Chapter 10 - Earthly Gods

Julian Anderson was vertical, which was great news.

The first day after waking up from his herb-induced slumber had been a rough one. He had been shaking off the last of the silver, which kept him in a feverish state for most of the day. He'd been sweaty, shivering, and groaning. The burning pain had mostly passed, but he was achy and bedridden, as moving too much still hurt him.

Fortunately, as the day passed, the effects of the silver poisoning lessened, and by dinner time, the silver was fully out of his system. Which meant, at long last, his werewolf healing kicked in. Within a couple hours, he was one hundred percent again, feeling like he could take on a whole werewolf pack. Metaphorically speaking, of course, the thought of having to actually take on a whole werewolf pack still made him wary. He wasn't the only one, either, Ellen had spent the entire day with him, stubbornly refusing to leave his side.

He appreciated the gesture, even if Ellen's noble sacrifice really just meant her watching something on his TV all day long and shouting angrily at various characters. If the werewolf pack had tried something, her presence there might have saved his life, so he couldn't be too upset, despite the constant reminders he had a headache. Inara had been gone when he woke up, but he knew she had the shop to get back to, so he wasn't too bothered by her vanishing.

Whatever djinn dream magic thing she'd done to him had worked, as he'd woken up from one of the best nights of sleep he'd ever had. He woke up happy, which was decidedly not normal. Especially after the day he'd had. He couldn't remember any dreams specifically, but he could definitely tell the difference that her dream magic had caused. It was a nice thing to experience at least once.

As for the whole mess with Alexandra Blackwood, Julian had heard nothing. He'd reached out to Corinne and Colin both, but neither answered their phone. If their Highsire was after Julian for something he'd done, he could definitely understand the radio silence, but the problem was that Julian had no idea what he'd done that might warrant Alexandra looking for him.

Ellen had been uncertain about leaving him alone that night, but Julian was back in top form, and he assured her there was nothing to worry about. He'd been right, thankfully, but he had been a bit jumpier than usual that night. He slept lightly, but when he woke up, he found a letter sitting on his kitchen counter. It was on thick, elegant paper, and when Julian flipped it over, he froze. Written in scarlet ink were the words 'Julian Anderson'.

"What the fuck?" Julian muttered, looking around his apartment. Nothing looked disturbed, there was no sign of a break-in... so how the fuck had a letter just appeared on his counter? Swallowing hard, Julian broke the seal, which was a thick circle of red wax with an emblem of a star surrounded by thornbushes.

{letter signed "Alexandra Blackwood"}

Detective Anderson,

It is poor form to avoid someone seeking your aid.

Quite fortunate for you, however, I heard about how the flea-ridden curs I enlisted to find you treated you. I assure you, kidnapping was nowhere in my request, and I have disciplined the dogs properly. I merely need a favor, and I am aware this will increase my debt to you, but it cannot be helped. I have heard from the lovely Corinne Parker about your unparalleled detective work when it comes to crimes of a supernatural nature.

A grievous crime has occurred, and due to my allergy to sunlight, I am unable to pursue this lead myself, nor can I task any of my underlings, as they share my allergy. As you may have guessed, I have walked the Earth for centuries, and in these centuries, very rarely did I find any I truly named a friend. The number of friends I have on this Earth has very recently dropped by one, and I am enlisting you to figure out who is to blame for this.

I have enclosed a photograph of my recently deceased friend for your perusal, but I must tell you a little about her as well. Her name is Niamh Sinclair, and she is aos sídhe. I am unaware of your historical knowledge, but the modern day races of fey are descended from her people. She was considerably ancient, more so even than I, and her death will leave a dark scar on our city.

Detective Anderson, if you deliver to me the individual or individuals responsible for the killing of Niamh Sinclair, I will owe you much more than a mere favor.

If you are concerned about the sudden appearance of this letter, you have my apologies. I do hope the messenger I sent did not disturb you, she was specifically instructed not to.

{endletter}

Julian dropped down into one of the chairs at his dining room table, exhaling heavily. This was a hell of an ask, not half because anything that could bring down someone so old and presumably powerful wasn't exactly something Julian wanted to tussle with. That said... investigating the murder of an ancient and powerful supernatural woman was right up Julian's alley. He didn't typically look into murders for people, but there was no reason he couldn't start now.

