JARETH WAS THEdirector of the island’s only funeral home.It was a little too on the nose for me. A vampire funeral director? That was straight out of a movie … and not a good one.
Still, I liked the man. He had an easy way about him. He was a little creepy — he looked ancient — but I never felt unsafe in his presence.
He met me in the parlor, his eyebrows hopping up his forehead. “Well, this is a surprise!” He broke into a wide smile that didn’t seem to match his facial features. “It’s good to see you.”
I took his hand, squeezed it, and momentarily marveled at how cold it was. When I released him, I was all business. “Are you alone?”
“That’s an interesting question.” Jareth’s eyes roamed up and down. “I don’t believe you’re here for anything that might make Galen want to beat me to within an inch of my life.”
It took me a moment to realize what he meant. “Um … yeah, I’m not here for that. You’re not exactly my type. No offense,” I added quickly.
That made him grin. “You’re not my type either. I guess that’s a good thing.”
I gestured to the velvet settee in the center of the room. “Can we sit?”
“Of course.” Jareth ushered me in with a sweep of his arm. “Would you like something to drink?”
“I just had lunch at Lilac’s bar, so I’m good. I’m really here for information.” I clasped my hands on my lap and debated the best way to approach him. Ultimately, I decided that the truth was my only option. “I need to know about Declan Wilkes.”
Jareth’s eyebrows were thin. Had he plucked them earlier in life and they no longer filled out the same way? I knew absolutely nothing about vampire grooming habits. I had questions — oh, so many questions — but Galen had warned me against asking them. Jareth was a stickler about manners. When Jareth’s eyebrows rose, they almost disappeared into his hairline.
He didn’t look uncomfortable as much as curious. “May I ask why?”
I told him the story. He couldn’t help me if he didn’t know everything. When I got to the part about seeing my mother on the other plane, he looked troubled. Then he almost came off the settee when I told him about my mother being in the mural.
“Are you certain?” he asked.
“It looked exactly like her.”
“Do you know when the mural was painted?”
I shook my head. “Is that important?”
“Well, if it was painted fifty years ago it could be a coincidence. May and your mother had a lot of the same features.”
“It could have been May.” It was a revelation. “Of course it could have been May. Duh!” I slapped the side of my head. “Except I talked to my mother on the other plane.”
“That may not have been your mother.” Jareth looked tortured to have to be the one to say it. “It could have been a spell of some sort. He could have been operating under a glamour.”
“Wouldn’t I have felt him?”
“You have no idea how magic works over there, so not necessarily.”
“She knew things. Things that Declan wouldn’t know. She said I had May’s sense of humor.”
“He was fixated on May.”
I deflated a bit.
“I’m sorry.” Jareth patted my shoulder. “I don’t want you to fall for something that might well be a trick.”
“I shouldn’t be this naive. I guess I can’t help myself when it comes to her.”
“You didn’t know her and you’ve longed for her your entire life. I can see him using that to his advantage.”
“You knew him.” I blew out a breath, trying to center myself. “I was hopeful.”
“I did.” Jareth’s smile flattened into a grimace.
