“Hi Wickham,” Mary said when I approached. “Wickham, this is Frank. Frank, Wickham, my new brother-in-law. Wickham is a vampire, and Frank here is a werewolf.”
I shuffled my feet, and Frank rolled his shoulders, his hands buried in a long, stylish peacoat. It was obvious what Mary was doing. Since both of us were aware of our unlawful status, we might be less apt to betray one another. Not that I would have, anyway. But I think both Frank and I were uncomfortable having it said out loud.
I put on a smile and held out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Frank. I like your coat.” My charms didn’t work on men as well as women for obvious reasons, so I figured I’d attempt to start off on the right foot with a simple compliment.
Frank took my hand. “Thank you. Mary said you needed help to track someone, and that you had an item of theirs?”
He slid his arm protectively around Mary, and it was obvious there was something more going on than a friend helping out. I tried to recall whether Lydia had said anything about them dating but couldn’t remember.
I pulled out the white beanie with the face and ears of an arctic fox. Sephira loved the creatures. She’d left the cap inmy Jeep after a date, and I’d barely found it stuffed under the passenger seat and hadn’t had the chance with everything going on to even decide what to do about it. I handed it to Frank. “I’m looking for my ex-girlfriend, Sephira. It’s been a while since she wore this—like over a year.”
“Have you washed it since she wore it?” Frank asked.
“No.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Mary looked at me, her eyes round behind her glasses. “Why do you want to find your ex?”
I scuffed the dirt with my shoe, not sure how much Lydia had told her family about the deceased person on my doorstep. “I’m in a bit of trouble, and I hope to determine if she’s the cause of it.”
Mary and Frank exchanged a glance. But then Mary nodded, and Frank took the cap and held it to his nose, breathing deeply.
“You can track her, right?” Mary asked.
Frank cast her a flirtatious smile. “Do you doubt me?”
Mary’s cheeks flushed. “No, not really.”
“This way,” Frank said as he took Mary’s hand and pulled her along. I followed the two lovebirds down the street, leaving the church and the cemetery behind.
We walked past closed shops and streetlamps that gave us a soft light to see by to the edge of town, where a small house sat with lights on. “This is it,” Frank said. “Her scent is all over this place. It must be where she’s staying.”
Sephira and I had dated long before she came to Austen Heights, and for a while I had no idea she was living here. But then one night she’d shown up at the Midnight Kitchen Society, and all the less than pleasant memories of our time together had come flooding back. I had made friends in Austen Heights by then and refused to leave. But I never found out where she lived, and it turned out nobody actually knew. I guessed she had worries about someone learning her secret as a vampire. Being illegal made a person a lot more cautious and a tad paranoid.
“Thank you,” I said. I headed up the short front walk.
“Wickham,” Mary called, and I spun back to face her. “Look, convince Lydia that it’s over and let us be there for her. Or actually act like her husband.”
I inhaled a long, slow breath. “I’ll talk with her soon.”
Mary nodded, and she and Frank turned and proceeded off into the night.
I walked up to the door, preparing myself to confront my ex. I grabbed the snow-dusted brass knocker in the shape of a fox head and knocked.
For several minutes I stood at the door, wondering if she’d answer.
Then a voice came from the other side. “Who is it?”
“Hi, Sephira. It’s me, Wickham. Mind opening up and letting me in so we can talk?”
The door swung open, and a huge grin spread across her face. “Wickham, you found me. Come in.”
It was as if I had paid her the biggest compliment possible. “Yes, I have some questions—”
She let out a light giggle and then pulled me inside. “It must have taken quite a lot of work to track me down, which means you must really have wanted to talk to me.” She drew off my coat without asking. “Does this mean we’re going to get back together? Because I would love that—”
Perhaps I wouldn’t require the truth serum.
