Scales of truth, p.4
Scales of Truth, page 4
Nevertheless, she couldn’t deny the charm of the apartment.
“The amenities are great,” Amy commented. She wandered through the kitchen, pointing out the quality of the appliances and the space, which was rare for a New York City apartment. The place was also near both their jobs. It was perfect, but Stacy remained in thoughtful silence, unable to pinpoint what, exactly, bothered her about it.
She stepped onto the balcony, the city sprawling out before her in the last glow of the day, and felt an unexpected sense of alienation. The dazzling high-rise view made her feel far away from everything. Her possessions could fix the impersonal quality of the apartment, but the cold touch of marble and glass throughout the building didn’t resonate with her. She couldn’t help but think of her father’s estate and how right it felt to be there.
That won’t work, though, she thought. We have to be in the city for our work.
Stacy turned and headed inside, feeling adrift, caught between two worlds where neither felt like a place she could truly call home. One other problem was that she didn’t feel a real sense of security. This place could stop a regular intruder such as a burglar, but a werewolf? What would happen to Amy if a magical person broke in?
The whole point had been to find something safer. Could Stacy maintain wards over her apartment? How could she do that without blocking Amy out? It was a question for Ethan. He would know.
She glanced back through the windows and noted whose high-rise office building stood across the street, windows awash in an array of warm lights. She turned to the realtor. “May I ask who owns this building?”
“Mr. Preacher, ma’am,” Ms. Wells replied. “He owns half the luxury apartment buildings in this area of the city.”
“And the main shareholders?” Stacy pressed.
“I-I don’t know, ma’am.” Ms. Wells gave a nervous laugh. “I’m not used to potential residents asking such questions.”
Stacy smiled. “Don’t worry. I was merely curious.”
Ms. Wells asked if they would like to see other units. Before Amy could agree, Stacy jumped in with, “Thank you, Ms. Wells, but this was enough for today.” The realtor’s face brightened, believing she had sold a place. “We will need some time to think about this one, though. I’ll be in touch if we decide to take it.”
Ms. Wells tried to hide her displeasure. “Please don’t take long. These units go fast after they’re shown, and since this one is brand new, it will be shown frequently this week.”
Amy’s rushed “We’ll let you know soon” seemed to put the realtor at ease.
Stacy and Amy headed downstairs in silence until they were halfway across the lobby to the doors, and Amy remarked, “What about that place did you not like? I thought it was lovely. If it’s the price…”
Stacy shook her head. “Not the price. I don’t know, Amy. It didn’t feel like it could be mine.”
Amy looped an arm through hers. “Don’t worry. We have plenty of places to look. We can go see a few more before calling it a night. The other two are on this block. How does that sound?”
Stacy managed a smile, for Amy’s sake. “Sounds good.”
They walked out onto the street, and Amy laughed. “The question about shareholders was weird, though. What was that about?”
Stacy glanced across the street at the office building she had spotted earlier. She then took out her phone and did a quick search. “I knew it. The main shareholder for this place is the Corbinelli Corporation, and I have no doubt the other places on this street are Mr. Preacher’s, too.”
Amy groaned, then seemed to find a silver lining. “Maybe being closer to the enemy could be an advantage. We’d be working right under their noses.”
Stacy hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe. Let’s go see the others and decide from there.” They took off toward the next building, and the city morphed into its nightly charm with lights glowing from windows. However, Stacy couldn’t enjoy the enchanting surroundings. All she could think about was the estate outside the city and how these tall buildings didn’t feel like home.
Stacy returned to her apartment after two more hours of house hunting, which ended with her in a dismal silence and Amy trying to assure her they would find a place. “The city is huge, Stace, and we haven’t even glimpsed a quarter of the places we wanted to. We’ll find the perfect home for us.” Still, even Amy had seemed hopeless by the end. Her good spirits had morphed into a strained effort to cheer them both up. Stacy felt bad for making Amy go through so much today.
Her apartment was normally a sanctuary of calm and order, but the past two days’ events had turned it into a disordered space. Papers were strewn about, and legal books lay open and abandoned.
Stacy paced the living room, her movements sharp and erratic. She’d been feeling like this all week but had written it off earlier as stress from her case. Now, she realized that was only part of it. She was also concerned about her father’s mysterious absence and the magic building up inside her. She hadn’t done anything to release her magic in weeks and would have to soon unless she wanted her apartment building to experience a small earthquake.
She ruminated over her current case, wracking her brain on how to find the missing evidence. The trouble was, if Lenny had taken it, he’d probably found a way to destroy it. Plus, whatever threat he’d hung over her witness’ head was too great. She doubted she could convince the witness to testify truthfully now.
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” she wondered aloud. “I could take a different angle to the case, but it’d be like starting all over. I’d lose the momentum I had earlier, and the jury will see me as scattered and unorganized.” She threw her hands up. “It all makes Lenny look better!” Stacy had no doubt this had been his intention all along.
