Night of the Dark Horse (An Allegra Fairweather Mystery) by Janni Nell

Author:Janni Nell [Nell, Janni]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press

Chapter Eight

I’d been awake since dawn. Mostly watching Casper sleep. It was a shock every time I noticed how pale and drawn his face had become.

Around seven o’clock I got restless and climbed out of bed. After swapping my pajamas for jeans and a T-shirt, I watched the sun climb the pale blue sky. Soaking up the rays through the east window, I stretched and loosened my muscles. Behind me Casper sighed. I turned.

He was awake, watching me, his weight supported on one elbow. The covers pooled around his waist. His bed-hair stuck out at all angles. I wanted to hug him.

“Thinking about the case?” he asked.

“Always.” Even when those thoughts weren’t exactly conscious. “Dermot told me Levara is the name of the Fae royal family. It can’t be used by commoners. Ever. Who knew?”

“How does that impact the case?”

“Not sure yet. But we know the body in the grave is Fae, and that being buried in our world means she was banished. What we don’t know is why. Dermot likes the idea of murder, but I’m not so sure.”

“Murder is the most serious crime in most cultures,” he agreed. “But how important is that information to your case? Does it matter why she was banished? You were hired to stop the pooka, not solve a murder mystery.”

“At first I thought the key to stopping him was discovering his identity. I was convinced he was Liam. Last night I proved that wasn’t true. Obviously discovering the pooka’s identity is still important, but that alone won’t stop him. Last night, when I looked in his eyes I saw a scared kid. His mom is dead. Where is his dad? That’s the key. Reuniting the pooka and his father is the way forward.”

“Pookas are crude-fairies like leprechauns and elves,” mused Casper. “As a member of the royal family, Sharina would have been pureblood.”

“That’s right. And if a pureblood Fae mates with another pureblood they’ll always produce a pureblood child. No exceptions. But to produce a crude-fairy child like the pooka, Sharina must’ve had an affair with a human or a crude-fairy. Not Dermot, obviously, but...” The name Padraig O’Shaunnessy sprang to mind. Maybe Sharina had a thing for green smoke.

“Got a date with a leprechaun.” I grabbed the car keys in one hand and my shoes in the other. When Casper started to get out of bed, I said, “Stay where you are. I won’t be long.”

Leprechauns are territorial. Once they put down roots in a place, they rarely move on. Lucky for me. I found Padraig by a combination of itching toe and the smell of his pipe.

He was humming to himself as he hammered tiny nails into the sole of a shoe that appeared to be made of glass. Impossible, since the nails would’ve broken it in a second. It must have been some kind of whizz-bang plastic the Fae had patented. The mate of the shoe he was hammering was perched on a flat-topped rock near his workbench. He

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