“Ty would never kill himself,” Re scoffed. Then his expression fell, and he looked at Trevor. “Would he?”
“I don't know.” Trevor headed for the door. “He hasn't been himself since Modja turned out to be the trickster. I've never seen him so hurt by a broken love affair.”
I didn't need to hear anymore. I ran for the dressing room next to the kitchenette, opposite the tower stairs.
Re headed for the tower stairs across the room. “I'll meet you down there. Are the others coming?”
“No, I told them to stay with the children until I know more.” Trevor followed me into the dressing room. The men stored their outerwear in it. He took his leather jacket off a hanger as I got dressed. “I think I'll check his house first. Will you go to Moonshine and see if you can find signs of a struggle or . . . anything else?”
“Sure.” I turned to add more, but he was already gone. “Not Ty,” I whispered. “Take UnnúlfR, not Ty.” I grimaced, not really meaning it. Well, maybe a little.
Out of Trevor's two brothers, Ty was our favorite. He was the youngest of the three and the most carefree. Until he had met the trickster.
I dressed in my adventure gear—jeans, a T-shirt reading “Mother of Lions,” and my boots. I didn't need a jacket. Not for Hawaii, and especially not for Hawaii in spring. Other places may be cold, but even at night in the dead of winter, Hawaii was warm. Relatively. I glanced at my jackets. It was nine in the morning at Pride Palace, which meant it would be nine in the evening in Hawaii.
“Nah, I'll be fine.” I could walk around naked in a blizzard, and I'd be toasty warm, what with my internal dragon regulating my temperature. Jackets had become accessories for me. But then I saw my purse. “Damn it, I'd rather take a jacket.”
I grabbed my wallet out of my purse, shoved it into my jacket pocket, and pulled the jacket on. It was a dupe of a Helmut Lang, made with my territory magic. I rarely buy clothes anymore. Why would I, when I could make couture garments out of blades of grass?
On my way out, I stopped by the bedside table to snatch up my cellphone. By the time I reached the golden cage elevator, Re had joined me, looking gorgeous in a pair of dark jeans and a black-collared shirt with the first two top buttons open. He had a pair of sunglasses on to cover his golden eyes, but nothing would hide his shimmering skin. It was fine. Most humans thought he was a stripper. Or gay. Or a gay stripper. The possibility of a god walking among them never even crossed their minds.
Although these days, he might be mistaken for a faerie. I was still getting used to the Fey being out of the paranormal closet.
“Where's Trevor?” Re followed me into the elevator and pushed the button for the bottom floor.
“He went to check Ty's house.” I slid my cellphone into my jacket.
Downstairs, the sound of werelions socializing during breakfast filtered out of the dining hall, but the laughter of children rose above it. I went to the palace's front doors and peeked outside. Odin, Kirill, Azrael, and Viper were sitting on the drawbridge/terrace with some werelions, including Fallon and Samantha, whose daughter, Zariel, was out front, playing with my children.
“I'm going down to Moonshine,” I called over to them.
“We heard about Ty,” Odin said. “Text us if you need help.”
“Will do.”
Re was waiting for me at the door to the tracing room. He had already unlocked the door, and we headed inside. I locked it again from the inside to prevent accidental underage tracing. You never know with my kids—especially the Angels.
The wall was the tracing point, and I went across the small space to set my hand on it. With a thought, I entered the Aether and sent my body shooting through it as pure energy, to enter Moonshine through the tracing point.
Re was right behind me, and we hurried down the cement corridor, past the rental rooms for vampires who needed a place to stay for the night. They were all empty, it being way past their rising time. At the end of the corridor, we took the metal stairs up, coming out on the VIP floor of Moonshine. I crossed thelounge, passing by trees and a stream that became a waterfall, filling a basin on the ground floor.
Pausing at the stairs, I looked across Moonshine. The overhead lights, including grow lights for the plants, were still on since the club was closed. Under the sharp illumination, the warehouse's bones could be seen beyond the clever camouflage of faux and real foliage. Despite that, Moonshine was beautiful, its metal walls adding a pleasant contrast to the fantasy world within.
When Azrael had been in stasis, his alter ego, the Faerie God, had tried to take over. Wild Magic had risen in him and attacked the places he loved. Moonshine experienced a growth wave. The few real plants scattered among the fake went wild, and a tree grew from the center of the dance floor. It had grown so tall that it knocked our security system—a massive moon that hung from the ceiling—off its chain. The moon was back where it belonged now, and the tree had shrunk a bit, but it was still there, the last one standing. Everything else had returned to its original condition when I chained Az with magic-suppressing manacles. But that damn tree remained as a reminder of what I nearly lost. At least it wasn't an apple tree, or I'd have to pull a George Washington on it. We couldn't have fey apples in a public place.
Beyond the dance floor was the bar—a solid slice of wood taken from an enormous tree and polished to a shine. Matching wood formed the barstools and the shelves covering the wall behind the bar. Through a door to the right of the bar was the office. That's where Ty should have been. To the left was a stage for live bands, its metal frame hidden within a mass of plants. A door in the right wall led to the Wild Room, where Froekn could shift into wolves and take a few laps around thewarehouse, within a hidden track inside the walls, running along the perimeter with only one hill that took the track over the club entrance to descend just behind the stream on the VIP floor. You'd think a werewolf could find somewhere better to run, but it was strategic. When wolves get too riled up, like when they're having a good time drinking and dancing, they get the urge to shift. The room allows them to do so without leaving the premises, and then they can return to their dancing . . . and spending money.
I could already see Ty's most recent prowl around the club. He'd come up to the VIP floor at some point. I say “see,” but I'm really using my nose. Or rather, my dragon senses. The fey magic transforms scent into sight in my mind. I already knew Ty's scent, so it wasn't hard to separate his from the hundreds of other scent trails. Every scent has a base color, with tinges of others, but it was the shades, or intricacies of scent, that made them unique. So, I could tell you that Ty's scent manifested as bright orange with traces of yellow, but it was far more than that. It was Ty.
I followed the scent trail downstairs, with the waterfall on my right. A huge, knee-high basin caught the water, its sides hidden by natural rocks and plants. The rocks formed a sitting ledge that was popular. From the basin, the water was pumped back upstairs to return through the stream. A glance showed me clear water. The filter was doing its work. When you have a waterfall in a nightclub, you need a powerful filter.
I didn't bother walking the path Ty took around the room. Instead, I tracked the trail from where I stood, following it to the office, through the trees, into the Wild Room, out to the entry, back in, and back to the stairs.
With a curse, I looked up at the VIP balcony. “He headed upstairs for a second time, but his trail vanishes halfway up.”
“Vanishes?” Re took my arm. “Even gods need a tracing point to vanish.”
“Uh, hey, guys.” Max, a Froekn bartender, came up to us. “You here about Ty?”
