Deadly Spells

by Jaye Wells

  My eyes flared wide. John Volos hadn’t been on the list I’d come up with. Not because he wasn’t someone I disliked, but because I hadn’t expected the mayor to let himself be seen slumming it at the MEA offices. “Why is he here?” I shot a worried glance toward the door.

  “Got here about fifteen minutes ago,” said Shadi. “Gardner didn’t look surprised when he showed up, either.”

  “Hmm,” I said. They both turned to look at me when I didn’t say anything else. “What?”

  “Do you know what’s going on?” Shadi asked. Morales just looked at me with his best detective stare.

  “Why would I know?” I asked.

  Shadi shrugged. “You and Volos—you know.”

  I crossed my arms. “No, I don’t know.”

  With a sigh, Morales pulled his boots from the desk and let them hit the floor with a thud. “Well, if Volos is involved, it’s bound to bite us in the ass.”

  I couldn’t argue with that so I didn’t say anything. “Where’s Mez?”

  “Coming in late.” Shadi said this without looking at me. “He was up late working on that shaman’s potion.”

  Since sitting there wasn’t doing anything for my peace of mind, I decided to be productive and go make some coffee. I pushed off Morales’s desk and skirted the boxing ring to access Mez’s lab. Normally, it would have been bad form to go into another Adept’s lab without them there, but Mez and I had an understanding. Plus, protocol wasn’t going to stand between me and coffee—especially when it appeared my morning was going to be full of John Volos drama.

  The apparatus Mez used to brew coffee looked like something out of Frankenstein’s lab. Really it was just a simple vacuum process using a heating element and two glass chambers with a siphon tube in the middle. I poured filtered water into the lower vessel, freshly ground beans in the upper chamber, and flipped on the heating element. The process took a lot longer than most conventional pots, but the results were a lot tastier.

  Since I had a few minutes to kill, I went back to the doorway to check on the peanut gallery. Morales and Shadi had their heads together and were speaking in low tones. No doubt they were theorizing what breed of shitstorm was brewing inside Gardner’s office. I went back to watch the water boil.

  The sound of a door opening and new voices in the main room drew my attention. I went back to the doorway, careful to stay hidden enough not to get drawn into any unfolding drama. That would happen soon enough.

  “… I’m counting on you,” Volos was saying. I couldn’t see him on the other side of the boxing ring, but the sound of his voice hit me right in the gut just like it always did.

  “We appreciate your faith, Mr. Mayor,” Gardner said. I could barely see the top of her sleek brunette bob through the ropes.

  Volos stepped into view. His dark-blond hair was carefully styled and his suit cost more than the GDP of some third-world countries. But it was more than the accessories he wore that made Volos an impressive sight to behold. He was one of those men who exuded power. He had the kind of confidence that couldn’t be bought, but would definitely cost you if you were dumb enough to stand up to it.

  “Don’t worry about the tension with Eldritch. I’ve made it clear he needs to focus on keeping the streets safe while you track down the party responsible for creating the chaos,” Volos said in his most diplomatic tone. “He understands there’s too much at stake here to let a territorial pissing match get in the way of getting the job done.”

  He paused as something caught his eye. I moved forward an inch or two to see what had distracted him. He was staring directly at the large board we’d posted in the boxing ring. On it, pictures from Charm’s murder scene and the junkyard surrounded a large image of Pantera Souza’s scarred, black face.

  Behind me, the coffee apparatus made a loud hissing noise that indicated the water was about to boil over. I ignored it in favor of watching Volos’s face morph from the practiced smile of a politician to the mask of a man hiding something. “Is that your suspect?”

  Gardner cleared her throat. “Yes, sir, he is an operative for the Brazilian cartel.”

  “A Morte?” Volos’s gaze stayed on the board, as if memorizing every detail. “You didn’t mention a cartel connection earlier.”

  “We’re still gathering evidence, but we have reasons to believe they’re tied to both the murder and the assault on the head of the Sang Coven.”

