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causing the bugbear to go lumbering after it. Suitcases trailed behind him, many of them coming open. All were empty.

With a cry of frustration, Gretchen replaced the hat again and strengthened the enchantment she’d been using to control the fae creature. He stopped and knelt, recovering the luggage like a proper gentleman. But it was too late. Bree-yark was snorting laughter, and I was doing my best not to join him.

Gretchen wheeled on us, eyes wide. I feared the worst, but more mortified than outraged, she snapped her fingers and, in twin flashes, disappeared along with her bugbear prop. She didn’t even bother with the luggage.

“I suspect that will be the end of that,” I said.

“I don’t know what just happened,” Mae remarked, wiping her hands off and turning to Bree-yark, “but one thing’s become clear. Either you’re not ready to make an honest woman of me, or you’re too scared to ask. So I’m going to make this as easy as possible. Yes. Now all you have to do is supply the question.”

Bree-yark looked over at me, eyes bright with panic.

I nodded fervently and made a bandage-ripping gesture across my arm.

He turned back to her. “Will you m-marry me?” he stammered.

Laughing, she shook his ear and kissed his cheek. “I just told you.”

Bree-yark released a surprised chortle, the brightness in his eyes softening to a diffuse in-love-ness. Standing, he bowed low before Mae, then helped her to her feet, in full control of himself once more.

“If you’ll excuse us,” he said, “my fiancée and I are going to take a walk. We have a future to discuss.”

“Congratulations, you two,” Vega called.

“I think he’ll forgive us,” I decided, as he escorted her away.

Vega was agreeing when my phone vibrated. It was a text from Trevor of the Sup Squad.

I know we’re done with the Sven business but I got a message from the tech who was working on his facial recognition match. Nothing came up, but he got a few close hits based on morphology. Thought I’d send one along. Congrats on cracking the triple homicide. Hope to work with you again soon.

An image was uploading, but it was going to take a few minutes on my primitive device.

There hadn’t been any matches because Sven had never existed here, something I’d yet to explain to Trevor. I was snapping the phone closed when a prickling rush of magic told me someone was watching. Off to the right, I spotted a shadowy figure hanging out near the edge of the trees.

“Well, speak of the devil.”

“Is that Sven?” Vega asked.

“Yeah, I left him a message at our spot telling him we’d be here.” I waved him over, but he shook his head and waved for me to come to him instead.

“He’s not still afraid of me, is he?” she asked.

I’d finally told Vega about encountering her shadow, how she’d tried to apprehend me for the murders and discharged her weapon at Sven. She’d only asked a couple questions before dropping it. She said she needed to get used to the idea of a living, breathing version of herself existing elsewhere. I didn’t mention her shadow’s marital status. Probably because I would never get used to that.

“No, I think this is something else,” I said. “Will you be all right for a couple minutes?”

“I will if you drag Mae’s basket over here.” She patted her belly. “We’re ready for seconds.”

I did as she asked, kissed her, and was about to join Sven when I remembered something I’d been meaning to ask.

“Oh, hey, what did Larry and his wife get us for our wedding?”

“The private box for the Mets game on Memorial Day,” she said. “Why?”

I snapped my fingers. Damn. “Because I told him we’d used their gift ‘a few times.’”

Vega shook her head as I left and jogged over to where Sven was waiting. Despite the warm weather, he was wearing gray jeans and a long-sleeve hoodie shirt, the straps of his pack hugging his narrow shoulders.

“Hey, buddy,” I said as I arrived in front of him. “I was wondering when I’d see you again. Why don’t you join us?”

“Nah, I’m good.” But he was blinking his dark eyes nervously. “I promised I’d tell you my real name when this was over.”

“Okay.”

“It’s Alec DeFazio, and I’m actually fifteen.”

“I guessed the fifteen part, but it’s good to meet you, Alec DeFazio.”

I shook his hand, then hesitated. DeFazio. I knew that name.

In a flash, I was back at Gowdie’s Antique Store, the hag sisters circling me as they rattled off my failed relationships. Jennifer DeFazio had been one of them, a girl I’d dated in college before she decided I wasn’t exciting enough.

My flip phone hummed, alerting me that the image of the close match had finished uploading. I opened it to find my faculty photo staring back at me.

I raised my stunned eyes to Alec.

“I’m your son,” he said.

The Doideag’s Prophecy

The cauldron speaks with foreign tongue

Of ancient wars and songs unsung.

Can a children’s love restore lost time?

Can the fleet of foot avert the crime?

Beware the shadow of many faces,

But fear the master of many places.

If ye should fail and war should come,

If seas should boil and lands should run,

Allies gather, eleven and one,

And be not afraid of thine own blood.

Wage, young mage, till your final breath,

And come night’s fall, accept your death.

Available Now!

There’s more Prof Croft coming. In the meantime, meet his good friend…

Blue Curse

(Blue Wolf, Book 1)

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Author’s Notes

If you saw that final moment coming, I salute you, because I sure didn’t. At least not when I first sat

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