My first stop before Mystic was the sheriff's station. I'd arrived prepared with an elaborate story about wanting to talk to Sheriff Knoxx about the upcoming wedding between him and Eleanor. I was going to be a bridesmaid and wanted to know what color the sheriff's tie was going to be, or would it be a bow tie? I needed to know so that I could make sure all the bridesmaids' shoes would match. If it was a bowtie, then I wanted to get matching bows for everyone's hair. At least, this was my story.

  Turns out, it wasn’t needed. Sheriff Knoxx was out, and Otis was busy in the back. Elwin said something about "paperwork," but I didn't think Otis did much paperwork. That was more Sheriff Knoxx's territory. I was pretty sure I detected the faint stench of skunk wafting out of the back rooms somewhere. That would explain the sheriff's absence, as well as the "paperwork" Otis was taking care of. He was probably giving Tadpole a bath, or maybe a stern talking to.

  I talked to Elwin for a bit, waiting for the right opportunity to put my plan into action. It didn't take long. Elwin was tired, and his eyes kept shutting. It was during one of these intermittent and extended winks that I slipped Forgotten Spells and Lineages under a stack of papers on Sheriff Knoxx's desk. I tried to make it look as casual as possible, like it had been accidentally set there instead of intentionally hidden. Then I slipped outside before Elwin could open his eyes again.

  I placed a mental check next to the first item on my list and hoped the next thing went as smoothly. I texted Colt, asking him to swing by when he had the chance. I needed to talk to him about Dean Lampton.

  The Mystic Cupcake was in full swing when arrived. Lunch hour was on. Eleanor looked up when I walked in. She was holding a cranberry no-more-crybaby scone in one hand and a cherries jubilee tart in the other.

  "It's about time!" she yelled.

  "Sorry."

  I walked behind the counter and grabbed an apron.

  "We're out of thrill seeker extract, peppermint peppy bars, and I need you to melt some more Venus chocolate for me before we run out."

  "No problem."

  I sucked in some oxygen, trying to energize my brain for a long, busy day, and headed into the back. I let myself sink into the work, not worrying about the rest of my mental list right now. I would talk to Colt later. As for finding out more from Dean Lampton, I was still working on that one. I figured that I was an expert mood-extractor, and somehow that had to translate to extracting information from sources that didn't want to give it, like the head of the Council on Magic and Human Affairs.

  An hour went by, then two. A new mental list had formed in my head. Eleanor's list. Thrill seeker, done. Peppermint peppy bars, done. Venus chocolate, done. I was just about to sit back and take a short break when Colt walked in.

  "Hi!" I said, jumping up to greet him. I was halfway to wrapping my arms around him when I registered the look on his face.

  Uh oh.

  He folded his hands together and took a deep breath. "Ava, please tell me that what my mother just told me isn't true. That she's just being her normal, crazy self." Warthogs. I'd been right to worry. His mother had given me up.

  "Um... what did your mother tell you?" I tried to look innocent and failed miserably.

  "She said that you came to see her yesterday when I wasn't home. That you asked her—no, berated her, about my father's death."

  "Berated?"

  "It means to scold or criticize."

  "I know what it means," I snapped. "I wouldn't say I berated anyone. I just asked her a few questions."

  Colt's jaw dropped open. "You mean it's true?"

  "I was just trying to help."

  "How? By making my mother cry? She was hysterical this morning!"

  "I'm sorry. I told you to talk to her and you wouldn't."

  "So, you had to go and do it for me?"

  "Colt, I know you're mad, but listen to me. I was right. There's a discrepancy between the way you remember things and the way your mother does."

  "What are you talking about, Ava? You're not making sense. What discrepancy?" He was angrier than I'd ever seen him but he was still in the room. I had to explain myself before he freaked out completely and left.

  "You told me that your father was drained of blood. She told me that his body was found in pieces."

  "Pieces?" Colt's face turned from red to pink to white.