She recalled what Amy said earlier about moving into one of the apartment buildings Victor Corbinelli owned shares in. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to live under their noses. Lenny wasn’t going away anytime soon. Stacy rubbed her temples, wishing the headache that had developed over the past few hours would go away.
A ding from her phone interrupted her thoughts.
ETHAN
Still on for drinks tonight?
He’d also sent the address of a nearby bar she frequented that was quite a trek from his shop. It warmed her heart to think he’d come miles across the city to make their meet-up convenient for her.
I fucking forgot about our plans. What is wrong with me today? she thought as she typed her response.
STACY
Leaving now!
The last thing she wanted to do was blow Ethan off. Maybe he could give her some advice. He does own a shop called The Saige Page, after all, Stacy joked to herself as she hurried to change her clothes.
The night was crisp when she exited her apartment and headed off to meet him. After all that had happened today, she looked forward to a drink.
Ethan was sitting at the bar when she arrived, already halfway through a beer.
He wore the same navy blue sweater Stacy always saw him in, and she wondered if it was his favorite and if he chose to wear it around her because he knew how good he looked. It made his tan skin richer, his dark eyes more pleasant. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing strong arms and a small whorl tattoo on his inner arm.
The warm ambiance of the bar made her feel better the second she stepped in. The lighting was softer, not harsh and bright like her apartment. The murmur of intimate conversation surrounded her. This had always been one of Stacy’s favorite bars. It was quieter, and seldom were the TVs playing sports. Ethan didn’t seem to mind. Though he enjoyed football like any other man her age, he was content to have more academic conversations with his date.
Is this a date? she wondered as she headed over. Ethan caught her eye and waved, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Her belly’s somersault told her it felt like a date, at least.
“You forgot about our plans tonight, didn’t you?” Ethan quipped as she slid onto the barstool next to him.
“Why on Earth would you think that?”
He gave her a knowing smile. “Because you’re ten minutes late. Not complaining, but you’re usually ten minutes early.”
Stacy grinned. She’d caught Ethan unaware several times by arriving at his shop early for lessons. Once, he’d still been in a bathrobe with hair mussed from sleep. Another time, he’d been hurrying to clean the space before she arrived.
“Got to keep you on your toes,” she commented, then buried her face in her hands and groaned. “I did fucking forget. I don’t know what is wrong with me today.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ethan sipped from his bottle.
Stacy didn’t need further encouragement. She spilled it out. She told him about her case, the missing evidence, and barely getting the continuance. She explained about her father’s mysterious time away but didn’t mention he was the well-known wealthy Khan Drakethorn. She still hadn’t told Ethan her real last name. She revealed her bad luck with apartment hunting and that her magic was building up and would need a release soon.
She knew Ethan had cast a muffling spell over them the second she sat down, which only opened when the bartender asked what she wanted to drink. Stacy ordered the same beer as Ethan, then confessed, “I don’t understand how everything could go so wrong at the same time. My dad usually is the one I’d talk to, so I’m sorry if this is a lot.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed. “You can’t call him?”
Stacy drank, then clarified, “There’s a…time difference that makes it difficult.” She had no clue if that was true, but she went with it. It was a better response than, “My father is a dragon shifter who has gone who the hell knows where to conduct strange and potentially dangerous business and can’t talk to his daughter because he fears putting her in danger.”
Stacy remembered the locket she’d left on her dresser at home and wished she had worn it. Maybe with that, I would have had more luck today.
“Don’t worry about it being too much, Stacy. You know the saying. When it rains, it pours,” Ethan assured her, his voice warm. “I’m here for you to talk to any time you need it.” He shrugged. “Besides, it’s good to hear about other people’s problems for once.”
Stacy remembered how lonely Ethan got operating a bookstore so few could see, let alone shop in. His family was gone, and most of his friends lived outside the city. His only constant companion was a tabby cat who lived in the apartment over his shop.
Ethan leaned over the bar, his expression thoughtful. “Stacy, have you considered what you’re facing now might be beyond the ordinary? Perhaps even supernatural?”
She’d thought of it briefly but had no idea how that was possible. Maybe Ethan did. “What do you mean?”
Ethan waved a hand at their general surroundings. “There might be supernatural interference going on. Something messing with the energy that normally surrounds you, making less-than-ideal things happen.”
The cold condensation of the beer bottle soothed the heat of Stacy’s palm. “Is that a thing?” She thought back to the unexplainable events in the courtroom. “That sounds impossible.”
Ethan chuckled. “I’m sure when you found out you were a witch, you thought that was impossible, too, right?”
He had a point. The dragon part is far more unbelievable, Stacy thought. That was another thing she hadn’t told him yet.
“I’ve had plenty of experiences with interfering supernatural energies,” Ethan went on. “Sometimes, it’s intentional. People casting spells, scrying, and doing other things to disrupt the raw magical energy around someone else. Other times, it’s simply an imbalance within a person.”
“Could it be both?” Stacy asked.
“I don’t see why not.” Ethan’s voice dropped to a low murmur despite the muffling spell. “You’d be surprised at what exists directly beyond our sight.”
