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Ethereal's Call Prequel Blog Part 1

Updated: May 20, 2022

The phone rings, but I ignore it. I don’t want to wake up. I just finished my last assignment, and I stumbled into my crappy little apartment at 1 a.m. I know who is calling, and I am not interested in hearing them tell me I am the only one who can do this. They always tell me that, and it has gotten old. I just need a day to get some sleep then I can deal with the drama the coven has conjured up for me to conquer.


When the phone stops, I embrace the peaceful sound of silence. I roll over since my muscles feel stiff from being still for so long. I cringe when the phone starts up again. OH MY GOD! I hate that thing. I roll back and pick it up. I hold it and glare as it flashes ‘mom’ across the screen; I sigh. Of course, they have her call me. I press the mute button and toss it aside in an effort to ignore it.


I pull the covers over my head to hide from the sunlight beaming through the window. I curse when I hear a knock at the door. “Kyra!” my mother calls out. I groan, rubbing the stiff sleepiness from my face. “I know you are in there. Let me in! You have another assignment.”


“Coming,” I whine, throwing the covers back in frustration and swinging my legs over the bed, then stumble to the door.


Her obsessive knocking pings my ears and plucks my nerves as I find my way to the door. She is relentless, as if she thinks more repetitions against the door will make me move faster. I grip the knob and fling it open in irritation. I glare at her, and she looks back at me. She appears to be pleased with my willful stare and unsatisfied expression. She smiles, and I lean against the edge of the stile as it swivels back and forth. “Good, you are awake,” she says walking past me. I cut my eyes at her watching.


She pauses in front of the couch and turns her head. “Well,” she says, expectantly. I swing the door shut, and the echo of the slam announces my emotional status. “That is enough,” she states, “come, have a seat. We have much to discuss.” I huff since she is talking like she lives here.


She sits and crosses her legs like this is some kind of business meeting. I go and flop down across from her. I lean back and slump down in protest to her composure. She scoffs, and I look at her unimpressed. “Honestly,” she huffs. “Ever since you have been living on your own, you have become so disrespectful.” She shakes her head. “I will have to speak with the coven mother about adjusting your living arrangements.” I raise an eyebrow in challenge. “Can you at least sit up straight?” she snaps.


I lift my head and rest it on a bent elbow as I look at her. “So, that is how it is going to be then?” she asks. I reply by impertinently blinking at her. I would voice my thoughts on this forced interaction, but past experience has taught me that it is best to sit quietly and nod in situations like this. I don’t want her to encourage her to impose her unwanted opinion. “Fine, have it your way,” she says as she rustles through her oversized tote.


She pulls out a deck of cards, and a folder then places them on the table. “You will need these,” she says.


I don’t lean in since I don’t want to show interest. I am firm in my attitude, and I am liking it right now. “What are those?” I ask.


“She speaks!” she says in exasperation. This response elicits an eye roll from me. She flips open the folder, and there is an image of someone looking like Daniel Craig.


I crease my brow at the image and squint in bewilderment. “What does the coven want with an actor?”


My mother shakes her head. “He is not an actor, dear.” I lean over and pick up the picture taking a closer look. “He is an incubus glamoured to disguise himself as an actor.”


“He certainly is not subtle, is he?” I ask rhetorically.


“No, he is not,” she replies. “You will need to make contact with him.”


“Why is that?” I ask.


“He will be your way into The Exclusive Enchanted Poker Game,” she says.


“The what?” I question.


She grins. “It is a high-stakes gambling event. The top ten winners gain entrance to a private auction. Once you are in attendance, you will need to be the highest bidder for the Desdemona Grimoire.”


I lean back, dropping the picture onto the table. I look at her like she is crazy. “You make it sound so simple,” I say, sarcastically. She is about to reply when I interrupt. “Isn’t there someone more suitable for this little undercover opportunity?”


She looks at me with a flat expression. “No, you have.” She pauses, looking for the correct term. “The unique skill set that will allow you easy entrance.” I cock my head waiting for her to elaborate. When she taps her ear, I roll my eyes since I now understand what she was implying. “This is an important assignment. We will be coordinating with another coven for additional support.”


That statement got my attention, and I sat up. “Excuse me? We will be doing what, now?” I ask in disbelief.


She nods. “Yes, this is highly unusual but necessary. It will be a coordinated effort.”


“A coordinated effort?” I question. “When did the coven start working with others?” I am shocked by this news. The coven has always embraced superiority over others, not cooperation with others.


“Times are changing,” she says. “We must change with them. There is more at stake than our singular goals.”


