Now, sit and I will tell you what I know, and then you can make an informed decision. No more of this guessing shit.”
I took the steps quickly and grabbed a wicker chair to her left, pulling it around. And that was when I realized that Penny and I were alone.
My friends were nowhere to be seen. “Where are they?” I stood and stared into the yard.
“They can wait out there.” She waved a hand. “To them, you’ll be gone for just a blink, but we’ll have time to chat a bit without intrusion. It’ll be easier to speak freely if you have just me to worry about.”
That made me frown and pause from my looking for my friends. “What are you saying? Who should I be worried about in my group?”
She snapped her fingers and a teapot and two cups materialized on the table next to her. “I feel like a little tea to get us started.”
Penny poured herself a mug and then reached under the table and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, uncapped it, and sent a goodly amount into her tea. More than two shots worth.
I liked her already.
I tapped the top of my teacup. “When in Rome. And make it a good one, it’s been a long day.”
She gave a cackle and poured more than a triple into my cup. “Your gran never drank with me. This will be fun. And to answer your question about your friends . . . I’m not saying they don’t all mean well, but each of them has other ties. The sexy as sin siren to the council and his own urges, the wolf to his pack, the fairy to her queen, and of course, the river maid to her boss. The only one without any conflicting loyalties is your bony friend.” She made a motion, and I looked over my right shoulder to see Robert swaying there quietly. Interesting that he’d been allowed to come and no one else.
I picked up the teacup and took a good slurp. The whiskey was sharp and oaky, and the burn in my belly helped ease the fear the wraiths had caused. Whiskey in a teacup, how classy of me.
“So I can’t trust them? That’s what you’re saying.” I held the cup in both hands and watched her over the rim.
She waved a hand at me, her knuckles prominent, the skin pulled taut over them. “No, but . . . you know already that the shadow world is rarely one thing or another. You can’t say all werewolves are good or bad. You can’t say that every goblin is a stinker, or that every fairy is helpful. The shadow world has far more shades of gray than it does simple black and white. And no matter how devoted your friends are to you, their previous ties will tug on them. Their very natures will tug on them. I imagine you’ve already seen that?”
I frowned and took another swig of the whiskey, focusing on the heat as it rolled down my throat and settled into my belly. She wasn’t wrong. I’d seen it with Corb and his ties to the council . . . and even with Crash and his unwilling connection to Karissa and the goblins.
Hell, Feish had caused trouble trying to be loyal to Crash during the whole Hattie mess.
I felt a soft weight on my head and realized Kinkly had never lifted off. I reached up and scooped her off the top of my head. She was passed out, and I flipped open my bag and slid her into it. She mumbled something but didn’t stir.
“Smart,” Penny murmured. “See, you know I’m not wrong.”
I took another swallow from my drink and got down to business. “My gran’s ghost was taken,” I said as I lowered the cup. “Everything is pointing to New Orleans. I’m going to find her. While I’m there, I want to find out why she and my parents were killed there. And Alan,” I added as an afterthought.
Penny closed her eyes, and her lips moved silently for a moment—in a prayer, maybe?—before she spoke. “Damnation. That woman gets herself into trouble even when she’s dead.”
My lips quirked. “Seems to be a family trait. Finding trouble that is.”
She snorted, then tapped the rim of her teacup with a fingernail. “True enough. You more than her, I’d guess?” She arched a brow in question.
I gave her a reluctant nod. “Seems that way. I’m not a witch like her. But