Especially if Alexandra had dealt with that werewolf pack already. Sure, she was the reason they kidnapped him in the first place, but it sounded like that had been their call, not Alexandra's. Julian fidgeted with the corner of the letter as he contemplated, before getting up and walking back into his bedroom. He picked up his phone and dialed a number he didn't call all that often.

"Detective?" a familiar voice asked, sounding confused.

"Sergeant Rhodes." Julian greeted. "Have you heard of a Niamh Sinclair?"

"I... have, how have you?" Sergeant Rhodes asked after a moment. "I only just got her case file on my desk."

The LAPD was already working the case? Even easier.

"Excellent. Send me the address, I'll make my way there immediately." Julian said firmly.

"Uh, I was going to give this one to Detective Holt and Detective MacCarthy." Rhodes replied uncertainly. "Detective Richards said you were having some health problems."

"Clean bill of health, Rhodes. Just give me the address, please?" Julian asked with a sigh.

"Fine, fine." Rhodes said.

"Oh, and... don't tell Abigail what I'm up to." Julian said as an afterthought.

"Seriously?" Rhodes asked incredulously.

"Seriously."

"Pssh, your funeral, Detective. I'll send it over right now."

"Thanks, Rhodes. You're the best. I'll bring you a donut when I'm in the precinct next." Julian grinned, and he hung up the phone. He pulled off all of the herbal poultices Ellen had prepped for him two days ago, and he hopped in the shower. By time he got out, brushed his teeth, and got dressed, Rhodes had sent over the address.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was in Beverly Hills. Julian hadn't expected an ancient, immortal supernatural being to live somewhere that wasn't ridiculously luxurious. As Julian walked out of his apartment and jogged down the steps of his apartment building, he decided to do a quick google search on aos sídhe. That wasn't a term he knew anything about, and while the human internet wasn't always accurate, it was nice to at least have a general idea about what he was walking into.

A quick glance at Google painted the aos sídhe as protectors of portals to the Land of the Young, the home plane of the fey. The internet treated all of this as fiction, of course, but to Julian it was interesting. If these aos sídhe were protectors of some kind, the death of one could definitely be a sign of some bad shit coming to Los Angeles. When he reached the second story landing, Julian nodded a hello at Mrs. Morton, who nodded back at him.

"Looking much better now, huh?" the old woman grinned at him, and Julian grinned back.

"Feeling like it, too." Julian shrugged.

"I'm glad for it. You looked like shit, your girlfriend was right." Mrs. Morton winked.

"Who- Inara? Definitely not my girlfriend." Julian assured the old woman, who just laughed. Shaking his head, Julian continued down the steps.

———

When Julian pulled up to the address Rhodes had given him, he was surprised to see a throng of paparazzi trying to steal photos of the house and whatever lay inside. Julian approached the crime scene, but he had to muscle through a bunch of overeager photographers all trying to shove each other out of the way to get the perfect photo.

"Detective Anderson." Julian said when he finally reached the police officers, holding up his badge. They nodded and waved him through.

As he stepped past the perimeter they'd set up, he took a moment to look at the house. He wasn't even sure house was the right word, actually. Mansion was definitely the word to describe this. It was a big L-shaped building, lots of white marble and glass windows. It wasn't one of those glass and steel ultra-modern mansions, it had some dated, almost Victorian charm to it, though everything was still in perfect condition.

The mansion was set on quite a large chunk of land for Los Angeles, a whopping 9 acres. He supposed that an ancestral fey probably liked having some green around her in the big city. He hadn't gotten much of a look at it as he was coming in, it was mostly obscured by the building itself and the elaborate stone wall surrounding the property, too tall to peek over. Right now though, the serenity of the land was significantly disturbed by the police officers who were walking back and forth along the long cobblestone footpath. It was a wide footpath though, easily wide enough to drive a car down, though all the cars were stored in the garage nearer to the entrance.

The mansion was set decently far back on the property, while the crowd of paparazzi were being held back at the entrance that led through the grand stone wall. Also outside of the stone wall was a large roundabout that was part of the property, providing access to the multi-car garage. Access to the mansion was surprisingly pedestrian, a simple cobblestone path that was right now occupied by officers and forensics teams going back and forth.