“What is at stake?” I ask her.


She replies with a condescending smile. “You are not ready,” she tells me.


I narrow my eyes at her. Her patronizing tone and haughty attitude really get under my skin.


“Not ready?” I snap. I shake my head, leaning back against the couch. “Then maybe you should send someone who is,” I gesture air quotes, “ready then.”


My mother pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head. “Kyra, this is why you are not ready. You make everything about you. See this as the opportunity it is.”


“Opportunity?” I snap in irritation.


“Yes,” she says. “This is how you show the coven you are ready to take on more. If you are successful with this assignment, it will show the elders what you are capable of.”


I cross my arms in defiance. “And what was everything I was doing before, then?”


“Practice, Kyra. Everything you have been doing has been to prepare you for the next level. No one is just going to move you up without you proving that you can handle it.” I roll my eyes “The attitude is unnecessary. I am trying to help you.”


I shake my head since this all sounds like rhetoric to me. “Yeah, whatever,” I grumble. “Who are we coordinating with, and why does everyone want this grimoire, anyway?”


“The Heritors of Aion,” she says. I look at her unimpressed since they are a much lesser coven. I don’t know why we would associate ourselves with them. “We share a mutual interest with them that we think the grimoire can assist us with.”


“And that would be? Or am I not ready to know that either!” The annoyance in my tone is very noticeable.


“Correcting the mind of the shifting dire wolf,” she says. I think I am more frustrated now since she did not react to my annoyed tone.


“What?” I say in disbelief. “We are assisting other enchanted beings now, too?”


My mother sighs. “Yes, Kyra. For the benefit of the greater good and interested parties.” I can see her frustration with my constant interruptions. I have never been one to follow blindly without question. I don’t know why she thinks this instant would be different from any other. “There is another matter I need to discuss with you. What progress have you made in locating the Amulet of Aro?”


“I found it,” I tell her, casually,


“And,” she says expectantly, waiting for me to elaborate.


“I just need to go and get it,” I tell her.


She sighs. “Just tell me where it is.”


“The Heirs of Pythoness have it,” I say


“Well, that is not that far from here,” she states the obvious.


I shrug. “It is far enough. I just need to go and get it. It’s a piece of junk, though. Why does the coven want it?”


“That is not your concern. It will have to wait, though. The grimoire takes precedence,” she states.


“If you say so.” I am indifferent about what is considered a priority. Many of the items the coven sends me after are of little to no value when it comes to magical attributions. On occasion, I come across a powerful object or relic, but it is very rare. Most of the time, they send me on pointless endeavors and get frustrated when the outcomes do not meet their expectations. Somehow, I end up being the cause for the lackluster results. “What is with the cards?”


“They are spelled,” she says with a prideful grin.


I look at her like she said something foolish. “You think using a spelled deck of cards is going to be an advantage in a high-stakes poker game with the enchanted?” She looks away like she is considering what I am saying but doesn’t want to admit how ridiculous the notion is. I lean over and place my hand on the deck. “Thanks, but I think card counting may be more beneficial. Why don’t you keep the deck?” I grin to celebrate my little victory of mental superiority.


Mother raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Why don’t you hold onto them for practice?”


I roll my eyes and lean back. “Did you spell them yourself?” She gives me a flat expression in reply, and I blink at her. Not wanting this interaction to linger much longer, I change the subject. “Tell me about the hotel.”


“It is in the file,” she says with a curt tone. She starts to gather her belongings then stands. “You have a week to prepare. Money has been moved to your account so that you can book appropriate lodgings. Nothing too extravagant, of course. The coven will be in touch. I will see myself out.”


I watch her walk to the door. She pauses when she swings it open and looks over her shoulder at me. She seems like she is about to say something but then changes her mind. The door clicks close, and I flop my head back.


This is not how I envisioned my day going. All I wanted to do was sleep in and watch reruns. Now, I have to do research and drive to someplace to start reconnaissance. I pick up the folder and fumble through the pages. The information is sparse. The hotel’s name is The Runic Spa Resort and Hotel near Flat Rock, North Caroline. I sit back and do the math in my head. That is about an hour and a half from Little Switzerland. I could be there by tonight if I can find a cheap hotel.



*****



I am driving down Interstate 26 after throwing the bare necessities into a bag. I found a room available at a Budget Inn. When I looked up The Runic Spa Resort and Hotel website, I noticed there was no mention of who owns or manages the establishment. There were plenty of beautiful pictures to sell its luxury and location, but that is all I could see.