  The mayor’s gaze snapped toward Gardner. “Interesting.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll let you get back to it, then.” He glanced at his gold watch. “I need to run to a luncheon at the ladies’ auxiliary, but before I go I was hoping to speak with Detective Prospero.”

  All eyes turned toward me.

  Behind me the coffee apparatus boiled over, sending hot coffee spraying all over the tabletop. I jumped, muttering a curse. My reaction had more to do with the request than the spill, but I was happy to let them think otherwise. “I’ll be there in a sec,” I said in the same tone a person might use to say they were ready to face a firing squad. “Need to clean that up.”

  Volos smiled and looked me in the eye. “I’ll wait.”

  After I quickly switched off the heat element and wiped up the worst of the mess, I trudged over to meet Volos. While he waited, he’d pulled on a cashmere dress coat and a red woolen scarf that looked disgustingly good on him. He tipped his head toward the stairs leading outside. It seemed whatever he had to say wasn’t meant for the team. That or he was worried about what I’d say to him in their presence. I raised a brow. “It’ll just take a moment.” He held a hand toward the stairs.

  With a sigh, I turned and marched down the steps. His presence at my back felt like an oppressive shadow on my shoulders. By the time I burst out the front door onto the sidewalk, I was thankful for the fresh air and the wide-open space to give me some distance for the conversation. Luckily I’d left my puffer vest on when I’d arrived, and that combined with my flannel shirt, jeans, and boots protected me from the worst of the late-winter chill.

  “What do you want?”

  He smiled at my preemptive attack. “Well, for starters, hello.”

  I crossed my arms.

  He cocked a brow at that but didn’t call out my snappish tone. “How’s Danny?”

  Impatience pressed like hot air behind my ribs, but he’d get to his point in his own time. Rushing him would only make him delay longer to fuck with me. “He’s learning magic.”

  John’s eyes widened. I mentally patted myself on the back for the ability to surprise him. “Since when?”

  I forced a causal shrug. “November. I figured instead of fighting it any longer, I’d just make sure he learned about it the right way. Totally clean potion work, by the book.” I didn’t mention I’d sat in on a few of those lessons, so I could learn more about the clean side of things.

  “Interesting,” he said in a tone I couldn’t interpret. “What’s your read on this A Morte situation?”

  The change in topic was too abrupt not to be contrived. He wanted me off guard. “Gardner already filled you in.”

  He crossed his arms and regarded me with a skeptical look. “But now I’m asking you.”

  I shrugged. “Brazilians are trying to shake things up.”

  “Any idea why?”

  “Normal reasons, I suppose—money, power.” I looked up under my lashes. “You know how that is, right, Mr. Mayor?”

  He nodded distractedly, seeming to ignore the dig. “I can’t afford for this to blow up right now.”

  For the first time, I noticed the tension lines between his eyebrows. “Huh,” I said.

  “What?” he snapped.

  “Just don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous. It’s kind of refreshing. Makes you seem almost human.”

  “I never claimed to be anything but.”

  “It’s cold, and because of you I haven’t had any coffee. So state your business or I’m going inside.”

  He stepped closer. “I need you to keep me in
the loop.”

  I frowned at him. “That’s Gardner’s job.”

  He shot me a get-real look. “We both know she’ll tell me what’s politically advantageous for the MEA. You’re the only person I can trust to tell me what’s really happening.”

  I held up a hand. “You seem to have forgotten that we are not friends. I hate you, remember?”

  “I remember that you’re always trying to convince me of that. I also know you’re honest to everyone but yourself.”

  “Fuck you.” I started to stalk around him, but he grabbed my arm.

  “I know why you don’t want to deal with me. If I were you, I wouldn’t, either. But I’m asking you to do this anyway.”

  A laugh scraped out of my throat. The ego on this guy threatened to suck all the oxygen out of the atmosphere.

  “Please?” He looked me in the eyes. “It’s important.”