  "Exactly. That's why it took them two days after your father's death to even tell your mom that he was dead. They were looking for the pieces first."

  "I think I'm gonna be sick," he said.

  "Why would your mom tell you he was drained of blood? Those are two completely different things."

  "She didn't tell me that. Dean did."

  My eyes lit up. "I knew it! See, he's hiding something. I know it!"

  "Or maybe Dean just didn't want to tell a twelve-year-old boy that his father had been ripped to shreds. If my mom backed him up, it was for the same reason."

  "But why would a vampire even rip anyone to pieces? Do you know how much blood you'd lose that way?"

  "You're trying to rationalize the murder of my father. Who knows why a vampire would do that? Maybe he wasn't feeding. Maybe he was just mad."

  "Colt, I don't think you're looking at this objectively. I know it's your dad, and I'm sure that's hard to do, but you need to try."

  "No, Ava, you need to try to understand that this isn't just some true crime story you're reading about on a website. This is my life you're talking about. My mother. My father. Me."

  "That's why I want to help. You need to talk to Dean Lampton again."

  "No, Ava. I'm not talking to anyone. In fact, I think, for right now, that should include you."

  My heart skipped a beat. "What does that mean?"

  "That means I need time to think."

  "About us?"

  "About everything."

  * * *

  1 4

  * * *

  I woke up before dawn and slipped out of the house. Rocky opened one eye and looked at me as I shut the door and ran for the ferry. I was taking the first one out this morning so I could get back this afternoon. I didn't want to stay too late on the mainland.

  I stood at the railing and looked out as the boat set sail over the wide blue ocean. Heavenly Haven looked so beautiful from a distance. I sometimes forgot just how beautiful. Tall, dark green trees rose toward the clouds. Shades of orange and pink and yellow reached up between them.

  There were no messages from Colt, despite the many that I'd sent him. How many ways can you say you're sorry?

  I'm sorry.

  Sorry.

  Sorries.

  Please forgive me.

  Sorry with a cherry on top.

  I'd come up with about fifty before deciding it was overkill. My texts were probably doing more harm than good at this point. I'd just have to let him cool off and try again.

  The ferry docked just as the sun hit the sky, filling it with soft shades of yellow and orange. I hailed a cab. Florida wasn't nearly as foot-friendly as Sweetland Cove. The Council on Magic and Human Affairs building wasn't far. It sat out in the open, where thousands of humans probably passed by it every day without blinking an eye.

  It was four stories tall and blended with the buildings around it. The sign out front read, Plungers Inc. It was billed to the humans as a plunger manufacturer, assuming that would be enough to keep most people away. After all, who would actually be interested enough in plungers to check things out inside? If they had, they wouldn't have found anything worth repeating, anyway. The rooms all appeared like any normal office building. There was a makeshift warehouse downstairs where actual plungers sat on a conveyor belt, on call in case they needed to be put to use.

  The only part of the building that might have tipped someone off that there was more going on than met the eye was the security detail. There was an awful lot of it for a plunger manufacturer. Most of the wizards and witches were dressed in plain clothes, but they all walked with an earpiece and a certain amount of tension in their shoulders that gave them away as security staff.

  The security gate itself looked fairly standard. A man in a security uniform stood behind a desk with a clipboard, looking bored.

  "Hello," he greeted me when I walked in. I could see him searching my eyes for the little flecks of gold that gave away a witch or wizard every time. Most people didn't see them; you had to have a trained eye.

  I looked up and saw a security camera zoom in on me. Second and third cameras shot discreetly out of the walls and filmed me from all angles.

  "How may I help you?" the guard asked. His name tag read David.

  "I'm here to see Dean Lampton," I told him.

  The smile never left his face.

  "Are you expected?"

  I bit my lip. "No, but I'm sure—"

  "Name?"

  "Ava Fortune."

  "One moment, please, Miss Fortune."

