Page 41 of A Spot of Tea and Sorcery: Vol. 6

Then, with a furiously snarled, “Damn it all to hells!” he got to his feet.

In the end, he found the address in the phone book. Simple enough.

He’d been obliged to scan through a series of men by the same name who lived in Ballycastle, quickly dismissing those who lived in the bougier neighborhoods. Finally, he’d landed on an apartment in Middle Eastside, a part of town that was mostly respectable, but not highbrow in the least. Just the sort of place the object of his search might like to call home.

Nigel stood outside the apartment building, wearing Yorik Balthazar’s dressing gown, invisible to watching eyes. Just incase the Brotherhood had set watch over the shop, he’d figured a little subtlety was in order.

Eyeing a long-legged older gentleman, who strode up the steps of the apartment building and put his key to the lock, Nigel glided ghostlike out from the shadows. He followed at the man’s heels, entering a foyer that smelled like rubber boots. The gentleman continued on to the iron-cage elevator, but Nigel moved to where a series of post boxes lined one wall. He searched until he found the name he sought, along with the corresponding apartment number—12B.

Minutes later, he had climbed the stairway to the second floor and stepped into a dingy corridor with geometric wallpaper in rather dull shades of blue and yellow. He hastened down the worn carpet until he stood in front of Number 12B.

Part of him hoped he’d guessed wrong. Part of him hoped a stranger would answer his knock.

The rest of him, however, knew he needed to get this over with. Because time was running out for Luna. He only had until six o’clock, and it was already past ten in the morning.

Nigel knocked.

Nothing.

Taking a steadying breath, he knocked again with more vehemence.

Still nothing, though when he put his ear to the door, he thought he could hear movement inside.

He pounded again, his fist beating out a rough rhythm, even as he bellowed, “I know you’re in there!” He didn’t care how his voice might disturb others in their homes. “I’ve got to talk to you! Now! Open up!” He paused for a moment before adding begrudgingly, “It’s Grimm.”

A woman walking by at the end of the hall stopped and stared with horror. She uttered a little scream and darted back the way she’d come, and only then did it occur to Nigel that hewas still wearing the invisibility robe. That poor soul probably just thought she’d heard a ghost. Nigel hastily canceled out the spell, shimmering back into full view just as footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. The next moment, the door opened just enough to reveal a stern, handsome, square-jawed, heroic visage.

Ward glared down at his unwelcome visitor, blinking with an expression somewhere between shock, displeasure, and complete bafflement. The wardsman looked devilishly disheveled, of course. He wore an undershirt, untucked from his trousers, like he’d just dressed in great haste. His hair was all tousled, that heroic curl of his bobbing. No dimples in sight, however. Small graces.

“Gods, Grimm,” he said, taking in the sight of Nigel in his celestial dressing gown, his lip curling. “What is that getup? You look like a ruddy sorcerer.” An eyebrow rose suspiciously. “You got something to confess?”

A growl rumbled in Nigel’s throat. “I’m here about Miss Talbot.”

“Luna?” Ward’s other brow shot up to join the first. “She’s not here, you know. I sent her home last night.” He shifted on his feet uncomfortably, his gaze skittering away from Nigel’s. “Did she, um, say anything? About . . . what happened?”

Nigel’s eyes narrowed. He vividly recalled Luna’s offhand comment about Ward not being “a perfect gentleman, perhaps.” Part of him would very much like to inquire more thoroughly into exactly what those words had meant. But he needed to stay focused. For now.

“She didn’t mention anything, no. And I’m aware she’s not here, because she’s—”

“Oh, Wardsy!” a feminine voice trilled from somewhere back in the apartment. “Are you coming back to bed?”

Nigel’s eyes flashed to meet Ward’s. The handsome wardsman had the grace to look embarrassed, a dark stain flushing his cheek. “Ur, um, just a minute, honey!” he called back over his shoulder. Then he glared down at Nigel again, his expression mulish. “What? It’s just some dame I picked up at the ball last night. Luna dumped me, you know.”

Sparks of red flashed on the edges of Nigel’s vision. “She dumped you,” he echoed, his voice a low, angry snarl. “And youreplacedher? Withsome dame?”

Grunting irritably, Ward pushed Nigel back a few paces, stepped out of the apartment into the hall, and shut the door behind him. Crossing his arms over his enormous chest, he scowled. “Look, that girl’s had me living like a priest for months now. I did everything I was supposed to, put it all on the line for her, and she turned me down. Flat. What’d’you expect me to do? Sit around moping ‘cause the girl I liked didn’t fall into my arms? Oh wait,” he added nastily, “look who I’m talking to.”

Were circumstances even slightly different, Nigel would rise to that bait. He would declare with great boldness that it would be better to mourn the loss of Luna Talbot for the rest of his life, living on the mere memory of her smile, than to try to fill his lonely bed withsome dame.But he hadn’t come here to quibble over Ward’s morals, had he?

Instead, Nigel shoved Calista’s message out and said only, “Read that.”

With an irritable huff, Ward took the message, peered down at it, scanning the words idly. Nigel watched his gaze sharpen, saw him read it again more closely. Then the wardsman’s eyes widened, and he uttered a harsh expletive. “The girl . . .” He pointed to that first line and looked up at Nigel. “Luna?”

Nigel nodded.

“And who is this Calista Anguish?” Ward blinked, pulling a face. “Isn’t she some Plymian politician’s wife?”

“Yes. And the sitting president of the Ladies of Moral Authority Against the Uncanny Society. She’s also,” Nigel added sinisterly, “a sorceress. Not a Dark Sorceress, but she is an associate of the Brotherhood. I trust you’ve heard of them.”