“You cooked, so I’ll clean up.” Des stood and started to clear the table. “Go ahead and make your call.”
“Fine.” Lana moved into her living room and opened her laptop. She had Sheila’s number in there somewhere. Once she found it, she dialed and concentrated on keeping her breathing relaxed and muscles loose. The last thing she wanted was to sound nervous.
“Hey, Sheila,” she said into the phone when her classmate answered. “I’ve got a weird question for you.”
“Oh?” Sheila yawned. “I thought you were done with class work.”
“I am. It’s just—my old boyfriend’s down from Canada for the weekend, and he’s looking to party. I haven’t been into much lately, but I remembered you saying you could hook me up if I needed anything…exotic.”
“Sure. Jerry’s here. You want to talk to him? What kind of exotic are you looking for?”
“Well, maybe some E, if you have it.” Lana knew ecstasy was Sheila’s personal favorite party drug. “Or I’ve heard about this new stuff—demon dust? Have you ever tried that? One of the waitresses at the bar where I work says it’s awesome.”
“It rocks,” Sheila admitted. “Let me ask Jerry about it.”
After a moment of silence, she returned to the line. “I’ll meet you at the coffee shop by campus at two-thirty. That work for you? It isn’t cheap. A hundred bucks a hit.”
Lana moved the phone away from her face and called, “Hon, do you have two hundred dollars?”
Des played his part, speaking loudly enough to be picked up by the phone. “Not a problem, sweetheart. Anything for you, eh?”
“No problem,” Lana said back into the phone. “We’ll be there.”
“No—just you and me,” Sheila said. “It’ll look more natural, two girlfriends meeting for coffee. We can swap notes.”
“Okay, sure.” Lana knew Des wasn’t going to like it, but that was his problem.
* * *
No way in hell was he letting her go into the buy on her own. Des had a working relationship with the Detroit cops—the League’s cover was a private investigations company, and Des was a licensed P. I. as well as a mage. If he got caught buying drugs, he could talk his way out of it. Lana didn’t have that security net. Des entered the coffee shop alone, with his laptop, about fifteen minutes before the designated meeting time, and settled into a corner booth with a cup of coffee.
When Lana walked past him, he glanced up—a normal male reaction to a pretty girl. Then he looked back at his screen, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She sat down with another young woman, a bleached-blonde maybe five years younger, too thin and dressed in all black. They chatted briefly before Lana handed over a spiral notebook, which the other woman flipped through. She smiled brightly as she handed Lana a three-ring binder, the kind that zipped all the way around. “Thanks for the notes.”
They finished their drinks and stood, hugging before they left via separate exits.
Des took his time putting away his computer and following Lana outside. Several blocks away, she pulled her car over to the curb and waited for him. He climbed in, picking up the binder from the passenger seat before he sat.
“There’s an envelope in the back,” Lana said. “There’s your sample.”
“Thanks.” He flipped through and found it. “I’ll take this in to the lab this afternoon.”
“Figured.” She drove into the parking structure and pulled into the slot alongside his car. “I guess I’ll see you around then. I’d appreciate you letting me know what you find out.”
He looked at her as she turned off the car and fiddled with her keys. What was he supposed to say now? He wasn’t really that experienced with relationships, and to tell the truth, he didn’t know if what was going on with Lana qualified. He just knew if he fucked it up and hurt her, her cousins and his sister were liable to kill him and hide the body—if she didn’t do it herself. “I’ll call you tonight.”
She inhaled a deep breath. “Or you could come over.”
“If I can.” He might have some leads to run down if the lab was quick. “One way or another, I’ll call.” That much was a reasonable promise.
“Okay.” She gave him a crisp nod. They both got out of the car, and Lana started to brush past him as he put the notebook in his own car.
Des snagged her arm. “One more thing?”
She tipped her head up at him. “What?”
He grinned. “This.” Then he kissed her until his senses were reeling.
When they stopped, Lana stepped back, breathing heavily. “Well then.” She blinked. “I guess I’ll talk to you later.”
“Promise.” With that, he got in his car and headed off to work.
* * *
Lana was down in the subbasement of the club, counting jars of olives and maraschino cherries when Mickey, their main bartender, yelled down the stairs that she had a phone call.
