Frost & Bothered (11 page)

D
ane opened his front door at my knock, and stepped back. “Come in.”

His apartment didn’t have much by way of furniture. A small, round table with two chairs sat between the living and kitchen areas. A beige sofa was sandwiched by two square end tables, and fronted by a matching coffee table. Mismatched bookshelves lined the other walls, filled with paperback books.

One of the work laptops sat on the coffee table, next to a small printer and a box of manila folders. My partner took a seat on the sofa in front of the laptop. “I try to think of stuff that will help me be a better PI, since I don’t have your psychic leg up on it.”

Logan dropped his duffle by the door, and we crossed to sit on either side of Dane.

“I’ve been learning about social media sites and stuff. You know, bookmarking forums and sites that people from Santo Trueno hang out at.” Dane clicked on the favorites icon in the browser, and a list of folders appeared in a dropdown box. The folders were labeled with titles like “City” or “Colleges”, and “Clubs”, etcetera.

“Wait, you’re cataloging Santo Trueno?”

He smiled. “Well, I’m trying to. At least, everything I can find online. You know, the Internet is available to just about everyone, as long as they have a smart phone, or a library card, or use one of the Internet cafes.”

“No, I didn’t know that. I use the Internet at work, and I guess my phone isn’t smart.” I felt compelled to add, “I do know what social media is though.”

“You should upgrade your phone. Anyway, I’ve spent the day poking around, looking through social media sites and forums. I found those friends of Rico’s that his mother gave us the names of.”

“Awesome. Did you get their addresses?”

“Yeah, but none of them know anything.” Dane grinned at my raised eyebrows. “Email, Cordi. It’s the wave of the future.”

“Oh.”

“Well, email and social media. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. Rico’s not the only person who’s recently gone missing. Or,” he tapped around on the keyboard. “Is suspected of missing. Here it is.”

I looked at the screen, and the text document he’d opened. It was a list of seven names, with dates beside each that went back two weeks. Five of the names had red Xs beside them. “What’s the X for?”

“To mark the ones who were all last seen, or talked about going to, the same place. I don’t know about the other two yet.”

“The same place. Dreamland?”

He nodded.

I stared at the list. The final name, below Frederico Guerra’s, was Rebecca Spears. For some reason, I couldn’t look away from that name. It took me several seconds to make the connection. “Have you guys seen Becky?”

Both of them looked at me. I felt like punching a wall. “One of my trips to the restroom last night. A girl came in, looking for one of her friends.”

“Becky, Rebecca.” Logan touched the screen, pointing out the date beside her name. “Last night.”

“Son of a...we were right there.” I took a breath, and held my hand up to Dane. “High five, partner. You done good.”

Dane high-fived me. “We’re going to make a house call, aren’t we?”

“Oh, you bet. I’m sure Thorandryll will be thrilled to see us.”

W
hen I’d been released from Alleryn’s clinic after the Merriven ordeal, I had learned where Thorandryll’s sidhe was located. Actually, it seemed all of the elves’ sidhes were located in the same area: an older section with well-established estates in the north/northeastern-most end of the city.

Logan volunteered his chauffeuring services. Upon our arrival, the two elves standing on the other side of the beautifully carved wooden gates opened them, allowing us entry, truck and all.

“This is freaky as hell,” I complained as we left the truck. It wasn’t snowing in Thorandryll’s pocket realm, or his sidhe. I wasn’t sure if there were a distinction between the two or not. The sky overhead was blue, with a few fluffy clouds slowly travelling across it. We left our coats in the truck, but that didn’t help me much, since I’d worn a sweater.

“You’re not allowed to go home for two whole weeks?” Dane asked. We’d had to fill him in since more than one person had told Logan to “have a nice vacation” when we’d left the clan’s building.

“That’s what she said.”

“Wow.” My partner shook his head and ambled ahead of us.

I tapped Logan’s arm. “Why did you back off after I TKed her?”

“You can take care of yourself. I shouldn’t have tried to interfere between two queens.”

