I heaved myself up out of the couch and went back to my desk. Papers littered the surface, invoices and bits of scratch paper I’d scribbled addresses and phone numbers on. I’d been trying to get a hold of old clients, call in jobs, and generally find anything to distract myself. There were some harsh realities I wasn’t ready to face. The fact that I missed Fin, the fact that somehow, I had mage powers, and Sol was haunting my dreams.
I went back to my bedroom, shoved my legs in the first pair of jeans I could find, and grabbed a pink T-shirt from my drawer. A quick check in the mirror revealed bruises everywhere. Mot even makeup would hide most of it. I grabbed a hoodie from the closet, zipped it up, and flipped up the hood to hide my hair and most of my face. It was the best I could do for now. At least, if Hawk returned or the chief himself showed up, I would be more prepared.
I went back to my desk, sank into the old chair, and stacked the papers into a neat pile, then I shoved them into the first drawer where there was room and surveyed the clean surface.
There wasn’t exactly a wiki page for fairies or their family trees, but the mystery revolving around Sol and her appearance in my dreams needed to be my priority. Or I’d never get a good night’s sleep ever again.
I grabbed my laptop from its black leather bag next to my chair and set it on the empty surface of my desk and turned it on. Then I leaned my forehead on the edge of my desk while I waited for five million years of updates to take hold.
Once the updates finished, I pulled up a search engine and typed in Sol and Fin. As I expected, nothing related to the siblings popped up.
I tried searching for Fin alone, and I got a few hits on his philanthropic works. Pictures of him in tuxedos with beautiful women on his arms shouldn’t have made me so angry, and yet my teeth were cracking under the strain of my clenched jaw. I’d been one of those women, and he’d left me for dead, so I had to guess the women in the pictures meant nothing to him too.
I held onto the anger and dove deeper into the rabbit hole. Fin spent most of his money on charities and hosted various events.
An idea struck me.
I typed in Esteban’s name. The same type of results popped up as they had for Fin. It looked like our Black Mage spent a lot of money on other people and enjoyed giving lavish parties. I wondered how many of those in attendance were mages, or were they just clueless humans hoping to rub shoulders with fellow rich people?
I scanned the search results, but couldn’t find information on Esteban’s family, his origins, or anything at all useful. Everything about him was fluff and pandering. I checked the reporter’s names for the society pages on the articles and the same woman had wrote them all: Tosha Mackey.
Something warm bloomed in my chest. It was a start. I searched for the reporter’s name and found a heap of fluffy society pieces. The woman liked to attend parties. Her social media was equally vapid.
I wrote down the contact details for her publications, including all her social media handles, and made a note to go through them later.
It sure would be nice to have Fin’s security right now. Many of them were trained in intelligence, and could hunt down things faster than I could.
I scribbled out a few more notes and tucked the papers and my laptop into my desk. My muscles ached, and it felt like everything in my body had been set on fire. I needed to take a walk to try to clear some lactic acid out of my system so the soreness would improve. That was lesson one when I started physical training, even when it hurts, just keep moving.
I grabbed my keys from the side table and opened the door, expecting to encounter the flickering light that the superintendent kept promising to change in the hallway.
Instead, I almost walked into a six-and-a-half-foot faerie.
“Fin,” I croaked.
He caught my shoulders in his graceful hands and held me still. “You’re not answering your phone.”
Why did people keep pointing out the obvious to me?
“Funny you should say that. You’re not my only visitor today saying I refuse to answer my phone.”
“Did you happen to think we have a point?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “No, this is way more fun. This way I get to see who really wants me.”
He stepped forward, walking me back into my apartment, and closed the door behind him. “We need to talk.”
I pulled from his grip and spun to face away from him. If he saw the look in my eyes, he would know something was wrong.
“I thought me leaving would be a strong hint that we were done working together,” I said. “You almost got me killed.”
“Yes, but I thought we worked past that.”
I sighed out loud and schooled my features before turning back to face him. “Yeah, well, the thing about trauma is it can pop up whenever the hell it feels like.”
He took a step forward, and I retreated. The soft lines of his face hardened as he surveyed the way I tensed and backed away from him.
“Zoey, I’m sorry. I really am. But you’re the only person who can help me find my sister. I need you.”