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A warm gust of air blew over me. Now what?
I sat straight up at the sound of footsteps, which stopped a few paces behind me. A familiar brush of magick touched my neck. “Are you shitting me?” Where are my shields? I paused. Wait, I shouldn’t need them here. I’m in my own damn head!
I turned around. “What are you doing here? This is my dream, my meditation. This is sacred to me. How dare you come without an invitation.”
“I wanted to talk to you... alone. Is that a crime?” Jareth’s voice was warmer here, rich, almost melodic. “Do you come here often?”
The look on his face assured me that the words weren’t a pathetic pick up line, but a genuine question. I was far too tired to be caustically witty. Not here. Not now. Instead, I sighed, stood up and brushed the errant blades of grass from my palms. “My father is buried here.”
He stayed quiet for a moment. “You must have loved him very much. Do you think he is in Heaven?”
Does everyone think that Heaven was the only possibility? “My father was a wonderful and gracious man, and an atheist. I have no doubt that he’d earned his just reward. You call it Heaven. I call it the Summerlands. He called it the cosmos. We’re made of stardust and all that jazz.” I waved my hands, and the scenery around us faded to iridescent clouds.
He cocked his head to the left with a small smile and a twinkle in his green eyes.
I’d failed to notice the color until now.
“This explains so many things,” he said.
I needed a distraction. “What do you mean?” I shook the stiffness from my legs and stretched the dull ache from my arms, anything to keep my thoughts from straying to him.
“You’re Wiccan.” He stared at me in a way I couldn’t place—not fear, not curiosity. Almost as though I were his prey.
“I am.”
“That explains your... uh... issues at the church. Only a true believer can pass through unscathed.”
Is he serious? I chuckled, which subdued the other urge a little. “Oh, Jareth interestingly enough, my abilities have nothing to do with my faith. I could do it when I was a Christian, too. Magick is in my blood, just like it’s in yours, but none of that explains why you’re here in my head.”
He shrugged. “You intrigue me.”
“Like ‘oh, how neat, another magick user!’ or ‘oh, it’s a bug, let’s squash it’?”
“No.” He shook his head, but then he thought about it for a moment and shrugged. “Maybe a little of the first one. Your power calls to me. Does mine call to you?”
All right, interest piqued. “Is that how you got here?” I tiptoed around his question. “By following my power?”
“Can I be honest?”
I crossed my arms. “I wish you would.”
He smirked, and I hated that I liked him a little for it. “Then I will. I’m not a hundred percent sure this isn’t my dream you’ve wandered into tonight.”
“So, you always dream of women who don’t like you much and give you lip?”
The smirk bloomed into a full smile, and Jareth chuckled. “No, I guess not. I’m hardly masochistic enough for that.”
I pushed back the rush of images of whips and chains, the scent of leather. He didn’t seem to notice. Great time to go all BDSM nympho. I shook my head. “No, I doubt you’re the kind of man used to women telling him ‘no’ at all.”
He sobered a little. “You think I use my gifts to manipulate women into my bed?”
“Let me be honest. I really have no frickin’ clue, Jareth.” I conjured a couple of red and black Queen Anne-style chairs and motioned for him to sit.
He complied without a word, and gestured for me to continue.
“Your church is covered in more magick than most coven circles, and to push this far you’re either way stronger than I thought, which would explain the dreamwalking, or you’re siphoning energy off your congregation, which would explain the thugs’ ability to just kidnap kids.
“The whole ‘what magick?’ versus the certainty that you can do whatever and it’s okay. Except it’s not okay. Plus you most likely understand the legal side of what you’re able to do, so you probably don’t use your powers to manipulate women.
“I hate to say it, but you’re probably charming enough without the gifts, though you might come off a little pompous and aloof.”
He waved a hand, and a table popped up between us, complete with tea service and scones. “Sounds as if you know what that’s like.”
