by Jaye Wells
“Does A Morte supply to any of the Cauldron’s covens?” Morales asked me.
“As far as I know, Uncle Abe only used Canadian suppliers,” I said, “which means all the other coven leaders would have, too.”
“Do you know why he preferred the Canadians?” Gardner asked.
I shook my head.
“Maybe with Abe in prison someone decided to switch up the supply chain,” Mez offered.
I shrugged. “It’s possible but not probable. Charm was loyal to Abe so he wouldn’t do something like that without permission.”
“But the Votary crews fractured after Abe went to prison, right?” Morales said. “Maybe someone decided a new supplier would give them a leg up on the competition.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But I also don’t get why this panther guy would go after Harry Bane.”
“Right,” Morales said. “He tried so hard to make it appear as if Harry killed Charm.”
“If Souza’s goal is to start a coven war,” Mez said, “Harry’s death would look like a retaliatory hit by the Votaries for Charm’s death.”
“The guy who got away when the dog attacked me was definitely Votary,” I said. “He had alchemical tattoos all over his arms. But he didn’t have an Ouroboros that would indicate he was a made member. I’m wondering if he was the same guy Hot Pocket saw with the Panther at the church.”
“So you’re thinking an ambitious Votary wiz went in league with A Morte to kill Charm and then helped try to knock Harry out of the game, too?” Mez asked.
“It’s just a theory,” I said. “But I don’t get what A Morte would gain by manipulating a coven war.”
“It’s possible Harry Bane and Charm refused to work with the Brazilians,” Morales said. “So Souza decided to remove them from the picture altogether.”
We all fell silent for a moment as the implications settled in. Finally, Morales blew out a long breath. “Okay, so what’s our next move?”
“Start with the Votaries. See if you can find out who was playing wingman to the Pantera today.”
“We should drop in to see the Wonder Twins,” I said, referring to my favorite snitches. “Maybe they’ve heard something.”
“Good plan,” Gardner said. Her tone seemed slightly less tense now that we were working on a plan. “Keep in touch with Shadi, too. I want you two there when Harry Bane wakes up.”
Once Morales and I nodded, she turned to Mez. “Stay with the potion angle. Now that Eldritch has handed the case over, you should be able to get all the lab reports and samples from Val. Maybe something in the potion can tie Hector Souza to Charm’s death.”
Mez rose and nodded. “The BPD labs are notoriously slow, but once I have the sample back here I should be able to break it down fairly quickly. Then I could get to work on trying to figure out how this guy zapped out of here.”
“All right,” Gardner said. “I don’t need to remind any of you how serious this situation is. We already have two murders and one attempted murder tied to this case. We need to find Pantera before he creates any more chaos.”
She didn’t mention the pressure the MEA would now put on her because of the A Morte connection, but she didn’t need to. We all knew the stakes.
We all rose to get busy, but Gardner called out, “Prospero—a word in my office?”
My stomach dropped. Morales shot me a curious look, but I shook my head since I had no idea why I was getting called to the office. All I knew was those invitations rarely involved good news. With my mind scrambling to figure out how I’d screwed up this time, I climbed down from the boxing ring and followed her to the cramped room.
The door had barely clicked shut behind me when she rounded on me. “You got anything you want to tell me?”
I tilted my head and eyed her. Without any hints to go on, I jumped on the first thing I could think of that might have pissed her off. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about running into Volos, but I swear I didn’t ask him to call Eldritch—”
“Not that.” She waved a hand. “I assume Volos has his own reasons for interceding on our behalf. Until those motivations are revealed, I’m just going to focus on solving the case without losing any more lives.”
I frowned but nodded. “Good. So what did you call me in here for?”
She crossed her arms. “You get any calls from the media lately?”
Taken off guard, I spoke slowly. “Yeah, actually. This reporter was with Volos this morning and I guess she decided I’d make a good story. She called right before we spoke at Danny’s school to propose an interview.”
Gardner sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I can’t believe she called you directly. She called this morning right after you left to see Aphrodite. I told her it was out of the question.”
“That’s what I said, too. I can’t believe she called me after you said no. She seemed confident she could talk you into agreeing.”
“Reporters are a particularly aggressive form of parasite.”
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “For the record, even if you had agreed I would have refused.”
Gardner pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and steepled her fingers. “You’re telling me that you’d defy a direct order?”
I nodded. “When it comes to inviting a camera into my private life, yes, sir.”
She nodded. “I’ll be sure to make a note.” She looked back at her laptop. “Guess it’s a good thing our policies forbid such a thing.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
She looked up. “Is there something else?”
I blew out a breath. “I guess not.”
“Good. I really need your head in the game right now.” She sighed and rubbed her mouth with her left hand. The shadows behind her eyes were no wonder given her personal history with A Morte.
I stepped forward. “Sir, I promise we’ll get this asshole.” I didn’t mention the past because I knew she wouldn’t want to discuss it. Nevertheless, she seemed to accept the unspoken support I was offering.
“Don’t just promise, Prospero. Make it happen.”
I stood straighter. “Absolutely.”
“Go on, then.”
When I came out of the office, Morales was pacing near the desks. “What was that about?”
