I look at the two women, brave enough to embark on the new endeavor, and make the decision to bring them into the murder investigation. “I know we’re all exhausted, but we did good work here today. Go ahead and take off. You’ve earned it.”
“Living with you is like having the place to myself anyway,” Sacha says.
“That’s temporary.”
Fel peers up from the finishing touches she’s putting on her desk. “What’s temporary?”
“Her cohabitation with Mr. Cortez,” Sacha replies, rolling her r.
“Stop it,” I say.
“Oh my God. You’re living together now?” Fel whispers. Her eyes sparkle with excitement.
I hold my hand out. “No. Well. Yes … It’s complicated.”
“Is half of your clothing there?” Sacha asks.
“Yes,” I mumble grudgingly.
“Are your things in his room?” Fel perches on the edge of my desk.
“No, I have my own.”
“Why? Perks of landing that undead hottie, all-access pass to his bed,” Sacha says.
I shake my head. “Things between us are complex. We’re working through them.” I don’t mention the fact that he makes me mocha coffee daily just the way I like It with hot chocolate, creamer, cocoa, and marshmallows. I try not to dwell on the fresh flowers he brings me for no reason along with other small trinkets.
“I wish you could see your face right now,” Fel says.
My brow furrows in confusion. Keep this up, you’ll have frown wrinkles in now time. I’m sure Mr. Undead will love that. “What? Why?”
“Because it’s not the face of a woman who’s confused about her feelings.” Sacha pats my shoulders.
“I know this seems romantic, but me being there is safety and appearance issue. We’ve got visitors in from another territory we need to play house to reassure.”
“The line between reality can blur quickly,” Fel says in a singsong voice.
I groan. “You witches are awful.”
“I think the word she was looking for was honest,” Sacha replies.
“More like impossible,” I retort. Suddenly, my pocket vibrates, and I pull my phone out of my jeans. “Hello?”
“Hey, Lou. Remember that question you had for me that I needed to research?” Hal asks.
I sit up straight. “Yes, I do.”
“I might have a potential lead.”
I quickly grab the yellow-lined notepad and my favorite Montblanc pen off of my desk. “Tell me what you got.”
“An address. A Voodoo shop with a special set of ingredients they keep in the back. Apparently, some noticeable orders have been purchased there. I can’t say if they’ll talk to you, but you may be able to bargain for information or glean some.”
“What were the ingredients?” I ask.
“Hellebore, Hemlock, African Ginger, and Henbane to name a few.”
“Potent.” It would have to be to control a vampire and cast such a good glamour spell and erase their tracks. Hiding what you’re doing in real time is not an easy thing to do. It’s the most powerful kind of glamour, one that changes the environment. Even then they’d need the sire’s help. Their loyalty would be to the one who created them first and foremost unless that bond was interrupted, or the master compelled them to obey the witch.