A Den of Tricks (A Shade of Vampire #54)

“Ah, we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” Patrik shook his head with disappointment.

“Well, you can also try Master Specter’s store on the first level, if you’re in a hurry,” the second Iman replied. “He usually opens a stall during the Spring Fair, as well. You could check with him first before the Spring Fair. He closes at midnight, so you still have some time.”

“Thank you.” Patrik beamed at the Imen with renewed enthusiasm, then gave me a confident wink. “Let’s go see Master Specter.”

He kept holding my hand as we left the library and rushed down the alleys and stone steps leading to the first level. The evening had set in cool shades of purple in the sky, the streetlamps were lit, and people had begun to scatter away to their homes.

My pulse raced as I followed Patrik, his touch making my arm tingle. I couldn’t believe I’d actually kissed him. My courage had come out of nowhere, and it had disappeared just as fast. But I’d kissed Patrik, and the feeling that lingered over my lips was proof that I hadn’t imagined it.

I held my breath whenever he glanced at me. All I could think of were the consequences of my gesture. How did this change the dynamic between us? Would it have a negative impact? Was he going to tell me I made a mistake?

Did I, though? Did I make a mistake? Or am I just overthinking this?

How couldn’t I overthink it? I’d just freakin’ kissed Patrik.





Avril





(Daughter of Lucas & Marion)





We looked around on the third level of the city, asking the occasional passing Iman to show us where Lemuel’s bookstore was. One young Iman girl pointed us the right way, and, shortly after we’d left Cynara and Hera back at the South Bend Inn, we found the old Iman’s place.

The lights were off. Heron and I quickly circled the house, listening and looking for any sign of movement inside, but the place was empty.

“We need to get inside, though,” I said, checking to see if anyone was coming by. Lemuel’s house was on a relatively secluded street, and the evening shade did a pretty good job of further concealing it. “I have to catch his scent from an object he has touched.”

“Okay, I can help with that.” Fiona smirked and produced a pin from her hair, which she used to pick the lock on the main door, while Heron and I kept a lookout.

The lock’s mechanism surrendered with a click, and Fiona pushed the door open. We went inside and began our survey of the place, without turning any lights on. The bookstore was on the ground floor—a quaint little place with wooden shelves and racks loaded with a variety of books, scrolls, and literary papers. Judging by the titles, there were some Imen works being sold; the Imen author names carried the mention of their species on the covers. I figured the titles were necessary to differentiate between the Maras and Imen.

There was a small reception desk in a corner, behind a circular staircase leading upstairs. Farther to the right, there was a kitchen area separated from the bookstore with a wooden panel, on which various literary scenes were illustrated in broad and colorful brush strokes. The opposite corner held a reading space, complete with a bench and two velvet armchairs, and molten candles on a side table.

Heron followed me upstairs, while Fiona kept looking through the shelves.

“Maybe there’s something useful here about the asteroid belt,” she whispered before I started up the stairs.

“Fair enough,” I replied. “I’ll look for something of Lemuel’s in the meantime.”

The top floor was spacious and modestly furnished, with a bedroom, an open living room, a kitchenette, and a tiled bathroom. I found a coat thrown on the armrest of one of the lounge chairs, and briefly sniffed it. Lemuel’s scent reminded me of crisp autumn mornings, a mixture of burnt wood, fallen leaves, and crushed grapes filling my senses.

“Got it?” Heron watched me, his jade eyes flickering with curiosity. I gave him a brief nod, and he moved back toward the stairs. “Let’s go, then.”

I followed him back to the ground floor, where Fiona was sifting through the bookshelves, checking each volume carefully before putting it back.

“We’re going to track Lemuel,” I said slowly. “Do you want to stay here and keep looking through the books, Fi? Or do you want to come with us? It’s up to you.”

“I’ll stay here.” She gave me a reassuring smile. “If anything, I’ll see you two later, at the infirmary. I’ve got that dinner to get to, anyway, so I’ll just hang out here until it’s time to go change.”

“Ah, yes, you’ll have to get all pretty and fabulous to knock Vincent off his feet.” Heron grinned playfully, and I gave up on nudging him for his taunts. I actually found his banter attempts cute, even endearing at times. His sense of humor and lightheartedness made our compulsory stay on Neraka a bit more bearable.

“At least I’ll be treated to a fancy dinner and not be roaming through this wretched city at night, unlike other people I know,” Fiona shot back, wiggling her eyebrows.

I chuckled as we left her in the bookstore and took to the streets to look for Lemuel. His scent lingered heavily in the air, and I could confidently follow it down the alley leading into the western part of the third level.

“Do you think Lemuel is keeping those hidden archives back there?” Heron asked as we walked through a thinning crowd of Imen and Maras. Most were going home, but some wore black uniforms and were headed to the city’s inns and bars for the night shift—I could tell from the crisp scent of fresh laundry, along with the fragrances and other toiletries they’d used to look their part as servants in certain establishments.

“In the bookstore, you mean?” I asked, and he replied with a nod. “Maybe, but not in plain sight, and we don’t have Harper to help us with her True Sight. If he’s keeping them at his place, they’re well hidden. Lemuel doesn’t strike me as a careless Iman, based on what scents I caught in his house.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he uses a lot of detergents around the place, and those substances can really throw a tracker’s nose off the grand prize,” I said. “It’s why I needed to sniff his coat to get a good trail. You wouldn’t notice it at first, but that bookstore would normally smell like old books, ink soaked into pages, and even a little mold and dust from the older stuff he keeps in there. But it smells of… brandy and lime, incense and something akin to bleach. That place was scrubbed clean.”

“Maybe he was doing some spring cleaning in there.” Heron gave me an amused sideways glance as we turned left into another alley.

We passed a local tavern and a couple of stores, and Lemuel’s scent got stronger.