I attempted to do a magic hack to push through any enchantments. I was looking for hidden pages or messages, but I found nothing. The website almost appeared to be too legitimate. It was like the designer was going out of their way to make it seem normal. I would have never given it a second thought if it were not for the coven’s assignment.


How are they communicating with Enchanted Society? How does the coven even know of this place or its unsanctioned endeavors? This puzzle piqued my interest, and I could not relax in my apartment. I want to see this place and what goes on there.


I am sure that there is nothing unusual or out of the ordinary that would attract a human’s interest on the surface. I would never tell my mother this, but I think I am happy about this little endeavor.


The traffic is light, and I can navigate it with ease. It is making for a nice drive in my Dodge, Caliber. A thought dawns on me that I had not considered. I may see another Fae. What will that be like? I have never seen any other Fae. I am only half-Fae. My mother is a human witch, and my father had to return to his own realm, leaving us behind.


I don’t know anything about the Fae other than what is in old legends and stories. I have to conceal my ears with a glamour to avoid unwanted attention. I pondered this thought for a moment as I drove. I smirk since I think I am getting a little excited. I unconsciously put my foot on the gas and accelerate. There is more for me to do in Flat Rock than play a poker game. I can learn about the other half of myself. I may meet others that are like me.


Whenever I ask my mother about my father, she becomes defensive and brushes me off. It is quite frustrating. Why can’t she understand that I just want to know something about him? All she ever tells me is that he had to go back. She doesn’t even tell me why. It hurts to think that he didn’t want to stay and be with us. Why couldn’t he stay? Why did he have to go? Why couldn’t I go with him? I am half-Fae. Was he ashamed of me? I sigh, thinking about this since it brings up painful emotions. I try not to think about it, but it always creeps back into my mind and lingers. I have so many questions.


Maybe I will be able to get some of my questions answered. The idea makes me smile. I can’t wait to get there!


I check into the Budget Inn and drop my things in the room. The whole time I was driving, my mind would not stop imagining what it would be like to be around other Fae. Not able to contain enthusiasm, I jumped back into the car and started driving again. The Runic Spa Resort and Hotel is easy to find on the GPS, and it isn’t far away. I take a deep breath and get back on the highway.


I can see the tall tower of glass from the road. There is nothing subtle about this hotel. I turn off the exit, then make the first turn at the light. The parking lot is packed. What the heck? I did not expect this.


Since I assumed that this was a cover, I thought there would only be a handful of cars in the parking lot just to keep up appearances. That is not the case. I have to cruise for ten minutes to find an available parking spot, and it is all the way in the back. What is going on in there for it to be this busy? Are they really this popular? If that is the case, the website undersold this place.


After I park, I pause for a moment. I was so eager to get here that I didn’t plan this out or think it through. I pull down the visor and look at the vanity mirror examining myself. My lips purse while I look and consider. I believe I have a glamour here, somewhere. It isn’t powerful enough to change my whole appearance, but it will disguise my ears.


I open the center console and find the necklace. I clasp it around my neck and inspect my ears. Satisfied that they are now round instead of pointed, I decide it is time to do some initial reconnaissance. Yeah, that’s right! This is initial reconnaissance. At least, that is what I will tell myself to justify rushing over here unprepared and without a plan.


This is so not like me. Usually, I take my time and scope a location out before I even think about approaching. I never just barge in like I am about to do. I sigh; I may be a little too eager.


The heck with it! I am here; I might as well take a stroll. What could go wrong? It is not like I am going to do anything. I open my car door and start walking. Yup, I am just here to check it out and do a little looking around. I am not here for anything else.


Walking through the parking lot, nothing looks out of the ordinary. Families rush back and forth to their cars, making me curious about what is so appealing in this hotel. I continue since there is nothing of significance to note. This is so odd; they do unsanctioned gambling events here for enchanted socialites. How do they make that work with so many humans so close? Where do they gamble? How do they get them past the humans without being noticed? Are they all glamoured to hide their identities? Does it work the same for them as for me? I have so many questions.


There is one question lingering in my mind. Will I be able to notice any Fae or not? Will they notice me? My glamour is so subtle that it only conceals my major Fae features that stand out, which is my ears. What if there are other Fae features that I am not aware of because I have never been around other Fae.


I pause and ponder that thought for a moment. I look up at the building holding the door handle. I see the light of the setting sun reflecting off the glass. Then, I decided. To heck with it! I am going in.


