“No kidding.” That reminded me of the other SUV we’d left in a ditch. “Whatever happened to the other vehicle?”
“It’s at the garage. It’s mostly just the tires and cosmetic damage from the rollover.”
“And bullet holes?”
“Those too.”
“Did they recover my bag?”
“Sorry. They didn’t. I think some idiot grabbed it thinking it must be the one with Omelet in it.”
“Ah, oh well. At least it pissed someone off when they realized it wasn’t.”
The car wash was a small, automated one, the type with the big spinning brushes and the conveyor belt that pulled you through. Graham drove up to the entrance and rolled down his window, feeding a few bills into the machine. The light turned green, and the conveyor lurched forward, dragging us into the tunnel.
I watched through the windshield as the first set of brushes descended, their bristles whirring as they scrubbed at the ghoul guts. The water turned gray almost immediately, streaking down the glass in thick rivulets. I leaned forward, fascinated despite myself. The first round of foam was white. The brushes moved, scrubbing first at the hood, then the sides, and this time, the water ran clearer, the worst of the gore washed away.
Then came the purple, pink, and blue foam.
“Is it silly that this always makes me feel like a kid again?” I asked, trailing my fingers over the colorful rivulets running down the glass.
“No. Did your parents bring you through often?”
“Nope. But that’s what made it special. Dad would splurge on a real car wash just once a year to get the salt and grime off our rusted Accord in the spring. We’d go as a family, just Maa, Dad, and me. And afterward we’d go for ice cream.” I tried to blink away the tears at the memory. “My parents fought a lot, but those yearly outings were always happy.”
The light in the front turned green, the dryer stopped blowing, and we rolled out of the car wash into the sunlight.
“I heard on the news that ghouls are usually summoned from another dimension. Is that true?”
“It is. Sometimes by accident, and other times on purpose, to track down someone. You’ve met Emily. Some witch at her old apartment accidentally opened up a portal, and a bunch of ghouls came in. The witch didn’t survive. The ghouls broke out of the apartment, and since Emily lived on the same floor, they went after her instead.”
“Why would they do that just because she lived on the same floor?”
“Unless they are given a special directive, ghouls latch onto anything that reminds them of where they were first brought into the world. In her case, they’d been accidentally summoned.”
“But you don’t think this was an accident,” I said, my voice coming out steadier than I felt.
“No. Someone sent them after you.”
I twisted my fingers together in my lap. “I’m pretty sure Karim doesn’t have magic. Unless he’s been living another type of double life.”
“Not him. Desmon looked into him and into his cop friend Owen too. We don’t think they are working with the wizards or the shifters.”
I leaned back against the seat, watching Darlington through the new, sparkling clean window. “I thought they’d leave me alone now that I’m in Darlington and they know Desmon has the egg." It had made sense, at least in theory. “If the egg was the ultimate prize, why keep chasing me?”
“I thought so too.” Graham’s hand found mine, his fingers lacing through mine. “Let’s get to Desmon’s and find some answers.”
Iblinkedattheguy who sauntered into the library like he owned the place. This was Desmon’s personal wizard?
His hair stood up in stiff, gelled spikes, he wore piercings and had enough metal on his belt and shoes to set off every metal detector from here to New York. He looked ready to go to a concert, not cast some magic for a dragon.
Something about him looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. But then it was hard to look past his tight pants and general devil-may-care mannerisms, like he was the main character in this story, and you better not forget it. He got away with it too, probably because of his charming good looks.
“Ah, so you’re the egg lady. Nice to make your acquaintance.” The man bowed low, surprising me yet again. “Seth at your service.”
“Seth. Hi, I’m Meera.”
“Matty here tells me you’ve been having ghoul troubles.”
