"Are they all like this one?" I asked, gesturing toward the wayward shoe.
"Sliced and diced," she said and nodded. "To varying degrees. From what I understand, they're still looking for this guy's torso."
"And foot," I said.
She gave a small smile. "I'd better summon the lab geeks, as you say. You should clear out. Now that we've found a piece over here, this whole area will be off-limits."
She seemed nice. A nice contact in the PTF could prove useful during my stay in Philadelphia. "Do you have a card, Detective?"
She pulled one from her pocket. "My extension seems to get changed regularly without anyone telling me. If you get someone else, ask for Detective Kenya Thompson. There's another Thompson in vice and my calls are usually sent to him."
Typical. "Thanks." I slid the card into my waistband. Although I had no pockets, the running pants were made of Lycra, tight enough to wedge the card in place.
I turned around and jogged back to my starting point. The run may have been a wash, but the day had just gotten a little more interesting.
Chapter Eleven
On Wednesday morning, I left the apartment while Farah was sleeping off another late night with the muscular Hinn. At least she came home this time.
I managed to grab a cab one block over and save my new sandals from immediate wear and tear. These babies had to last.
I gave the driver the address of the mini-mart in Wynnewood. Although traffic wasn't bad leaving Center City, I couldn't say the same for incoming traffic. I didn't know how people commuted every day.
Twenty-five minutes later, the cab pulled into the parking lot.
"You want me to wait?" the cabbie asked.
"No, thanks." I had no idea how long I would be. I couldn't afford to keep the meter running. I paid the man and departed the cab.
The mini-mart wasn't too big, hence the name. I figured it would be easy to find him if he stuck to his routine as closely as Flynn claimed.
I strode inside, keeping an eye out for a man in an Eagles hat.
"Good morning, sunshine," a baritone voice said.
I spun around and groaned at the sight of Niko and Mickey. Niko picked up a handheld shopping cart.
"What are you doing?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"There was another murder yesterday. The boss asked us to accompany you in case of trouble," Niko explained. "We trailed you to this place."
"I'm here to food shop," I said. "The only trouble here is the price of cereal."
They exchanged glances.
"So where's your cart?" Mickey asked. "You didn't pick up a cart when you came in."
I huffed loudly. "I'm only grabbing a few things. I don't need a cart or a babysitter."
My breath hitched when I spotted the telltale Eagles hat. Tom Watt was in the produce aisle, weighing pears.
"The boss is anxious to locate his missing heirloom," Mickey said. "You've been taking so long, he figured you could use our help."
"Well, I can't." I began to walk toward the produce aisle, but Mickey laid a hand on my shoulder.
"Let me put it another way," Mickey said. "He insisted that we accompany you on any outings. He wants to make sure you're making his business a priority."
"Tell your boss that's awfully kind of him, but I prefer to work alone." That much was true. Shadow Elite agents don't have permanent partners, just temporary teams like the one I had in Monaco. The one that left me high and dry. I brushed off the bitterness.
Watt finished in produce and moved on to the next aisle. It wasn't a big store, but still...I didn't want to lose him.
"Let's go," I said irritably. "And for the record, I'm not sure that this guy has anything to do with the heirloom. It's probably a complete waste of time." Okay, it was definitely a complete waste of their time.
"Not a complete waste," Niko said. "I have shopping to do."
I headed down the aisle for shaving needs and body wash, hoping to stay close to Watt without tipping him off. I couldn't have the conversation I wanted to have with the two stooges within earshot. I needed to ditch them without losing Watt.
Midway down the aisle, Mickey stopped to examine razors. He turned toward us, feeling his own stubble. "What about this brand? Nothing seems to work for me."
"You're Italian," Niko said. "It's a razor, not a miracle worker."
Mickey's gaze moved to the razors for women nearby and then the bikini wax products. I cringed when he picked up a box with a scantily-clad woman on the front.
"Now that's a thong woman," he declared, pointing at the box.
Niko went over to inspect the box. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about thongs." Mickey patted his own bottom. "Some women have a thong ass. Some don't."
"And she does?" Niko asked, indicating the woman on the box.
Mickey nodded. "She does or she wouldn't be on the box. That's called advertising." He replaced the box and we continued down the aisle. Watt disappeared down the next aisle.
"Do you think Alyse is a thong woman?" Niko whispered.
"I heard that," I said. "I can turn invisible, not deaf." Although these days, I couldn't do much of anything. If I could, I wouldn't be trapped in a mini-mart with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Stupid.
Mickey stopped and examined my backside. "No. No fucking way."
"Why not?" Niko asked. "She has a nice package."
I stopped in my tracks and glared at them. "I am RIGHT HERE."
Niko smiled, unconcerned. He stopped the cart to look at deodorants. He opened one to smell it. "Spring fresh, I like that."
"Guys, my mark is now in the condiment aisle." I paused and drew an impatient breath. "That's condiment, Mickey. Like mayo and ketchup. Get your mind out of the gutter and let's stop loitering."
Niko dropped the deodorant into the cart.
My patience was wearing thin. These bumbling morons were the muscle of the local crime syndicate? Philly was worse off than I thought.