“But you’ve helped me out before.”

He nodded. “Against people who weren’t clan. That’s different. We’re supposed to protect the queens against outside threats. It’s our job.”

“But not inside threats?”

Logan made a face. “It’s a respect thing. A queen isn’t much of one if she can’t handle her own problems with other clan members.”

“Oh.”

“Usually, those problems don’t result in one queen trying to physically attack another,” he said. “I had a moment of dumb, grabbing you like that. If I’d messed up what you doing, it would’ve undermined your place in the clan.”

“I see. Okay.” Internal clan politics, something else I obviously needed lessons in. Personally, I liked the idea he’d been so ready to protect me from several hundred pounds of pissed-off tiger queen. Yet, I also liked that he knew I could take care of myself in such a situation.

“I apologize for interfering. I could’ve gotten you hurt.”

“Apology accepted, but thanks for being ready to step in. My telekinesis doesn’t always work, you know.” Though it usually did, since it was my most practiced ability, being such a useful one. In fact, thinking about, I realized I couldn’t remember the last time my TK hadn’t worked. At least not without help, like Merriven’s interference.

Logan nodded. We were nearing the steps to the graceful, white stone edifice that was Thorandryll’s home. “You’re welcome. Mind doing me a favor?”

“What?”

“Don’t goad Danielle anymore. Her birth clan follows the old traditions to a T, and one of them is that queens who can’t settle things peacefully do so by physical combat.”

Yikes. “I’ve already promised Terra I wouldn’t be a jerk to Danielle again.”

“Okay.” Logan glanced at me. “Sorry.”

“You’re supposed to keep the peace in the clan, right? You’re just doing your job.” I shrugged. “I’ll try not to make your job harder than it is.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” We climbed the steps to join Dane and a dark-haired elf dressed in light gray.

“Welcome, Miss Jones. If you’ll follow me, I’ll lead you to the Prince.”

“Sure. Thank you.” It peeved me that the elves ignored Dane and Logan, but throwing a fit about it wouldn’t change anything.

The elf led us through a grand hallway, a room with a lot of seating that looked like it was meant to be used for socializing, and out a set of French doors onto a side patio.

“Miss Jones, please join me.” Thorandryll gestured to a few lounging chairs near the one he was using. His golden blonde hair was loose around his broad shoulders, and dark-lensed shades hid his icy blue eyes. He wore a pair of clingy green riding britches and tall, highly polished brown riding boots. No shirt, because it was hanging over the back of his chair.

I wondered if all elves were smooth-chested while noting that his muscles were as well-defined as Logan’s. Including his abs.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Crap. I was staring. Embarrassment warmed my face, and I grabbed Logan’s hand to pull him over to one of the lounge chairs. “We’re investigating a series of disappearances.”

Logan waited until I sat before sitting next to me. Dane picked another chair. I tugged at the neck of my salmon pink sweater and squinted at the blue sky. Thirty degrees cooler would be nice. “Nice weather.”

“I prefer summer.” Thorandryll snapped his fingers, and the gray-suited elf who’d brought us to him stepped forward. “Shade and drinks for my guests.”

“At once, your Highness.”

Nice that he’d included the guys. While we waited, I looked around, and recognized the balcony I’d jumped off of during an earlier visit. It was a good twenty yards down the side of the house. Mansion? Palace? Architecture wasn’t a specialty of mine.

The servant brought out a crimson umbrella to shade us from the sun. A second servant—light gray clothing seemed to be the uniform for them—carried out a tray of drinks. The drinks were some sort of juice mixture over ice. I caught hints of orange and raspberry in it. “Thank you.”

“Quite welcome.” Thorandryll smiled as cool air began to flow down from the umbrella. I refused to look up. There wouldn’t be anything to see, because magic.

The elf prince took a second to call attention to his shirtless state with a lazy gesture. “Forgive my disarray. I was riding earlier, and didn’t expect visitors.”

