Midlife Demon Hunter: The Forty Proof Series, Book 3

by Mayer, Shannon

  I made my way through the basement space until I found his work bench. A single sheet of paper lay on the wooden table. I should have left right then, but I couldn’t help but take a peek at it.

  Flowing script. A very obvious feminine hand had written the words that blurred a little as my eyes watered.

  It wasn’t even hot in there, at least not much. It was as though the words didn’t want me to read them, as strange as that may sound. I squinted. Maybe it was just runny old eyes. I blew out a raspberry and picked the paper up.

  Meet me at the fountain. I must speak with you right away. I miss you.

  K.

  K. Karissa? Most likely. I didn’t think Kinkly could write words that big, even if she had a pen she could hold. Nor did I think Kinkly would say she missed Crash.

  What in the world was the fairy queen up to now? I pushed away the old fear that I wasn’t good enough, that he’d taken one look at my less than perfect body and run the other way.

  I flipped the paper over and scribbled my own message to Crash. Stay away from the house a few days. My job is getting dicey and could bring more trouble. B.

  Not so flowing, not so nice. But the block letters would be hard to miss.

  I left the note and strode out of his basement shop, around the house (with a hand raised to block my line of sight to next door), and into the front yard.

  I looked at Roderick and snapped my fingers. “Now I’m ready to go.”

  17

  Getting to the council was interesting. Let’s start with my dead ex-husband. That was truly my favorite part.

  Alan paced beside the horse and I patted my bag. “Get in.”

  “I won’t fit, are you crazy?” He stared at me like I’d lost my mind, and it was annoying enough that I barely noticed that he was still dripping blood from his neck. Real or not, that probably should have bothered me more.

  I opened the bag with one hand, reached over, and grabbed his ear with the other. Let me tell you, stuffing my dead ex into a bag was truly the highlight of my day. Especially the last bit where I had to put a little more effort into it, and he complained that my bag stunk like funk and seawater.

  That done, I turned and pulled myself onto my horse.

  Roderick said nothing, just raised both eyebrows. “That’s your ex-husband?”

  “You bet.” I grinned up at him.

  Roderick’s mouth quirked. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

  “I didn’t kill him,” I said. “Not that I was ever offered the chance.”

  He mounted behind me on Skel, and handed me a blindfold.

  I rolled my eyes. “What, now we’re in Mission Impossible?”

  “They don’t trust easily. There are those in the shadow world who would wipe out the council and the SCE if they could. The more people who can find us, the weaker we become,” he said.

  Sighing, I put the blindfold on. “You realize that a blindfolded ten-mile walk is totally ridiculous? What would have happened if I didn’t have the horse? Is this your typical way of bringing people in?”

  “Not my idea. No, it’s not typical, and yes, it would have been ridiculous, but even if I agree with you, this is how they wanted it done,” he said.

  “Let me guess, Davin’s idea?” I muttered.

  His grunt confirmed it. Davin really was a dick.

  The ride took just over half an hour with Skel going at top speed. Roderick was quiet, not a word spoken the entire time, and the longer we were galloping along, the more worry pricked at the back of my mind. I knew that Roderick was a council member; I’d seen that for myself.

  But what if he was working for the goblins? What if I’d just let a bad guy kidnap me and use my own skeletal horse to transport me? Jaysus Christmas, what had I gotten myself into?

  By the time I’d come to the conclusion that I might have to fight my way out of this situation, Skel started slowing to a stop. Roderick hopped off first and took my hand, helping me down.

  “Don’t take the blindfold off,” he said. He led me along, and I did all the mental gymnastics I could to figure out where we were.

  My feet were on old-school paving stones, the irregularity of them obvious with each step. The smell was sweet and sugary like candy with a hint of briny water. The river wasn’t far either, I could hear a boat blow its horn. If I hadn’t known better, I’d say were about to go into Death Row, the location of the supernatural market. That wasn’t ten miles away. If I was right, we’d just been riding in circles to pass the time. Tricky buggers.

