Once he recovered, maybe we could engage in some of the activities he’d suggested—innuendoed—when he’d been dying.
The thought left me feeling optimistic as I fired up my espresso machine. I had little doubt that numerous troubles remained that would plague me—even if Radomir was dead, Abrams might prove the vengeful sort—but we’d found the sword, and we’d healed Duncan of his malady. Correction: he’d proven himself to the medallion, andithad healed him.
I almost laughed at the realization that we might not have needed to go up there and endure all that. Maybe he could have gotten into a bar fight to prove he was worthy to be an alpha. No, probably not. Whatever sentience guided these artifacts was smarter than that. Besides, we wouldn’t have found the sword in a bar.
Leaving it on the floor next to the couch for Duncan to sleep-guard, I took a latte and stepped outside, intending to head to the leasing office to catch up on work. A recently marked rhododendron in front of my apartment made me pause, my nose keen enough to pick up a scent that hadn’t been left by one of the tenant’s dogs. Awolfhad been by. One I’d met before.
Izzy.
I sighed, certain she’d peed on the bush to leave a message specifically for me. I stepped back into my apartment and grabbed the bracelet we’d found in Abrams’s underground office. Since it was magical, it had been easier to locate than my phone. If I sent it back to Ivan, would his sister leave me alone?
“Let’s hope,” I muttered, though I had a feeling I would see her again.
In the leasing office, I poked through drawers until I found a box suitable for shipping the bracelet. If I delivered it in person, Ivan might hit on me, and I wasn’t in the mood for that.
Bolin arrived while I was addressing the box.
“I’ve got good news for you, Luna,” he said.
“Good news? For me? I didn’t know such a thing existed.”
“It’s about our putative buyers.”
“Oh?” I asked warily.
“Yup. They pulled out, just like you thought they would. My parents think they got cold feet.”
“They got cold… something.”
The memory of Radomir’s mangled body at the bottom of the cliff came to mind, legs dangling in the stream. Had the authorities or his minions found it yet? Did Abrams know what had happened?
“I’m glad it turned out that way,” Bolin said. “Especiallyafter that farce of a building inspection, I believed everything you said about them, that they weren’t legitimate buyers. I tried to tell my parents, but…” He spread his arms. “They didn’t want to listen. They’re bummed that the deal fell through, but I’m glad.”
“I suppose they’ll put the listing back on the market.”
Even though I was relieved Radomir wasn’t in the picture any longer, nothing had changed as far as my future work and living arrangements were concerned. Another seller would come along, and I’d have to uproot my life and figure out something new.
“Yeah, sorry. I know you would prefer that things stay the same, but…”
“Is there nothing that could change their minds about selling this place? What if— Well, I can’t promise anything…” Especially not with Abrams still out there. “Still, what if weird things stopped happening here? That was what prompted them to wantto sell in the first place, wasn’t it? The increased crime and, uh, paranormal activity in Shoreline?”
“I think it’s what put the idea in their minds, yeah.”
Not sure my actions at the movie theater would ensure the local thugs didn’t come around anymore, I didn’t promise that, but IhopedI’d made my point and that things would quiet down.
“It was going to happen sooner or later anyway, though,” Bolin added. “Like I told you, they’ve been starting to talk about retirement plans. Or at least simplifying their portfolio and handing off only the really good properties to the next generation to manage.” He touched his chest. “They said they’re waiting for me to be more experienced and mature but that they want me to one day run everything.”
“More experienced and mature? So we’ve got, what, twenty years?”
“Ha ha. Do you want me to get you into any more networking events? Jasmine said she would try again. She’s still job hunting.”
“Oh, right. How did non-alcoholic espresso-martini night go?”
How had theirdategone? I didn’t say that.
Bolin twisted his lips. “The recipe I found basically made a thin coffee-flavored chocolate milkshake.”
“Isn’t that okay? Those are good flavors.”