I swing the door open, and someone walks out with their arms full. “Oh, thanks,” the random person says passing by. I shake my head since I wasn’t expecting that. I walk in, and the lobby is packed. This is something else I did not expect. There are people everywhere. I stand there holding the door, looking stunned. What is this place? Disney Land in North Carolina?


I shake the thought. When I hear, “excuse me,” I move inside not to block the entrance. I am ushered out of the way by the flow of foot traffic, and I find a potted plant against the wall to stand by. I am trying to be invisible out of habit, but there is so much commotion, I don’t think it is necessary.


I smirk shaking my head. Guess I don’t need to worry about drawing any attention to myself. I take this time and survey my surroundings. This place is quite impressive. The floor is white marble, and thick pillars help control the flow of commotion. It is definitely high luxury. There is plush furniture strategically placed and a grand set of stairs with massive hallways leading away from the lobby.


I don’t see anyone who resembles Fae anywhere. The staff working behind the counters all appear to be human. I watched them; they are actually very impressive. They all seem to be calm and relaxed. They are navigating the chaos quite skillfully. The sound of children laughing as they run past snaps me out of my observation.


I watch them dodge the grownups while playing some sort of game. I smirk then shift my attention when I notice a shimmer of light out of the corner of my eye. I let my gaze follow it up the ceiling. I have to blink and focus my sight to see it more clearly.


I grin when it reveals itself to me. There are some kind of runes just under the crown molding. They oscillate in the light. Well, I guess there is more to this place than what is apparent on the surface. I look around, and it is evident that I am the only one here who can see them. I am not quite sure what they are saying, but the way they fluctuate makes me think I should walk down that hallway.


I have to maneuver around the crowd as I walk through the lobby. The playing kids almost ran into me, except their mother started fussing at them. Once I am free of the lobby’s madness, I find myself in a wide-open, vacant hallway. It looks like something you would see in The Roosevelt in New York.


I walk slowly to take in the atmosphere. It is a complete contrast to what I just experienced in the lobby. Everything is quiet, and there is almost no foot traffic. It starts to become awkward because the people who do walk through are all well dressed in tuxedos and cocktail dresses. I am not really fitting in with my hoodie, shorts, and sneakers.


I try to play it off, but they all give me the questioning eye as they walk by. When I hear something like a dining room, I become interested. I round the corner then pause at a vacant podium under an archway.


I look past it and there is a bar and tables. It looks like an exclusive restaurant. I look up and the runes lead towards the bar, then I grin. I believe I may have found something.

There is a large painting on the wall, and it catches my attention when the image changes. I look at it with a creased brow. What is that all about? I wave my hand in front of it to see if it will change again. When I hear someone clearing their throat from behind me, I freeze. Crap!


I slowly turn around, and there is a tall rugged-looking man with broad shoulders and a well-trimmed beard. He keeps his long, light brown hair secured in a ponytail and he is rather intimidating looking. He is dressed in black pants and a white shirt with an open collar and rolled sleeves. I blink since I am currently at a loss for words.


He raises an eyebrow and is about to say something when I stumble sideways because someone has casually draped their arm over my shoulders. “Sister!” I look over in shock when I see my younger brother Jeremy. He leans into my ear and whispers, “fix your eyes. They are doing that snake-slit thing again.”


I am so surprised to see him that it takes me a minute to comprehend what he says. I shake my head and blink my eyes then they shift back to normal. “Okay, sis, well, mom is looking for us,” Jeremy says taking my hand.


He looks up and tugs. “Got to go,” he announces pulling me back into the hallway. I look back and see that the tall man with the beard is watching us walk down the hall. He crosses his arms, and I know he is scrutinizing us and the interaction we just had.


Another man just as tall but more clean-cut and with blue eyes steps up next to him. He says something to him as they watch us. “Come on,” Jeremy says impatiently. He tugs on my hand to emphasize the urgency and need for my attention.


I turn to him. “What are you doing here?” I ask him in an irritated tone.


“Hello, I just saved you back there,” he says with a pleased grin.


“No, you didn’t,” I tell him. “I had it under control. Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”


“I took the day off,” he says. I can hear the noise of the lobby as we near the exit of the hallway.


“Besides, I had to check up on you.”


“What are you talking about?’ I snap.


He stops, turning to me just before we step into the chaos of the lobby. “You didn’t answer any of my texts. I have been trying to get a hold of you all day. We were supposed to hang out. Remember?”


I wince since I completely forgot. I take my phone out to check, and there are 25 unread messages; then, I groan. “Mom came over, and she gave me this assignment and,” I say defensively. I look up from my phone. “Sorry, I forgot.” He crosses his arms and cocks his head feeling validated. “How did you find me, anyway?”