“I’ll take it in the office.” She made her way up the stairs to the small office she shared with her cousins as co-owners of the bar.
“Oh my God, Lana, you’ve got to help us,” the voice on the other end sobbed.
“Sheila? What’s wrong?”
“Jerry’s boss. He thinks you gave the demon dust to the cops. He came and took Jerry…and I don’t think…Lana, he didn’t look human.”
Lana gulped in a breath and tried to calm the other woman. “Okay, settle down. Are you at home? Are you hurt?”
“N-no. I mean yes.” Sheila sniffled then swallowed. “I’m okay, and I’m home. I was so scared, I hid.”
“I’ll call for help, and we’ll be there as soon as we can. What’s your address?”
Sheila rattled it off while Lana wrote it down. “I’m on my way, and calling for help. Don’t move, and if you hear any voice but mine, hide again. Call my cell if you need me.”
“O-okay.”
Lana hung up the bar’s phone, went to the wall safe and removed the matte-black nine-millimeter pistol they kept there. She snapped the holster onto the belt of her jeans and threw her leather coat over it. Finally, she reached for her cell and pulled up Des’s number, holding her breath until he picked up.
“We’ve got trouble. Meet me at this address,” she said. “The demons came and picked up Sheila’s boyfriend.”
“Wait for me.” His tone didn’t leave a lot of room for argument. Total alpha.
Too bad Lana didn’t take orders well. “No. Sheila needs someone there right away, so unless you’re already in the city, I’m heading over now.” As she walked to her car, she filled him in on what the other woman had said.
“I’ll only be twenty minutes or so behind you.” Des accepted that she wasn’t going to wait. “Try not to get into too much trouble before I get there. Did you call your cousins?”
“No. They have their own lives. If we decide we need more backup, we can call them then.”
“Fair enough.”
Lana pressed End and climbed into her car. Ten minutes later she parked in a marginally legal spot on the street behind Sheila’s student apartment building. Watching and listening carefully for any trouble, she made her way up to number 203. Sheila’s weeping was quiet, but Lana’s lupine hearing picked it up easily through the wall.
She tapped on the door. “Sheila, it’s me, Lana. Let me in.”
Footsteps sounded and then the locks rattled. Finally, Sheila cracked open the door, looked both ways and stepped back so Lana could come in.
The tiny apartment was a shambles. Furniture had been overturned, a shelf tipped over, and books scattered across the floor. Two potted plants had been dumped, their soil and leaves littered across the beige industrial carpet. A framed rock band poster hung crooked on the wall, its glass broken.
Lana kicked the door shut behind her. “You’re sure you’re not hurt?”
Sheila shook her head. She wore a pair of soft yoga pants and a sweatshirt, but no shoes. Lana bet she hadn’t even noticed the shards of pottery and glass on the floor, but resisted the urge
to pick the other woman up and carry her out of the room. Instead, she took Sheila by the arm and carefully steered her into the kitchenette, which had fared a little better, and pushed her gently into a chair. “Now tell me what happened?”
“I happened.” A tall, muscular African-American man with a shaved head and goatee stepped out of the single bedroom. “These two are going to disappear now. You’re the one I wanted to talk to.”
Lana’s hand automatically reached for the gun at her waist. She knew how to use it. Her cousins had taught her back when they’d been a band touring dive bars in California. “Who the hell are you?”
He took a step closer and Lana could see Jerry, Sheila’s boyfriend, lurking behind him.
“I’m sorry, Lana.” Sheila ran to Jerry and the two ducked back into the bedroom.
Lana sniffed, picking up a sulfurous trace from the newcomer. She narrowed her eyes. “Demon.”
He tipped his head. “You can call me Vin.” Slowly he entered the kitchenette and took a seat at the table, motioning for Lana to join him. “You’re the wolf. Where’s the Wyndewin?”
