Or maybe he’s just planning something worse.
After Javy finishes the story, I’m quiet. Ella snores quietly on the couch nearby with her paws in the air. Then I finally say, “Why not just kill Marius?”
“It’s proven beyond my ability.”
“And the other Immortals can’t help?”
Javy grimaces, the question temporarily piercing his omnipresent cool. “A story for another time.”
“And the other Shades?”
“They’re of no concern until they reveal themselves,” Javy says.
“Uh, I’m concerned.”
“They don’t get along,” Javy says. “Chaos is far too combustible to form an allegiance for long.”
“If you say so.” But I’m skeptical. And it’s not due to any lingering effects of the Liar’s Keystone. My usually unflappable partner here seems genuinely thrown by Marius’s reappearance. “So what’s our next move? Track him down?”
“I doubt he’ll be hard to find.”
“So then we trap his ass and this time send him to space or something.” When Javy raises an eyebrow, I add defensively, “Hey, just spitballing here.”
“Marius might’ve already set something in motion.”
“Doesn’t really sound like much of a planner,” I say.
“If he didn’t murder everyone in the Red Whale and burn the place to its foundations, then he’s changed enough.”
“You sure?”
Javy shakes his head, sure of nothing. “We work the case and see where it leads.”
“Then I’m thinking Emmy is our best bet,” I say. “Figure out why he wants her, crack this thing wide open.”
“Read this first.” Javy pulls a manilla folder off the coffee table and tosses it to me.
I start flipping through Delia Wolfheart’s murder case file. It’s surprisingly thin, given the high-profile nature of the investigation. Sure, Emmy was always the A-side to the three-headed social media Hydra that was her, Delia, and Stacey. No one would dispute that. But Delia was still majorly famous. And what I’m seeing here reeks of basically zero effort.
It’s extra shocking considering that the now ex-Captain Stella Reynolds was always hyper-focused on climbing the social ladder. Cracking this case would’ve been a career-maker that could have catapulted her past years of oily backroom politics and handshake deals.
I reach the end in about three minutes and cock my head at Javy. “Is this really it?”
“That’s everything in the system, yeah.”
I shake the folder. The two or three dozen papers crinkle. “Pretty flimsy.”
“You remember that case. Huge media storm, then nothing.”
“It was weird how it dropped off the radar into a black hole,” I say. “You think Reynolds buried it?”
“Definitely a possibility,” Javy says. “You know what else I’ve been thinking about?”
“Hit me.”
“Who actually told Marius you were a Soulwalker.”
“I’ve got an idea,” I say.
Javy says, “Our old captain?”
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
“Then you start with a visit to the county jail.” Javy gets up off the couch and heads toward the front door. “Tomorrow morning.”
“Thought that’d be a we thing.”
“You’ve got it covered.”
“And what about you?”
Javy just offers me a cryptic smile. “I have a little bit of digging of my own to do.”
Eleven
After a dreamless night, I wake up refreshed just as the sun is beginning to peek through the half-drawn shades. Ella is already awake, her snout resting on the mattress, inches from my face.
“Well, that’s not creepy.” I scratch her ears.
I heard something from our apartment.
It takes me a minute to realize that she doesn’t mean this apartment. She’s been here long enough that it feels like she’s always been part of my life. Which is technically true. Toby got her as a puppy.
But it’s different when I’m the one responsible for her.
I shake off the remaining fog of sleep and sit upright in the bed. “When?”
She nuzzles my thigh, eager to investigate. Twenty minutes ago.
I roll over and check my phone on the nightstand. No new texts or calls from Toby. The last one was about a week ago—cryptic, simply saying I’m going to be a little while longer.
“I’m not seeing anything from him, El.”
Can we go knock on the door? She whines and headbutts my knee.
“Just let me take a shower.” If Toby’s home, then he’s probably jet-lagged, anyway, and doesn’t need us barging in immediately.
Ella growls her disapproval, but lets me get up from the bed and head into the bathroom.
I get in the shower and turn the knob. The water pours through my hair, carrying away the sweat and memories of last night.
In the moment, everything moves fast. No time to process. All you can do is react. But beneath the whistling showerhead, shrouded in the steamy mist, the gravity of the situation settles on my shoulders.
A couple weeks ago, I didn’t really know what I was doing when I looked Javy in the eye, in this very apartment, and committed to this path. I thought it was just the cases: choosing better ones. Making the town a better place. Little did I realize I had entered an ongoing battle with no start and no end.
My forearm turns pink from scrubbing too hard. I stop and exhale as I lean my elbows against the ceramic tile. Water pelts my back until the steam dissipates and the droplets turn cold.
I try to stay in this moment as long as I can.
Until I’m interrupted by a barking dog.
I groan, brought back to reality and the host of problems on my plate. Finding out what happened to Emmy and Delia. Figuring out what Marius is planning.
And, in the immediate future, knocking on Toby’s door to see what the hell Ella is talking about.
I shake the last remaining suds from my toes before I step out of the shower. My phone rings, and I stumble into the bedroom without a towel.
