Even Vampires Get the Blues - By Katie MacAlister Page 0,48

I'd imagined it.
Chapter 8
"There you are. I wondered if you were going to show before noon." I smiled at Clare as she bustled into the office, a fresh bouquet of mixed flowers in her hand.

"Of course I'm here! Where did you think I'd be?" She plucked out the remains of yesterday's mostly eaten bouquet and took the vase down the hall to the bathroom for fresh water.

"Well, given that you and Finn were at it all night, I'm surprised you're here at all," I said when she returned.

"Hmph," she snorted, plopping the fresh flowers in the vase. "You're just jealous because your boyfriend left you and mine didn't."

"I don't have a boyfriend. Paen is not a boyfriend. He is a client. I admit we have a personal situation going on, but it's nothing permanent."

"So you say. What have you been doing this morning, Miss Productive?"

I tossed a folder onto her desk, stretched, and looked out the window at a rare sunny May day.

"Quite a bit, actually. I ran out to Mr. Race's house first thing this morning to see what it knew about his manuscript, but came up empty there."

"Was it like Finn's castle?" she asked, leafing through the pages of the report I'd typed up and printed.

"No, the house remembered a manuscript, but the memory was fuzzy, as if it was from a long time ago. The housekeeper let me look around, but there wasn't anything else to pick up. I did get the name of the appraisers who worked on Mr. Race's collection a few years ago. I was just about to drop by their offices and see if I couldn't wheedle a peek at their report on the manuscript, but if you don't have other plans, perhaps you could do that while I go talk to the local expert on mages."

"Mages?" Clare's nose wrinkled as I scooped up my purse and jacket. "Why on earth do you want to talk to someone about mages?"

"Read the second report. While you've been romping away half the morning in bed with Finn, I found a morsel of information about the Jilin God statue. Turns out it's older than I thought - and has mystical origins. There are not a lot of details about it available - "

"You can say that again," Clare interrupted. "I've researched that thing for three days now without finding so much as a solid description of it."

" - but I did find an obscure reference to a mage who supposedly possessed it before it disappeared. It's not a big lead, but other than scrying, it's the only avenue I have to pursue right now."

Her eyes got huge. "You're not going to scry, are you?"

"Stop looking so frightened. I told you I had it under control," I reassured her. "But just to make you rest easier, I'm going to have Jake with me when I try it. Just in case."

"Oh, Sam, I wish you wouldn't - "

I let her work it out of her system (there's nothing quite as pathetic as a frustrated faery), but in the end, did what I had intended to do all along. I did admit there was some validity to her concerns, however, and swore to be careful and to not scry without a spotter. "Jake'll be there for me," I told her as I was leaving.

"I just hope that's enough," she said darkly.

I hurried down the stairs and out onto the street, stopping when Clare leaned out the window to bellow at me, "What about the statue? I thought we were going to look at it?"

"Later!" I waved frantically at her to hush up, glancing up and down the busy street. No one seemed to pay us any attention, but who knew what interested ears might have caught that?

The mage expert lived on Cockburn Street, in a very chic area full of cafes, exclusive shops, and snooty galleries. The apartments, like the other businesses, were housed in a connected line of grey stone, steep-gabled Victorian buildings. I located the correct apartment, pressed the appropriate buzzer, and gave my name. "Hi, I'm Samantha Cosse. I called earlier."

"Ah, Miss Cosse, yes, of course I remember you." The disembodied voice of a man came out with the tinny quality so peculiar to intercoms. "Please come up."

I glanced at the sign reading Caspar Green and noted the apartment number, opening the door when it buzzed at me. Two minutes later I found myself in a sunny peach and cream sitting room, enjoying a brief burst