“Duh, I pinged your phone,” he says. “I saw you were coming this way, so I thought I would come too.”


“Mom is going to kill you,” I say.


“She has to find out about it first, and I am certainly not going to tell her,” he says.


I shake my head. “I’m not going to say anything.” Jeremy becomes attentive, and I follow his gaze. The man with the beard is leaning against the wall some distance away, watching us.


Jeremy takes my hand. “I think you may have been noticed,” he says. I feel him jerk me to follow, and we rush through the lobby. Once we are halfway through the parking lot, we stop. We look at the door, and it appears that the pursuit ended at the lobby. He looks at me and asks, “Are you hungry?”


“What?” I am too distracted to understand the question.


“When was the last time you ate something? You have to be hungry. Come on, I saw a Chipotle not too far from here.” he points over his shoulder.


“Oh, yeah,” I say dismissively. “Yeah, I can eat.”


“Good,” he pauses in the middle of his sentence, then scowls. I look to see what has his attention. The same man is leaning against the wall near the door, and he is watching us again. “What is up with this guy?” Jeremy sounds annoyed retaking my hand.


“Where are we going?” I ask.

.

“I parked my bike over here,” he says.


“Well, my car is over there,” I protested.


“We will come back for it after we eat,” he states.


I roll my eyes. “Okay, fine,” I say as I hurry my step to match his.


“Who is that guy?” he asks.


“How should I know,” I tell him. “I just got here. That’s why I was looking around.”


“You are completely exposed,” Jeremy scolds. “You only glamoured your ears. What if that guy is Fae or something?”


I stop and jerk on his hand, so he has to look at me. “What did you just say?” He shifts his eyes around awkwardly. “What do you know?” I ask in a challenging tone.


“I may have overheard mom on the phone with the coven mother.” His voice trails off into a whisper of guilt.


I step into his personal space and crane my neck to look up at him since he is taller than me. I jab my finger into his chest, “you are going to tell me everything!”


He grins in reply. “Of course. Why do you think I came all the way down here?” I roll my eyes at his attempt to be clever.


“Let’s go,” I say to him walking past him. “We have to make sure you are back before bedtime.”


We go to his Kawasaki Cruiser, and he hands me a helmet as we both swing our legs over. I fasten the buckle, and he zips out of the parking space. I glance over and see that the bearded guy is still watching us as we pull out.


I hold on tight to Jeremy since he likes to show off. He is such a showboat when it comes to his bike. I remember when he brought it home. Mom lost her mind. I think that is why he loves this thing so much. Because he knows she hates it, and he likes to get under her skin. It was nice to have him be the star attraction for our family drama instead of me for a change.


Jeremy and I have seven years of difference between us. He is taller than me, now but he is definitely my little brother. The more appropriate term may be ‘my little shadow.’ He has always been right behind me, even if it has gotten him into trouble. I remember when he would come home from school with bruises on his face because he was defending my honor against the other kids. I would always tell him to walk away, but he never would.


Now, he is almost six feet tall with a baby face and curly blond hair that he keeps combed over with a front fringe. His clothes hang off of him since he can’t seem to stop growing long enough to fill them out.


We don’t have to ride for very long before we are at Chipotle. We pull in and park. When we open the door to the dining room, it is almost full, and there is a line at the counter. “I’ll get our order,” he says. “You grab us a table.” I nod as we split up. I find us a table in the corner, away from the mass of commotion.


I sit and see that the line is slow-moving. I take out my phone and search for the hotel on the internet. I rest my head on a bent elbow looking down at the screen. I start to scroll through, but I am unsure what I am looking for. When Jeremy said that guy could be Fae, it made me consider the idea. What if he is Fae? Is that what the Fae look like? I chuckle at myself since I am half-Fae, and the only noticeable difference I have is my ears. If they are glamoured to be concealed, then I look like everyone else.


I sigh at the thoughts. What if I have been around Fae before and didn’t know it? I start to become irritable the more I ponder this idea. Jeremy snaps me out of my introspection when he puts the tray of food on the table. “Here you go,” he says placing the vegan bowl in front of me. “I got us extra chips,” he announces, sitting across from me. “So, you said mom came to your apartment today?”


I roll my eyes as I start to eat. “Yeah, she dropped off a folder with the information on this

assignment. What is it you heard?”


He shrugs shoveling food into his mouth. “It is probably stuff you already know.” I cock my head annoyed at his attempt to deflect. “Well, you know how she is, is all I am saying. The coven mother wants you to be a spy for the coven with the Fae. Mom doesn’t think you are ready.”