"I'm going to the next aisle," I said. "You two catch up when you're finished comparing your vaginas."
Mickey grasped my shoulder. "You're not going anywhere without us."
"Let her go, Mickey. It's only the next aisle."
"I don't trust her," Mickey said.
"Why not?" Niko asked. "O'Leary does or he wouldn't have hired her."
"Bullshit," Mickey said.
"So now you don't trust the boss?" Niko shook his head.
We turned down the next aisle together, looking like some strange shopping ménage à trois, to see Watt checking out the ingredient label on a bottle of ketchup. Concerned with the presence of high fructose corn syrup, no doubt.
"So what then?" Niko continued. "You think she's an undercover cop? The cuffs are a ruse?"
I reached for a jar of mayonnaise, ready to smash it over Mickey's thick head. Niko stilled my hand with a look.
"I am not undercover. I can assure you that my cuffs are terrifyingly real or I wouldn't waste two seconds in the service of a guy like O'Leary."
"Keep your voice down," Niko urged with a nod toward Watt.
I lowered my voice. "I can also assure you that if I had full command of my powers, you'd be nothing more than a pillar of salt by now." I moved a step closer to Mickey. "And one more thing, you hairy, ignorant ape. I absolutely do have a thong ass."
I forged ahead. I was through listening to them shop and chat like two elderly sisters.
Behind me I heard Niko say, "I told you she wasn't a cop."
We paid for our few items in the checkout lane next to Watt. His basket had more items so we inadvertently finished first. Niko carried the bag outside where we lingered.
"I think it's better if I talk to him alone," I said. "You two can hang nearby in case I need backup, which I won't."
"How do you know?" Mickey asked.
"Because every item the man just bought was on sale. He even used a coupon. Thrifty guys don't fence stolen family heirlooms. They just don't."
/>
Niko knocked Mickey with his elbow and jerked his head toward the Challenger. Mickey begrudgingly followed him, one eye trained on me. I don't know what kind of funny business he expected me to pull in front of a mini-mart. The guy was supremely paranoid for an underling.
Watt stepped outside with his purchases, and I quickly moved to intercept him.
"Hi," I said, channeling my inner friendly person. I knew she was in there, tucked away in a dark corner of my soul, begging to be released every now and again.
He tensed at first, but my friendly demeanor seemed to win him over. "Hi."
"Flynn sent me," I continued quietly. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?"
He glanced down at his groceries, and I realized that he was worried about the frozen foods in his bag. It was summer, after all.
I looked over at the Challenger, the motor now running and, no doubt, the air conditioner.
"Follow me," I said.
He continued to stand there, deliberating.
"I promise I'm not going to drive anywhere with you," I assured him. Not that he couldn't shift his way out of it. "Let's sit in the air-conditioned car." I held up my wrists. "I'm defanged. I can't hurt you even if I wanted to." Okay, that part wasn't strictly true. I probably could hurt him, but he was a Shaitan and a PAN agent. I had no interest in pissing off either one while stuck in my human form.
I walked toward the Challenger and pulled open the driver side door.
"Out. Both of you," I said.
Mickey tried to jerk the door closed. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I need a cool place for a quiet conversation so my friend's ice cream doesn't melt."
"Then get in the back," Mickey replied.
I reached in and grabbed Mickey by the collar, yanking him from the car. "I am wearing an armory on my body right now, so get out of the damn car and do as you're told before I drop a few grenades down your pants and put an end to the Mickey Medici gene pool."
Mickey glared at me but moved away from the car. Niko did the same. I gestured for Watt to get in the passenger side. After my angry display, I hoped he would.
I climbed in and shut the door. A blast of cold air greeted me. Gods bless air conditioning.
Watt sat down beside me and set his grocery bag on his lap before closing the door. "You said Flynn sent you?"
I nodded. "He said you might be able to help me."
Watt looked at me and then at the copper cuffs. "You're Alyse Winters?"
"What tipped you off?"
"The bad attitude, for one thing." He chuckled. "I heard crazy stories about you at the Academy."
Didn't keep me from graduating top of my class.
"I think Flynn probably has the market cornered on crazy stories from the Academy," I said.
"How can I help you, Alyse?" he asked.
"I need to know who cuffed me and why."
Watt's gaze drifted back to my cuffs. "I can't imagine how that would feel, to be stripped bare of my abilities. A prisoner in my own body. You must feel like a caged animal."
I sighed. "You're really not making me feel better."
"May I touch one? I've never seen one up close."
I offered up a hand. The copper was no danger to him.
His finger stroked the copper around my wrist. "You must have really upset someone important."
"Is that your way of telling me you don't know anything?"
"I don't, I'm afraid. I've been here for a year now. Most of the intel that reaches me is related to my mission."
"If the opportunity presents itself, would you do a little digging for me?" I asked. I wasn't sure if I could trust him, but, at this point, I had nothing to lose. "And maybe I can help you out while I'm here."
He nodded. "Seems to be a lot of activity in the colony lately."
"You mean the murders?" I leaned back against the seat. "I've seen two corpses already and I only came to town recently."