I waited as he poured tea into delicately-painted teacups. “It takes an introvert to know an introvert. Let’s not get all cozy—no scones for me, thanks, imaginary or otherwise—just because we’re birds of a feather. I—my sister and I—were serious about the consequences if we find out that you know where my niece is. You understand that, right?”
He sipped at his cup. “Only a fool would fail to take the two of you seriously. I made that mistake once. I won’t do it again.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Then you knew who I was when we walked in?”
Jareth nodded. “I’ve heard about you from the mutual circles we travel. It interested me to meet you. That you came to me....” He shrugged. “I took it as kismet.”
Kismet? I doubted that. What mutual circles? I bit back the question, not sure I was ready to know. “What about all the stupidity, all the magick?”
“That wasn’t done specially for you. The Church is always like that. It’s helpful to know the kinds of people who want to join my congregation.”
Curiouser and curiouser. “So you know there are other magick users like us.”
“There is no one quite like you.”
All right, I was socially inept, but was he hitting on me, or was I just imagining it? Was this part of the whole ‘your power calls me’ weirdness? Did I only think that was weird so I could deny feeling the same thing? I took a scone, much to his amusement, and bit off one corner—orange cranberry, a favorite.
I pushed away the thought that he’d been secretly stalking me to discover my pastry of choice. “The wall thing is creepy, Jareth.”
“It is, but you’re waking up.”
“What?” I looked around, and he was right. The clouds had begun to unravel and blur, like fog dissipating in sunlight. “Well, shit. Thanks for the tea.”
His lips moved, and he waved farewell. As instantly as he’d come, Jareth was gone.
***
I woke to the sound of Sera puttering around the kitchen. A glance at my watch told me it was only seven. Gah, not enough sleep. I’d sleep when I was dead, wasn’t that how the cliché went? I rubbed my eyes, righted the recliner, and ambled into the other room. “Sera.”
She fumbled the mug in her hands and set it on the countertop. “Dammit, Zoë, I thought you were still asleep. Where the hell is your coffee?”
I reached in front of her and opened a cabinet. “How’d you sleep?”
She turned to look at me. “I didn’t really, and what I did manage was horrible and filled with dreams about Esther. I keep trying to comfort myself by saying that Edward would never let anything happen to her. I have to believe he would protect her from whatever is going on, but everything I know is wrong, Zo-Zo. I feel like I’m grasping at straws.”
I took her by the shoulders and moved her out of the way. “Sit at the breakfast bar. I’ll make coffee and some food. Eggs work?”
She nodded.
I grabbed a skillet off my hanging pot rack and placed it on the stovetop. “I think you’re right, though. Edward might be a weasel, but I’ve seen him with Esther. He loves that little girl, almost as much as you do. If he put her in harm’s way, it’s because he’s been duped by these idiots, not because he intended it to happen.”
I prepped chocolate brownie coffee in the coffee maker. “Today, I’m going to make a few phone calls and cash in a couple of favors.” She started to protest, but I raised the scoop in her general direction. “I didn’t forget about their threat, and I know we’re trying to keep this under wraps and out of the police jurisdiction, but we might as well use the resources I have at my disposal, right? I’ve got good people I can depend on, especially in this precinct. You have to trust me, okay?”
As I pulled things out of the fridge, Sera grumbled her agreement into the countertop. “I’m just about to lose my ever-lovin’ shit.”
“We’re going to find her. I promise.” Along with a steaming mug of coffee, I slid a couple of creamer options and the sugar bowl to her.
“I hope so. I hope soon.” She took a few quiet moments to get her coffee right, then looked at me from her perch. “Last night was scary. For me. I mean, you must do stuff like that all the time with your police work and whatnot, but it’s never been so real to me before.”
I forced a smile. “It’s not always like that. Actually, it’s rarely like that. What I do for the police....” I chewed my bottom lip and stirred the eggs in the pan. “What I do for the police is disturbing. I don’t know how to explain it without upsetting you.”
She randomly moved bottles around. “I know you see dead people.”
“I didn’t think you remembered that. You were so young.”