Ella’s unblinking gaze tracks me every step of the way.
“Stop looking, weirdo.”
She doesn’t avert her eyes. Dogs, right? I tap the phone’s screen. It’s Finn.
I swipe my still dripping finger across the bottom to answer and say, “You’re on speaker.”
His voice is cagey. “Anyone else in the room?”
“No.” Ella growls loudly in protest, so I add, “One annoying dog.”
“You see what went down this morning?”
“Nope.” I grab the blanket and use it to start drying off. “Just woke up.”
“Turn on the TV.”
“Or you could give me the executive summary.” I toss the phone into the middle of the rumpled sheets and then grab a pair of jeans from the closet. The denim sticks to my damp legs, but I manage to pull them on.
“And spoil the surprise?”
“Finn.”
“Fine, fine,” he says. “Hex Davis is offering a fifty-million-dollar reward for his daughter’s return.”
If I’d been holding the phone, I might’ve dropped it. As it is, I just freeze, t-shirt halfway over my head.
Here Javy and I had thought that Marius was playing the long game. Being patient.
But this is the exact opposite. And, judging from Marius’s history, very on-brand. If chaos is what he wants, it’s what he’ll get. Every two-bit bounty hunter and PI in America is about to descend on Ragnarok like a plague of morally bankrupt locusts.
When I don’t answer Finn says, “You still there?”
“Sorry, still processing.”
“Yeah, it was crazy.” Finn whistles. “He just rode in and made the announcement.”
I finish putting on my shirt and start searching for my boots. “Define rode in.”
Finn clears his throat. “This is why I told you to watch the news.”
“Paint me a word picture, Casanova.”
“I dunno. Dropped off by his chauffeur in front of the Red Whale. Made the announcement right in front of all those paparazzi that always hang around outside.”
My boots are nowhere to be found, so I grab the phone, take it off speaker, and put it up to my ear as I head out to the living room. “Sounds like Marius has an angle.”
“Marius?”
“Long story,” I say.
“Sounds like one I need to hear,” Finn says.
“When we meet up later.” I glance back at Ella, who’s following me around the apartment like a lost puppy. “I gotta do something for the dog first.”
“Okay, then at eleven? Silver Stallion?”
I roll my eyes. “She’s not going to sleep with you, Finn.”
“I like the turkey club,” he says with mock offense that might be partially real.
“No one likes any of their food,” I say. “The waitstaff, on the other hand…”
“I mean, the food is pretty good.” His voice goes up an octave as he tries to play it off. Probably the first girl who’s ever rejected him.
“Yeah, yeah, buddy,” I say. “See you there in a couple hours.”
The call ends, and I look over at Ella, who’s standing by her water dish with saucer-wide eyes. “You know where my boots are?”
She bounds to the front door, then returns with one boot and drops it in front of me. I nod, somewhat sheepish. “In my defense, I had a fucking weird night.”
But she’s already scurrying to retrieve the other one.
Boots firmly on my feet, I leave my door cracked as I head into the tight hall. Ella is by my side, tail thumping in anxious anticipation. There are only three doors on this floor: mine, Toby’s, and a new tenant who just moved in the other week.
Haven’t met him yet.
I raise my arm to knock. “All right, let’s see what…”
I don’t complete the action.
Ella ears prick up.
In a low voice, I say, “I forgot my key in my apartment. Let’s go get that first.”
What I really mean is I need to get my gun.
Because droplets of blood adorn the doorknob.
She howls, her patience already stretched beyond its breaking point.
“Shh.” I try to calm her by patting her head.
But it’s too late.
Something crashes inside Toby’s apartment. Whoever’s in there knows that we’re out here.
Ella growls.
“You’re really not being helpful, you know that?” I sigh as I rear back.
Then I deliver a sharp kick next to the knob. The old wood buckles inward.
A window shatters inside Toby’s apartment.
I kick again and the door caves in.
Ella races in, growling and howling up a storm.
I’m behind her, rushing unarmed into God knows what.
But I find out soon enough.
Because Ella has a man by his baggy pant leg, and she’s dragging him into the center of the room.
He rolls over, trying to shake loose from her hold, and I recognize him.
It’s Toby’s brother, Silas.
Twelve
“Silas?” I furrow my eyebrows at the large, bald-headed man writhing on the hardwood, unable to free himself from Ella’s strong jaws.
“Ow, Ella, come on,” he says.
Ella, for her part, does not let go, even though she’s met Silas plenty of times.
That’s exactly why she doesn’t let go, actually. Silas might be family, but he’s also a total deadbeat who’s bummed money off Toby for years. The one time Silas watched Ella, he left her alone for four days while he took an extended weekend in Vegas.
That was the last time Toby and Silas spoke—over five years ago.
“All right, El, let this jackass go,” I say.
The husky gives his leg a final shake, then reluctantly relaxes her jaws.
Silas rolls onto his back and rubs his calf. “If I’d known the SWAT team was gonna charge in, I’d have worn my bulletproof vest.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t grab my gun.” I don’t offer assistance as he continues to grimace in discomfort. “What the hell are you doing here, Silas?”
