Kindling the Moon (Arcadia Bell #1)(11)

“Bingo. That’s why he may be your guy. One of the goetias should have never been sent out on loan. No other known copy exists. It could fetch hundreds of thousands of dollars—possibly more—from the right buyer. The content inside the book is listed as being extremely unusual, so I’m guessing it may contain listings of Æthyric demons not found in other books.”

I must admit, I got a little excited about this bit of information; I had a thing for rare occult books, and with the pressing matter of my parents’ lives on the line, that made it even more enticing.

Father Carrow didn’t offer much more about the scandalous Lon Butler, and after the thirty-minute drive, I was starting to lose the caffeine buzz I’d pumped myself up with at lunch. I needed sleep or a strong cup of coffee. But when we finally made it to the small beach town, I got a second wind.

La Sirena is a strange place. Only a few thousand people live there, half of whom are bohemian artists; the other half has money, and lots of it. The heart of the small town includes several square blocks of buildings with Hansel and Gretel fairy-tale exteriors, known collectively as the Village. None of the buildings have addresses, just names. There also are no streetlights, and neon signs are prohibited. The sidewalks are irregular due to the abundance of beautiful Monterey cypress trees lining the cobblestone streets, whose gnarled roots have pushed the pavement up.

If you’re in the market for art, the Village contains a wealth of shops and galleries that sell paintings and ceramics from local artists. Between these, a plethora of restaurants and cafés dot the winding streets, along with quaint old-fashioned candy stores. And once you’ve had your fill of shopping and seafood, the rocky beach is only a few blocks away.

Father Carrow and I arrived at a small coffee shop in the Village several minutes before our designated meeting time, so we ordered inside—quad espresso for me, tea for him—and staked out a shady table in the back of a tree-filled courtyard at the side of the shop.

When Lon Butler rounded the corner and raised his hand to us, I was taken aback; he was not what I expected. I stood up from the table when Father Carrow made the introductions.

“Lon, this is Arcadia Bell. Cady, meet Lon Butler.”

Tall and lean, the man looked to be in his forties. Wavy, light brown hair fell to the tops of his shoulders and was neatly tucked behind his ears. A slender mustache trailed around his mouth and down his chin, matching the patch of hair below the center of his bottom lip. He reminded me of a pirate. A very attractive one.

He was also an Earthbound.

“Mr. Butler,” I said as he offered his hand to shake. I took it, and tried not to squint too hard at his halo. Usually Earth-bound halos are green or blue, but his was unusual—green near his head, changing to gold toward the outer edge, with small, shimmery bits suspended inside like glitter in a souvenir snow globe.

“Just Lon is fine,” he replied in a low monotone.

I stopped staring at his halo, only to find his own eyes fixed above my head. When Earthbounds first meet me and see my small silver halo, they’re usually wary or nervous. He wasn’t. Matching my gaze, bold and direct, he discretely lifted one eyebrow.

“I think you’ll both find,” Father Carrow said with a kind smile, “that the three of us have some concerns that intersect. Isn’t it wonderful when we can learn something new?”

Wonderful? I wasn’t sure about that. But it was certainly compelling. I wondered if Lon was the reason that Father Carrow had never pressed me too hard about the origins of my silver halo. Next to his, mine seemed almost pedestrian.

After Lon let go of my hand, I realized we’d been shaking far too long. My palms were hot and sweaty; I wiped them on my jeans as I sat down. Instead of taking the more convenient chair across the table, Lon sat in the empty seat next to me. A little too close. I didn’t like that.

“I’m afraid Cady isn’t a photography aficionado,” Father Carrow said as he pulled his chair closer to the table. “She owns a bar back in Morella. It’s got an interesting reputation.”

Lon’s eyes darted to mine, but he didn’t say anything. Tambuku Tiki Lounge wasn’t the only demon-friendly bar in Morella. Okay, maybe it was the only one with binding magick being used, but still, I doubted he’d heard of it way out here, and I definitely would have remembered seeing him in my bar.

I wrapped my hands around my coffee cup. “I didn’t think you’d be …” What? Another Earthbound, like Father Carrow? The first person I’d ever met with a halo weirder than mine? So good-looking? “So young,” I finished.

“You either.” His eyes trailed away as he pulled a silver cigarette case out of his denim jacket pocket.

Unsure whether that was a barb or not, I tried to keep my face blank to mimic his. He held out the open cigarette case in offering—valrivia. Its pungent, earthy scent was inviting. I hesitated, then gave in and took a skinny cigarette. He offered the case to Father Carrow with an inquiring chin nod.

“No, no,” Father Carrow said with a shake of his head.

“I’ve told you before, it doesn’t get you stoned. It’s just calming. I don’t think God would count it as a sin,” I teased.

“You’re probably right, but I just don’t understand the attraction.” He waved the case away. “I have trouble staying awake as it is at my age—I don’t need anything to make me calmer.”