The scratching actually paused. “Thumb screws,” Taliyah murmured, like someone who hadn’t spent a summer researching medieval torture devices.

  I tossed my hair back over my shoulder and leaned back in my seat. “Figurative thumb screws, of course. I just thought it would be interesting to find out what he might spill, if he thought we were on to him.”

  Taliyah started writing again. I could hear the scratch of her pen faintly over the line, and when she spoke, her voice was a little absent, like she wasn’t fully paying attention but just going through the motions.

  “There’s no ‘we’, Wanda. I will speak to Mr. Hughes (that’s right—that was Mr. Pawnshop Owner’s name) tomorrow when his store opens. I brought you in as a consultant for the magical aspects, not the investigation itself.”

  I barely managed to hold in a snort, but my lips did curl up into a pretty smug smile. Like a cat with canary feathers peeking out from between her lips. That was just about what I’d imagined she’d say. Really, she was so predictable.

  “I see, I see.” I hummed, considering. “So, did I forget to mention the fact that I’m parked in front of the pawnshop right now?”

  “Wanda—”

  “—and I’m about to go inside and have a chat with Mr. Hughes?”

  Dead silence on the line. When Taliyah finally spoke again, her voice was sharp and cold enough that I was half surprised ice didn’t crawl across the screen of my cell phone. “What.”

  The word was too flat to be a question, but I answered it anyway.

  “Yeah, I was really just calling you as a courtesy. But I’m about to pop in to pay a visit to our culprit to see if he happens to have any other gorgeous satin shoes for sale. You’re free to join me, of course, if you’d like to, but I’m pretty sure I can handle one old man if it comes down to it.”

  The words came rapid fire as she barked, “I’m the Chief of Police and you need to listen to me very closely, Wanda. I’ve warned you about interfering with a police investigation. Do not–”

  “—I mean, as I pointed out before, it’s a business that’s open to the public. We’ve established that, right?” I said breezily, flipping down my visor so I could check my lipstick in the mirror. Sometimes the darker reds bled into the corners of my mouth if I wasn’t careful. And you always had to be careful to make sure you didn’t have red all over your teeth—not a good look.

  “Wanda…”

  “There’s no legal reason for me not to go inside and take a look around, if I want to. And if I happen to fall into a conversation with the owner about his store, or about, say, a shared talent for magic, well… I hardly see how that could land me in any trouble.”

  “Wanda, I am warning you. Do not–”

  I grabbed up a gas station receipt that I’d forgotten to toss in the trash earlier and started crumpling it close to my phone. “What’s that? I can’t hear you, Taliyah. There’s some kind of interference with the phone lines—so much for Verizon having the best service.”

  “Wanda, I can tell you’re just crumpling paper!”

  I was pretty sure I’d never heard Taliyah yell before. I was almost impressed with myself.

  “Can’t… cutting out… talk… you.”

  I hung up before she had a chance to respond. My head fell back, and I laughed at the roof of my car for a few seconds. Oh, Taliyah was absolutely going to make me pay for that one, but it was so worth it. I hadn’t had that much fun in months. Maybe even longer.

  It didn’t help that my phone immediately began ringing, with Taliyah’s name flashing up on the screen. Even the ringing sounded furious. I hit ignore. When it rang again, I set it to ‘do not disturb’ and tucked it back into my pocket.

  When I had myself back under control, I dabbed at the corner of my eyes and checked to make sure my mascara hadn’t run. Everything seemed to be in place, so I slipped out of my car and into the rainy night.

  I hurried down the sidewalk with my jacket held over my head as cover for the spell I was using to keep my hair from getting wet. It was a little too obvious if the rain simply didn’t fall on me, but I also wasn’t walking into a confrontation with a potentially hostile magic user, looking like I was half-drowned.