Sera looked up. “You were pretty young, too, when it all started. Before Dad died. That’s how you knew before the grownups did, before the police came.”
I swallowed hard and plated the eggs I’d slightly overcooked. “I didn’t think you remembered that, either.” I handed her the plate. “Eat those.”
“What about you?”
I paused for a second. “Not hungry. I had a big dinner.”
“What was wrong with your eyes last night?”
I exhaled in one long breath. “More stuff I’m not ready to tell you. I think you should eat and try to rest. I’ll call you once I’ve got something.”
“Bossy,” she said around a mouthful of eggs.
***
One of the hardest parts of moving forward when your newly-exed boyfriend was working your case was... well, your newly-exed boyfriend working your the case. I sat in my car at the precinct, cup of coffee in hand, and stared at the front door. I’d dawdled for almost an hour, debating whether to act like a grown adult or a damn teenage girl.
So far the teenage girl was winning.
Like any good teenager, I’d called in reinforcements. A tap on the glass, and I broke my stare to find my best friend standing outside the passenger side window.
“You going to let me in?”
I put down the cup and unlocked the door. “Lucy.”
“Zoë.” She settled into the seat and plucked the Frappuccino out of the console cup holder. “Have you seen him? Did I miss it?”
“No, haven’t seen him yet.”
She took a long drag on the straw. “Are we seriously going to sit in your car like a couple of angsty girls?”
“Yep.”
She took another drag. “Okay, just making sure about the plan.” She flipped down the visor and glanced into the mirror. “So glad I’m wearing waterproof mascara.”
I glared at her. “Are you making fun of me?”
She did a slow turn, eyes wide. “Me? Make fun of you? Never. However, you didn’t wear waterproof mascara and are in dire need of a make-up wipe.” She rummaged through her purse and pulled out a shiny blue package. “Here.”
I took it from her, and sure enough, make-up wipes. I pulled down the driver’s side visor to check myself out in the mirror, and laughed out loud. “Oh, my gods, I look like—”
“A raccoon? Um, yeah, now clean up and we’ll figure out where we’re going from here.”
I wiped makeup from under my eyes and off the curve of my hands, where I had rubbed my face. No tears—thank the gods for that—but anxiety and zero productive sleep made me forgetful. I looked at Lucy. “Better.”
“Oh, yes, loads. So tell me what happened?”
I laid out the whole story and answered questions as she had them. I teared up a little, even engaged in some vehement arguing over the fairness of dating two men. By the end, I felt better for getting it all out, and she seemed happy to have helped.
Lucy swirled the last bit of her drink around in the cup. “You really need some down time.”
“Probably, but I’d have to schedule that in, and right now with this case and the stuff with Sera, I can’t.”
She frowned. “You have to make time, or you’re going to burn out. Do you remember what happened the last time? Do you want that to happen again?”
I looked away. “Yes, I remember, and no, I don’t want it to happen again, but I don’t want to rehash it with you right now.”
She shrugged. “That horse is dead. I’m merely pointing out the ash fall. Now you’ve got rather important business to attend to, bestie, because unless you plan on taking a hiatus from this police business, you need to get over seeing Daniel again. The cases you two solve are more important than this drama between you. So suck it up and get going.”
I returned the frown with a touch of scowl. “Wow, I’m feeling the love over here.”
She smiled, but sadness kept it from reaching her eyes. “Zoë, I worry, but I know you. All I can do is tell you to do what’s right, and be careful while you do it, because you’ve managed to stay out of the hospital for almost a year. I thank the gods every day for that. I love you, but... well, everything I’ve said you already know, and I have to go now.”
Without another word, she got out of my car and slipped into hers.
I watched her drive out of the parking lot. What a bitch.
She was right, and I hated it, but I hadn’t called her for coddling. I’d needed someone to speak aloud all the truths floating around in my head. Lucy always did, no matter how much it hurt me. Best friends forever, right?
I sighed and grabbed my purse before getting out of the car.
Sometimes it really sucked to be a responsible adult.
