Demon's Delight: A Bewitching Bedlam Novella by Yasmine Galenorn

Author:Yasmine Galenorn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nightqueen Enterprises LLC

Chapter Eight

We gathered in Sandy’s parlor, where Max had built a huge fire in the massive stone fireplace. Double-sided, the fireplace divided the dining room from the parlor. Aegis handed out wine, except for Delia, who shook her head. As the smooth flavors of raspberry and cinnamon trickled down my throat, I leaned back, trying to relax.

Sandy told Delia everything that had happened, and what Leroy had said. “I know the cops always say that kids just wander off, but Jenna’s not that kind of girl.”

Delia held up her hand. “Don’t protest. I’m not going to blow this off. I know what kind of girl Jenna is, and I can’t see her running away, or just ditching school and not checking in later with friends. Do you know what was on her mind?”

“No.” Sandy shook her head. “Jenna’s been a little rebellious lately, that I will say. She’s entering that stage that all teenagers go through where they don’t want their parents to know everything. I think if I were still just her guardian and not her adoptive mother now, she might have talked to me more. But that dynamic has changed.”

“I’ll put out an APB on her. Derek can call out the Majestic Mountain Squad. He’ll scramble everyone and get them looking for her. I’ll also send someone down to the ferry landing to see if she took the ferry. They usually don’t let kids go alone without a permission slip from their parents.”

She paused and cleared her throat. “I have to tell you, something is happening in this town. The past couple days have been incredibly violent.”

“Was there another fight?” I asked.

Delia nodded. “Not only was there a fight, but this time someone died.”

I stared at her. “You’re kidding. Anybody we know?”

“I don’t know if you knew him. His name was Forrest and he was a member of the Summer Fae. He didn’t hang around downtown much, mostly near Cliffside Park.”

I shook my head. The name didn’t ring a bell. “What happened? I don’t think I’ve met him.”

“What happened is old man Tucker, who runs a stall at the Winter Carnival, beat him to death with a tire iron when Forrest tried to steal one of his handmade recorders.” Delia looked shell-shocked.

Aegis let out a slow whistle. “He beat him to death over a recorder? Was it made of gold?”

Delia shook her head. “I know. It seems insane, doesn’t it? To kill someone over a twenty-dollar musical instrument? That’s ridiculous.”

“Did he say why he did it? And even more important, have you caught him yet?” I asked.

“Oh, he admitted to it. Tucker also says he doesn’t know why he did it. He said when Forrest picked one of his recorders and started to walk away with it, he saw red and just went postal on him. The closest thing he could grab as a weapon was a tire iron that he’d been meaning to lend to a friend who needed to pry open a trunk. We’ve grilled him, but he’s sticking to his story.

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