I look at him with a flat expression. “Really, after all the assignments I have done for the coven, she still thinks I am not ready?” I shake my head and lean back in my chair. “Unbelievable! What do I have to do to prove myself to her?” I am so frustrated right now.


Jeremy notices my ire. “Don’t sweat it. You know how she is. Anyway, this is how you can prove her wrong. The coven mother said this is the perfect way to find out what you are ready for.”


I narrowed my eyes. “Did she really say that?”


“I am sure she did,” he says with a smirk. “Ow!” he calls out when I kick him under the table. “What the heck?’


“Did you even hear her talking to the coven mother?” I ask.


He shrugs again. “I heard some of it. Hey, you going to eat that because if not.” I snatch up my fork and don’t give him an opportunity to help himself. Jeremy’s stomach is like the bottomless pit. He can eat three meals in a row and still be hungry. I don’t know how he does it. “What’s your next move?”


“Scope out the hotel. Find out about this incubus and where he is staying,” I say.


“What if he is staying there?” he asks. I look at him, confused about what his point is. “Well, they kind of know who you are, now.”


I roll my eyes. “I am not worried about that. That is why we have disguises,” I say sarcastically.


“They are Fae. What if they can see through them? I may not be there next time, so intervene,” he says.


I roll my eyes again. “Security seems pretty loose to me. Besides, it is a hotel. There is supposed to be a lot of foot traffic. I won’t have a hard time getting in or out; I don’t think.”


“Yeah, but what about,” he starts to ask.


I interrupt him. “Jeremy, I don’t know. That is why I have to scope it out. I don’t have a plan yet. I have to make one. I need intel to do that.”


He purses his lips and turns his attention back to his food. “So, how is the home life?” I ask. Now it is his turn to give me a flat expression.


“No changes there. Everyone is their usual, happy selves,” he says flippantly.


“My apartment is available if you need to take a break,” I tell him.


He grins. “Really?” I nod at him. “Sweet!”


“Just don’t go disappearing on, mom. She is likely to mobilize the National Guard to try and find you,” I say.


“I’ll leave a note,” he says, and I chuckle at him.


After we finished our meal, Jeremy brought me back to my car. The parking lot was still full, but there was significantly less traffic. We did our traditional farewell hugs and parted ways. I watched him leave on his bike, then went and leaned against the trunk of my car.


I crossed my arms and looked at the towering glass structure in front of me. What secrets are tucked away deep in the bowels of this monstrosity? Why are the Fae here anyway? That question makes me ponder my own thoughts a little deeper. Why am I here? Why did my father leave us? My mood starts to darken as my mind wanders down this grim path. I wonder if he had anything to do with this place.


I sigh since I will not be able to answer any of these questions tonight. I decide it is time to go and start making plans. I push off the back of my car and go to the driver’s seat. I press the key on the button, and the lights flash, signaling my entrance. I slide in and fire up the engine.


I pull out of the parking spot and start speeding down the highway in the direction of The Budget Inn. The first thing I will have to do is get some more information about this incubus. I will need to learn more about this hotel, as well. The internet does not appear to be a sufficient source, so I will have to do some old-fashioned reconnaissance. I smirk at the idea.


I wonder if I should be so bold as to pose as an employee or maybe even a guest. I could do both, though. I will have to think about that some more. The uniforms were pretty nondescript, and I can conjure a glamour easily enough. Maybe I will be able to sneak a peek at their gaming tables this way.


I pull into the Budget Inn parking lot and park in front of my room. When I open my car door, I see that my hotel door is partially open. After I close my car door, I approach with caution. The door creaks a little when I step in close. “Hello,” I called out. I wait for a response but hear nothing.


I start pushing the door open then stumble when it suddenly falls away from me. I feel someone grab my arm and spin me around. I can see nothing since it is dark. The door slams shut, and I am flung onto the bed. “Illuminabant!” I call out, and the lights flash on.


My eyes need to adjust to the sudden change of light. When they do, I see Constable Easton Fabri standing atop me. What the heck does this guy want?


Easton works for the Crossroads Magistrate, Nolan Godwin. The Crossroads is a place of commerce for the enchanted. It is the equivalent of an underground market or a small city. All that are enchanted can frequent the Crossroads, so the population is very diverse and from many different realms. It is not located on Earth. I am not sure how it works. All I know is that you have to exit where you enter. There are exceptions, of course. The Fae who governs the crossroads can enter and exit from any portal.