  Puddles reflected back the blurry glow of the streetlights as I headed for the suspiciously dark pawnshop. Had Hughes been freaked out by our earlier visit? Had he closed shop in response? Or maybe even fled town? I wasn’t sure why he would have—I mean, Taliyah had barely asked him any questions, too busy dancing around the magic angle because we’d thought he was human.

  With any luck, I’d also be able to get the truth regarding how he’d hidden himself so well out of him. I’d totally bought the old, grungy human disguise and I was ashamed with myself for not digging deeper—for allowing myself to be fooled by whatever façade he’d cast over himself.

  But if he hadn’t fled, why did the place look closed? And why weren’t the very obvious security measures being used? Something was up, that was obvious.

  I reached for the door, figuring that if it was locked, I could always just blast it off its hinges. Of course, if the store was closed, there was no promise that Hughes would even be here. And I had no idea where else to look for him. Oh, I was going to be so mad if Taliyah ended up getting to him first...

  Hmm, I could always scry in order to detect his location. But was I really willing to scry a stranger to track him down, just to prove a point?

  … I might have been. I crossed my fingers that it wouldn’t be necessary, though. Especially because scrying took time that I didn’t really have. I mean, it was probably a matter of ten to twenty minutes before Taliyah arrived.

  I’d been expecting the door to be locked—I mean, the lights were out, the store was darker than the night outside, stuffed full with looming shadows. So, when the doorknob turned easily under my hand, I almost tumbled backwards onto my flawless behind.

  Not locked.

  In the brief time I’d been near him, Hughes hadn’t really struck me as the kind of man who would leave his store and livelihood unlocked and then go gallivanting off into the night like he didn’t have a care in the world. Hmm. Something was wrong, here. That much was obvious.

  Had the curses just been a distraction then? Was Hughes building up to something even bigger? What kind of problem had I stumbled onto?

  The store was quiet. Far too quiet. More than that, though, was the fact that even though it was jammed to the rafters with stuff, it felt strangely empty. Abandoned in the way that old houses can feel.

  For a second, I thought about holding back and waiting for the backup I was sure was already on its way. Whatever Hughes had planned, there was no way he could face down a Blood Witch, a faerie princess, and a vampire. All I had to do was go back to the Escalade and hang tight for a few minutes.

  I snorted. I was the High Witch of Circle Scapegrace. A two-bit curse slinger wasn’t anything I needed to worry about. And the day I needed backup for one old man with a grudge was the day I hung up my broomstick for good. I wanted to know what was going on, and I was going to find out.

  So, I slipped into the store and let the door fall shut behind me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  If the store had been crowded and uncomfortable earlier, when there had been the unpleasant buzzing of the fluorescent lights overhead, in the dark it was downright unsettling.

  As I watched, the space filled with oddly shaped lumps and looming shadows, the light from outside spilling through the crowded front window, casting a host of shadows into the store front.

  The whole thing was spooky, and if I’d known where the light switch was, I would have flipped it on. My night sight was a heck of a lot better than it had been a few years ago sure, but it still needed something to go on. The second time I bounced my shin off something, I was tempted to set fire to the whole mess and let the Goddess sort it out.

  But, considering that I’d already alerted the police that I was here and now I was going inside, I’d made myself the only suspect in what would be an arson investigation. And considering that Taliyah was already going to be angry with me, I probably shouldn’t press my luck.

  As a Blood Witch, my magic had shifted towards the darker end of the magic spectrum, so the shadows felt more like home than they ever had before. True, they hid a lot of the room, but they hid me too. I could feel them twining around me, could feel the silken weight of the darkness on my skin. There wasn’t any need for me to be nervous, not with the warmth of the shadows looped around me like a friendly serpent.

  Though the glinting eyes of the taxidermy racoon were still horrifying, and possibly made worse by the shine of the glass in the dark, the dark felt like an embrace. True, I still didn’t get why there was a section of taxidermized dead things over in the corner to begin with. People were so weird.