  I kept my thoughts to myself, and Roderick led me by the wrist through a narrow squeeze of cement walls on either side of me, the rough material scratching at my bare arms and pulling at the leather. Next came a set of wide, slick stairs from the feel of them. I stumbled twice going down, and Roderick caught me both times.

  “Hey, here’s an idea,” I said as we made our way down the stairs. “Why don’t you all use your magic to make a damn elevator?” Stairs going this far down meant stairs going this far up.

  Stairs, why did it have to be stairs?

  My legs and knees were already hurting just at the thought of having to climb up.

  “Because we are trying to remain hidden,” he said. “And flying under the radar means forgoing a few conveniences. Including using human electricians to make an elevator. Memory wipes are never one hundred percent. The mind and the heart are more powerful than any magic, and so taking a memory is not a sure way to keep things a secret. Threats are far better.”

  I bit back my smart-ass comment that if they wanted to remain hidden, they should do so somewhere other than Death Row. But I said nothing. Look at me go, managing to bite my tongue.

  A door creaked open followed by the sound of squeaking hinges and what had to be a heavy wooden frame dragging across the stone floor, and then I was finally allowed to take the blindfold off.

  I blinked a few times and just stared at the room in front of me.

  The floor was a patterned carpet, green with black and white lilies woven throughout it. There was a desk to my left and one to my right, both made with a dark wood that had been heavily and elaborately carved. I stared at the one on my left, seeing skulls and bones, tombstones, and moons, and the same feathers etched into the coin Grimm had given me. That did not assuage any of my fears. The desk to my right was decorated with animals and trees, climbing vines and sunbursts—a much more cheery scene, all in all.

  “When you step between the desks, any glamor or spells you are using will be stripped from you. You can only appear in front of the council naked of any magic.” Roderick stepped between the two desks, and his body shimmered, sparkles flickering over him and wrapping around his hands, which he spread wide as if to show me it didn’t hurt.

  He didn’t change—he didn’t suddenly get shorter and turn into a goblin or get taller and sprout wings. He seemed to have more magic curling around him from the left side, from the desk made up of skulls and such. Interesting, but I didn’t know quite what to do with that information. His magic was intense, and after experiencing it at the Marshall House, I knew it was far from light and fluffy.

  “Your turn,” he said. “Any spell that is on you will be returned to you when you leave.”

  I cleared my throat and stepped forward. The magic between the two desks swept up and around me, bright, pretty sparkles reaching out to me from the right while shadows swirled out from the left.

  I watched as the magic spun around me, circling me as if they didn’t quite know what to do. My bag shook, and Alan was expelled as if the bag puked him up.

  “Where are we?” He clutched at his hat as he turned around. “I don’t like this place.”

  I ignored him and spoke to Roderick. “Maybe I don’t fit into either category.”

  Roderick shook his head. “This isn’t about having one kind of magic. It’s about stripping you of anything you’d hide from us.”

  Well, that explained why Alan had been barfed out of my bag.
/>   I spread my hands wide and the magic circled around them, settling into my palms before dispersing back to the desks.

  Roderick just stared at me. “You look a little different, but not much. The glamor was slight, and it was old. A spell from a long time ago. Perhaps from Celia?”

  I shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I didn’t do anything to hide from anyone.”

  He turned his back on me and snapped his fingers. The air in front of him shimmered and the room opened as if a curtain had been lifted.

  Thirteen desks circled a room much larger than it had looked, and a male in a long dark cloak sat behind each one. Not a single woman on the council, but really, was that any surprise?

  “Bunch of peeping Toms,” I said, not caring they could hear me.

  Roderick left me there and went to sit where an open desk awaited him. Six to the left, six to the right, and one smack dab in the center, facing me from across the room.

  I kept my eyes on that one. Long gray hair flowed down over his shoulders, offsetting the dark robe. He had a long white beard that was braided into two pieces, bright bits of jewels and metal woven into those strands. His eyes were dark, and I don’t mean dark brown. I mean dark as in black, bottomless eyes.