Easton is one of those Fae. I do not get along with them. When I first started to frequent the Crossroads, I tried to approach them. They are Fae, like me, sort of. Anyway, they dismissed me and called me an infant.


When they found out, I am a witch that did not buy me any favors with them. At first, they just ignored me, which I found frustrating. When I became more involved with some, other than sanctioned, activities using questionable methods, I began to draw negative attention from them. I don’t care, though. I tried to ask them for help, and they tossed me aside like rubbish.


Now, Easton is standing in my hotel room, glaring at me with his arms crossed. He is not all that impressive looking, so it is difficult for me to take him seriously or find him intimidating. He is only a little taller than me. His dark hair is about shoulder length, and it needs to be combed. His jaw is very square with a cleft chin. There is an old scar over his right eye, and he has this thing about large, dangling earrings. Do the Fae embrace retro fashion? Because he is wearing a leisure suit with an open-collared shirt which is a dramatic contrast to his typical military tunic and pants.


I cock my head at him. “It has been a while since you have been to Earth, huh?” He narrows his eyes at me in response, and I gesture to his fashion statement. “It’s a little out of date.”


“That is not important!” he barks.


I raise an eyebrow at him. “You picked it out yourself, didn’t you?” I smirk.


“This is not what I came here to discuss with you,” he says.


“Oh,” I say with a surprised tone. “There is something you want to discuss with me?” He grunts, noting his annoyance at my flippant tone. “Funny, how when you want to talk, there is time, but when I want to talk, you are just, so busy.”


He narrows his eyes. “You are an infant.”


I roll my eyes. “What do you want? I am actually very busy at the moment.”


“I am aware of your current activities,” he says.


I would ask how and why, but honestly, I don’t care. “And?”


“There is a mutual interest that you may be of some assistant with,” he says.


I furrow my brow at him. He has aroused my interest. “And that would be?”


“The Runic Spa Resort and Hotel,” he says.


I blink at him. “What is your interest?”


“There is reason to suspect that The Runic Spa Resort and Hotel is a part of Alchemic Contraband trafficking in the Crossroads,” he says.


I look at him unimpressed. “What does that have to do with me?”


“It is my understanding that you are pursuing entrance into their unsanctioned gambling events,” he says. My silent response is all the validation he needs, and he smirks. I don’t want to verify any information he may have and put myself in a more compromising position. “We need someone working for us on the inside.”


“And why would I do such a thing?” I ask.


“It is simple. You help us, and we may be more inclined to assist you with learning about your lineage,” he says.


I narrow my eyes at him since this sounds a little too good to be true. They know how desperate I am to learn more about my father, but they have not been forthcoming with any assistance in the past. Why now? “And, if I say no?”


“It is simple,” he smiles, leaning in close. “I let the owners of the hotel know about your little undercover operation. What do you think that will do for your reputation and the coven?”


I scoff. “If you know the owners so well, why not just tell them about your little trafficking issue?”


He sighs, audibly, announcing how ridiculous he thinks my question is. “You are such an

infant. Allow me to enlighten you. We do not know if they are part of the trafficking or not. If they are, we don’t want to tip them off. If they aren’t, then we don’t want to scare off anyone that may be using the hotel as part of their operation.”


I groan since I should have been able to figure that out. “Do you have any leads?” He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a small crystal pyramid. He taps it, and a holographic image of a male ghoul appears. “A ghoul!” I snap.


“Yes. Is that a problem?” he asks with a challenging tone.


Is that a problem? Is that a problem? Here is the problem. Ghouls look like people, but there are two significant differences. They can be identified by the black sclera and red irises of their eyes. The other difference is that they eat raw human flesh off the bone. The more they eat, the stronger they become. They are hideous creatures, and he has the nerve to ask what the problem is. This thing is likely to eat me before I can do anything about it. “Of course, there is a problem! That thing is vile! Why would anyone want to interact with that thing?”


Closing his fist, the image disappears. “That is what we are trying to find out.”


“Oh, you need to find someone else to deal with this. I don’t even know what to call it,” I say with an attitude, flipping my wrist back and forth.


“How about I call the hotel managers and….”


“All right, all right,” I interrupt him shaking my head. “What other information do you have?” I ask in defeated annoyance.


“That is better,” he says, and I reply with a stern expression. He opens his first again, and the holographic image reappears. I take a closer look at him. He has a youthful appearance with a fringe hairstyle that covers his eyes. “Now, like I was saying. He goes by the name of Archer Davis. He has been seen entering and exiting the hotel’s portal entrance. We don’t know what his role is in the operation. All we need from you is surveillance. Find him, and whoever else may be working with him.” He closes his fist and puts the crystal back into his pocket. “You will report whatever you learn directly to me.”


