by Quirah Casey
A piece of paper.
I look at him, silently asking what it's for, but he simply smiles, leans down, and brushes his lips against my ear. “See you later, Pudding.” He turns away, joining his sister and cousin before they pile into the car and drive away.
“Come.” Levitsky walks past me and I follow him, sliding the paper into my pocket and nodding to Mel, who’s waiting for me on the other side of the park.
Levitsky opens the passenger door of an agency car. “You better not try to pull some slick shit, Agent,” I say before getting in. He closes the door behind me, walks around to the driver’s side, and joins me in the car.
“Tell me you didn’t do this.”
“I didn’t do this.” He eyes me. “I’m serious!”
“There seemed to be a lot of tension between you and the wolf yesterday. Did she come after you? If you had to take her out, why hang up her body and cut her tongue out? It makes no sense.”
“It makes no sense because I didn’t do it. If I’d killed Tarae, you’d never know. Her body wouldn’t have been found. This…” I gesture to the scene outside the window. “This isn’t me.” He continues to watch me closely, and I manage to keep my anger down. Mostly. “But it was for me. I guarantee that the person who did this is the same one setting me up. Tarae is meant to be an example: they cut her tongue out and pinned it to her head because she’s a snitch.”
“Gods,” he says after a deep breath. “This is all a fucking shit show. We’re not moving quickly enough.”
I agree. The killer is getting bolder, the bodies appearing one right after the other. “Does the CDA have any leads on her byurtids?”
“No. What happens to them now that she’s dead?”
“They’re released; the bond is broken. Not that they were really obeying her at this point anyway.” I pause, thinking that over. “Maybe they killed her so that they could break the bond permanently. They’d clearly figured out how to ignore it, so she wouldn’t have been able to prevent them from attacking her.”
“And how does that connect to you? Why would they want to frame you if their main goal was to get rid of Tarae?”
“I don’t know.”
Levitsky runs a hand over his face, then looks out the window in front of us as a few people walk by. “Why did London leave?”
I frown at him. “I don’t know. Do you think I’m a fucking mind reader?”
He lets out a humorless laugh. “Hell, at this point it wouldn’t surprise me.” He sighs. “Why would someone be trying to set you up?”
The million dollar question.
“You’ve been in town long enough to understand that I’m at the top of the food chain, and you don’t get there without making enemies. So truthfully, I’m not surprised. Someone could be trying to overthrow me, to take over the town. Or I may have pissed someone off, hurt somebody close to them. The list is fucking endless.”
He nods. “Well, rest up tonight. Tomorrow we’re going to have to start working much harder to crack this case.”
A knock on the window catches us by surprise, and I turn my head to find Alenin standing at the window, glaring at me. I push the door open, hitting him with it, and he stumbles back. “Later, Agent,” I say to Levitsky, and I pull the piece of paper out of my pocket as I walk away. I look down at the words:
Charisma. 7 o’clock.
♛
This time when I walk into Charisma, Ona’s greeting is much more cheerful and polite. “What can I get for you, Blue?” She forces a smile.
“Just a drink today.” I turn my head and my eyes instantly lock onto golden ones. I turn back to Ona. “Ioptrae with a little uytras.” Ioptrae is a soft drink that beatus love. It’s typically too strong for humans, burning their throats. And uytras is a pick-me-up created by the fae that can kill humans if they consume too much. For beatus, it's like coffee. After these past few weeks, I need it.
“I’ll bring it right over.”
I join London at his table; his lips turn up when I sit down. “Took you long enough, Pudding. I almost thought you weren’t coming.”
“I’m only half an hour late. As you know, I do run a club.”
“And The Blue Butcher. I wouldn’t have expected you to own a meat shop, especially not such a good one.”
The Blue Butcher was the second business I opened in Lobrooke, and it’s become one of the town’s top eateries, not to mention an even better cover business. Butch, a tiny, adorable pixie, takes good care of the shop and disposes of any bodies that I might happen to bring in. I rarely have to check in on the Butcher, knowing that Butch has everything under control.
