enchantment is especially effective on werewolves. Her connection is to the sun. It is said that a werewolf in her bed during the full moon won't shift."
"Oh," I said. "That makes sense." Damn. No wonder Silas was pouring it on thick. "Did you find out anything else?"
"Just that there have been an unusual number of supernatural visitors to the Maison the last several weeks."
"Silas said the same thing. Apparently, the city's overrun. He thinks the bread crumbs lead back to Julius."
"I've thought the same thing, mi cielo, but we need proof. There are supernaturals in this city waiting for an excuse to organize against us. Sentencing an innocent vampire could cause an uprising."
"I agree, we need proof, but we don't even know what they're looking for. What is Julius after? A secret weapon? Is he raising an army?"
Rick shrugged.
A flurry of black flapping wings circled our heads and landed on the lip of the dumpster. "Well, I'm sure standing there talking about what we don't know is going to be productive." Poe's beady black eyes rolled in his head.
"Hey, the sarcasm isn't helping, Poe," I said.
Rick grimaced. "Do you know this bird?"
"Rick, this is my new familiar, Poe. Poe, this is my caretaker, Rick."
"You called a familiar? Already?" Rick asked.
"Oh, sure, question my existence. Don't bother thanking me for saving her life or anything. If not for me, her head would be impaled on the end of the mountain troll's club." Poe flapped his glossy black wings.
"Thank you, Poe," I said. I didn't appreciate his attitude but he had a point. He had saved my life.
"You're welcome. Now, tell me I can have some of the Finfolk. I have a taste for fish."
