“Okay, fine,” I say, unable to disagree. “It is possible. But those files go back years. Why look into them if you’re not trailing the demon?”
“To get under your skin,” Gil suggested quietly, not looking at me. Smart man. “Jacques has a point. Whoever this Mr. Trent is knows about you. You said yourself the case about your parents’ death is public. So maybe he dug into your past a little and saw that you’re a detective with an unsolved case that hits close to home.”
I bite my lip, mind whirling. “Yeah, that’s a possibility. But I think it’s more than that. I have a feeling in my gut that I need to go with this.”
“A feeling, or desperation?” Jacques asks with little emotion.
“Seriously?” I snap. “I’m not desperate. I’ve never been desperate.” The urge to throw a fit right now is strong. I’m lashing out from a place of insecurity because deep down I know I am desperate for answers.
For vengeance.
“You’re usually calm and every move is calculated,” Hasan says, trying to keep the peace. “Throwing this information at you was a good way to upset the balance. He’s playing mind games with you, Ace.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to lose.” I lean back in my chair. “Yes, I completely agree this is a game, and going to meet this guy for lunch could be a disaster. But sitting here doing nothing could be a disaster too.” I shake my head, pushing my hair back behind my ears. “Obviously this guy knows who I am and wants something from me. I can’t ignore him and hope he’ll go away. It’s best to confront this head-on.”
The guys look around at each other, not disputing what I said but not jumping on it either.
“Look,” I say softly, knowing the guys are really just concerned about me. “The way I see it, if this Mr. Trent is willing to expose magic to an entire city, then he’s willing to do it again and probably worse. He’ll keep blackmailing me into agreeing to meet with him.”
“But then what?” Gil asks. “Say you go tomorrow and he wants something you’re not going to give him. He won’t stop then, either.”
I inhale slowly. “Then I’ll stop him.” Hasan nods in approval while the others look uneasy. “And I think he wants to buy the house. The guy who dropped off the invitation—which is weird, by the way, he could have just mailed it—hinted that this Mr. Trent liked the historical value of the house. Which is bullshit, of course.”
“Gemma’s theory that something is hidden in the house sounds more plausible now,” Jacques says. “We should search right away.”
“I agree,” I start, and bite my lip. He’s not going to like what I’m about to suggest, and I need his help to do it. “This is a big house and there are so many places something could be, and it could be somewhere we wouldn’t look in the first place, like under a brick in the fireplace or a floorboard.”
“What about a locator spell?” Thomas suggests.
“Ace can certainly try one,” Jac says. “But without knowing what she’s looking for, it might not be the most reliable. Simply asking for magical objects will take her to the ones she already has.”
“I had another spell in mind,” I say.
Jacques, who hasn’t touched the chips and salsa in front of him, raises his eyebrows. “Which one?”
“A summoning spell. For my aunt,” I add in quickly. “This was her house. She knows it better than anyone, and she left it to me for a reason.” We’ve already talked about how my aunt had to know about my magical powers, which makes her lack of reaching out all the more curious.
“The last time you tried a summoning spell, you opened a rift,” Thomas says.
“I did?” I turn to him, cocking an eyebrow. “I almost forgot.”
Thomas shoots back a smirk. “Don’t worry. You can count on me to remind you of all your mistakes.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I don’t want to necessarily summon her, though. Just talk to her. That requires a less powerful spell, right?”
“Right. But it is still dangerous. You’re opening a window instead of a door, but you’re still exposing the spirit world to ours and you can still get in and out through a window. It’s not as easy as a door, but possible.”
“I know, and I don’t want to do this if it’s too risky. The last thing we need on top of everything is another homicidal ghost kidnapping teenage boys.” I let out a breath and reach for the chips.
“You’re not going alone tomorrow,” Thomas tells me. “No fucking way.”
“The invite says to come alone.”
Gil leans forward. “Where is this place?”
“It’s a fancy restaurant inside a fancy hotel. Way out of my price range. If I do go, he is so paying and I’m ordering steak.”
“But it’s a public place?” Gil goes on.