  “At least they aren’t pink,” I muttered, and I felt the room stiffen around me. “Oh, get over yourselves. You know I dealt with the O’Seans. Which, by the way, you’re welcome for.”

  To my right, closer to the thirteenth seat, sat Davin smirking at me, though his face was paler than usual. A glimmer in the air behind him materialized into the Silver Lady, who tipped her head toward me.

  I couldn’t help giving her a wave. She dropped a hand onto his shoulder and his smirk faded as his skin color turned a sickly green, and then she sunk back into him. Interesting that she hadn’t been kicked out of him by those spells at the entrance. Or maybe she had been, and she’d gone back?

  Alan left my side and hurried to stand beside Davin.

  “Davin, you have to help me. I’ve been stuck with her all day. I think that last spell didn’t work so well.” Alan leaned in close to touch Davin on the shoulder.

  One of the council members to my left shifted in his seat, his eyes going from Alan to Davin and then to me. I gave him a tight nod. So that had to be one of the necromancers.

  I pointed a finger at the green-faced, baggy-eyed Davin. “You and I are going to have a chat after this, boy.”

  Again, muttering and stiffening. Gawd save me from misogynistic men standing on empty formalities in an attempt to put me in my place. “Look, you all brought me here, made me walk between your magic desks so you could see that I am not the devil . . .” A series of gasps went up as if they were scandalized Victorians clutching at their fake pearls. “What exactly do you want from me?”

  The man at the center desk slowly stood. His eyes flicked over me as if inspecting a newly discovered creature. “You have left the Hollows Group, correct?”

  “Well, to be fair, they kicked me out.” I smiled as they muttered to each other. They clearly hadn’t known that little tidbit.

  Oh, I was going to make the best of this. Maybe it was the residual whiskey in my veins, maybe it was the fact that these boys didn’t know who they were playing with, but I was almost having fun. What a bunch of grumpy old fuddy-duddies.

  Alan shook his head. “I know that look. Don’t start a fight, Bree.”

  “You shut your mouth.” I pointed at him, but it looked like I was pointing at Davin. Fine by me.

  Davin growled and the necromancer to my left cleared his throat. “She has a ghost with her who is standing near Davin, that’s who she is speaking with.”

  A chorus of grunts went through the room.

  The old guy in the center raised his hand, and they all went silent. “You carry a ghost with you?”

  “And an animated skeleton usually, but Robert is currently passed out under the oak tree. We were drinking together, and you know how it goes with whiskey.” I shrugged and made a glug-glug motion with my thumb to my mouth and pinky finger in the air.

  Roderick looked as though he was fighting a smile. He was the only one. The necromancer watched me closely. “Why is it that you need to speak with Davin alone?”

  All I could think was . . . game on. I did a slow turn toward the necromancer. “You can see my ex-husband?”

  He nodded. “I can.”

  “And could you make him tell the truth if he tried to lie?” Based on Gran’s book, that was the deal with necros. They could manipulate the dead fully, forcing them to speak. I’d never had such luck—just look at Gran’s silent treatment of late—which meant no necromancer abilities for me, despite my affinity with Robert and other ghosts. Despite whatever connection my father had with the dead. And I’d never seen Louis, the Hollows teacher, do more than say he could talk to the dead.

  “You think the ghost would lie?” the necromancer asked.

  I grinned. “Like a ducking snake.”

  Alan spluttered. “I’m a lawyer. I uphold—”

  The necromancer waved a hand at him. I turned in time to see Alan’s jaw snap shut. Oh, this was going to be fun.

  If it was possible, Davin looked paler than before, and he swallowed hard before speaking. “I don’t think we should let her talk. How do we know she won’t lie? She fought Roderick when he tried to force her to tell us what she was doing in the Marshall House.”

  All the members of the council looked to Roderick, and I took a deep breath in that moment of respite.

  “She is part fae,” Roderick said softly, placing his hands on his desk, palms down. “You have but to bind her to her word for the duration of this meeting, and she will not be able to lie.”