  He dialed a number on his office phone—a landline—and spoke to someone who was either Dean Lampton or his secretary. Probably his secretary. His smile widened. When he hung up, he turned to me and spoke in calm, even tones.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Lampton is unavailable."

  "Unavailable?" I asked. "Or unavailable to me?"

  "Both."

  "I see." I tapped my fingers on the counter. I had to get inside that building somehow.

  "What if I did this?" I asked and pulled a twenty from my wallet. I laid it flat on the counter and winked at the guard. "I'm just going to use the bathroom. Is that all right?"

  The guard's eyes gleamed with delight. "Fine by me," he said, taking the twenty off the counter. He folded it up and added it to his wallet. "The bathrooms are right there," he said, pointing to the left. I saw a sign with an arrow pointing toward a doorway.

  "Oh. I'd rather go inside the main building."

  "I'm sure you would. But the bathrooms are over there."

  He pointed toward the sign again and I sighed.

  "Can I have my twenty back?"

  He blinked at me. "I'm sorry, Miss Fortune. I don't know what you're referring to."

  This guy was tough. He wasn't going to budge. His hand wavered near his hips, and I realized for the first time that he had one of those super-charged wands that Colt used sometimes.

  Crud.

  "Can I speak to Mr. Lampton myself? If I told him the purpose of my visit, it might change his mind."

  "He's unavailable."

  "It's a matter of life and death."

  "Whose life and death?"

  "Every man, woman, child, and witch," I said, repeating the words that Esther Winslet had used when speaking to me. The eerie words that had stuck to my brain like cling wrap.

  That got his attention. He hesitated, then picked the phone back up. He spoke in whispered tones to whoever was on the other end then turned back to me and held the receiver out.

  Dean Lampton's voice came over the phone. It was smarmy and dripping with acid. I didn't understand why some people liked him so much. I had to assume they only heard the happy politician voice, not the malicious voice I heard now.

  "Ms. Fortune, I'm a very busy man. I regret that I have no room in my schedule today to meet with you. If you call back and make an appointment, I'm sure my secretary—"

  "Cult of V." I had hoped those words might jar him enough to get me in the door. They did. He was silent for a full minute before speaking again, his voice huskier than before.

  "Please hand the phone back to the guard, if you would be so kind."

  I handed the phone to the guard. He listened, nodded, then hung up and buzzed me through the gate. Another guard directed me to the top floor. I took the elevator up and stepped onto a boring-looking floor of grays and browns. A woman smiled behind the reception desk.

  "I'm here to see Dean Lampton," I told her.

  "Of course. Right this way, Ms. Fortune.”

  Her smile was as fake as the guard's. She showed me to Dean Lampton's office. When the door opened, my jaw hit the floor. The office was the exact opposite of the rest of the floor. The grays and browns were gone, replaced with deep maroons and blues. Gold and pewter antiques lined the walls. A fancy bar had been set up in the back of the room. Dean Lampton's massive cherry wood desk sat next to an equally massive window displaying the type of ocean view that could take a person's breath away.

  "Thanks, Shauna," Dean said to the woman who'd shown me in. She closed the door and Dean offered me a seat.

  "No thanks, I'll stand."

  He smirked and said, "As you will," and leaned against his desk. "Now, what can I do for you?"

  My nerves suddenly shot up. I cleared my throat. "I want to know what you can tell me about Russell Hudson's death."

  I could feel Dean's eyes burning into my skull as he tried to figure me out. "You're the girl Colt is dating. The one who made him miss picking me up on the ferry the other day."

  "That's right," I said, holding my head up high.

  Dean smiled lightly. "I can only tell you what I'm sure Colt has already told you himself. Russ was murdered by a vampire. His body drained of blood."

  "Terri Hudson told me Russell's body was ripped to pieces. Colt said he'd never heard that before."

  Dean's smile faded slightly. "That's right. I forgot. Forgive me. When Colt was a child, I chose not to burden him with the gruesome details of his father's death. I simply told him the body was drained and his father felt no pain."

  "And now?"

