Page 21 of Kick the Candle (Knight Games 2)
I gagged a little. "You want to eat that?"
"Don't judge."
Silas must have overheard because he made eye contact and nodded his head.
"Guess it's okay, Poe. Enjoy."
Without hesitation, he soared down and attacked the carnage.
"Mi cielo, we should probably go. More to do tonight, and we are behind schedule," Rick prompted.
"Right." I approached Soleil and Silas, extending my hand. "Rick and I need to move on. It's been a pleasure."
Soleil gripped my fingers, her gaze meeting mine in the most intense way. "In gratitude for your help, I grant you one favor, Grateful Knight." Her body glowed, and I shielded my eyes. "Thank you for your service to the Celestial Fae."
The skin of my face felt warm, like I was lying in a tanning bed or on the beach. I released her hand and touched my cheek. "Uh, thanks."
She retreated inside, and Rick ushered me out of the alley.
"You are very fortunate, mi cielo."
"Yeah?"
"A fae favor is as good as a miracle. Use it wisely." Rick pressed his lips together, his gaze deadly serious.
Why did his explanation sound more like a warning? "What are you trying to say Rick? You know what? Never mind. I'll look it up later in the Book of Light. My brain can't handle any more surprises."
He nodded curtly. Now if only fate would be as agreeable as Rick.
ng in the Dogs
Detective Silas Flynn had a firm handshake and an intense, focused gaze that made my intuition do a swing step on my gut. With a toothy grin, he brought my hand to his face, presumably to kiss the back of it. Instead, at the last second, he flipped my forearm over and ran his nose up the inside of my wrist, smelling me. I laughed a little, more from the strangeness than the tickle of his breath.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hecate."
"Please, call me Grateful." I never did like being called by the name the supernaturals had for my station. Hecate was the goddess of the dead. I was not her, but as rumor had it, a piece of my soul, the eternal piece, was related to her. You might call me a chip off the old block...er...deity. I preferred to think of myself as a witch, although, strictly speaking, normal witches couldn't judge the dead or the damned like I could.
"Only if you call me Silas." His green eyes twinkled from beneath bushy caramel colored eyebrows.
I nodded as we progressed into the alley. Rick had stayed inside to interview the Madam about the incident. Apparently, she was an old friend. I ignored the pang of jealousy that bit of news cost me.
Police tape stretched across the mouth of the alley, and I noticed human faces ogling the scene from the sidewalk. I frowned.
"Don't worry. The Do Not Cross tape has been enchanted. All they're seeing is a typical murder scene, grizzly by the looks on their faces." He chuckled.
"Peachy." A man passing by clutched his stomach and hurried across the street. "So what do you make of Stella's uninvited visitors?"
He gestured with his head for me to follow him over to the body of the pig-faced troll and pointed his pen at the hammy wrist. "See that?
A massive bracelet of white stones was visible through the hair. On further inspection, they weren't stones. "Are those teeth?"
"Yes. These are the baby teeth of his children. This is an Appalachian mountain troll. They live in tight family units and never venture far from home. In fact, this is the first time I've seen one in the city."
The baby teeth of his children. I immediately felt guilty for slaying the troll, even though logically it would have killed me if I hadn't. "So why was it here?"
"That's a mystery, but a big clue has to do with this guy." He strolled over to the body of the finfolk. "How much do you know about finfolk?"
"Next to nothing."