  I spread my hands out to my sides. “I’m game. But let’s be very honest before we start—some of you aren’t going to like what I have to say. Especially Davin. I mean, I’m assuming you have rules about how you can use your magic as council members?” That was a guess, but by the series of nods that went around the room, I’d hit the nail on the head.

  Damn it, I should have asked for a meeting with the council sooner.

  I put my hands to my mouth and blew Davin a double kiss. He jumped up, red-faced. But Roderick was already moving toward me, his hands glowing with the same magic that had pinned me down in the Marshall House. Damn it, I should have thought this through. That had been uncomfortable at best.

  “If you don’t fight it, then it won’t hurt,” he said, no doubt seeing me tense.

  I nodded. “Sure thing, Rod.”

  The necromancer’s mouth quirked up on one side. “She is very much like Celia in some ways.”

  I tipped my head toward him. “Thank you.”

  “But very different in others. She has strengths Celia did not,” Roderick chimed in as his magic swept around me, stealing my breath.

  The necromancer stood. “My name is Jacob. What is it that you wished to speak with Davin about?”

  The words were already there, eager to come out, but I worked them into the best order I could. “Davin helped my ex-husband manipulate the human court system so that Alan—that’s the ghost over there—could foist all the accrued family debt and then some onto me, take both our house in Seattle and my gran’s house, and leave me penniless and alone. But”—I held up a finger—“Davin and Alan didn’t count on me figuring out their little connection. Then Alan over there broke into my house and tried to steal not only my gran’s amazing spell book that everybody and their dog wants to get their hands on, but also a talisman that my gran left me.

  “And now, as you can see, poor Alan over there had his throat ripped out by an animal. Which I highly doubt was a real animal—more likely it was a shifter, or maybe a goblin, but I don’t doubt it was directly due to his connection to Davin.” I drew in a big breath, Roderick’s magic in me humming along. “But again, let’s be honest here, gentlemen, Alan couldn’t see a good thing if it kicked him in the ass. I mean, he threw me away like I was nothing but
a piece of garbage. Like I was worthless.”

  “You are worthless,” Alan yelled across the room. “A worthless, no good—”

  Jacob snapped his fingers, and Alan’s mouth snapped shut. I really didn’t want to like any of these councilmen, but Jacob was moving up the ranks in that department. “I did not give you permission to speak, ex-husband of Breena.”

  Alan’s face twisted with a fury I knew all too well. Whenever I’d disagreed with him or proven him wrong in a public setting (no matter how politely), he would lose his marbles on me as soon as we got home. Tell me that I was undermining him and making him look bad—something he would never do to me in front of others.

  Not that he hesitated to do it the moment we were alone. Although what was there to badmouth? I’d cooked and cleaned for him; I’d made the money that had paid our bills while he went to school. I’d been more than happy to have sex with him whenever he wanted. All of that, and I still hadn’t been good enough for him.

  That old wound in me cracked open a little, and I hated the insecurity that leaked through it.

  “Is there anything else that you’d like to say?” Jacob asked. It struck me that he had taken charge, not the man in the center of the room, whom I’d assumed was the head honcho.

  I lifted my head, barely realizing that I’d lowered it. “Well, did you know that Davin had Sarge and Corb from the Hollows Group playing double agents with Hattie’s crew? Or that the O’Seans were only one of five groups trying to take over Savannah? Or how about that Missy is still a royal pain in my ass? That the goblins are acting up? That there is a damn demon in the house next door to my gran’s?” I shuddered, feeling the urge to spill the beans about Crash. That one wasn’t necessary, but my lips quirked upward anyway. “You want to hear about my sex life too?”

  Alan shot forward. “I saw you with that man, and that is entirely ridiculous. He looks like a troll! It’s embarrassing to me that you would lower yourself by carrying on with such a freakshow.” He blinked and shook his head, staring hard at me. “You aren’t this pretty. Did you get work done?”