“What’s a Wynde-whatever?” Lana shrugged and started to inch her pistol out of its holster. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
The demon shook his head and morphed, letting Lana see his true form, which made her damn near wet her pants. She’d seen a Gravaki before, the one who had almost destroyed her pack and had killed her grandfather. This one was every bit as big. Since he’d been wearing baggy, stretchy sweats and a tank top, his clothing didn’t rip off when black and red scales replaced mahogany flesh, and he close to doubled in size. Curling black horns grew from the top of his glossy scaled head, and silver eyes with vertical pupils looked across the table at her as his talons tapped the Formica surface. “Satisfied?” His voice was a low growl, but he almost sounded amused.
“What the fuck do you want, Gravaki?” she asked, her own claws pricking at her fingertips, ready to emerge.
“Hey, you know your demons. Kind of odd for a wolf. Now I know you hang with Wyndewin.” He morphed back into his human form. Gravaki were true shape-shifters, able to take on any appearance they wanted. This one had obviously chosen a form that would be unremarkable in Detroit. His now clawless palms flattened on the table. “I want to talk to you and the wizard. That’s all.” His English held the flavor of the Detroit streets without being over the top.
“Why should I believe you?” Gravaki was known for being a nasty place, and most of the demons that came through to this world from there were pretty—well—demonic.
“I didn’t kill the idiots in the bedroom. They’re just going to get in their car and drive to his parents’ place in Ohio until this is over with.” He shrugged. “You might find this hard to believe, but I’m actually on your side.”
“Right. I do find that a little tough to believe, since last time I saw a face like yours it was on the creature that killed my grandfather.”
The demon—Vin?—winced. “Ouch. I’d say I’m sorry, except I have no idea what happened with the dude who started all the trouble. We’re talking about the asswipe known as Nightshade, right?”
Lana nodded.
“Well, he’s a distant cousin of mine, but I’m just as glad he’s dead. Figured as much after he disappeared, leaving his operations in chaos.”
A few short staccato knocks sounded at the door. “Lana?”
“That will be your magic friend.” He gestured toward the door. “Let him in, please.”
Mindful of the humans still in the other room, Lana moved sideways to the door, not taking her eyes off the demon who sat unmoving, a grim smile on his remarkably average-looking face.
“I’m fine,” she hastened to assure Des when he stepped inside and laid eyes on the demon. “Our friend here says he just wants to talk to you.”
“I’m listening,” Des said as he strode across the room, trying to keep Lana behind him. While she appreciated the thought, she wasn’t about to let him get used to protecting her. She took his arm and walked beside him.
The demon stood and held out his hand. “My name is Vindelius Karakon. I’m sure you can tell what I am.”
After a long hesitation, Des did shake the other being’s hand. “Desmond Sutton, Wyndewin. What do you want?”
“I want you to blow the portal between Detroit and Gravaki.”
Well. Lana sat down with a thump. Even Des lifted a brow as he pulled out a chair. “Excuse me?”
Vin shrugged. “Not all Gravaki are like my cousins—the ones you know as Nightshade and Mandrake. Some of us don’t approve of drug dealing, especially across planes. I want you to help me close down the operation in the salt mines and shut the door behind me.”
“Why don’t you do it yourself?” Des leaned forward. “And who the hell is Mandrake?”
“Mandrake, otherwise known as Malen Gavrolis, is the younger brother of Nivri Gavrolis. Nightshade. Your lupine woman here says he killed her grandfather. I know he was producing drugs that fuck with the populations of both our planes.” Vin waved as Sheila and Jerry scurried out of the apartment, making no move to stop them. “As to why I don’t blow up the portal, that’s easy. I don’t want to be trapped on this side. Since it was opened from here, it has to be closed from here as well.”
Well, that made sense. Lana found herself relaxing a little.
Des wasn’t so easy to persuade. “Why should I believe you?”
Vin shrugged. “Because your boss, Brewer, is in bed with Malen? How do you think I found out about you? As soon as he got hold of that sample you gave him, he came running to the mines with word that someone sold to a Wyndewin. Those kids that just ran out the door are lucky I was the one sent to terminate them.”
“Fuck.” Des flinched. “Brewer? The director? No freaking way.”
That had to be a blow. Des was intensely loyal to the League. He’d given so much of his life to it that he had to consider this a personal betrayal. She slid over a hand and gripped his knee.
Vin shrugged. “You don’t like it but that doesn’t make it wrong. Sorry, but your director is an asshole.”