Julian set off down the path himself, nodding at the officers he passed along the way. He didn't recognize most of them, but this was obviously a high profile case, it was no wonder some reinforcements would be called in. Julian reached the end of the path and ascended the steps to the house's front doors, a wide, smooth stone staircase. The large wooden double doors were held open, and Julian walked into an enormous foyer, complete with lush navy carpet and grand staircases with dark wood steps and bronze balustrades.

The majority of police officers were continuing onwards, so Julian did as well, going through the entrance hall (which in itself was larger than his whole apartment) and walking into the living room. The mansion had polished dark wood as its' main material, it was used prevalently in doorframes and the trim of most of the rooms. The living room had an elaborate fireplace dominating the room, along with a handful of cushioned armchairs and two fancy sofas. Ornate bookshelves lined the walls, and Julian was struck by how homely it felt. Most modern mansions looked more gray and cold, but this place was rich and cozy. There was very visibly an excess of wealth on display here, Julian was no idiot, but if he ever got fabulously rich, this was the kind of place he'd want, not somewhere that was all modernity and harsh angles and big empty rooms.

Unfortunately, when Julian followed the stream of people out to the backyard, he saw something that definitely hurt the whole homey vibe. Namely, the bloodied, savaged corpse of a woman Julian barely recognized as Niamh Sinclair. Her fiery red hair was splashed like fire across the grass, and her body was cut in a number of different places. Blood was smeared across her so violently it was hard to see where the actual wounds were, but there were several of them. Most notably across her throat, but her arms and wrists had definitely been cut.

"What the hell happened here?" Julian muttered, and a member of the forensics team looked his way.

"You're the lead detective?" she asked, and Julian nodded.

"Yup. Detective Anderson." Julian introduced himself.

"Anna Lopez." she introduced herself, then nodded towards Niamh's body. "This is just terrible. Who does something like this?"

"I wish I knew." Julian scowled. "What can you tell me about her?"

"Well, for one thing, all of those cuts on her wrists and her neck, those were done while she was alive." Lopez frowned. "I don't know if you heard, but Mrs. Sinclair died three days ago, but this week was one of her 'solace weeks', according to her staff."

"What the hell is a solace week?" Julian frowned.

"It's where she dismisses all her staff and spends the week in isolation or with her daughter Ciara." Lopez explained. "It's the reason nobody knew she was dead until Ciara dropped by."

"The daughter found the body?" Julian winced.

"Yup. I couldn't imagine." Lopez shuddered. "My mom and I, we're tight. Finding her like this, ugh, I'd be a wreck."

Julian frowned at the bloody body, turning over what he'd just been told in his mind. "So, odds are, someone knew she'd be alone this week and struck when they knew there was little to no risk of discovery."

"Oh, wow, maybe you're right." Lopez nodded. "That would definitely make sense, someone like Niamh Sinclair would definitely be surrounded by staff otherwise."

"How far in advance does Mrs. Sinclair plan her solace weeks?" Julian wondered, but Lopez shrugged. Julian nodded in response, resting his hands on his hips as he looked around.

"Is the daughter here? Ciara?" Julian asked.

Lopez nodded, pointing back into the house. "I think they've got her in one of the sitting rooms. Somewhere private, you know?"

"I do." Julian nodded. "Thanks for your help. If there's anything weird about the body or the death, let me know, would you?"

"Sure thing, Detective." Lopez nodded.

Julian headed back inside the mansion, and he had to ask a few officers, but he eventually found his way to the sitting room he was looking for. Only two people occupied the room, a girl in her mid-twenties, and a man who looked like a detective, in his late forties or so.

"Who are you?" the detective asked, standing up.

"Detective Julian Anderson." Julian said, eyeing the other detective curiously. "I'm lead detective here, who are you?"

"Detective John Hartman." the other man said. "And I'm lead detective."

"Uh huh." Julian said, frowning. He glanced towards the girl, and felt an instant pang. She was beautiful, but she looked shattered. Her red hair, bright fiery red like her mother's, was held up by a big plastic clip, and her pale, freckled arms were wrapped around herself. She wore a floral green sundress that hinted at her impressively sized and unmistakably perky breasts. It was a pretty standard looking outfit for a girl that Julian guessed was aos sídhe. He looked back to Hartman, gesturing towards the door.