  "I'm sorry?"

  "Colt's not a child anymore. Why keep lying to him?"

  A shadow passed over Dean's face. "It's not a lie, Ms. Fortune. The body was first drained, then dismembered. Satisfied?"

  "Why would they dismember the body? Vampires don't usually do that, do they?"

  "No, they don't. We took it as a sign."

  "A sign?"

  "A warning."

  "About what?"

  Something about Dean's answers didn't feel right. It was like he was answering my questions while trying to be evasive at the same time, and it was making my head hurt. Dean sighed and rubbed his temples. It didn't seem genuine, though. Everything about our conversation felt like he was putting on a show.

  "If I tell you something, Ms. Fortune, can you keep it between us?"

  "That depends."

  "On what?"

  "On what it is, obviously."

  He smiled again and took a seat. "Please," he said, indicating the seat across from him. I relented and sat down. The floors in his office were hard, and I was only wearing sandals.

  "Colt's father did a lot of undercover work for The Council."

  I had to force my jaw to stay closed. A million questions ran through my head. "Undercover?" I finally asked.

  "That's right. We know it was a vampire who killed him, but we were never able to identify who precisely. We had our ideas, but never any evidence to back them up."

  "So, Russell was undercover when he was killed?"

  "That's right. You mentioned the Cult of V, so I presume you know their mission?"

  "To kill and enslave every man, woman, child, and witch."

  "Exactly. Russell Hudson was one of our best detectives. He infiltrated the cult and was supplying us with information. But his true identity was uncovered and he was dispatched."

  Dispatched.

  It sounded like Russell was sent to his room instead of dismembered.

  "Why doesn't Colt or his mom know any of this?"

  "At the time, it was too dangerous. The dismemberment you asked about was a warning to us that they knew the truth. They knew who Russell was and were ready to kill his family as well. It took all our efforts to keep them safe, and they never even knew. Can you imagine the fear it would have instilled in a twelve-year-old boy and his mom?"

  "But they have a right to know the truth!"

  "They have a right to know what I want them to know," Dean snapped back. "I am the Head of the Council on Magic and Human Affairs. I decide who knows what and when. You have no right to question me. I did what I had to do."

  "But what if you're wrong? Or does the great head of COMHA never make a mistake?"

  I knew I'd gone too far. His eyes glazed over and turned dark.

  "You don't know the first thing about me or what we do here. If you did, you would know better than to speak to me like that. I can have you wiped from this Earth in the blink of an eye if I choose to."

  My heart hammered in my chest. "Was that a threat?"

  "Yes. Stop asking questions about Russell Hudson. He's dead. Let him stay that way."

  He rose from the chair. I jumped out of mine.

  "Leave and don't come back. You're not welcome here."

  I left the room and hurried to catch the next ferry. I wanted to get as far away from COMHA headquarters as possible. Once the boat started moving and Heavenly Haven came into sight, I felt safe again. But I couldn't sleep that night. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to sleep again. Dean Lampton was supposed to be protecting us. But who would protect us from Dean Lampton?

  * * *

  1 5

  * * *

  I tried all night to wrap my head around everything that had happened and couldn't quite do it. Why would Dean Lampton want me to lie to Colt about his father? It couldn't just be for Colt's protection. He was a grown man, for witch's sake.

  My father offered me coffee in the morning. I drank three cups.

  "Tired much?" he asked.

  I tried to smile but my lips just wouldn't work right. "I guess so," I finally told him. Trixie and Eleanor were at the bakery well ahead of us, as usual. I was supposed to be a partner, not just an employee. They'd given me my mom's share of the property, but I often felt like they did more actual baking than I did. Then again, I was a mood extractor like my mother. My talents weren't necessarily with frostings and cakes.

  Sheriff Knoxx came in around ten and Eleanor handed him a small, bubblegum pink box. He kissed her lightly and for the first time, it occurred to me that I had no idea where they were going to live after the wedding. So, I asked.