“How will I be able to reach you?” I ask.


“I will find you,” he says. His statement elicited an eye roll.


“That is all the information you have?” I ask and he nods. “How do you even know he is connected to the hotel? Maybe he is just using their Crossroads entrance?” He looks at me through narrowed eyes, implying I just asked a stupid question. I nod when I get the unspoken message of his body language. “You don’t. That is what you want me to find out for you.” His slow nod emphasizes his unspoken comment.


I am about to ask another question when he turns and moves to the door. “That is enough for now,” he announces. It is obvious he found my questions to be too juvenile to entertain any longer. He opens the door and declares, “I will be in touch,” just before stepping through. There is a bright flash, and I hurry to investigate. Holding the opened door, I see that he is gone.


I sigh, how the heck did this just happen? Now I am working for the Crossroads Magistrate. What is next? Are vampires going to descend upon me and ask for donations? I shake my head at my own sarcasm. I think I need to go to bed before this day gets any more out of control.


*****

I woke up this morning to the obsessive ringing of my phone. I did not intend to start this day early after all the shenanigans from yesterday. It rang for about fifteen minutes before I answered it. When I did, a very cranky voice was on the other end. She informed me that she is my contact from The Heritors of Aion. I attempted to congratulate her, and I hung up then returned to my blissful slumber. So, of course, she called again.


She informed me that I was late for their meeting. I told her that I knew nothing about a meeting and to please stop bothering me. Then she called my mother. Cheap play, really, you can’t handle your own problems, so you have to call a mommy. Anyway, I received a firm lecture about responsibility and proving myself, and I eventually got out of bed.


I am currently driving to a Starbucks for some very needed coffee and to meet my overly eager contacts. I have glamoured myself to look like Molly Ringwald. I figure she will not be easily recognizable since most of her popular work was in the 80s.


I park my car and walk in. I see the two of them sitting in a corner booth. I don’t rush over since I am not in a hurry. I didn’t think I would actually meet my contacts from the other coven. I thought it would all be figurative and in passing. Now that I know they will be involved with this operation, I will have to adapt my original strategies.


I step up to the counter and place my order for coffee and a muffin. When I go to them, they look at me like I am a crazy person. “Can we help you?” says the skinny blond with blue eyes. She looks like the kind of girl country music songs are written about.


“I don’t know. You called me. Can you help me?” I replied back.


“Oh snap,” says the young man sitting with her. His skin is a shade of Havana. He has long dreads that he keeps secured away from his face and well-kept stubble.


“You are late!” says the blond.


“Nice to meet you too,” I say.


“I’m Sean,” says the young man.

“Kyra,” I reply. I look over my shoulder when I hear that my order is ready. “Be right back,” I tell them, then retrieve my coffee. When I return, Sean moves over to let me sit.


“That’s a cool glamour,” Sean says.


“Thanks,” I tell him as I sip my coffee.


“How long did it take you?’ he asks.


“Not very long. I have seen a lot of her movies, so it is easy for me to hold the impression for the spell,” I tell him.


The blond clears her throat gaining our attention. “If you don’t mind?” she says in a snippy tone. “We have a lot to do today.”


“And you would be?” I ask.


“Aubrey,” she says.


“Of course,” I mutter, and Sean starts to snicker a little since he heard me.


Aubrey rolls her eyes, pulling out a folder from her bag. “We have been tracking the movement of the incubus for over a week,” she opens the folder. “He only goes to two places when he is not in his room. The bar near the lobby and the Crossroads.”


“The Crossroads is more than just one place,” I say, and she glares. “Okay, two places,” I say in mock defense. “Continue, please.”


“He never takes anyone back to his room, and he always leaves at the same time,” she says.


“Isn’t that odd for an Incubus? How is he feeding himself?” I ask.


“If you keep interrupting me, I may never get around to telling you that,” she growls. I nod and sip my coffee. Sean is doing the same, trying to hide his amusement. “There must be more going on in the basement of that hotel than just poker. Maybe he is being supplied sustenance by the Fae, or maybe he has a connection at the Crossroads. It doesn’t matter where you are concerned.”


“Um,” I put my finger up in a contest. “Wouldn’t it be better if he were a little hungry? So that I can appeal to his appetite to get in?”


“He is an incubus. He always has an appetite,” she says curtly.