“Could say the same to you, Tess.”
“I live here.”
“Next door,” Silas says. “You’re breaking and entering.”
“Pot, meet kettle.” I navigate past a broken vase—that must’ve been the crash I heard while we were out in the hallway—and kneel beside him. As for the blood on the knob, I can see that he has a small cut on his hand that doesn’t look like it’s from Ella’s teeth. Idiot probably injured himself picking the lock.
“It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” He grins, but I’ve seen too many lies slip from his lips to believe that this is a friendly visit.
“Or maybe it’s exactly what it looks like.” I bend over and start patting him down, beginning my search with his oversized polo shirt from the discount clearance rack.
“Hey—what—you can’t do that!” He grabs my wrist. Ella growls and takes a step closer.
He immediately lets go and goes limp, allowing me to continue without further interruption.
I extract a thick wad of bills from the back pocket of his baggy pants. A familiar gold clip shimmers in the light as I wave it in front of his ruddy face.
“This is a sizable amount of cash, Silas.”
“Had a good run at the tables last night.” His poker face is not super convincing.
“You see this?” I tap the golden money clip. “It’s what Toby uses for his emergency fund.”
“Bullshit. Like he’d tell you about that.”
“He told me when I was twelve years old,” I say. “Because he let me use it to buy ice cream.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Silas rubs his leg and winces. Small spots of blood have seeped through his pants, staining the fabric. “That dog better have all its goddamn shots.”
Ella curls her lip, offended by the insinuation that she’s the unclean one in this equation.
“She’ll probably need a couple shots just from touching you,” I say.
Ella wags her tail for a moment, then cocks her head as if to say wait, I have to go to the vet?
“Been real nice seeing you, Tess.” He plants his palms against the hardwood like he’s ready to get up and leave.
“We’re still talking.” I bat him on the nose with the wad of cash before I stand up. “Otherwise I might let her finish the job.”
He stays on the floor, glowering. “You wouldn’t.”
“Depends on my mood.” I nod at Ella, who bounds forward and lightly nips him on the finger.
“Ow, fuck, all right!” Silas kicks, but Ella slips the blow like a trained fighter. “Just keep that bitch away from me.”
“No promises.” I snap my fingers and Ella retreats to her dog bed in the corner of the apartment.
Silas crawls over to the couch. Breathing heavily, Silas manages to prop his large frame against the leather. He wipes his brow and says, “You got some water?”
“I’ve got an angry dog and a lot of questions.” I fold my arms and tap my boot. “Better start talking.”
Silas peers up at me like he’s trying to figure out whether I’m bluffing. Someone with his gambling record shouldn’t even bother—he has no feel for reading people. But that’s the degenerate’s curse: thinking you have skills that you don’t actually possess.
And right now, he’s thinking he can play me. “I don’t have to explain anything to you, Tess.”
“Is that so, tough guy?”
“That’s right. This is my brother’s place, and he invited me here to stay, and I can stay.” He pushes himself up, seemingly emboldened by his own hollow words. “And if you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops.”
“Interesting.” I glance over at Ella, who looks irate—or as angry as a husky sitting quietly with her head down can.
“What do you think about that, El?”
She unleashes a rumbling growl that shakes the floorboards.
“I believe she said you’re full of shit.”
“And I say if she bites me again, I call animal control and she takes a permanent nap.”
Out of all the assholes I’ve encountered recently, he’s a special breed. Not clever or dangerous enough to be impressively evil—but a malignant net negative in the game of life all the same.
“Maybe we have you take a permanent nap out that window.” I point behind him, where the morning sun is streaming through the dirt-streaked glass.
He snorts. “Yeah, sure.”
“Threaten the dog again and find out.”
“I’ll take her little throat and—”
My boot connects with his fleshy jaw, sending a tooth bouncing across the floor. His nose smashes against the hardwood.
I reach down and pick up the tooth. Hold it in front of him as he moans in agony.
“More where that came from,” I say.
“You—”
“Choose your next words wisely.”
His nose wrinkles, and he bites his lip. Finally, Silas says, “I heard Toby was away and decided to borrow some cash.”
“Is that it?”
“Swear.”
I press my boot on his hand. “Think a little harder.”
Silas looks warily at my foot and says, “You saw the cash.”
I put about half my weight down. “I did.”
“Ow, come on, get off—” I lean forward even more. “—fine, fine, damnit, just get up!”
I slide my boot away instead of picking it up so that his bones grind against the floorboards. “You were saying?”
He clutches his fingers with his other hand. “You broke my goddamn hand!”
“Should’ve been nicer to the dog.”
“It’s just a fucking dog.”
“Anyway, the real reason you’re here.” When Silas just glowers in silent defiance, not offering an explanation, I add, “It’s worth considering that you do have another hand.”
“Toby has a s-safe deposit box.” The words are halting. Silas seems like he’s on the verge of tears. “I was looking for the key.”
“Zero chance he’d tell you about something like that.”
Smoke Show (Tess Skye Book 2) Page 5
