Police Chief,
Do not let anyone read this letter. Not your sisters, not the gods, nor any creature. Meet me behind the Blue Owl diner at midnight. I know who took the power.
The letter wasn’t signed, dated, or otherwise marked.
“Well?” Jean leaned toward me. I folded the letter and tucked it back in the envelope.
“I’m not going to lie to you, but I can’t tell you what the letter says.”
“Like hell you can’t.”
“Tell me instead,” Crow suggested.
“No.”
The silence in the room would have been comical if I didn’t know just how annoyed I had made Jean.
“Is it about the murder?” she asked, no more humor in her voice.
“I’m not going to do twenty questions with you too.”
“Is it?”
“No. And that’s all I’ll say.”
“Is it from your boyfriend?” Crow asked.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
That, apparently, was top-quality comedy right there and Crow laughed himself silly. When he finally got done and focused on me again, his mirth turned to surprise. “Oh, come on. Have you forgotten Ryder Bailey? Your boyfriend?”
“We’re not dating and we’re not going to date.” That sounded firm. Sounded sure. It didn’t matter if I secretly wasn’t so sure it was the truth.
“You two have been dating since eighth grade.” He held up one hand to stop me from arguing. “Walking each other to class, showing up at the same birthday parties, helping each other with school projects, and let’s not forget those long looks when you didn’t think the other was looking.” He made a kissy face while batting his eyes.
“We weren’t dating. We were kids.”
“You joined the volley ball team just so you could see him outside the locker room when he was warming up for baseball practice.”
My eyes went wide. I’d never told anyone that. There was no chance that I’d been that obvious about Ryder. “I joined volleyball because I liked the game.”
“Because the games gave you a chance to see Ryder sweaty without his shirt on.”
“Who told you that?”
Jean snorted.
“Like anyone had to tell me?” Crow smiled again, but this time it was more the smile of an uncle who had known me since I was born. “Delaney, you’ve always loved him. Maybe as a friend for a while. But as you got older, it was a different kind of love.”
I gave him what I hoped was a piercing glare. “What do you know about love?”
“So very many things,” he said in a way that carried the years of his life that were far from mortal. “Enough to know he loves you too.”
“If you think he loves me, why haven’t you ever told me that before?”
“Hello? Trickster god. It’s a lot more fun to watch you two crazy kids bumble around and try to figure it out on your own.”
This time Jean laughed. “Just when I thought I couldn’t stand you for a second longer, umbrella head, I change my mind.”
“So is the note from Ryder?” Crow asked.
“No. And before you ask: it’s not dangerous, it’s not signed, it’s not anything that will be a problem.”
Jean shook her head. “Not good enough for me. Let me see it.”
“No.”
“Delaney, you’re going to let me see it.”
“Do you have a bad feeling about this thing? A doom-twinge?” Jean could usually feel when something bad was about to happen. It was her special skill.
I held up the envelope. Her expressive blue eyes ticked to the envelope. I could almost feel her trying to see what was on the paper inside.
“No,” she finally said after a full minute.
“Then you know this isn’t something that will endanger my life.”
She didn’t really know that. None of us had that power. But if it were truly dangerous, Jean would at least have a bad feeling about it.
“I have a bad feeling about it,” she said.
“Really?”
She dropped her eyes. “No. But I don’t like that you’re not telling me what’s in that letter.”
“I’ll tell you tonight,” I promised. “You’re working graveyard, right?”
She nodded, and stifled a yawn. “Should have been out of here an hour ago. Have you seen Myra?”
Just then, Myra walked through the door. Showing up exactly when she was needed was Myra’s special skill.
“Morning.” She looked a little tired, but had a bag of pastries in her hand that smelled like apples and cinnamon.
“Morning,” I said as she hung up her coat that was wet, but not dripping. Looked like we might be finally getting a break in Thor’s temper tantrum. Her shirt was untucked, and lifted a bit. Just enough to show me a little bit of skin that was bruised green.
“You’re in late. Something come up this morning? Fall in the shower?”
She shook her head, but wasn’t making eye contact. If I knew her, and I did, I’d suspect she was keeping something from me. Which meant she was.
I didn’t like the idea that whatever it was, it involved bruises.
Maybe for once it was something good? Myra deserved some happiness. She had always been the most serious of us Reed girls, but since Dad had died, that subtle joy inside of her had seemed to falter and fade.
Maybe she had a boyfriend. She hadn’t dated since Tristan left for Europe. It had been a quiet sort of love affair—which is the only kind of love affair Myra had ever had—and Myra never really spoke of him except to say that they had parted as friends.
Or it was possible I was just projecting my hopes and issues on my sister. Just because I wished I had figured out where I really stood with Ryder and had done something about it, didn’t mean all of my sisters wanted to be dating.
“You still seeing Hogan?” I asked Jean.
She gave me a look that told me just how random that question seemed.
I waited. It might have come out of the blue, but I was still curious.
“It’s complicated?” she finally said. Well, sort of asked.
“Is he bothering you?” Myra used that protective tone she’d had ever since I’d been shot. “Do I need to go talk to him?”
“Delaney got an anonymous letter on her doorstep this morning!” Jean blurted.
Total diversionary tactic, the rat.
It worked. Myra’s cool blue gaze shifted to me with laser-like focus. “Show me the letter.”
I held up the envelope, flipped it so she could see front and back and then shoved it into the pocket of my coat.
“Not funny.” Myra advanced. I noticed Crow made himself busy staring at the uninteresting notices and tsunami evacuation routes that covered one of the lobby walls. “Give it to me.”
She wasn’t usually this bossy. Well, no, that’s not true. She was always a bit firm about the things she wanted to happen. But the last year and a half had put a grimness in her I wanted to take away.