Page 27 of The Mermaid’s Bubble Lounge (Sam Quinn #8)

TWENTY-SEVEN

At Least There Are Cookies

Bram laughed. “I’m calling you because your husband and I are doomed to missing each other’s calls in the summer. I could email him, but I wasn’t sure if the content of the conversation was too sensitive for that.”

“Oh, right.” I looked at Vlad. “Can I ask him or should you do it?”

“As you’re not a member of the Guild, why don’t you allow me. Bram, as you’ve probably heard, we lost a number of our Counselors recently. We need a new European Counselor, and you were recommended. Are you open to making that change?”

“And just so you know,” I added, “when your name came up, everyone nodded and agreed you’d be a perfect choice.”

Vlad shook his head but didn’t seem upset.

“I mean, you should do whatever’s right for you,” I added. “I just think it’s nice when people know their hard work is recognized and appreciated.”

“Thank you, Sam. That’s very kind of you to share that with me.” He paused. “A Counselor? I hadn’t considered that.” He paused. “I’ll need to think about that, won’t I? I’ll try to reach Clive before sunrise here and hope it’s close enough to sunset there so we can connect and discuss this.”

“He can wake up early,” I told him.

“I know he can, thankfully, or we wouldn’t be able to talk with one another for a few months. My best to you and Jane,” he said.

Jane was the Irish Wolfhound I’d found on the moors. “Actually, Jane was traveling under an assumed name. She dragged me through a fae rip in the realms near your nocturne and we ended up in the Cotswolds, where her owner informed me I had inadvertently stolen his dog Alice.”

“I hope you told him that you kept her safe from a pack of werewolves hunting her,” Bram said.

“Hmm. I don’t think I ever did. But, he let Clive and me adopt his wolfhound puppy, so it’s all good. Here. Wait. I’ll send you his pic.” I took a quick photo and texted it to him. “This is my son Fergus.”

Bram huffed out a laugh. “Very handsome and an excellent name.”

“Thanks. I know you’re busy, so I’ll let you go. Hopefully, you’re able to connect with Clive later.”

“I hope so too. Have a good day,” Bram said before he disconnected.

I stowed the phone and began jogging again. “For you guys, I hope he decides to do it. For his nocturne, I hope he doesn’t. They love him.”

“Unfortunately, we sometimes end up advancing the problematic ones because we can’t afford to lose the effective ones from their critical positions,” Vlad said.

“Is Pablo evidence of that?” We slowed to a walk as we rounded the small pond that marked the entrance to my old apartment.

“I have no idea how he ended up in the Guild. Back when there was a full complement of us, I avoided meetings. Sebastian was there to represent Europe. They didn’t need both of us, so I stayed home, ostensibly to advise my people if needed. Really, I was just avoiding the headaches.”

“Understandable. I’d imagine it’s hard to hold yourselves back when people are begging for a whooping. It’s a good thing I wasn’t in the room last night when Joao was talking about killing Jade so he wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout of her being found with a vampire.”

When we reached the living room of the small apartment, Vlad sat down and grabbed a book off the end table.

“That one is weak. He uses his good looks and charm to get what he wants and then secrets away information to manipulate those around him, ensuring he always gets whatever he wants. He’s not used to being told no. He’s what I thought your husband was.”

At my dirty look, he grinned. “It’ll be interesting to see what happens tonight.

Cadmael, a far older and more powerful vampire, and the new head of the Guild, gave him a direct order to look into Rafaela’s abduction.

We’ll see if he does it. Joao’s not used to being ordered to do something he doesn’t want to do. ”

Fergus got up on the sofa and flopped down so he was leaning against Vlad’s hip like they did this every day, and maybe they did. Vlad crossed his feet on the coffee table and opened his book.

“Okay. You guys have a good one,” I called, moving into the kitchen, where Dave was already at the stove. I checked my phone. How late was I? “What are you doing here so early?”

“What does it look like?” he grumbled, stirring something in a pot. As it smelled delicious, I leaned in for a better look.

“You and your long hair need to back away from my food.”

I moved away and watched him for a minute. “What bug crawled up your ass today? My hair is tied up and I was just looking.”

Flames went up his arms. He turned to me, expression thunderous, and I wished I had my demon sword at my side. Wait a minute. I grabbed my axe, which wouldn’t hurt him the way it would the fae, but it could still fuck him up real good.

“Who’s your dad?” I demanded.

His face went blank for a moment and then he shook his head, going back to stirring the pot.

“You know who my dad is. You met him and lost your scars—you’re welcome.

I’m not a pooka. I’m just in a shitty mood, okay?

Maggie went back to Ireland to visit her family.

” He shooed me away from him, pointing me toward a plate of bonus peanut butter chocolate chip cookies on the counter.

Dave had started cooking years ago to help with bouts of uncontrollable anger—half demon and all that.

Cooking relaxes him. He picked up baking more recently and has been making baked goods for Stheno to sell at The Viper’s Nest. We tried putting a cake stand filled with brownies, cookies, and whatever on the bar to sell here, but Fyr and I kept eating them.

Okay, fine. It was mostly me. Now, when Dave bakes, he puts aside the rejects for me.

They may have looked wonky, but they tasted great.

Maggie was Dave’s banshee girlfriend. She should be his banshee wife, but unless they’d married in secret, it hadn’t happened yet. I didn’t know why he was dragging his feet. Oh. Unless maybe she was the one dragging feet.

“Why haven’t you locked her down yet?” I asked.

“I’m working on it,” he growled.