  Another thing that the vampire blood had changed about me, was that my hearing was sharper than it had ever been. I wasn’t quite at the ‘hear a mouse fart in the field across the road’ stage like Lorcan was, but the faint scratch of glass that sounded in the dark pawnshop had been quiet enough that I wasn’t sure someone with only human hearing would have caught it.

  But I did.

  I froze, ears straining as I listened for anything else. For a long moment, there was silence—nothing except the rush and flutter of my own pulse in my ears. Then it came again, just the faintest scratching, like a rat pawing at a window.

  In the dark, draped in shadows, my skin felt alive. The fine hairs on my body stood on end, prickling as I picked my way forward slowly and silently.

  A car passed by on the street, its headlights flooding the store through the front window. Bars of shadow and searing light filled the pawnshop, and I jerked back with a hiss. After so long in near complete darkness, the light was like a stab right to my brain and had tears beading on my eyelashes. I stood there, my face tucked into my shoulder until I was sure the car was gone and that it had taken the painful light with it, and I started forward again.

  When the skittering sound came again, I froze for the second time. It was definitely the sound of movement, but I couldn’t tell from where. It felt like my skin was trying to crawl off my body, like it was tired of me messing about and wanted to go have a look for itself.

  I took a slow, deep breath and let my eyes close. It wasn’t like they were doing me any good at the moment, anyway. It still made my heart race to do it, though. Holding my breath, trying to slow the frantic rush and pulse of my heart, I strained my ears as hard as I could, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.

  One of the most annoying things about being blooded by a vampire, other than becoming a Blood Witch, losing my coven, and being harassed by both witches and vampires, had been the enhanced senses. Oh, sure, it sounded good on paper, like a superpower or something. And sure, the improved eyesight was nice and came in handy when it was dark out. But hearing had been a challenge.

  It was incredible how much sheer amount of noise there was in the world—something I found incredibly difficult to filter out. Machines hummed, lights buzzed, pipes gurgled. And let’s not even discuss the rolling thunder sound of footsteps and people muttering, or their noses whistling when they breathed. A person sitting in a room, thinking they were being silent, was like an unbearable cacophony to me.

  And don’t even get me started on my new and ‘improved’ sense of smell. Thank the Goddess that hadn’t happened until well after deodorant had been invented. Though it did make me want to ban perfume sometimes.

  All of these enhancements added up to one thing; it was very difficult for someone to sneak up on me. What was more—weird scratching sound aside, as far as I could tell, I was alone in the building. At least, no one was breathing, shuffling around, or mumbling. There was no brush of clothing against a shelf or the floor, no scuff of a shoe. The only heartbeat in the place was mine. Yes, there was no one else here.

  So, then, why was the door open? And what the spell was that sound?

  If Hughes wasn’t in the building, then there was no reason to sneak around. And if he was in here… well, something might be wrong, or he was screwing with me and there wasn’t a lot I could do about it. Finally, after dithering for way too long, I opened my eyes to yet more darkness and gave a mental shrug.

  “Hello?” I called out. “Mr. Hughes? Are you here?”

  Nothing. Not even a surprised inhale.

  So, probably alone, then. Most likely, anyway.

  But then the scratching sound started up again, a bit louder this time. It was definitely the sound of something scraping up against glass, and it wasn’t coming from the front windows, as far as I could tell. So where could it be coming from?

  The counters on the other side of the store—they were made of glass. The better to show off the merchandise, I supposed. Whatever the sound was then, it had to be coming from that direction.

  If I’d thought squishing my way through the narrow aisles of the store when the lights were on was hard, it was basically an Olympic sport in the pitch dark. The way the shadows twisted and spilled across the floors meant that I was bumping into piles of junk, tripping on others, and in one embarrassing incident, trying to climb over something that wasn’t actually there.

  The air smelled bad too—like way too much dust and there was the faint scent of mold and whatever vinegary cleaner got used on occasion. The funk burned in my nose, and it was sheer force of will that kept me from erupting into a sneezing fit. The whole place made me desperately want a shower, like I could feel the grime settling in on my skin.