I shook my head. “I’ll tell you later. You ready to go see Little Man and Mary?”
He sighed and threw his newspaper on the desk. “I need to hit the ATM first.”
Chapter Twelve
Normally, our favorite snitches received us in a run-down park near one of the abandoned steel factories. But since this March had been colder than snowman’s taint, they’d moved their operation indoors to an apothecary.
Morales glanced at the sign over the door and raised a brow. “Black Cat Commissary?”
“Think it’s an omen?” I said in a dramatic tone. Truth was, the name was a coincidence. I’d been to this place months earlier to meet with our informants about the Dionysus case. He was shooting me a questioning look, so I playfully nudged his shoulder. “I’m joking. Not everything is portentous—even in a magical slum.”
When we walked in, a bell rang over the glass door. The guy who ran the apothecary was measuring out some sort of blue powder onto a scale. He looked up and frowned, as if he knew we wouldn’t be buying anything. “They’re in the back.”
I nodded my thanks and continued farther into the store. Behind the counter, a long mirror was lined with shelves bearing containers of powder, herbs, and oddities, like chicken feet and dried animal eyeballs. The rest of the store was filled with shelves bearing sundries and homeopathic remedies. I’d never checked the storeroom, though I was pretty sure our friend behind the counter had a sideline of selling illegal potion ingredients. But we weren’t there to harass black-market potion peddlers. We’d come for information.
Next to the set of stairs leading to the second-floor apartments, a raised platform held an old-timey shoeshine stand. A tank of a woman spilled over the edges of the
chair. She wore a man-sized white T-shirt with yellow pit stains and polyester plaid pants that looked straight out of a Goodwill bin. Her lanky brown hair was pushed behind her ears like an inconvenience. The tiny being strapped face-out in a baby carrier on her chest was asleep.
“Hey, Mary,” I said.
“Hi, Lady,” Mary said, her voice thick. She looked at Morales and waved. “Mister Man.”
Over the last few months, Mary had become more accustomed to Morales, so he’d been deemed trustworthy enough to deserve his own nickname. “What’s happening, Mary?” Morales said, grinning at her.
“Baby sleeping,” she whispered. With a large hand, she gently patted Little Man’s belly.
“Any chance he’s waking up soon?” I whispered back. “We’re kind of in a hurry.”
“You inconsiderate assholes are always in a hurry.” Little Man’s eyes stayed closed. “Why’s today any different?”
“You know why we’re here?” I asked.
A tiny lid opened. “Charm?”
I nodded.
“I’m pretty tired today, Prospero.” His rosebud mouth opened into a broad yawn. “I’m gonna need some help waking up.”
I shot a look at Morales, who rolled his eyes and removed his wallet. He took out a twenty and waved it under Little Man’s nose. “How’s that?”
The homunculus’s eyes popped open. His tiny hand snatched the money out of Morales’s palm and had it hidden in his diaper before either of us could blink. He smacked his rosebud lips and stretched like a kitten. “I’m suddenly feeling ready to take on the day.”
“Glad to hear it,” Morales said. “Now, about Charm…”
Little Man sat up a little straighter in the carrier, leaving an elbow against Mary’s flat chest. “That’s some bad juju there.”
“What’s the word?”
Little Man nodded. “Votaries think it was Bane.” He sighed. “But I don’t know.” He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Something don’t feel right about that.”
“True enough,” I said. “Some asshole beat the shit out of Harry this afternoon. Would have killed him if we hadn’t interrupted.”
“Revenge?” LM asked, raising a single hairless brow.
I shook my head. “We don’t think so.”
The other brow rose to match the first. “Interesting.” The homunculus crossed his arms.
“Has there been any chatter about one of Charm’s lieutenants wanting to climb the ranks?” Morales asked.
Little Man shrugged. “There’s always chatter about motherfuckers wanting a bigger piece of the pie. I wouldn’t rule it out.”
“You got a name?”
LM rubbed his chin with his tiny hand. “Nothing specific. But I did hear something. The Votaries are holding a memorial for Charm tomorrow.”
My brows rose. “Really? Where?”
“The Red Horse. You know it?”
I nodded and explained for Morales. “It’s a bar favored by a Votary crew led by a real pain in the ass named Puck.”
“If it were me, I’d stop by and see if anyone’s acting like the new cock of the walk.” LM waggled the skin where his eyebrows would have been if he’d had any hair.
“Wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Morales said.
I snorted. “Hell yes, it would be a bad idea. I used to belong to that coven, remember? Walking in there with a badge on my hip is like begging for a beating.”
Unfazed, Morales pursed his lips. “Or they’ll be so shocked by your balls they’ll let something slip.”
I sighed. “We’ll talk about it later.” I turned back to LM, who’d been watching the exchange with his chin in his tiny hand and a rapt expression on his face. “What about Aphrodite?” I asked him. “Any chance s/he’s wrapped up in this mess?”
LM laughed. “Please, the he-bitch don’t leave bodies behind. You know that.”
Morales and I exchanged a glance. It was true enough from what we knew of the Hierophant of the O Coven.
“Either way, this city’s in for some shit.”
