Bound by Faerie: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Stolen Magic Book 1) by WB McKay

interrogated."
    She shrugged. "I'm trying to make conversation while we wait. It's not my fault you make that exceptionally difficult."
    "Oh," I said. "Your tanks are really cool."
    "Yes," Ava said. "I like them. Oh, Patricia!" It could have been my imagination, but I thought she looked awfully relieved to not have to make small talk with me anymore. I was, too. "You're here. Thank you so much for coming." Ava nodded. "Yes, yes, that's her. Mmm, yes, I see. Well, she did—oh, did she?" Ava was talking about me, I knew that much, but there wasn't anything I could put together from the things she said. I focused instead on trying to see whoever she was talking to, but nothing; I didn't even sense any changes in Ava's magic. All of my other senses failing me, I stretched out a hand toward the space where Ava was looking. Ava slapped my hand away. "You'll have to forgive her, Patricia. It's not you, she's like this with everyone." She leaned back, continuing to ask questions, and I spaced out until she gasped and spun toward me. "You insulted his club!" She turned back to the empty air, mouth gaping, and then her lips curled down in disgust. She rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, fine, yes." And then she pulled something from her pocket and threw it at me. I choked on the bloom of magic.
    "What the—oh." A very human looking woman stood on the coffee table, tapping her sparkly shoes. She wore fashions I didn't recognize. Her dress dripped with beads; her hair was short and curled around her head. She was pretty. And annoyed.
    "That's better," Patricia said. "Hello."
    "Yes, yes," Ava said. "Patricia, this is Sophie. Sophie, Patricia." She gestured between us, pointing at the wrong person for each name.
    "What—how—" I couldn't decide what to ask first. Regaining control of my tongue, I asked, "What did you throw at me?" The magic tasted dusty. I couldn't get it off my tongue.
    "A charm for your sight."
    "Why didn't my second sight work on its own?"
    "Patricia is a ghost, dear. You can only see her if..." She rolled her hand in the air near her head. I thought she was searching for the right word, but maybe the gesture meant something I didn't understand. "Think of it as a third sight. Ghosts are always around, and they can see you, but you can't see them. Unless you're me. Or you have this charm."
    "And how long is this going to last?" Seeing dead people: not a thing I wanted to do for the rest of my life, thank you very much. Most charms were brief, so I wasn't panicking yet.
    "A little while, which is why we should give our attention to the conversation at hand."
    "Oh, well, excuse me." Okay, that was a little rude, but a wary glance at Ava made me think she hadn't picked up on it. "Wait. So is this how you find lost things? You ask ghosts? I thought you were a seeker."
    Her nose twitched. "I am not a seeker," she said. "You're correct. I ask my friends to help me find things, tho ugh my clients don't know that. The living react strangely when they know the dead surround them. We keep those secrets to ourselves."
    Patricia snorted.
    "Wow," I said, for lack of a better response. I knew there were fae who talked to the dead, but they were considered lower fae, and their magic was typically unique to them, unless they were reapers. Ava was no reaper. Which meant she was unique. She wasn't avoiding the seeker community in the city like I'd assumed. Ava was alone. Like me.
    Patricia tapped her foot, and the beads on her dress clinked against each other. She was a ghost, but I'd bet money she was human. "Ava, don't ghosts stay attached to where they died? What's a human ghost doing in Volarus?"
    "Volarus is overly populated with human ghosts," Ava said, eyes wide like she couldn't believe I didn't know that. With an apologetic look at Patricia, Ava leaned toward me and whispered, "Blood drinkers."
    Now my eyes were wide. That was an awful way to die. I didn't think there were that many of them around anymore. The banshees spoke of