  I was going to need to soak in a bathtub until my next anniversary to feel clean again.

  I almost tripped over a basketball hoop that had been tipped over from the end of one of the shelves. My heel tangled on the net, and I had to do a mortifying little hop to keep from falling over. It hadn’t been like that earlier, I was fairly sure (not that I’d memorized the layout of the place). When I patted around in the dark, I found a few of the boxes and items were now sticking out in funny angles—like someone had run through the aisles in a hurry. Had the basketball hoop pulled them as it fell?

  Or had there been a struggle?

  The space between the shelves and the glass cases that made up the counter was clear, and nothing seemed to be amiss as far as the stuff behind the glass went. It was still hard to see, but there were no obvious gaps or spaces, or anything jumbled in a hurry and no piles of broken glass anywhere. I’d only been in the store for twenty minutes before, but nothing stood out like a glaring neon sign that said ‘problem here’ in three-foot-tall letters.

  The metal and gemstones behind the glass glittered in the dark, like an incredibly sinister field of stars. Even though I knew I was alone in the building, I felt like I was being watched. And I was pretty sure that unsettling feeling wasn’t just coming from my imagination.

  The odd little scratching noise came again, and I froze. My pulse was thick in my throat, and my mouth was bone dry. I scanned the cases, but there was no movement at all in or behind them, and nothing that I could think of that could make a sound like that. Had a mouse gotten trapped somewhere? Mice liked to scamper, though, so I’d have probably caught that.

  So, where the spell was the sound coming from?

  I took another step forward and went still again. My ears strained to catch a sound, eyes darting around for any sign of movement. The sound could have been coming from somewhere else, but I was pretty sure it was the sound of something scratching against glass that I was hearing. And the only other thing in the store that was made out of glass was that big, clunky mirror I’d seen behind the counter.

  I crept forward, not quite daring to lean against the counter, because who knew what funk it was covered in. Soon, I found myself up close and personal with the mirror hanging on the wall. Big, ugly, and somehow just as gaudy in the dark as it had been in the light, the mirror was intact, and there was nothing close enough to touch it, let alone scratch it.

  Another car drove by outside, tires hissing against the wet asphalt, and the pale amber glow of headlights came flooding into the store again. Before I could turn my head in a useless attempt to save what was left of my retinas from the sucker punch of the light, I caught a glimpse of movement in the corner of my eye.

  Movement.

  On the inside of the mirror’s glass.

  “What. The. Spell.” I looked over my shoulder, eyes straining to see what might have caused the reflection. But there wasn’t anything. Just me, and some cluttered shelves, and it wasn’t my reflection I’d seen moving.

  Did that mean… the movement was on the inside of the mirror?

  Curiosity went to war with self-preservation in my head and, as usual, curiosity kicked butt and took names.

  As quickly as I could, I hobbled around to the other side of the counter, tripping and nearly falling as I went. If I’d thought the rest of the store was bad, the amount of junk shoved behind the counter was downright impressive. Clearly organization was out. Piles were in.

  The mirror was dark in its metal frame, like the surface of a nighttime lake. Still, I could swear I could see fluttering movement inside the glass, like something frantically darting back and forth. I turned my head to check and yep, the shop was still and silent on the other side of the counter.

  I wasn’t about to stand around waiting for another car to go by, so I dug out my cellphone. There were about fifty notifications of texts and missed calls, but I ignored them all. At the rate I was going, I was going to have an even better mystery to give Taliyah when she got here. Well, one could always hope, anyway.

  I flicked on the flashlight setting on my phone and shone it on the mirror. The light glinted off a small chip near the bottom of the glass, like it had been knocked by a careless hand. Inside the glass was a perfect shadowy reflection of the pawnshop, and the corner of my phone. There was also the panicked, pale face of Mr. Hughes.