intricate seals tattooed on his muscular forearms. “Sheila and I have a portfolio of sigils we designed ourselves. Some of them are for protection. You’re welcome to stop by the shop and see if any of them speak to you.”
“I’ll knit you a prayer shawl, dear,” Mrs. Meyers said in her kind voice. “There’s a blessing in every stitch.” She caught sight of Sinclair’s expression and chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s more of a scarf than an actual shawl.”
Warren Rogers scratched his chin. “Sounds like you’ve got a bit of herb lore, then. You any good with plants?”
“Not bad,” Sinclair said. I wondered if that had anything to do with the elemental nature fairies’ fondness for him.
The landscaper gave him a shrewd look. “I could use a new assistant. Lost a couple of college kids to the fall semester, and I hear your tour’s only running on the weekends during the off season. You interested?”
“Point of clarification.” Casimir raised one finger before Sinclair could answer. “Are you talking about a job or an apprenticeship, Warren?”
He shrugged. “Depends on Mr. Palmer here. I could use a good worker either way. Don’t know that I’ve got a handle on this obeah business, but his studies sound close enough to my journey on the right-hand path. If he’s willing to dedicate himself to our craft, I’m willing to mentor him.”
Casimir turned to Sinclair. “Well? Are you?”
Sinclair frowned in thought. “What happens if I say no?”
“If you’re asking if we’ll withhold our assistance in the matter at hand, the answer’s no.” The Fabulous Casimir steepled his fingers. “We’ll do everything in our power to protect you. But to be perfectly honest, it will be more effective if you’re on your way to becoming an initiate. And if you’re asking if we’d like to have you, the answer is yes.”
Glancing around the room, Sinclair studied the members of the coven one by one—reading their auras, I assumed.
After a moment he nodded. “I’m in.”
Twenty-five
For another half hour, the coven discussed the specifics of implementing their various plans of occult protection. I listened and made mental notes on the individual members and their different areas of expertise, figuring it was all good input for my thus-far-hypothetical database.
Hey, I’d promised to keep confidentiality, but I hadn’t promised not to make a record of what I learned. It might be useful someday.
At quarter after eight, I excused myself. “Cas, I’ve got to leave. Sorry, but duty calls. You said someone could give Sinclair a ride home?”
“I’ll do it,” Kim McKinney volunteered, smiling sidelong at Sinclair. “No problem.”
He smiled back at her. “Thanks, sistah.”
The Fabulous Casimir spread his fingers. “Et voilà.”
It’s not like I had any right to complain. I was the one who’d broken up with Sinclair, and I was the one to arrange this meeting. Now that he was back on the market, I couldn’t blame Kim for flirting with him.
Still, it gave me an inward pang.
Of course, that was offset by the fact that I was meeting with my childhood crush and sometime partner in police business, Officer Down-low himself. Too bad we were headed out to Twilight Manor to locate a missing kid. Not exactly a fun date.
I called Cody from Casimir’s driveway. He picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Pixy Stix. Ready?”
“Yep.”
Unless I imagined it, there was a faint sigh of relief on Cody’s end. No matter what he’d said, no one in their right mind wanted to enter the House of Shadows without backup. I know, I’d done it. “Meet me at the gas station on the corner of Sixty-fourth Street,” he said. “I’ll pick you up. If you’re coming as Hel’s liaison, I think it’s best if we present a united front.”
“See you in five,” I said, and ended the call.
One thing about living in a small town: It’s easy to estimate travel time. Five minutes later, I pulled alongside the squad car in the parking lot of Pineview Gas & Convenience.
Leaning over, Cody opened the passenger-side door for me. “So what was this important appointment you couldn’t reschedule?”
I slid into the seat. “None of your business.”
“I heard you broke up with the fake Jamaican,” he said. “I heard he’s not so fake, and his baggage is a problem.”
I gave Cody a sharp look. “Did the chief talk to you?”
“He worries.” Cody gave me a scowl in return. “I just wish the timing was better, Daise. Whatever’s going down with this sister of Sinclair’s, I wish it wasn’t happening around the full moon.”
“Yeah?”