Kindling the Moon (Arcadia Bell #1)(100)

Caliph Superior called me just about every day to check on me. He offered to visit and help me work on using my Moonchild ability. Said he’d send me everything he could find about it in the main lodge’s library. But I was wary about using it. There were too many bad feelings associated with it, and, sure, maybe I was a little bit chicken. Wouldn’t you be?

The caliph also told me that the Luxe Order had officially gone on record as maintaining a neutral relationship with our order again. Their leader, Magus Zorn, had told me after I’d banished Nivella in San Diego that he forgave me for what I did to Riley. Lon told him that he forgave Riley for what she did to Jupe, and that kind of shut Magus Zorn up. I think he was pretty damn scared of Lon, to be honest. Perhaps scared of me, too.

And he wasn’t the only one. The head of the Hellfire Club, Mr. Dare, wanted to meet me. Through Lon, he’d sent a promise to have both David and Spooner punished; maybe they’d lose a turn with a succubus or be forced to fight it out in the demon ring. Mr. Dare also sent me a lovely hand-carved thirteenth-century caduceus. Impressive. Nothing says peace offering like a priceless medieval occult item, I supposed.

“Hey,” I said to Lon, suddenly remembering, “the caliph told me today that you’ve refused the money he tried to give you for the talon.”

“Mmm.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It just feels wrong. We’ve got the talon, so if I take his money, it’s like I’ve sold it to him. And that makes me no better than Spooner. So let’s just keep the damn thing locked up and call it even.”

All right, then. I knew the caliph would keep hounding me, but whatever. I couldn’t force Lon to take the money.

A long moment stretched out between us. I listened to the waves breaking against the rocks below until Lon finally spoke again.

“I haven’t been asking you to haul Jupe around for grief therapy, you know,” he said in a soft voice.

“Huh?”

“It’s for my benefit too.”

“Free babysitting?”

“No … familiarity creates bonds.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded against my neck. “He grows on you. Right?”

“Like mold.”

Lon chuckled deep and low, his chest vibrating against my shoulder. “Yeah, like mold.”

An unseasonably cool ocean breeze fluttered our hair and seeped into my bones. I shivered and wedged myself further under him. He gathered me closer, kissed my neck, then spoke in a low voice next to my ear. “I figure, see, if you find yourself getting more attached to the two of us than you planned, maybe you won’t think about picking up and leaving to start another life somewhere else.”

“I haven’t thought too much about that, not in the last few days,” I admitted after a time.

“But you did at first—right after. I could hear it, you know.” He fingers brushed over my clavicle, tracing the bone to my shoulder.

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand, but if you did want to do that, I hope you’d be honest and tell me. I might try to talk you out of it, but I wouldn’t stop you. I’m here for you … unconditionally.”

Sadness crept over me. I tried to push it back, but it was persistent. “No one can be there unconditionally for someone else, Lon. There’s no such thing.”

“Sure there is.”

“I gave my support to my parents unconditionally, and look where it got me.”

“That’s true, but it doesn’t mean you should just give up on the whole damn concept. Believe me, I know a thing or two about pain and grief. I could be bitter at this point in my life and unwilling to trust anyone, but I’m not.”

“Hmph.”

“I’m older and wiser,” he teased. “You should listen to me.”

I laughed as the patio glass door slid open behind us. A frenzied rush of dog feet clamored down the redwood stairs. Foxglove whooshed by us, barking madly.

The sheen of black fur and fluorescent purple collar blurred past the edge of the cliff and into the adjacent woods where a narrow, dirt back road teetered down the mountain toward the rocky beach.

“What the hell?” I murmured as we sat up in the grass and watched her bound away.

Jupe stomped across the deck in pursuit. “It’s that mermaid ghost,” he explained, breathless. “Below the sea stack. Can you see her? Foxglove always knows when she’s down there.”

We stood up, brushing off our clothes, and ambled across the yard together toward the cliff’s rocky edge. Lon’s “moat” lay at my feet: the circular house ward. Like the one he’d helped erect back at my house, it dimly glowed with charged Heka. I stood behind it like a bowler avoiding the foul line and peered over the cliff at the dark bit of rocky land jutting out from the Pacific. “Hmm … I don’t see anything.”

“Me neither,” Lon agreed.

“Look, I know you both think I’m stupid and that neither of you believe in ghosts, but I know she’s there. It’s not an imp.” Jupe padded up behind us in his pajama bottoms, a T-shirt, and bare feet. “I bet if we went down there right now, Foxglove would lead us straight to her.”

I laughed. “There is no way in hell I’m walking down there right now. It’s a twenty-minute walk down the side of the cliff.”