"I'll be taking point here." Julian said firmly. "I'm not sure who sent you, but we're all good here."

Hartman's brow furrowed, but he huffed and nodded. "Fine, kid. Have at it."

He threw a hand up in the air and walked out of the room huffily. Julian shut the door after him, and sat down opposite Ciara Sinclair. "A friend of your mother's sent me." Julian started the conversation, and Ciara glanced up at him. Her eyes were vivid green, like grass on a spring day.

"Who?" Ciara asked, her voice rich with an Irish lilt, though it was less an accent than a melody to her words.

"Alexandra Blackwood." Julian said, watching her reaction. Ciara startled, and she looked at him with renewed interest.

"So you know about..." Ciara prompted, and Julian nodded.

"I know what your mother was, kind of, and I know what Alexandra is. I'm a werewolf." Julian introduced himself.

Ciara nodded slowly. "Well, if you know all about that, then I'll be frank with you, Detective. I know why my mother was murdered, and it wasn't for money."

"She was protecting something, right?" Julian guessed, and Ciara nodded.

"Aye." she agreed. "Mother has been here guarding a whitethorn for decades."

"Er... a whitethorn?" Julian blinked.

"It's a type of tree." Ciara explained. "A small tree, or a really big shrub. It's called a hawthorn tree sometimes, too."

"Ok... and why was she guarding it?" Julian inquired.

"It's a sídhe, a portal to Tír na nÓg, the Land of the Young." Ciara explained.

"So someone killed your mother and then crossed over once the whitethorn was no longer guarded?" Julian guessed.

"It's not that simple. They burned the whitethorn, and I think they took the ashes." Ciara frowned.

"Ugh. Don't say it's a ritual ingredient." Julian sighed.

"An extremely rare one." Ciara nodded. "And with the equinox happening next week, it's almost certainly going to be used then."

"It's that powerful of an ingredient to kill an aos sídhe over?" Julian asked.

"Yes. The whitethorn ashes would be absolutely soaked with the power of the Land of the Young, they could serve any number of functions in any number of rituals." Ciara nodded.

"Right... so we're talking bad news." Julian said, rubbing his forehead. "I swear, if I have to hear one more vaguely ominous thing about a ritual happening next week, I'm going to lose it."

"What else have you heard?" Ciara pressed, and Julian scowled.

"There's some kind of Equinox Gala that a warlock is throwing, Cassius Benning. That's almost certainly going to involve magic, and then there's the possibility of a serial killer trying to use the Harvest Moon for a ritual, too, but that one's more a theory of mine than cold, hard fact." Julian sighed. Ciara sat back, shaking her head.

"It is an auspicious time, we should have foreseen this." Ciara finally said. "The fey will be weakened following the loss of one of the sídhe in the city, but I will reach out to the guardians of the others. Mother and I were the only aos sídhe in the city, but all of the sídhe are defended in some way. They are too important to the lives of the fey peoples."

"Have you ever heard of a sídhe being called a diamond before?" Julian frowned as a thought occurred to him.

"A diamond?" Ciara asked, thinking for a second. "No, I have not. Fairy mounds, hollow hills, they have many names. Never a diamond though. Why?"

"No reason." Julian shook his head. "I need to ask though, do you have any idea who might have done this?"

"No." Ciara shook her head. "Mother was ancient and powerful. It must have taken someone with either a specific weapon or immense power to kill her."

"I saw there were several wounds on her that were caused by a blade of some kind." Julian said gently. "What kind of weapon would work on your mother?"

"Something iron, for sure." Ciara said at once. "It is the great weakness of the people of the Land of the Young, but iron alone would not have been enough to kill Mother."

"So we're potentially looking for some kind of magical iron weapon?" Julian asked, and Ciara nodded.

"It is a possibility." she agreed. "I am not sure what might have such power, but it must have been something. To fathom someone killing Mother... she has been alive since before most countries in this world. She was once revered by humanity, and she ended her life in hiding, suffering a death of iron. There are stories about her, you know. And now... she's gone."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Julian said, though he thought those words seemed useless when discussing the death of somebody so old.

"Thank you." Ciara sighed, hastily wiping away tears.

"I plan on finding out who did this to your mother." Julian said firmly. "I'll look into this magical iron weapon theory. Maybe forensics can tell me what kind of weapon we're looking for."