“Your drink, Blue.” Ona sets my soda on the table, and London looks at it curiously, its sweet aroma filling the air.
“What is that?” he asks.
“Ioptrae with uytras. Did they not have it in London?” Another beatus hotspot, London (the city, not the person) is crawling with beatus, and I am surprised that London (the person, not the city) doesn’t recognize the drink.
“No.” He picks the drink up, taking a sip before I can stop him.
I summon Onyx, pressing her against his wrist. “Put it down.”
He sighs, frowning. “Is that really necessary?” he asks, putting the drink back down as Ona looks on, bewildered.
“It is today.” I call Onyx back into my arm, picking up my drink and downing it. “Another one, Ona.”
“And one for me,” London says, and Ona scurries away.
“You are quite unstable, you know. Has anyone told you that?” London tilts his head as he watches me.
“Many times, but I don’t think I’d heard it yet today.”
“Probably because everyone is afraid you’re going to cut their head off.”
“Probably.”
We sit in silence, eyeing each other until Ona reappears with the drinks. After she leaves, I hit the glamour button, muting our conversation.
“Why did you want to meet?”
“For a couple of reasons. One, you still need to give my people back. I’ve been waiting patiently.”
“Ah. Have you decided what you’re willing to trade for them?”
He frowns. “Really? I thought we agreed—”
“I’m kidding.” A deal is a deal, and he did give me information for his people. Besides, they’ve proven unhelpful for the most part. The longer this case goes on, the less I suspect Levitsky and London anyway. “Fine, you can come get them from the club tomorrow. Say, three o’clock?” I take a sip of my drink. “Is that all? You could have just said that at the crime scene.”
“No, that’s not all. I wanted to talk about Blaine Levitsky. You need to stop lying to him, or he’ll take us off the case, and then we won’t be able to get his codes.”
“Really? That’s what you’re worried about?” I shake my head. “He isn’t going to kick me off the case, not so long as I keep giving him information. You, on the other hand, haven’t contributed much. I didn’t take you for such a slacker, Pudding.”
He drags his fingers along his glass, shrugging. “There hasn’t been much for me to help with so far.”
Impulsively, I tell him what I already discussed with Levitsky: my theory that the byurtids wanted to kill Tarae to break their bond.
“It doesn’t quite make sense, since we don’t know what it would have to do with me.” I finish.
He looks at his glass thoughtfully before raising his eyes to me. “Maybe whoever is blocking the bond for the byurtids is the same person who’s after you, and they hired the byurtids to help. That person could have promised to block the servitude bond long enough for the byurtids to kill Tarae, as long as they helped their leader set you up.”
“Damn.” I wince. “Guess you’re not just a pretty face then.”
His grin returns. “No, but I am glad you think I’m pretty.” I roll my eyes. “Tarae was only missing seven byurtids, though, and there were more attackers than that.”
“The leader could have had some
henchmen already, or a pack or something. Maybe they hired the byutrids so that they’d have a larger force to account for collateral damage.”
“Somebody easy to dispose of,” he agrees. “Or they could be using other byurtids, with different urewts. Do you know of any more urewts in town?” Then he thinks better of the question. “Of course you do. I don’t even know why I asked.”
“I’ll get Melodiya to call around and check in. If any of them were missing byurtids, it’s not like they would’ve gone to the authorities.”
“How strong would someone have to be to cloak a bond, anyway? From what I understand, the byurtid bond is a pretty strong one. Who’d have the power to do such a thing?”
A good question. “The only person I know to be strong enough is Fran. But I know for a fact that she wouldn’t do this.”
He raises a brow. “You trust her that much.”
“I do.” There’s not many people in this world who I wholeheartedly trust, but I trust Fran.
