The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) Brad Magnarella (ink book reader txt) 📖

Geez, even his name sounded divine.

The fae crossed the remaining distance in three easy strides and offered his hand. He had a good four inches on my six-foot frame, and I had to look up a little to meet his slate-blue eyes. His shake was sturdy and polite but hummed with energy. A small head tilt told me he felt my energy, as well.

Neither of us said anything, as though reaching a silent accord between extraordinary gentlemen.

After another moment the fae being released my hand and turned to Caroline. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“You are, actually,” Caroline said.

“If I could just speak with you for a few minutes.”

“I already told you we had nothing to discuss.”

My gaze moved between them, wondering what in the hell kind of relationship Caroline could have with a full-blooded fae.

“You’ll want to hear what I have to say,” Angelus said, his handsome eyes steady on hers. “It involves your father.”

That seemed to give Caroline pause. She sighed as she turned to face me, her set expression letting out a little. “Would you mind if I stepped inside for just a moment?”

“As long as you’re okay,” I said.

“I’ll be fine. We’re not going far.”

Not wanting to appear the insecure date, I nodded my assent.

She gave my hand a squeeze, then passed through the door Angelus had opened for her, my jacket still over her shoulders. As Angelus closed the door, our eyes met briefly. I could read nothing in his.

He and Caroline took up a position along the rail of the gallery, visible beyond the diaphanous curtains covering the doors. I turned back toward the Park, but kept the two in my peripheral vision. The fae’s distance from Caroline appeared respectful as he began to talk, Caroline facing him with crossed arms.

I was speculating on what they could be discussing—something about her father?—when a series of high-pitched beeps sounded. I looked around in confusion before realizing the sound had come from my pants pocket.

The pager.

I drew it out, its cold-iron case doing the job of protecting its circuitry from my magical aura. (I’d tried the same with a cell phone, but no dice—a lot of smoke, though.) I recognized the number flashing on the display. Detective Vega had been working her superiors in the NYPD to give her first crack at the unusual homicide cases. She had also been holding me to my agreement to act as a consultant.

I looked from the pager to Caroline and back.

“Crap,” I whispered.

I opened the glass doors and poked my head inside. Angelus, who had been saying something about a “fair exchange,” stopped as he and Caroline noticed my presence.

“Sorry,” I said to Caroline. “I just received a page I need to return. Do you know if there’s a telephone around here?”

“You can use mine.” She began to unsnap her small purse.

“No, no, I’ve, ah, never been able to figure those things out,” I stammered, which was to say I didn’t want to explode her thousand-dollar device. “I was thinking of a landline.”

“There’s one in the guest bedroom,” Angelus said. “Through that door.” He aimed his gaze past me, toward the far end of the gallery, and took a half step back, as though my presence were making him uncomfortable. I looked at Caroline, who gave a small nod: I’m all right.

“Okay,” I replied, in a tone I hoped sounded like a warning to Angelus.

I noticed that he waited until I reached the indicated door before he resumed speaking. Though I tried, I couldn’t make out anything said above the steady swell of conversation coming from the lower level.

Caroline’s a tough cookie, I reminded myself.

Yeah, but did she know who she was dealing with? Not everyone was willing, or able, to see the supernatural dimension of the city. And in the years I’d known Caroline, she had never brought it up herself, always hewing to the rational, the mundane. No, I was all but certain Caroline didn’t know who he really was. Furthermore, I was certain this Angelus—if that was even a real name—was deceiving her, something the fae were known for.

I flipped a light switch in the elegant suite and spotted the phone on an antique desk to my right. To reach it, I passed the foot of a sumptuous king bed that reminded me of something else the fae were known for. Seduction.

I left the door open a crack, and then moved the phone to the desk’s end, where I could still see a thin slice of Caroline and Angelus down the gallery.

Consulting my pager, I dialed.

“Vega,” she answered after one ring.

“Are congratulations in order, Detective?” The last time we’d talked, a month earlier, her new role had been far from a sure thing.

She ignored my question, posing her own. “Where are you?”

“At a fancy little gala on the Upper West Side,” I replied, then mumbled, “watching my date being hijacked by a being who shouldn’t exist.” I leaned over to see them better through the door.

“Give me an address and I’ll have someone pick you up.”

“Why?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

“What do you think?”

“Homicide?”

“Plural, and they’re unusual. I need you to take a look.” She wasn’t asking.

I craned my neck until it started to stiffen. Caroline was gesturing in what appeared frustration while Angelus listened with small nods, hands behind his back. I didn’t like the idea of leaving Caroline alone with him, though whether out of concern now or jealousy, I couldn’t say.

“Croft,” Vega snapped.

Through the fuzzy connection, I made out the chatter of a police-radio and the rise and fall of sirens. It sounded serious. I pivoted the phone from my mouth to exhale in frustration, then dug for the slip of paper onto which Caroline had jotted down the address for the gala.

“You ready?” I asked, and read it to her.

4

“You’re leaving?” Caroline asked.

“Yeah, an emergency came up.” I flashed the pager as though offering proof. I glanced over at Angelus, who had stepped back to