Ciara nodded, looking a little numb. Now that the surprise of a werewolf detective had subsided, she seemed to be retreating back into her grief.

"Here, this is my phone number." Julian said, handing over his business card. "If you have any troubles, or you think of anything that could help, please let me know."

"I will." Ciara nodded. "And I will let Alexandra know about this iron weapon. She might have methods of finding out more about it as well."

"Please do." Julian nodded. Anything to not have to talk to her himself, eh?

Julian rose to his feet to leave the room, but Ciara looked up at him, her bright green eyes sorrowful. "Thank you again, Detective, for all of your help."

"Of course." Julian nodded. "Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you."

Ciara murmured a thank you, and Julian left the grieving daughter to her thoughts.

———

"What are we doing here?" Ellen asked, walking up to the Cutlass as Julian climbed out of it.

"Hey, you're the one who called me demanding to know where I was." Julian shrugged. "You don't get to complain about my choice of venue."

Ellen sighed, but she still wrinkled her nose adorably. "Sure, but why are we at this touristy magic shop?"

"It's not touristy. An enchanter owns this place with his wife, who's a seer, and the pair of them have been very helpful to me recently." Julian explained as he locked his car. Glancing up and down the street, the pair of werewolves crossed the road together. Sounded like the setup to a bad joke, didn't it?

"Hmm. Interesting." Ellen said thoughtfully as Julian opened the front door for her. The familiar bell hanging above the entrance dinged as Julian followed Ellen into the shop. The werewolf girl wore a white tank top today with a faded light blue denim jacket thrown over it. On her lower half, she was wearing a pair of black athletic leggings with a white stripe down the side. The leggings were ridiculously tight, and Ellen's incredible round ass jiggled as she walked.

"Hi, Julian!" exclaimed the cheerful blue-haired witch behind the counter. Her blue hair was tied back with a red ribbon today, and she wore another oversized T-shirt, this one black with a bright pink dragon on it. She was wearing sheer black leggings today, covering up her extremely pale legs.

"Hey, Freya." Julian nodded at her. "Romero in?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Scott both are." Freya reported, pointing behind her. "Who's this?"

"This is Ellen, a friend of mine." Julian introduced. "Ellen, this is Freya. She works here."

"Nice to meet you." Ellen nodded, her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket. Julian led the way behind the counter and through the curtain, and Ellen followed him through into Romero's workshop.

Romero was poring over some big book with faded yellow pages, his finger moving across the pages intently. Bizarrely, Meg and Inara seemed to be drinking tea from fancy china with yellow and pink flowers painted on it. Seeing Inara sipping tea out of a little teacup was something shocking, but it made perfect sense for Meg, who wore a woven cardigan today, draped around her body. Inara, on the other hand, wasn't wearing much, like usual. The djinn had on a dark purple lace camisole showing off her flat stomach and her gleaming blue jewel navel piercing, along with a pair of black leather pants.

"Julian!" Romero smiled. "It's nice to see you up and about. Inara was very worried about your condition. Who's your friend?"

"I wasn't that worried." Inara frowned over at Romero, but he either didn't hear or didn't believe her enough to respond.

"I'm Ellen." Ellen said with a little wave. "Uh, I'm a werewolf."

"It's nice to meet you, Ellen. Are you also a detective?" Meg asked politely, taking a sip of tea.

"Oh, no, no." Ellen waved Meg off hastily. "I'm just friends with Julian. I was being a bit nosy considered what Jules went through, so I tagged along."

"Well, it's wonderful to have you." Meg smiled. "I'm Margaret Scott, but you can just call me Meg. Tea?"

"Ah, no thank you." Ellen shook her head, long brown hair swinging.

"And I'm Romero Scott." Romero introduced himself. "I heard from Inara we have you to thank for helping Julian recover, so thank you."

"Told them a lot, huh?" Julian asked with a grin in Inara's direction. The djinn yawned and flipped him off, making Julian shake his head wryly.

"So, what brings you by?" Romero asked, wisely cutting Julian and Inara off before they could get into arguing.

"A fallen angel?" Meg asked hopefully, but Julian shook his head.

"Still nothing on that front." Julian admitted. "I've been looking into it when I can, but I've been busy. In fact, just today I had another weird murder to look into."