Stacy frowned. “I thought because we have magic, we could sense and see anybody else who does.”
“Normally, yes, that would be the case. However, there are ways to hide your magic from others. Complicated spell work is usually involved, so those who do it are quite adept.”
“So, more experienced than me,” Stacy dubiously responded.
“Hey, you’ll learn.” Ethan’s small smile and the bump of his elbow against hers elicited a better reaction.
“You’re right, and I’m spending too much time worrying about things I don’t have control over.”
“That’s the word. Control. You want all of it.”
“Don’t we all?”
“Sure, we’re only human.”
Stacy’s eyes sparkled. “You and I are a little more than human.”
“Which makes it harder. We know what it’s like to have control over something most people don’t,” Ethan pointed out. “So, when things don’t go our way, we feel worse.”
Stacy sighed. “Great.” She paused to drink again, then asked, “How do you know so much about the supernatural world? It can’t only be all those books you read.”
“Books, firsthand experience, and the stories my grandparents used to tell me,” Ethan replied. “They taught me a lot. They showed me where to look and how to see what even people like us normally don’t catch.”
Stacy had known Ethan was observant since meeting him, but now she wondered if his observance went deeper than she realized. It wasn’t mere intuition or the ability to see everything in a room when entering it. His magic allowed him to pick out patterns and discern their meaning. He could more easily predict things that would happen. She was half inclined to give him her case to go over and see if he could help but decided not to bother him with it.
“I’ll admit that even though I’ve used magic before, I’m still getting used to the whole supernatural world,” Stacy commented at last, breaking the comfortable silence they had fallen into.
“It will take some time,” Ethan assured her. “Don’t rush yourself.”
Stacy considered how supernatural interference might have occurred as part of Lenny’s plot against her. When she’d gone into his office two months ago, she’d tested for signs of magic and found none, which told her he was not a magic-using person. How could he be doing it, then? Who else would be messing with her if not him? Was it only an imbalance within herself?
Stacy finished her beer, then asked, “How would I find out who might be interfering with my magic?”
“Think about who you see a lot,” Ethan suggested. “And, of course, who might have something against you. You never know. It might surprise you to learn who secretly resents you.”
Stacy grinned and bumped his elbow. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
He laughed. “That would make things simple, wouldn’t it?”
Stacy sobered again. Ethan was onto something, but she had to figure out how to learn more. She was determined to find time to fix this between everything else she was doing.
“Another drink?” Ethan asked.
Stacy smiled. “Yes, please.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“The songs and stories and histories call the broken cities the haunts of dragons, but those great beasts never wanted the cities broken. They sought to save, yet the humans would not surrender. They continued to draw swords and blood, to destroy their brothers in the streets. No one could save them.”
—Excerpt from a letter by the unknown writer of The Dragon Codex History
By the time Ethan and Stacy finished their second drink, the bar had filled up, and Ethan suggested they take a walk and continue their conversation. Stacy agreed, aware that returning to her apartment before she was ready to fall asleep would make her worry about her case far into the night.
The warmth of the alcohol she’d drunk drove away the night chill, and the narrow space on the sidewalk meant she and Ethan walked close enough together for their arms to brush. Finally, the rigid posture she’d held since walking into court that morning slackened, and she felt relaxed. She couldn’t help the unforced, sincere laughter Ethan brought out. She teased him as they turned down a street toward a row of stores. “You’re lucky I walked into your shop that day. You’d never get out of the house if not for me.”
Ethan’s hands were deep in his pockets, but he objected with a nudge of his elbow into her ribs. “You act like I’m an old hermit. I have lots of friends!”
“The stray neighborhood cats don’t count, Ethan.”
He glowered. “You’re not one of those people who says they’re not a cat person because they had one negative experience as a child, are you?”
“What if I am?”
Ethan shook his head. “Cats are a good lesson in boundaries. Maybe you need one.”
Stacy’s laugh punctuated the night air. She hadn’t been this transformed around her friends in weeks. She wondered if Ethan’s soft, gentle aura had an effect on her.
She sobered at the thought. “I’ve felt isolated in this magic thing until tonight,” she confessed.
“But your dad knows, right?”
Stacy nodded. “He’s been wielding magic a lot longer than me, though, and sometimes he doesn’t realize what it’s like to be new to this. It’s all he’s ever known, so he doesn’t know what it’s like to live normally.”
Ethan nodded. “I know what you mean. My magic came to me when I was young, but the other kids with magic my grandparents introduced me to had better natural instincts than me. I always felt behind.”
Stacy blew out a breath. “Then you know how I feel now.” She nudged him as they continued down the street, the warm glow of stores, bars, and restaurants flooding out to greet them. “You could be a real kindred spirit, you know?”
He arched a brow. “Like the Anne of Green Gables kindred spirit?”
She laughed. “I thought you only read magical books.”
“Fiction is its own kind of magic.” He paused. “Something about you makes me feel…well, less alone. And it’s not because I’ve finally met someone with magic who’s worse at it than I am.”
