“Yeah?”
“Because there were leprechauns high up in the companies. They’re great at making money—but they’re even better at lining their own pockets. Vivienne Sagadraco has used leprechauns in the past at Saga Investments, but got tired of having to watch their every move. She prefers to make her own investments with the help of a team of clairvoyants.”
I nodded in approval. “Nice to know the boss doesn’t take risks with our 401ks.”
“Our leprechaun nobles shouldn’t be difficult to spot, even using human glamours. It’s a bachelor party of five guys. There can’t be that many of them making the rounds tonight. And when we get them cornered, remember that leprechauns will promise anything to gain their freedom, and their loyalties are to themselves and that’s it. To trust a leprechaun for an instant means you’re either a fool or suicidal.”
“Is like playing Russian roulette,” Yasha said. “On the upside of playing with a gun, you only lose once.”
“What if the prince and his boys decide to split up?” I asked.
“Then it’s going to be a long night.” Ian paused and looked away from me. “Go ahead,” he said.
Then I realized he was on the phone. I’d never used those little Bluetooth earphone thingies, and I wasn’t about to. They made you look like you were walking around talking to yourself. Though I could see where they’d come in handy in the monster hunting/supernatural sleuthing business. If I was being chased down by something with six legs and a hankering for people sushi, I know I’d want to be hands free.
“I am from Saint Petersburg.” Yasha made no effort to keep his voice down or to stop Ian from hearing his caller. Apparently the Russian was more interested in talking to me than being considerate of Ian. It sounded like someone was miffed at potentially being stiffed for a surprise party. Since Yasha was our driver and backup, my partner might want to rethink that.
“I’m from a little town called Weird Sisters. It’s in the far western point of North Carolina.”
Yasha cocked an eyebrow. “Weird Sisters?”
“It was named after the three witches in Macbeth, and weird does describe most of the townfolk. It’s on a ley line that magnifies psychic and paranormal energies. I don’t know if there’s anything to that or not, but something attracts people—and non-people—to stop and stay.”
“Is your family people or not-people? My pardon, but I am not a seer, so I cannot tell if you wear glamour or not.”
I smiled. “That’s okay. Me and my family are plain vanilla human.”
“Plain vanilla?”
“Just regular folks. A lot of my family are seers who’ve gone into law enforcement. As long as anyone can remember, there’s been a Fraser as marshal, then sheriff. Right now, my aunt Vicki’s the police chief.”
There’s a hesitation in Ian’s phone conversation. I couldn’t hear anyone speaking on the other end of the line, so it was Ian who did the pausing. Then “Sir, are you there?” said a tinny voice on the other end.
“Yes, I’m here. I heard what you said,” Ian told the caller. “First three clubs on the list have been eliminated.”
My new, and apparently curious, partner had also heard every word I had said, too.
“When I was little, I wanted to be an investigative reporter for our local paper,” I continued to Yasha, talking just a wee bit louder so my partner wouldn’t have to work so hard to eavesdrop. “Protect the prey from the predators in my own way, without becoming a cop. But in a town with more than its fair share of actual psychics, unsolved crimes were gonna be few and far between.” I shrugged. “So I decided it was time for me to leave for good.”
“Little town in mountains sounds nice. Peaceful,” Yasha said almost wistfully. “Why come here?”
I shrugged again. “I wanted to use my journalism degree but all I could get was a job at a seedy tabloid called the Informer. You heard of it?”
The Russian chuckled. “And not in a good way.”
“That’s the place. Only stories like ‘Donald Trump is a werewolf lovechild’ had any hope of making it to the front page. If a story was the truth, great; if not, lies worked just fine. Our readership was gullible as hell and thought everything we printed was the gospel truth anyway.”
Yasha snorted in derision. “No werewolf would have hair like that. Would look foolish.”
“Lucky for me, one of my stories put me in Ms. Sagadraco’s sights. By that point, I’d take any job that’d let me regain some self-respect. When the HSR ladies called me with an offer, I couldn’t resign fast enough.”