“Okay then. So I guess we have our next task: find out whose urewts are missing and who could be strong enough to block so many bonds at once.” London smiles. “See, we’re a great team, Pudding.” He leans across the table and runs his fingers along the back of my hand. I pull away. “All we need to do is work together, and we’ll be able to get closer to Blaine and his codes.”
I shake my head. “You seem intent on double-crossing the agent. How do I know you’re not going to double-cross me?”
“You don’t, but I won’t.”
I shift in my seat, watching him closely for signs of deceit. He could easily have plans to stab me in the back. To get my hands on what I need, though, I’m willing to risk it. If he crosses me, I’ll just kill him. He already deserves it.
He bangs his glass against mine. “To double-crossing the agent.”
London leaves the café before me because I have to take a call from Marie. When I get to my car, I find a note under my windshield wiper, and I frown, wondering what London would have to say to me that he couldn’t tell me in Charisma.
I look around, knowing he’s long gone. If he were still nearby, I’d feel him. Instead, lingering in the air, is a dark presence I’ve felt before: first, outside Fran’s, and then again in my club on the night of the murders.
I pick up the note, my fingers tingling as they touch the paper. It looks blank at first, but before my eyes, four words materialize across the surface.
Welcome to the game.
-M
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“You think this is funny?” Melodiya’s eyes widen as she looks up from the note.
“Of course I think this is funny,” I chuckle. “I mean, really. Who would find that shit threatening? Welcome to the game.” I growl, then bend over with laughter once again.
“Blue!”
“Even I couldn’t make that shit seem threatening.”
“Blue.”
“A preschooler could have done better than that!”
“Siniy!” She snaps, and finally I look at her directly. Her expression is the opposite of mine: tight around the eyes and mouth, a picture of solemnity. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
“Of course I’m not.” I plop down on the couch, propping my feet on the coffee table. “This is child’s play. Quest and Journey could have put together a more threatening note.”
Finally, Melodiya smiles slightly, turning her head toward the twins’ room down the hall, where we can hear the TV blaring. “Quest probably could’ve. She’s quite scary already—much like you at that age.”
“Look, Mel, the scariest thing about that note is the fact that a lot of shit starts with the letter M. Hell, your name and Marie’s both start with an M.”
She shakes her head. “Your problem, Blue, is that you think you’re the baddest thing walking. And while that’s actually pretty likely, you have to remember that even the biggest and baddest people can fall. You’re cocky and overconfident, and those qualities have gotten you far in life. But I’m afraid that they may also lead to your downfall.” I can see the sadness and fear in her violet eyes. Her lips part slightly, and her breath hitches as she tries to say something else, but it seems she can’t quite find the right words.
Then we hear a shriek from the girls’ room.
“Mom! Help!” I jump to my feet and take off down the hall, Melodiya on my heels.
My heart slams against my ribcage for the two seconds that it takes me to make it to their room. I stop short in the doorway, and Mel bumps into me as she catches up.
In my haste, I didn’t hear the girls’ giggles. Quest sits on Journey’s stomach, tickling her. “Mom! Aun-Auntie Mel! He-help!” Journey manages to shout between giggles.
“Fuck,” I sigh as my heart rate slows.
“Fuck!” Quest repeats cheerfully, not bothering to look up from the twin she’s tormenting.
“Quest.” Mel reprimands gently, pushing past me and lifting Quest off her sister, turning the tickling fest around. “Watch your mouth, missy.”
“Get her, Auntie Mel!” Journey cheers as she gets to her feet, watching with delight as her twin suffers Mel’s tickle attack.
A smile spreads across my face as I finally relax. “Oh no, ma’am. Surely you don’t think you’re safe,” I warn, picking her up. Before I can start tickling her, she wraps her arms around my neck, her soft skin pressing against mine. My heart squeezes as she laughs.
I watch Melodiya and Quest, breathless from the intensity of the feeling in my chest. This is why I have to eliminate threats; this is why I can’t let my guard down.
