LITMIR.BIZ

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had met her when Regina had agreed to play a minor role in a fantasy movie being filmed at a small studio run by one of Alessande’s friends. That was a negative about being Elven, at least in Alessande’s mind. Many in the Elven community flocked to L.A. because they had excellent prospects for success in the movies. Elven tended to be blond, blue-eyed, statuesque and filled with a natural charm that the camera seemed to love. Elven who didn’t work in the movies tended to work on them.

      “All right, yes, I did—do—want to save her. But that’s simply part of it. Okay, most of it,” Alessande said in a rush. “But it’s not only Regina. She was just the last to disappear, so there’s still hope for her. And I feel so bad for her. Growing up, she didn’t even know that she was Elven, didn’t know that there was a whole community of Others just like her, that she was normal…and she comes here, settles in, starts to work—and disappears.”

      “You felt bad for an orphan because you were orphaned, weren’t you?” Sailor said.

      “Yes,” Alessande admitted. Her situation hadn’t been quite as bad. She had never known her own father, but she had a brother two years younger from her mother’s second marriage; his father and their mother had been with them until dying in an accident when Alessande was seven and Conner five. After that they had been adopted by Elven parents and had grown up in a family where they were loved and understood. That had been back in Northern Scotland, many years ago. Her brother was still dear to her, but he’d remained behind in the Old World when she’d left in the middle of World War II, unable to stay behind after the love of her life had been killed during the invasion of Normandy. She loved her brother dearly, and one of them traveled back and forth every few years to visit. Her adoptive parents were still overseas as well, having chosen to retire to Cork, in Ireland. She saw them as often as she could.

      Regina had not had the benefit of a brother or loving adoptive parents. She’d thought there was something seriously wrong with her for most of her life. Alessande had met her soon after she’d discovered what she was and had wanted to make the world right for her.

      Then…

      Then she’d been kidnapped—right when being kidnapped seemed to mean showing up dead just a few weeks later.

      “The point is,” Alessande said, “Regina was the third young woman to disappear—and the other two were apparently held somewhere for weeks before they were dumped.”

      “We all understand trying to save a friend,” Barrie said. She walked over to the sofa in front of the fire and took a seat, looking around Castle House as if she were assessing it—as if she’d never been in it before. Like the guest cottages, Castle House was eclectic, filled with old charm and curios.

      The houses seemed to suit the unique personalities of the three women. Castle House boasted carved-wood details, and Alessande loved it. Her own cabin was built of wood, which was always comforting to her, and from it, she drew her strength.

      Barrie was apparently trying to figure out where to start. A reporter, she was up on the news almost as it happened. “It’s true,” she said now, looking over at Rhiannon. “Leesa Adair disappeared six weeks ago. Her body was found two weeks later and—” she paused, wincing “—and the medical examiner said that she’d only been dead a day or two. Judith Belgrave disappeared four weeks ago, and her body was found just two days ago. Whoever is kidnapping these women is holding them for weeks before they wind up dead.”

      Rhiannon had taken a seat on one of the overstuffed armchairs by the sofa, and now she looked from Alessande to Barrie. “But though they bled out, they were not truly drained. If a vampire were behind this, I guarantee you—a rogue vampire wouldn’t waste a murder. Those girls would have not had one drop in their bodies.”

      Alessande winced. “I hate to say this, but usually when something involves magic and illusion—like this Sebastian Hildegard cult—shapeshifters are involved.”

      “Naturally I’ve thought about that,” Barrie said quietly.

      “Let’s back up a minute,” Rhiannon said, turning to Alessande. “Exactly how did you almost become a sacrifice to Sebastian Hildegard? Brodie and Mark were out at the cemetery earlier because an anonymous tipster had called and said that they suspected a ‘cult meeting with murderous intent’ would occur there at midnight. But what made you think that the cult was connected to the dead women and Regina’s disappearance?”

      “And how on earth did you arrange to get yourself taken?” Sailor demanded.

      “And why, if they were holding the other women before killing them, did they decide to sacrifice you so quickly?” Barrie asked.

      Alessande looked from one cousin to another.

      “I read the news stories about the other women who were kidnapped and traced their routes—and I knew where Regina had gone the day she disappeared,” Alessande explained. “She had just gotten a job at the House of Illusion when—”

      Sailor interrupted her with a tone of anger and impatience. “There’s been trouble there before,” she said. “But you know I work there, right?”

      “Yes, I know that,” Alessande said.

      “Between waitressing and performing there, I would have known if the House of Illusion was the last place those women were seen,” Sailor said.

      “It wasn’t the last place they were seen,” Alessande continued. “But both dead women and Regina were there within two days of their disappearances. Nearby is an old studio—”

      “I know it!” Sailor said, her voice growing anxious. “It was owned by the Hildegard family. It closed down thirty years ago and the land has been the center of a legal dispute between the city and the heirs for years now.”

      “I know,” Alessande said.

      “That studio is surrounded by a seven-foot wall,” Rhiannon said.

      “And it’s right by a coffee shop and a gas station and a convenience store,” Alessande pointed out. “Regina called me the afternoon she disappeared. She was going to stop to get gas on her way home from the House of Illusion. And both of the other women had bought gas the day they went missing, too. Their cars were found with the tanks full.”

      “How do you know that?” Sailor asked her.

      “I went by the police impound,” Alessande said.

      “And they just told you that?” Rhiannon asked.

      “You found an officer, flirted with him—and read his mind, didn’t you?” Barrie said.

      Alessande flushed; as long as the Elven could get a person to look them straight in the eyes, yes. Teleporting and mind reading were their talents. It had been an easy matter for Alessande to learn everything she had wanted to know from the officer who had been on duty at the impound. He had been human—and blithely unaware of the Others around him.

      “I didn’t do anything illegal,” Alessande said.

      “I’m just annoyed that I didn’t think of it,” Barrie said.

      “Okay, so let’s get this in order,” Rhiannon said. “You investigated at the House of Illusion—”

      “Not really. I just watched the news reports and read their coverage. Leesa’s boyfriend said she’d gone there with friends, and Judith’s mother mentioned in an interview that her daughter had been there, too. Regina called me from the parking lot to say she’d gotten the job and was going to stop for gas on her way home…so I went to the House of Illusion, and looked around, saw the gas station and figured it made sense that they’d all filled up there. And with the old studio right next door, it just seemed logical there was a connection.”

      “And it didn’t occur to you to call the police?” Rhiannon asked.

      Alessande smiled. “If I’d called the police, they would have made some big-deal search, and everyone would have disappeared before

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