My eyes were not behaving themselves. Silently scolding them, I took a sip of juice and moved my foot, putting my leg in contact with Logan’s. A faint smile appeared on his face, which he immediately hid by taking a drink.

“Yeah, sorry to barge in like this, but we kind of have seven missing people to find, and discovered the weirdest coincidence. There’s one thing they all have in common.”

Thorandryll laced his fingers together and rested his hands on the waist of his riding britches. The move called his abs to my attention again. Damn it. “Which is?”

“The last place they were seen, or told others they planned to visit.” I smiled. “Your club, Dreamland.”

“Interesting.”

“We thought so. Me especially, since I learned a while back that elves have a history of abducting humans. I mean, pretty ones, and wouldn’t you know it? All seven missing people are damned good-looking.”

Thorandryll chuckled. “Times have changed, Miss Jones. Since the Melding, hardly a day goes by that I don’t receive an invitation to intimacy from a few people.”

He’d said “people” and I blinked, giving that word choice some serious thought. “Men hit on you?”

“Some men do prefer their own sex.”

Before I could stop, I asked, “Do you?”

Dane choked on his drink, and I felt Logan quiver. I’d probably just broken a huge supe rule about being nosy, and really, the question wasn’t one I’d have asked a human. But it didn’t faze the elf prince. “No, but the offers are flattering.”

“Not that I care.” Boy, that was just as rude as asking in the first place. “I have a hard time keeping my curiosity to myself these days. Sorry.”

“I’m certain your curiosity is a boon to your chosen profession.”

“Yeah. Anyway, missing people, your club, and history. My curiosity is on fire.”

He smiled. “I’m afraid I know nothing about the disappearances.”

Okay, if he wasn’t lying, I needed to try a different angle since Dreamland was the only connection we’d discovered between the missing. “Then I guess we’ll go to the cops and dump it on them. Mayor Wells has been keeping a close eye on cases involving supes ever since the vamps went public about those bodies. I imagine he’ll be all over the fact they went missing at a club owned by an elf prince.”

His laughter was an unexpected response. “I do enjoy the way you think, but threatening media exposure of crimes I have no part in isn’t the best leverage.”

“No? I wonder how many people will continue going to a club others have a history of disappearing from? I’m going with ‘not many’. Logan?”

“Not many is my guess too.”

I
tsk
ed a few times. “It’s a really nice club. Shame it won’t last, but I’m sure you can eat the loss, right?”

Thorandryll was still smiling. “My businesses don’t fail, Miss Jones.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” I watched him while having a sip of juice. “How expensive is it to build a new pocket realm? Can they be moved?”

His smile dimmed. “You’re more than welcome to search the club, if that is what’s behind your questions.”

“Great, but I doubt we’ll find anything on our own.”

“What is it you wish for me to do?”

“Give us a tour. Stand around looking all princely while we question your employees. Maybe one’s playing games.” I tapped my nails against my glass. “Or, if you’re lying, just confess.”

“The last time I failed to divulge all I knew to you, it proved costly.” Thorandryll removed his shades. “I swear by Danu I have no part in the disappearances of any humans in this time.”

Huh, worded like that, it sounded like he was admitting to past kidnappings. I looked at Logan, who said, “He’s telling the truth. Elves don’t swear by Danu lightly.”

“Okay.”

“However,” the elf continued. “It’s possible you may have uncovered someone using my club as a hunting ground.”

“Hunting implies killing, and the man we’ve been hired to find is alive.”

“For now.”

Sometimes, I kind of hating dealing with supes. Then again, humans could be just a blood-thirsty. “And the motive for that would be?”

“Failure of my newest business pursuit.”

His ego was amazing. “Let me get this straight: Someone’s kidnapping people to make you look bad?”

Thorandryll raised his eyebrow. “You find that unlikely?”

He had a point. After all, he was the reason Dalsarin, the last of the dark elves, had chosen Santo Trueno as Ground Zero for his world domination plan. “Honestly? Nope. I bet you’ve pissed off scads of people since you learned to talk.”