“Not hard enough. We both know you can be anywhere in the world any time you want. Why not just go visit her?”

Flames spouted from the backs of his hands again. “They don’t like me. They don’t want her seeing a demon, even one who’s only half.”

“That’s why you’ve got to go, be on your best behavior, and bring gifts to try to buy their affection. Come on, do I have to explain everything around here?” I took a big bite. “Mmm, and bring cookies with you. Treat Maggie like the queen she is and you’ll win them over.”

The personal flames disappeared and his shoulders lost some of their tension. “I’ll think about it. Go away now.”

“Message received,” I said, grabbing another cookie before heading out to the bar.

Owen was brewing a pot of tea, and I could see Meri in the bookstore helping one of the wicches find a book. I walked through the tables, picking up empties with my free hand, while I used the other to hold my cookie.

Owen stared at said cookie, his brow furrowed. “Where did you find that?”

I pointed at the kitchen with my elbow. “They’re peanut butter chocolate chip and they are excellent. Here, take the empties in and grab yourself one. They’re on the counter on the right.” When I finished loading a tray with cups and glasses, Owen took it in to load the dishwasher and grab a snack.

I filled Grim’s tankard of mead, delivered the pot of tea to the wicches by the window, and wiped down the bar while I waited for Owen. He came back a few minutes later, biting into a big cookie but looking back over his shoulder.

He sidled up beside me and whispered, “What’s going on with Dave? He’s more ragey than normal.”

“He’s okay,” I told him. “He’s just got personal junk going on. Speaking of personal junk, can you give me Alec’s phone number?” I pulled out my phone and scrolled through contacts. “Yeah. I don’t have it.”

Owen pulled out his own phone and sent me the contact info. “What’s up? What do you need Alec for?”

I glanced around, not wanting to share this with the bar in general. I waved Owen to come along with me, and we went to the stairs and climbed a few before sitting on them. We were in that weird in-between space. We weren’t in the bar, but we also weren’t above ground. Sounds were muffled here.

“I have some news to share with him.” I handed Owen my phone. “Call him and keep the phone to your ear. That way we can all hear.”

He did. It rang twice and then, “Hey, Sam.”

“Hi, Alec. Can you hear me okay?”

“Sure. You sound a little distant, but I can hear you,” he said.

“Okay, cool. Owen is holding my phone so he can hear too. I haven’t been given permission to tell you this, but whatever. I found out information last night that might relate to Jade.”

Owen sat up straight, staring at me while he kept the phone at his ear.

“Apparently, there is a family of black jaguars in the rainforest. They are the ruling shifters in that area.

The daughter of the leader, or Rei, was stolen twenty-two years ago.

She was only three or four years old, and her name was Rafaela.

The family is grief-stricken and has been looking for her ever since she disappeared.

“The local vampires were questioned, but they swore they had nothing to do with it. It’s possible they didn’t. If she was stolen and trafficked, they may have found her later. We don’t know. The vampires are going back to check the stories they’ve been told.”

Owen let out a deep breath.

“Now, if Jade is Rafaela and she really was stolen that young, she may not recognize that name or even remember how to shift. I thought I remembered one of you telling me she’d been caged and chained with silver.

If they kept her from shifting for so long, she might not remember how or even that she has another form. ”

“And what’s the language acquisition of a three-year-old?” Owen asked. “She may not be fluent in any language.”

“She understands me,” Alec protested. “I know she does.”

“Twenty-two years,” Owen whispered, his eyes closing. “Poor Jade.”

“If it’s her,” I said. “We don’t know for sure if our Jade is connected to this stolen Rafaela, but my gut says she is.”

Owen nodded.

“Hang on,” Alec said. “She’s out on the patio, watching the waves.”

We heard him moving and then the sound of the ocean got louder. “Hey,” he said. “I’m on the phone with Owen and Sam. She told me a story.” He paused and then asked, “Do you know the name Rafaela?”

She made a series of low roars that sounded like a chainsaw.

“No. Wait. It’s okay,” he said to her. “I’ll call you back,” he said to us before the line went dead.

Owen handed me my phone. “Twenty-two years.” He ran his hand over his face. “I need to call George. I’ll be down in a minute.”

I patted his knee and then trotted back down the stairs. Meri was waiting for me at the bottom.

“I thought I heard you.” She glanced up the stairs, her brow furrowed but didn’t ask. “I have some news.”

“Oh, good.” I pointed to the bookstore. “We should—” but then I stopped myself. Why was I keeping this a secret? I turned back to the wicches and Grim in the bar. “Have you all heard about the vampire killer in town?”

They looked at each other and then nodded.

“First thing you need to know is it’s not a real vampire,” I told them.

That piece of information seemed to shock them.

One of the wicches raised her hand. “But they were drained of blood and had bite marks on their necks.”

“Yes. And the vampires thought he was one too and were trying to find him. They couldn’t because he’s not a vampire.

He’s a pooka, which is a fae—I don’t know—malevolent spirit, a chaos agent.

He can shift to look like anyone. Or any animal, for that matter.

My great-uncle, who’s a Corey wicche, is also a supernatural historian.

He’s been looking into this for us, and it seems like this pooka moves around the world, taking on the likeness of whichever supernatural being is in a place of power, and then terrorizing people and causing messes. ”

Grim had slid off his stool, the only one to look enraged. “We have a pooka?”

I nodded and his axe came off his back. “You should have been stopping us at the door to make sure we are who we seem to be. Have you altered your ward to keep him out?”

Uh, shit. “Not yet.”