Silver at Midnight: A Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy (The Keepers of Knowledge Series Book 5) by Bridgette O'Hare (best large ereader .TXT) 📕

it all flawlessly in place. Let me repeat that for the kids in the back. FLAW-LESS-LY. You get what I’m sayin’ here, Aish?” she paused. “It’s a legend. He’s staged. And whoever set it up is not just good, they’re better than Lazlo good. At least, that’s what Lazlo said.”

“Lazlo admitted that?” I raised an eyebrow, a little more than shocked.

“Yup. Have you ever known him to concede on anything?”

“I have not.”

“You should have seen the anguish in his eyes when he admitted that he didn’t catch it at first. He looked equally defeated and impressed. I’m pretty sure he’s still sitting at his desk picking up the digital breadcrumbs trying to uncover his competition.”

Lazlo was the Natra Agency’s top Validator. When you wanted to create a digital footprint for an undercover alias, a legend, Lazlo was the go-to guy. He was the best in his field across all racial boundaries, supernatural and human alike. At least, he was. Looked like he might have a rival.

I processed this new information along with what I had assessed during my time with Cian at the Black Cat Café.

“So, tell me something. You said in text that you couldn’t read him. Like . . . at all?” Kara asked. “Did anything change? Was it just a short-lived fluke?”

“Afraid not.”

“So, you have no idea if he’s a vamp or shifter or what. Has that ever happened before?”

I thought for a moment, then responded. “Not that I recall. At least, not since I first started developing my gifts. So, maybe when I was eleven or so?” I couldn’t get into full detail and tell her there was more, that I couldn’t get a read on the light or dark factor within his soul either. Only Grams and Mom had known about all of my abilities. They insisted it was for my own safety. They were right, of course.

“Okay, let’s think this through. We know there’s no way he works for us,” I stated the obvious. “So . . . who would he work for?”

“Hell if I know,” Kara groaned. “If there’s another supernatural team in the game, that information is above my pay grade. And you and I both know my pay grade is pretty high.”

“There’s always the possibility he’s a free agent,” I noted.

“Yeah. But I don’t like the sound of that. Free agents can be bought, and that means we will never be able to predict which side he’s on. What made you ask me to look into him anyway?”

She finally asked the question I had been expecting since the beginning of the conversation. I hemmed a little and she called me on it.

“You’re stalling. Ahh crap. I’m not going to be happy about this, am I?” she stated.

“Umm . . . no. Can’t say ya are.”

“Well, rip the band aid. Let’s get this over with,” she demanded.

“There’s a lot I have t’ fill you in on. Starting with why I came straight t’ Pyreshore instead of New York. Ya might wanna get a drink,” I suggested.

She did and I proceeded to give her the info about Libby’s meet and greet with the hot guy outside my flat, the delivered invitation I had received to meet someone in the cemetery before I left Dublin—someone I assumed had been Cian, and then my encounter with the note-passing Pixie Witch.

“So . . . you’ve been a little busy,” she chimed nonchalantly and shrugged like it was no big deal. Her reaction was a ruse. As soon as she’d finished the gesture, she stopped and stared hard at me, clearly irritated. “Seriously, Aisling! That’s right, I used your whole name. What were you thinking not telling me what was going on so I could at least try to assist? Like track down who sent the spelled invite or something.”

I knew she was right, in a way, but I hadn’t felt like I had much time. “I am sorry. I am. But it all happened fast. And you know what it’s like. When your gut says it’s time t’ bug out, you just go. Answer questions later.”

Kara nodded. “I do understand. And I do have questions. Two of them.”

“Go.”

“What did the note that Pixie Witch gave you say? And ya still haven’t told me why ya had me do a full run-down on Mr. McCallister tonight.”

“Do me a favor, before I explain,” I requested. “Refill your wine.”

She glared at me, rolled her eyes, and poured as much wine as her glass would hold. Then she took a deep swig and blew out a breath. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”

“I’m pretty sure Cian is the one Libby met at my apartment, which means he’s likely the one that invited me to the cemetery and instructed Pixie Witch to give me the note. Also—”

“That’s not all?” Kara interrupted.

I shook my head.

She downed half of the ruby liquid in her glass. “Geez. Go on.”

“Cian wants me to join forces with him to take down The Saiad.”

Kara almost choked.

“You okay?” I asked.

“He WHAT!?” she came forward in the chair she was sitting in.

I didn’t say anything. I knew to give her a moment to sort it all out.

“How? I mean—” Kara fell back against the chair again and looked around for a minute. “Aish, if he knows about The Saiad, I feel like there’s a lot more going on here than we are aware of.”

“I know. Tons more.”

“I need to process this. Umm. Okay. So, the letter. Pixie Witch. What did that say?” she asked. Her brain was now in full-blown assignment mode. I’d seen it many times. She wanted all the info so she could arrange it and rearrange it on her mental evidence board (aka crazy wall).

I held up one finger. “Hold please.” I hopped off the bed and headed over to the jeans I had taken off and tossed over a chair before that glorious shower. I slipped the note out of a pocket and headed back to my position. Once I was back in front of the phone