"The same serial killer?" Romero inquired, but Julian shook his head.

"Nope. Or at least, this murder wasn't killed in the same fashion. This one was a lot more bloody and violent, like there'd been a fight." Julian explained. "In fact, Alexandra Blackwood herself put me on this murder."

"The Highsire of Long Beach?" Romero frowned.

"And the bitch who got him kidnapped." Inara scowled.

"Actually, she apologized for that." Julian mentioned. "Sure, it was in a letter that kind of creepily was just in my apartment this morning, but she apologized for how those werewolves treated me and said that she had just wanted my help looking into the murder of her friend."

"An ancient vampire like that has a friend?" Inara asked wryly, but Meg looked perturbed.

"Who was it?" Meg asked. "Alexandra must have been close with her to warrant going to you."

"Yeah, apparently Corinne has been talking me up around the clan." Julian shrugged. "As for who, it was this super wealthy woman named Niamh Sinclair. She was aos sídhe, apparently."

"What is that?" Ellen asked, but Romero looked thunderstruck.

"Aos sídhe?" he breathed reverently. "I hadn't thought there were any left. There was one here in Los Angeles? And someone killed her?"

"Yup." Julian nodded. "Killed her and burned her sídhe, too, this whitethorn tree. Her daughter Ciara is sure that they wanted the ashes."

"Oh God." Romero groaned, rubbing a hand across his face. "The things someone could do with whitethorn ashes like those..."

"Ciara is pretty broken up about her mother, but she warned that with the equinox coming up, there could be some dark shit at play here." Julian agreed.

"Can somebody fill me in?" Inara demanded. "What are we dealing with?"

"It's old Celtic legend." Romero nodded. "It's not just legend, obviously, but the aos sídhe are said to be a supernatural race descended from the Tuath Dé, the gods of Irish mythology. Now, I don't know about any gods, but the modern day fey are descendants of the aos sídhe, that much is fact. I'm sure you've all heard of the Land of the Young, the otherworld that fey hail from. Sídhe are gateways to the Land of the Young, usually some kind of tree or other naturally formed phenomena, like a mushroom circle, or a cave in a hill. The aos sídhe are the people tasked with defending these sídhe."

"So they killed Niamh Sinclair because she was guarding the sídhe and they wanted it." Ellen summed up.

"It sounds like it." Julian nodded. "So somebody out there has an incredibly powerful ritual ingredient, a week before one of the best days in the year to do a ritual."

"Not just any ritual though." Romero pointed out. "Rituals powered by the autumn equinox are often about the cycle of life and death. According to legend, it's the time when Persephone entered the Underworld, causing the months of cold. That may just be myth, but the equinox is very good at powering rituals regarding change, life, and death."

"And do you know any rituals like that that would need whitethorn ashes?" Julian wondered.

"I'm an enchanter, not an expert on rituals. I imbue objects with power, I don't do all of that." Romero shrugged. "You'd need a witch or a warlock for that."

"A witch like Freya?" Julian wondered, pointing over his shoulder at the closed curtain.

"Someone with more experience, likely." Romero shrugged. "Freya's newer to the arts of witchcraft."

"Great." Julian muttered. "We need to figure out who has these whitethorn ashes. Niamh Sinclair needs to be avenged."

"Should you be out and about at crime scenes?" Inara cut in suddenly. "There's likely a whole werewolf pack hunting you at the moment."

"Alexandra Blackwood said she handled it." Julian shrugged. "I don't know what that means, but I'm hoping it means I'm in the clear. I'm staying wary just in case though."

Inara made a noise of disapproval, but she said nothing.

"Romero, Ciara was saying that it was probably some kind of magically powered iron weapon that killed Niamh." Julian told the enchanter. "Forensics says it was a long blade of some kind, maybe a sword. You know anything about something like that?"

Romero contemplated that for a moment. "I haven't heard of any magical iron swords, but that doesn't mean they aren't around. If I couldn't identify an aos sídhe living in my own city, I'm not sure what hope I have of finding a specific sword."

"I was half hoping you'd made one for somebody." Julian admitted, but Romero just gave a rueful grin.

"If only we would be so lucky." the enchanter chuckled. "I do not enchant weapons, as a general rule. At least not for customers."

"I'm guessing yours is a Romero special?" Julian asked, looking sidelong at Inara, who smirked and nodded.

