infighting and lack of cooperation between Keepers in Los Angeles. Here she was being strong-armed by people who had no authority except in their own little elite circle—and in their own heads.
“Well, since I’m not investigating Mayo, there really isn’t a problem,” she said again, and started to stand. “So, thanks for dropping by—”
“There’s another thing,” the shifter Keeper said. “This...relationship you have with Mick Townsend.”
Barrie tensed up in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a small community, Ms. Gryffald,” the Elven Keeper said. “You weren’t exactly being discreet at the premiere the other night.”
Barrie stared back at her. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Townsend is a maverick,” the werewolf Keeper said. “He refuses to play ball, and he refuses to stay out of what is patently Keeper business. You may want to rethink things.”
Now Barrie did stand, facing them. “You may want to rethink coming to my home and telling me what to do.”
The other Keepers glanced at each other, and then they all rose.
“I hope you’ll consider your position. You have a lot to live up to, and many eyes are upon you.” The Elven Keeper looked around the house meaningfully, and then they all moved toward the entry hall.
Barrie followed them and shut the front door behind them harder than she needed to, but she was furious. “Stuck-up creeps,” she muttered as she locked it and stomped back toward the living room, not even caring that some Keepers, like vampires, had supersensitive ears. “Trying to order me around.”
She didn’t have time to stew, though, because her phone was pinging to announce a text. She scrambled for her purse, pulled out her phone and looked at the screen. The text read: If you want to know more, Travis will see you at midnight. There was a Malibu address.
The sender was DJ, the same phone number that Brad the assistant had used to confirm their appointment.
“Travis Branson,” Barrie murmured, startled. She felt a rush of excitement, and also doubt. “Is this for real?”
Of course the director would respond to a request by DJ, that part she could believe. But DJ may have just tried to kill you, she reminded herself. So what if it’s a trick?
She walked the living room in a circle, debating. Now that the Keepers were gone, Sophie padded into the doorway to see what was going on.
“How can I not go?” Barrie asked the cat. Even if DJ’s just messing with me and didn’t really set it up with Branson, if I go there and say that DJ sent me, I may be able to talk to him, anyway.
As baffling as the puzzle pieces were, Barrie felt that she was getting more of the big picture with every piece, every encounter.
She grabbed her phone and quickly texted her cousins. She knew she should add the emergency code or, better yet, go over to their houses and wake them up directly, but she hesitated.
“I have time to make it to Malibu by midnight,” she murmured to Sophie, by way of excuse. And she headed for her bedroom to change.
* * *
It might have been the sea air, or the cold light of the moon on the ocean, but Barrie regained her senses once she hit the Pacific Coast Highway. The unexpected visit and attempted strong-arming by the other Keepers had pissed her off, but now that she was calmer she was willing to admit that she should have company on this particular late-night visit. She fumbled on her Bluetooth to phone Mick. All she got was voice mail.
“Don’t kill me!” she said into the headset impulsively. “But DJ talked to Travis Branson, and he wants to see me tonight. I’m headed there now.” She recited the address and wanted to say more but felt too awkward, so she finished, “I...I’ll call you later if I don’t hear from you.”
She wanted to say “Please come with me,” but she didn’t quite have the nerve.
* * *
Branson’s house was on the beach, of course, that extremely rarified strip of land known as Point Dume. Barrie had only ever been there because Declan Wainwright lived there, too.
Declan, she thought, with a surge of hope. He’ll come in with me. If he’s home...
But she already knew he wasn’t. Not on a Friday night. Not when he ran the most happening club on Sunset.
She used her phone and left a quick message for him, anyway. Can’t hurt to have everyone in the Otherworld know where I am, right?
As she disconnected, she realized she had arrived.