“That’s what we’re afraid of,” I said.
“You better shake a leg, then, Prospero. Because some people in the Cauldron been waiting for an excuse to unleash for years.”
“You heard anything about a new player coming in from the outside?” I asked carefully.
Little Man frowned. “Like who?”
I shrugged. “Just covering our bases.” I didn’t want to mention A Morte to LM. If he didn’t know about the threat, I didn’t want to be the one responsible for him spreading the news.
“I ain’t heard anything about a new wiz. Hell, we got enough assholes who are already in play.”
“All right.” I sighed. “I trust you’ll call us if you hear anything we can use, right?”
Little Man nodded. “Of course, but I doubt I’ll be hearing much.”
“Why not?” Morales asked.
“Ain’t you been listening, Macho? War’s coming. Only an idiot would be on the streets. Mary and I are gonna hide out in our apartment till the smoke clears.”
“Regardless,” Morales said, “call us if you hear anything.” He pulled another twenty out of his pocket.
Little Man’s eyes widened. So did mine. My partner wasn’t usually so generous with the payoffs.
“Shit, Macho, for that I’d do a hell of a lot more than call you.” The homunculus pursed his lips and made a kissy noise.
“Keep it in your diaper, Pinkie Dick.”
Little Man threw back his bald head and laughed. “Oh man, it’s good to see you guys. Watch your asses out there, okay? We worry.”
More like they worried about the prospect of losing the extra income, but it was still nice of him to pretend he cared. “See ya around, Little Man. Bye, Mary.”
“Bye-bye, Lady and Mister Man.”
We turned to go, but before we took three steps Morales’s phone buzzed.
“It’s Shadi.” He answered and listened for a couple of moments. “See you in an hour,” he said finally.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I’m gonna go relieve her at the hospital. She’s gotta go get her kid.”
I froze midstep. “Shadi’s got a kid?”
Morales shot me a confused look. “Of course.”
“But I thought she was—you know.”
He laughed. “What? Lesbians have kids, too, Cupcake.”
“Single,” I corrected. He raised a pointed brow as if to remind me I was single and raising a kid.
“You know what I mean.” My cheeks heated. “She’s never mentioned a kid.”
He shrugged and pushed the door open to let me step onto the sidewalk. “Shadi doesn’t talk about her personal life much.”
“How old is the kid?”
“Four. Shadi and her former partner split when Kesha was a baby.”
“Wow,” I said. “I still can’t believe it. She never takes time off.”
“Her mom lives with them and helps out, but she had something else going on this afternoon so Shadi can’t hang out at the hospital.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. I was still trying to absorb the idea that Shadi and I had a lot more in common than I had thought. I looked at my watch and realized it was already after six. “I need to call Pen and tell her I can’t meet up with her tonight.”
He clicked the button to unlock the SUV. “Shadi said Harry’s still totally out. Why don’t you head home and I’ll call if he wakes up?”
I paused with my hand on my door. “Are you sure?”
He shrugged. “There’s no point in both of us sitting around the hospital. I’ll drop you at your car.”
That decided, we hopped in the car. On the way, I called Pen and told her to bring extra beer. I had a lot to discuss with my best friend after the fucked-up day I’d had.
Chapter Thirteen
Two hours after Morales dropped me at my car, I was sitting at my kitchen table with Pen. Since it was too cold to sit on my back patio lik
e we usually did, we claimed the kitchen table. Luckily, Danny had a ton of homework so he’d locked himself in his basement bedroom to work, which meant we could talk without censoring ourselves for his sixteen-year-old ears.
Pen’s dark-brown hair was pulled back into a bun. Before coming over, she’d changed into comfy yoga pants and a pink sweatshirt that made her brown skin glow. Pen was petite in stature, but she had a personality that belonged in a much larger body. Even her laugh was robust—the kind that came from deep in the belly and was released with abandon. I’d missed that laugh over the last couple of months, and the chance to catch up and joke over a couple of beers was just what the doctor ordered after my shitty day.
Pen took a sip from her beer and leaned back in the chair. “Tough day?” I asked. Pen was the counselor at Danny’s school. I’d tried to stop by and say hi after we’d finished our talk with DUDE, but she’d been meeting with a student.
She laughed and nodded to the ice pack on my ankle. “It was nowhere near as exciting as yours.” I’d already filled her in on the altercation at Harry’s junkyard after she’d taken one look at my swollen ankle and demanded details.
I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure dealing with spoiled teenagers every day feels a lot like getting mauled by rabid dogs.”
“No shit,” she said. “Although to be fair, it’s usually the parents who are foaming at the mouth when little Muffy and Preston get suspended for 69ing in the girls’ locker room.”
I snorted. “Is that what happened today?”
She shook her head. “Nah, that was last week. Today—” She sighed. “Today, a girl came into my office claiming she’d been raped.”
The air in the kitchen changed, as if any sudden movements would make the air spark. “Oh?” I said carefully.
Pen’s focus remained on the table, but she lifted the beer for another long swallow, as if trying to wash away a bad taste.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I prompted.
She shrugged, stealing a glance at me. “She wouldn’t tell me who it was.”
