But after a few hours, there still wasn’t any movement.
It was now well past the time when most people went to work, as evidenced by all the empty driveways. But a car still remained in theirs.
They might have been on vacation. But then again, it was just the one paper, not the accumulation you’d see if they were out of town.
Hm. Were they retired? Maybe. It was still late for a sleep-in, though.
My tea was long gone, and after a peculiar stare from a dadwith a stroller, I popped another incuriosity charm and sat back, taking a nice, long blink.
* * *
The sound of cheerful screeching woke me, and it took a few moments to remember where I was as I stared at the school bus stopped in front of me.
Shit.
I grabbed another charm and popped it quickly, hoping none of the kids or parents at the bus stop had noticed me yet, then stretched, twisting my back and groaning as it gave several satisfying cracks.
This was why I needed time off between jobs. In my younger days I survived just fine without any sleep, but now that I was in my thirties, these kinds of hours were getting harder to keep. Sooner or later, the exhaustion would catch up with me, and I couldn’t afford any careless missteps.
Like falling asleep during a stakeout. Or—I stretched until my back made another satisfyingpop—letting my body get out of whack and having it spasm on me during a chase. Because they always ran, and I needed to be ready.
I looked at the Hexwood house and cursed under my breath.
The paper was gone.
I waited until all the families had dispersed before getting out of my car, rubbing my sore neck and looking up and down the street before crossing.
A shaft of light hit through the yard at a strange angle, and I stopped.
Wait.
How had I not noticed before?
The house had a heavy, sophisticated glamour covering it.
This was powerful magic, so powerful I’d nearly missed it.
I still couldn’t quite see through it yet, which was really annoying, but at least knowing it was there was helpful.
I walked up to the door and knocked, my heart racing as a cheerful “Coming!” came from the other side.
The woman who opened the door was the spitting image of Sage about thirty years into the future, but I was able to clock another glamour right away.
I smiled. “Gloria Hexwood?”
Her eyes shifted from my horns to my face, her expression souring. “Yes. Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for your daughter, Sage. Is she around?” I took a step forward and forced myself through, taking a cursory look around the modest living room.
The glamour was heavy inside, too, but couldn’t hide the mixture of stale air and Sage’s faded perfume beneath the magic.
“E-Excuse me, who do you think you are?” the woman pretending to be Sage’s mother asked. “Sage isn’t here; she moved out over ten years ago! Get out before I call the police!”
I flashed my license. “Sorry, not much the police can do,Gloria. Or should I even call you that?”
Her panicked expression faded into one of cold calculation, and her head tilted to the side. “How much did you sell your soul for this time?”
The glamour in the air faded, revealing a house covered in dust, unlived in for years. I walked up to a hanging planter, rubbing a brittle dead leaf between my fingers and watching it crumble. “Does it matter? She stole something, Morgana. The Premier wants it back.”