“And why the hell should I believe you?” Des glared down the demon.
“Because they don’t intend to stop here. Malen has plans for other planes. Even the one you folks call Underhill. You know your friend Brewer has a real hard-on against elves. He also plans to make you the fall guy—given your, um, family relations with the pointy-eared types.”
Damn it all. That couldn’t be allowed. Not the destruction of Underhill—they had friends in that world, too—and definitely not Des taking the blame for it.
“So, Vindelius, what’s your plan?” Des’s shoulders drooped as he reached down and rubbed Lana’s hand. She wondered if he even knew he was doing it.
“I can sneak you in tonight as a new dealer,” Vin said. “I assume you can use magic to smell like an addict. Brewer is meeting there with Malen tonight. We push them both through, and then you blow the portal. Mopping up the worker bees shouldn’t be too hard once you get rid of the boss and his two prime lieutenants.”
“One of whom is you?”
Vin nodded. “And the other is human.”
“Even if we blow up the portal, what keeps your boy Mandrake from just opening a new one?” Des still wasn’t buying it.
“He doesn’t have the power.” Vin shrugged. “Believe me or don’t. But why do you think there aren’t more of us here? It takes a fucking powerful mage to open one, much less a permanent version. Nivri was that strong. Malen isn’t.”
That made sense. Only a few Wyndewin in the world could open even a temporary portal. Des had never heard of a human mage who could set a permanent one.
The cell phone in Des’s pocket began to buzz. He pulled his hand away from Lana and looked at the screen. “My boss,” he said. “Think I should answer it?”
“Let it go to voice mail,” Lana suggested. “You knew a while ago that something was wrong in the League,
when you were sent out of town by ‘mistake’ when Dina was kidnapped.”
Des nodded, though she could see new lines of strain around his eyes and his skin was a full shade paler than when he’d come in. “Okay, Vin. Looks like you’re giving me a tour of the salt mines.”
“Us,” Lana said. “You aren’t going anywhere without backup, pal.”
“We could call some others…” Des began.
“Storming the front gate is a bad idea,” Vin said. “Too many early warning systems and plenty of workers who mine the salt. Did you know salt is incredibly rare on Gravaki? And with just minor modifications, is addictive to my people? And here you are, sitting on piles and piles of it.” He pulled a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. “Here’s the spell for blowing up portals. You might want to memorize that on the way there.”
Des tried to talk Lana out of coming, even to the point of threatening to call her cousins, but she stood her ground. “I don’t care if you call my mother. I’m not letting you walk in there by yourself. A dim, half-drunk girlfriend will draw a whole lot less attention than another burly guy. And you know I can handle myself.”
“Can Gravaki see through invisibility spells?” Des asked Vin as they walked out to the street.
Vin shrugged. “Some. Again, if you tried bringing in an army, I’d say yes. One small shape? Not unless we’re actively looking for it. If she goes in as an invisible wolf, odds are no one’s going to see her until she bites them on the ass. Even if they do, nobody will pay any attention. There are a few stray dogs who wander through open tunnels. One of my cousin’s first workers there had the bright idea of bringing them down to act as watchdogs. Since we don’t have dogs on Gravaki, most of the workers consider them a novelty and sneak them food and water now and then.”
And so Des found himself driving with Vin in the front seat while Lana stripped and shifted in the back. He still didn’t like the idea of her going along, but he was glad she’d be in wolf form, if she had to be there at all. As he drove, he committed the words of the spell to memory.
All the old entrances to the salt mines beneath Detroit had been sealed, except for those few areas still in operation. The entrance Vin directed Des to was well away from the modern headquarters, a small building long since abandoned by the mining operations. A simple spell opened the sealed steel door on an empty, concrete block building. An elevator in surprisingly good working order waited to take them down below the surface. Des had been in the mines once before, to help mop up after Nightshade, but that time the Wyndewin had permission to use the modern entrance, even utilizing company trucks once they’d gone down an elevator longer than the one at the Empire State Building. If his boss was working with Nightshade, though, that would explain why they hadn’t captured Nightshade or totally shut down the operation at that time. Hell, they hadn’t even found the portal.
Motor City Mage Page 5
