But maybe it was a different kind of power that impressed the Carlisle women. The kind that was infernal in origin. If only she knew.
Lucien turned in a slow arc to follow the horseman with his scope. Leo Ström’s origins were what concerned him right now. How had he come to be the leader of the Wild Hunt? And what was the Hunt doing appearing on a lovely spring evening in Sedona, Arizona? Traditionally, it was said to appear around the winter solstice and was better suited to snowier climes.
They’d scented someone now, it seemed, and even from this distance, Lucien thought he heard their victory hoots as the phantom storm that followed them swallowed up their victim and they disappeared into the night, leaving it calm and warm.
He’d have to find out more about this Leo Ström. The man was involved with Theia’s twin, Rhea, which could mean anything in terms of unnatural origin. It might even be Rhea’s own magic animating him. It was unlikely she’d created the revenant herself, since the long dead were nearly impossible to give a convincing living appearance to, no matter how much magic the practitioner had. So perhaps she’d taken possession of a revenant created by some other unnatural power. And Lucien just happened to have access to information on any of a number of unnatural powers.
He stashed his gear and changed into something more appropriate. People might talk if he showed up at Polly’s dressed like a cat burglar.
* * *
Polly was entertaining in her booth when Lucien walked in. Aware of her out of the corner of his eye, he made a point of not glancing in her direction, knowing it would drive her crazy. His ploy worked, and in less than five minutes, she’d ditched her patrons and sauntered over to the bar where he stood waiting for his drink.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” She lifted her drawn-on nearly crimson brows with a little smirk as she leaned back against the bar beside him and raised her voice for the bartender’s benefit. “Whatever he’s having, it’s on the house.”
Lucien put down a twenty as the craft beer arrived. “That’s sweet, but I’ve got it covered.”
Polly pushed the bill across the slick wood toward the bartender. “That’s a tip.”
Lucien sipped his beer. “You’re such a control freak.”
“I like to treat my friends well.”
“Oh, we’re friends now?” Lucien turned to mimic her stance, elbows back against the bar.
Polly flipped her cherry-red hair over her shoulder, nails painted a dazzling sapphire blue. “Well, maybe frenemies.”
“Seems fair.”
“So what brings you back to my neck of the woods?”
“Edgar does.” He always used his father’s first name, never calling him Dad or Pop. “Smok Biotech is partnering with Northern Arizona University on a new venture. He sent me to supervise.”
“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing in Sedona. NAU is in Flagstaff.”
“I know where it is.” Lucien took a swig of his beer. “Went to a wedding.”
Polly’s eyes sparkled with interest. “The Diamante wedding? Lucky you. Those invitations were highly coveted.”
Lucien shrugged. “I didn’t say I was invited.”
Polly laughed. “Of course you weren’t. So you crashed the quetzal’s wedding and now you’re slumming at my joint. Who are you after?”
“Who says I’m after anyone?”
Crimson waves swayed as she shook her head. “Darling, don’t grift a grifter.”
He finished his beer and set the bottle on the bar. “What do you know about the Wild Hunt?”
Polly pushed away from the bar and grabbed his hand, drawing him with her through the jostling patrons trying to get the bartender’s attention. The joint was hopping tonight.
She led him to her booth, where the patrons she’d ditched were still waiting. “Meeting’s over, boys. I’ll get back to you when I hear anything.”
The two pale twentysomething men with slicked-back blond hair shrugged and scooted out of the booth.
One of them frowned and hung back as she slid onto the seat. “Don’t make us wait too long. The consequences may be dire.”
“Stop being so dramatic, Kip.”
Lucien sat on the bench. “Kip?”
Polly grinned. “Preppy vampires turned in the ’80s. Eternally embarrassing.” She gestured to one of her staff, presumably ordering a bottle of something. “So why do you want to know about the Hunt?
“Because I saw it tonight. And unless I’ve been doing way too much molly, it’s May, not December.”
“You saw it?”
“Why does that surprise you?”
The woman she’d signaled arrived with a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass, despite Lucien shaking his head.
“Generally, only someone who’s a target of the Hunt is treated to that sight.” Polly sipped her wine with a curious lift of her brow. “Have you been very naughty, Lucien?”
“No naughtier than usual. Why is the Hunt still in town at this time of year?”
“What makes you think I’d know?”
Lucien played with the rim of his glass. “Pols. You make it your business to know everything of interest—everything paranormal—that happens in the entire Southwest. Information is your business. Are you really going to make me pay for it? After what we’ve meant to each other?”
Polly laughed, her eyes twinkling in the wavering light of the candle on the table. “Don’t push it, Hellboy.”
“Ouch. Below the belt.”
Beneath the table, the pointed toe of her shoe stroked the side of his leg. “Best location.”
He moved his leg, and she uncrossed hers and crossed them the other way.
“But in the interest of our continued frenmity, I’ll tell you what I’ve heard.” She paused to top off her glass. “Last winter, the Hunt blew into town to deal with some riffraff, and the leader of the Hunt struck some kind of a deal that let him remain in the mortal realm indefinitely. Word is, it’s because of—”
“Rhea Carlisle.”
Polly tipped her glass toward him. “The quetzal’s sister-in-law, yes. And today you crashed the quetzal’s wedding. I take it Leo Ström is the reason.”
“One of a couple of reasons.” Lucien swirled the wine in his glass, thinking about Theia’s large eyes. And the way she’d held on to his arms after he’d saved her from choking.
“And would another of those reasons be Rhea Carlisle’s