Watt pressed his lips together. "The last one was a registered magician."
My head jerked toward him. "Girard Avenue Bridge?"
Watt nodded. "His name was Patrick Sells. He was a member of the Enclave. Their basketball team is most distraught. He was their best player."
A magician. That would keep Detective Thompson busy.
"Did they find his torso?" I asked.
Watt raised his brow in mild surprise. "I was under the impression the case was confidential."
"It is. I just happened to be there when his foot was found."
"They've all been missing parts. The current theory is organ harvesting." He sighed. "Detestable."
Mickey knocked on the window. "Come on. I'm sweating bullets out here." The thick glass muffled his voice. Bulletproof, no doubt.
"Maybe put a few in your pocket and save them for a rainy day," I called and turned back to Watt. "Organ harvesting certainly fits with the murders. There seems to be a randomness to the victims, though. The Nephilim, humans, magicians. What's the connection?"
"They all have organs," Watt said with a shrug. "Unfortunately, the Enclave has opted not to put resources toward the investigation."
"Why not? I would think their magic would be useful."
"They're concerned that one of their own may be involved," he replied.
"So they're trying to sweep it under the rug." No rug in the world was big enough to hide that many bodies. "So you're working with the Enclave here?"
"Let's just say it's relevant to my mission. A few of the colonies have had issues with unregistered mages."
"The Enclave's worried about missing out on dues?"
He shook his head. "Control. They can't control the mages they don't know about. There've been a string of crimes being attributed to unregistered mages in several colonies."
All magicians are required to register with their colony's Enclave once their abilities kick in. Some show signs of magical abilities at birth, while others' skills don't develop until their bodies do. If a mage fails to register by his or her eighteenth birthday, he or she risks penalty payments. A late registration might simply result in a monetary fine, but complete failure to register could mean a permanent ban from magic. As far as the Enclave was concerned, a mage without proper training and guidance was bad news for everyone.
"How do they know the perpetrators are unregistered mages? Why not registered ones or even djinn?"
He put a finger to his lips. "I've already shared more than I should have. How about this? I get a hit on your predicament, I let you know and you do the same for me?"
"Deal." I offered my hand and he shook it. "Oh, by the way, if you come across a scian, will you let me know? It's an Irish family heirloom. I'm tracking it down for a client."
"A scian." He nodded approvingly. "That's pretty rare. I hope you find it." He opened the door and vacated the car, taking his groceries with him.
I rolled down the window and glared at Mickey. "Didn't your mother teach you that patience is a virtue?"
"Does he know where the heirloom is?" Mickey asked.
"No, but he's going to keep an eye out. It's the best we can hope for."
"Can you get out of the driver's seat now?" Mickey asked.
"Only if you agree to drive me back to South Street."
Niko smiled. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"
"Yes," I said, climbing into the backseat, "but at least it's a thong ass."
Chapter Twelve
My phone rang at seven o'clock in the morning. What kind of monster calls a person this early? I rolled over in bed and snatched the phone from the bedside table.
"What?" I snarled.
"You sound just as cheerful in the morning as you do in warehouses in the middle of the night."
Captain Angel Face.
I sat up and leaned against the pillow. "Why are you calling me so early?" Or at all.
"A friend of mine mentioned she had an interesting run-in with you the other day."
Did he know Tessa, too?
Yoga was beginning to seem like a colossal mistake.
"I didn't mean to be so tough on her," I said. "It was all that heavy breathing and peace be with you crap. I'm not that enlightened."
He fell silent for a moment. "Funny. Detective Thompson failed to mention that part."
I smacked my forehead. "Detective Thompson?"
"Yes, she said someone matching your description was at the crime scene of another murder." He paused for effect. "Notice I said another murder."
"Yes, your use of adjectives is very clever."
"You're avoiding my point," he said.
"Okay, okay. It was an accident."
"The murder?"
"No, the being there part." I threw back the covers and paced the floor. "I went for a run and stumbled onto the scene. I swear."
"The way you stumbled into the warehouse?"
"You know, saying 'stumble' makes me sound clumsy. I'm not clumsy."
"Why don't you tell me about it over coffee?" he said.
"Because I don't drink coffee." And I definitely don't drink coffee with a Protector.
"Maybe you should start. It might make you less cranky."
Unlikely. "Fine. When and where?"
"Eight o'clock. There's a place in Rittenhouse..."
"No," I said quickly. "Not Rittenhouse."
I could practically feel him smiling. "Making friends in town already?"
"There's a place in Old City," I said. "One block over from The Night Owl."
"I know it."
"Then I'll see you there." I hung up the phone as Farah walked into the room.
"Hot date?" she asked. "And if so, does he have a friend?"
"Not a date and he definitely does not have a friend. He's a Protector."
Her eyes popped. "The one who came here? Captain Steak and Sizzle?"
"The one and only. He heard that I was at yet another crime scene. I'm sure that will fuel his belief I'm somehow involved, meaning he will be less willing to accept my help." And less willing to help me in return. Ugh. I shook my head. "I bet he regrets returning my weapons."
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