I’ve promised to protect everyone in this room, and I’ll be damned if I break that promise.
♛
I feel uneasy as I walk toward Fran’s Franchise with London and Levitsky following close behind. Something in the air is off, but I’m not quite sure what it is. I discreetly look around, not wanting the guys to know that I think something’s up. I don’t see anyone around, so I figure my tense feeling is due to Fran’s desperation over the phone. I’d been grilling Mel about how it went when she handed off the Stendahl wyryns—she hadn’t noticed any suspicious behavior from London or his people—when Fran called, insisting that I come see her immediately. She said it had to do with the bodies, and at Melodiya’s insistence, I’d found myself calling Agent Levitsky, who’d called London. I’m being a team player, or at least trying to convince them that I am.
The door to one of the shops opens and I pause, watching as a couple of mothoms walk out. Let’s just say they haven’t been my favorite species lately.
“What’s wrong?” London asks, and I turn my head to find him looking at me.
His intense gaze, the way he watches me, trying to figure out every little thing about me, only worsens my unease. “Nothing.” I snap, hurrying the last couple of steps to Fran’s. There’s a closed sign on the door, but it opens easily when I pull the handle.
It doesn’t take me long to find Fran.
The witch is sitting on the floor in front of the counter, resting against a man’s caramel arms. His head is bowed toward Fran, his black and gray hair falling into his face. He’s fully naked. He lifts his head, and his green, feline eyes meet mine.
“Baptise,” I greet the familiar. Rarely does he take human form in public. Whatever the hell Fran has to say must be pretty damn serious if he had to shift to comfort her.
“It’s bad,” he warns. The poor witch doesn’t seem to be fully present. Her pale eyes are vacant, and sweat has soaked through her clothes. Her dark hair clings to her neck. “I need to lock up the shop,” Baptise says apologetically, and I nod, taking his place on the floor to support Fran.
“Franny,” I soothe as I practically drag her to the back room, leaving the others behind. What in the fuck could have her like this? “It’s Blue.”
“They call you Siniy,” she says, and I pause. Only once before has she said this to me. She knows that my past is off-limits.
“Yes, they d
id,” I admit as I ease her onto a couch. “But no more. Now I am Blue.”
“No, you’re darkness,” she says. Suddenly I understand: we’re going through a replay of our first meeting.
“She’s having a flashback,” I tell Baptise as he enters the room, London and Levitsky following wordlessly.
Baptise’s head hangs as he sighs deeply. “Yes, she has been going in and out of them all day. Flashbacks and visions. Seeing you probably triggered another one.” Fran, though she is a powerful witch, has never been a particularly talented seer. She does have the occasional vision, but so do many beatus of various species. For Fran to have many visions in one day is not normal.
Fran’s posture straightens and her head snaps in my direction, her pupils dilating. “She’s too much, too powerful, no balance.” Fran intones, her voice not her own. “You cannot defeat her, not now, not with—” Her eyes roll back and she falls. I catch her before she can hit the floor.
“Shit, what could cause this?” Levitsky asks, reminding me of his presence.
“She’s lost control of her magic,” London says, watching her closely.
“No, not Fran. She’s too powerful for that.” I look at Baptise for support, but when I see the fear, the desperation in his eyes…
“He’s…right?” I ask.
“Yes.” The answer comes not from Baptise, but Fran, who stirs in my arms, her body trembling as she attempts to sit up. “We don’t have much time left before it takes over again, so sit.” She gestures at London and Levitsky. “I must be quick.” She reaches out for Baptise and he rushes to her side, wrapping an arm around her. The tremors lessen slightly.
“Something is wrong here in Lobrooke. The power balance is off; there’s so much…” she turns to look directly at me. “Darkness.”
“Because of me?” I ask. I know that my shadow magic generates darkness, but I’ve never heard of a shadow master cloaking a whole town.
“No, it is not you. But it feels so…similar.”