  Something in his tone gave me pause. It wasn’t just that John was basically begging me for help. It was also that he sounded worried. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  The pleading look disappeared and his mask fell neatly back into place. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just keep me informed. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  I sucked in a deep breath and released it. “I’ve experienced your warped form of gratitude before. I’m not real eager to go through that again. You want information? Find some other pawn. Like Grace Cho.”

  He looked at me as if I’d spoken a foreign language. “What’s she got to do with this?”

  “Thanks to you, she’s been stalking me for a story.”

  “I take it you’re not interested.”

  I just shot him a stony look.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he snapped.

  I frowned. “How?”

  “Don’t worry about how,” he said. “Just say thank you and agree to let me know if you have any breaks with A Morte.”

  I sighed and looked at the ground. I really wanted Grace Cho off my back, but I didn’t love the idea of having to report to him about the case. “Tell you what, I’ll help you if you get Cho off my back and tell me what you know about how my mom died.”

  His expression didn’t change. “What are you talking about?” His tone was patronizing.

  “I have reason to believe Abe lied to me about how she died,” I said. “And I think you know what it was.” I didn’t mention Cho or the death certificate. Too much detail would give him material he could twist into a lie. But the truth was, Cho was only the latest person to imply there was more to the story. Shayla King, who’d been one of Aphrodite’s whores, had mocked me months earlier for beating myself up for my mother’s death and intimated Uncle Abe had hidden details from me. I shot the bitch before she could finish laughing. Her death had been deserved, but I regretted not demanding the full story before she bled out.

  He put a hand on my arm. “I’m sure Charm’s death hit you hard. It’s no surprise it would stir up some old wounds, too. But I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  My eyes narrowed. “So you believe she really OD’d on that potion I made?”

  He nodded. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but you’re going to have to come to terms with it and move on. It’s time to stop torturing yourself with the past.”

  I shrugged off his hand. “You’re from my past. Does that apply to you as well?”

  He stepped closer and his expression softened. “I—”

  The sound of someone whistling arrived a split second before Mez rounded the corner at the end of the building. When he saw Volos and me standing so close, his steps slowed and the tune he’d been whistling died.

  “Hey, Mez.” I took a pointed step away from Volos.

  “What’s up?” Mez cast a speculative glance at Volos. “Morning, Mr. Mayor.”

  Volos tipped his chin. “Mr. Ren.” He turned to me. “I’ll expect your call.”

  With that, he walked to the car waiting at the sidewalk. Mez stood next to me, hands in pockets, watching him go. “What was that about?”

  “Oh, you know,” I sighed. “Same shit, different day.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Back inside the gym, Mez and I joined the others. Morales, Shadi, and Gardner all looked at me expectantly. I raised both of my brows. “What?”

  “What did he want?” Gardner asked.

  I shrugged. “He wants me to keep him in the loop about the case.” No sense hiding it.

  “Instead of me or in addition to?” she asked.

  “In addition. Said he trusts me to give him the real story.”

  She shook her head but didn’t look surprised. “I appreciate you telling me,” she said. “Do as he asked, but be careful. If he thinks we’re not busting our asses, he’ll call my bosses in Detroit. They’re waiting for us to screw up.”

  “Understood.”

  “All right,” she said, “where are we on this. Shadi?”

  “After Prospero and Morales talked to the Votary crew yesterday, I went to stake out the bar. Lots of Votary people went in and out, but no Souza. After the bar closed down, I followed Puck Simmons and a blond female—”

  “That must have been the chick who gave us lip yesterday,” I interjected.

  “I followed them back to an apartment,” Shadi continued. “Their lights went out at four in the morning. I stayed another hour without another peep from them.”

  “Do you think it’s worth bringing Puck in for official questioning?” Gardner asked Morales.

  “We could try,” I said, “but I doubt he’d turn on Pantera Souza.”

  “Why not?” Gardner asked.