"I never have to sharpen it and it automatically cleans itself." Inara said cheerfully.

"Cool." Ellen muttered from beside Julian, earning a grin from Inara.

"There seems to be quite a lot happening in Los Angeles around the time of the equinox." Meg frowned. "More than most years, it seems."

"Or maybe we're just more involved with it these year." Romero pointed out, and Meg shrugged.

"Speaking of the equinox, do you think you could get me an invite to Cassius Benning's Equinox Gala?" Julian asked hopefully.

"Ah, Inara already mentioned that to me." Romero recalled. "I'm afraid not. I'm old, but I'm not the kind of rich and powerful people that Benning likes to surround him with. I am, unfortunately, very familiar with the old bastard."

"Great." Julian sighed. "I have a bad feeling about that party. I know of two people who I think were trying to get into that party, and they're both dead now."

"What party is this?" Ellen wondered.

"There's this rich and powerful warlock named Cassius Benning." Julian explained. "He hosts this big equinox party happening next week, and two of the serial killer's victims seemed to be conspiring to get into his mansion. I'm interested in finding out why."

"Okay, that makes sense, I guess." Ellen said, furrowing her brow.

"Why not ask vampire bitch?" Inara suggested. "She's the kind of rich snooty individual that Cassius Benning would hang around, don't you think?"

"She's a better candidate than I am." Romero agreed. "I'd refrain from calling the Highsire of Long Beach those things, however. She has ears everywhere."

Inara gave an unconcerned shrug. "It's daytime."

"I can ask her next time I see her, but she won't be too happy if I show up with not a single lead on who killed Niamh Sinclair." Julian scowled.

"Well, there's the whitethorn ashes and their possible use in a ritual." Meg offered.

"True, but unless she knows something we don't, that's not a lead. Just a motive." Julian sighed.

"Any chance your human police friends have a lead?" Romero wondered.

Inara chuckled. "Nah, he got dumped by his partner."

"I'm steering clear of the precinct right now." Julian cleared his throat, making Inara's broad, amused grin grow even wider.

Romero raised his eyebrows, but he nodded. "Fair enough, I suppose. If you're hunting a magical weapon, I do know somewhere you could look. I know of a fellow over in Pasadena who runs a veiled... pawn shop, for lack of a better word. He gets his hands on lots of artifacts as a result of his job, he might know something about a magic iron sword."

"Well, it's worth a shot. I have a feeling I'll be hearing from the Highsire tonight, it'd be nice to have a lead to give her." Julian sighed. "Can you send me the address?"

"Sure thing." Romero nodded.

"You mind the company?" Ellen asked, and Julian must have looked surprised, because she gave a huff. "I'm still worried about this werewolf pack, Jules, even if you're not."

"Fine. You're welcome to come." Julian agreed, and Ellen looked pleased.

"Oh, and make sure you mention my name." Romero winked. "It'll open some doors for you."

"Will do. I appreciate the help." Julian said, and Romero nodded.

"I'm always happy to help." Romero said fondly.

"Good luck!" Meg called with a wave. Julian waved back, and looked over to Inara.

"What, you want a tearful goodbye or something?" Inara scowled. "Shoo!"

Julian chuckled, shaking his head as he led the way back out of the curtained off workshop. Julian and Ellen left the shop after a quick goodbye to Freya, and Julian led the way back to the Cutlass across the street.

"I think this might be a first for us." Julian said as he opened the driver's side door.

"What is?" Ellen asked, opening the passenger door.

"Running down leads together." Julian answered as he climbed in the car and closed the door.

"True." Ellen admitted, mirroring his action with the passenger door. "I've never really gotten involved with all your detective stuff."

"Well, I'm glad to have you with me for this." Julian shrugged. "It's nice partnering with someone I don't have to lie to."

"You should tell Abigail the truth." Ellen mentioned as Julian turned on the car. "She seems like a tough girl, I think she can handle it."

"You met her once, and for only a couple minutes before we had to leave and go to a crime scene." Julian said dryly.

"And she made an impression on me!" Ellen protested.

"I don't want to put her in danger." Julian sighed. "So unless I have to... I'm not telling her anything."

Ellen obviously disagreed, but she didn't say anything else on the matter as Julian pulled out into the street and began the drive north.