It was a quaint, shingle-sided building situated on riverfront property along the main entrance to the downtown. Inside, the decor was modern and streamlined, everything designed to suggest a tasteful degree of wealth and sophistication unusual for your average small Midwestern town. Glossy magazine-size visitors’ guides were spread across the low table in the reception area, featuring a darling blond toddler in a sun hat engrossed in building a sandcastle, the sparkling waters of Lake Michigan beckoning in the background.

On the downside, my old high school tormentor Stacey Brooks was seated at the sleek front desk, speaking ostentatiously into a wireless headset perched atop her cascading ash-brown curls, a little blue light blinking on the earpiece. She glanced at me with a look of disdain, raising one finger in a dismissive wait-a-minute gesture.

On the plus side, there was a visitor seated in the reception area, and he was cute. Short dreads, high, roundish cheekbones, cocoa-dark skin, maybe a year or two older than me. Definitely not a local or I would have known him. He nodded at dauda-dagr with a cheerful grin and greeted me in a Jamaican accent. “Nice cutlass, sistah.”

My hand fell to the hilt. “Thanks.”

“You have much call to use it, do you?” He sounded amused, and I felt self-conscious. Funny how a cute guy checking out your magic dagger can have that effect.

“I hope not.”

“Oh?” He tilted his head back, appraising me, his grin giving way to a curious look. I felt the slightest tingle of otherness, so slight it was barely there. He was human, all right—there was no glamour to see through—but there was definitely the faintest hint of the eldritch, like shadow cast from afar, the way it did with certain people.

Behind the front desk, Stacey Brooks cleared her throat. Apparently she’d concluded her important call. “Hel-lo? Daisy, my mother’s ready for you. She’s very busy, you know.”

I leveled a stare at her. “Look, I didn’t ask for this meeting.”

Stacey sniffed through her pert, perfect nose. “Do you actually think she did?” she asked in a snide tone. “Chief Bryant passed her on to you when she called him. That man is so going to lose his job. You’re lucky there are people like my mother who truly care about this town.”

I bit my tongue. “I’m sure—”

She tapped her headset, her voice turning chipper. “Pemkowet Visitors Bureau! How can we brighten your day?”

Oh, gah.