We round the corner of the house, and I look right into the driver’s seat of the sedan. Whoever is inside stiffens, and if the sun weren’t so bright and reflecting off the windshield, I might be able to get a look at who’s inside.
“Can I help you?” I call out, causing the man on the porch to jump. He looks at the front door and then at us, blinking rapidly. He hurries off the porch, moving with grace. The guy has to be hot in that suit on a day like today.
“Yes, I certainly hope so. I’m looking for the homeowner.”
Homeowner…interesting. He didn’t ask for me by name, which means he might not know it.
“May I ask why?”
The man beams. “Of course, and my apologies, ladies, for not introducing myself. I’m Charles Miller, here on behalf of Mr. Trent.” He pauses as if that means something to either of us. “Mr. Trent sends a warm invitation to the owner of this historical home to meet with him for lunch tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Mr. Trent is a history enthusiast and is interested in purchasing the house.”
I blink, keeping my calm demeanor. Gemma, on the other hand, stiffens and grabs my wrist.
“The house isn’t for sale,” I say with a polite smile. “Sorry you drove all the way out here, but the owner isn’t interested in selling.”
He steps forward and I lean in, trying to see if he smells like sulfur. I might have crossed a social line right there, but fuck it. Charles gives me a weird look and extends his hand, giving me the envelope.
“Perhaps you’ll change your mind. Old houses like this require a lot of upkeep that can be quite costly.” He looks past us to the spot on the porch where Thomas and Gilbert used to sit in stone form.
“The house is in good shape,” I press. “And the homeowner is more than happy to pay for the upkeep.”
“Right.” He gives me a pleasant smile and turns to look at the house once more. “Good day.”
I nod in response, watching him scuttle to the car and get in the back. He pulls a phone from his suit pocket as soon as he’s in, and I see the glow of the screen through the window as they drive away.
“Well that was creepy,” Gemma says, shaking her head. We both turn and watch the car drive away. “Do you think that’s what that guy wanted? Your house?”
I look at the envelope in my hand. “Maybe. It would make sense, and support your theory of something valuable being hidden inside.” I turn the envelope over and see the same symbol pressed into the wax seal. “The house itself is big and fancy and all, but I don’t think it’s magical on its own.” I peel off the wax seal and pull an invitation out of the envelope.
“What does it say?” Gemma asks before I even get a chance to read it.
“Uh,” I start, scanning the invite over with my eyes. “Some guy named Mr. Trent wants me to join him for lunch tomorrow at some swanky hotel in the city.”
“What?”
“It’s an invitation,” I say, and hold it up for her to read. Everything is written in black ink, and the handwriting is the same as the writing on the letter.
Please join me for lunch at the High Tower at noon tomorrow. Come alone. Kindly RSVP by eight-thirty tonight by texting the number provided below. -Mr. Trent
“Please tell me you’re not going to go.”
I shake my head. “No, no way.” I make a face. “Well, I mean probably not. I’d be so out of place at a fancy hotel like that.”
“Ace!” Gemma takes my arm and whirls me toward her. “Even I know it’s a trap! This guy has been watching you for God knows how long, sent a golem to terrorize the city, and knows too much about you already.”
“I know.” I take a step toward the front porch. “But I’ll meet him. Meet the guy who’s behind it all. Get the chance to end it all.”
Gemma rolls her eyes. “You’re good, Ace, but come on. You don’t think he’s already ten steps ahead? This meeting is his idea, probably on his turf.”
I frown. “I know. But the restaurant inside the hotel is a public place. If he wanted to attack, I think he would have instead of inviting me out for lunch. I’ll question him, put a spell on him, hell, I’ll even arrest him.”
“On what charge?”
I shrug. “I’ll make something happen to warrant an arrest if need be. I won’t be able to keep him, and everyone at work will think I’ve lost it, but there’s a good chance they already do anyway.”