  “Puck might have betrayed Charm, but he’s coven through and through. Squealing isn’t in his makeup. Especially when it’s against someone like Pantera, who would likely go after the guy’s nearest and dearest before he tortured Puck to death.”

  Gardner nodded. “Mez?”

  “I retested the potion and confirmed that the toxin is from South America. There’s no way of tying it directly to Souza without using dirty magic, though.”

  Shadi held up a hand. “Explain for us non-Adepts please.”

  “Each wizard leaves a sort of magical fingerprint on their recipes. There’s a technique some Adepts can use to read a potion.”

  I kept my eyes on Mez, but I saw Morales glance at me from the corner of my eye.

  “But the courts deemed that sort of evidence gathering illegal,” Mez continued. “And even if it weren’t inadmissible, it’s not a form of magic I’m capable of doing.” He said this last part grudgingly. Mez prided himself on being a magical wunderkind.

  “Do you know any wizards who can do that?” Gardner asked Mez.

  He shook his head. The boss turned to me. “How about you?”

  “No,” I said more quickly than I’d intended. My eyes cut toward Morales, who refused to look at me now. My shoulders relaxed when my partner didn’t call me on my lie.

  Gardner tapped her lip. “I wonder if Val does—or Volos, even.”

  “Sir,” I said hesitantly, “what’s the point if we can’t use it to build a case?”

  “The point, Prospero,” she snapped, “is that we’re dead in the water without a lucky break in this case.”

  I crossed my arms and looked at the floor. I’d regretted not admitting I was able to read potions when it came up, but I knew I’d made the right choice. When I’d joined the task force Gardner had lectured me about the importance of using old-fashioned police work to solve cases instead of taking magical shortcuts. But now that the case had personal stakes, she was ready to throw all that out the window.

  The room had fallen silent. Morales had watched the exchange with a hard look on his face, but now he stepped forward to break the tension. “There’s an angle we haven’t pursued.”

  Gardner threw up her hands. “About damned time someone started thinking outside the box. We’re all ears, Morales.”

  “Abraxas Prospero.”

  My s
tomach flip-flopped. But before I could utter the curse that immediately sprang to my lips, Gardner leaped on the suggestion. “Make it happen.”

  “Sir, I really don’t think—”

  She cut me off. “We don’t have time for you to throw a fit, Prospero. Morales is right. Abe has a dog in this fight since it was his captain who got killed. Besides, a man with his influence and connections is sure to have had run-ins with the cartel.”

  She was right, but I didn’t like it.

  “The problem is, I’m not sure we’ll be able to get in to see him.” Morales shot me an apologetic glance. I responded with a shitty glare.

  “That’s right,” Gardner said, looking at me. “Since you’re the reason he won’t speak to us, you better figure out how to fix this.”

  I sucked in a deep breath to hold on to my temper. I wasn’t sure why Gardner had suddenly declared it shit-on-Prospero day, but it was wearing on my nerves.

  “I have an idea of how to make it happen,” Morales said.

  Gardner raised her brows. “Well?

  “Duffy.”

  “Damn it, Morales,” I said.

  Gardner ignored my outburst. “Volos did say he’s read Eldritch the riot act about cooperating.” She nodded decisively. “Make it happen.”

  My head fell back and I looked up at the ceiling, wishing a bolt of lightning would strike the building. The last thing I thought I’d be doing that day was dragging my ass to the precinct to beg Pat Duffy for help.

  “You got a problem with that, Prospero?” Gardner’s voice was cold.

  I lowered my chin and shook my head. I knew when it was time to eat shit with a smile. “No, sir.”

  She tipped her chin. “Good.” She turned to Shadi and Mez. “You two pair up and see if you can track down Puck. He’ll go see Pantera Souza eventually, and I expect one of you to be there when it happens.” She put her hands on her hips, issuing each of us a don’t-fuck-it-up glare. “Let’s make this happen, people.”

  Walking into the precinct a while later, I still wasn’t speaking to Morales. He paused with his hand on the door and blocked my entrance. “You know I didn’t have a choice.”