“Way ahead of you.” I grabbed the file off my desk and went out the door. “By the way, we have a nice police tail that we aren’t supposed to lose.”
“The more, the merrier.”
When we had both worked at the Order, Parthenon had been our favorite lunch joint. It served the best gyros. Unfortunately, now we were about forty-five minutes away from Parthenon, but we had found Acropolis, half a mile away, which was just as good if not better. It didn’t have Parthenon’s outdoor garden, but we made do with a secluded booth near the window in the back.
We ordered a heap of gyros, tzatziki sauce, a plate of bones for Grendel, and yummy pink-drop fruity drinks. Even with my shapeshifter senses, I had no idea what was in them and we both had decided it wasn’t prudent to ask. Our police escorts, an older woman and a man in his twenties, were seated all the way across the room, by the window. For now we had privacy, at least.
I took the picture of the knife from the file and pushed it toward her. “Ancient knife.”
She pondered it. “This is not battle-ready.”
“Raphael thought it was ceremonial.”
She nodded. “It’s a fang.”
“What?”
“It’s a fang.” She turned the picture toward me. “Wolf, maybe. Here, look.”
She reached down and pulled Grendel’s upper lip up, revealing huge canines. “Exactly the same.”
She was right. The knife was shaped just like a canine tooth. “How did I miss this?”
Kate wiped her hands on the cloth napkin. “I wouldn’t have connected it either, except Curran gave Grendel a pork chop last night and this doofus wolfed it down and got a bone shard stuck in his gum. I had to pull it out and got a close look at his teeth. I can’t seem to impress on the Beast Lord that giving him pork chops is not a good idea. He says wolves eat boars. I say that wolves never had a boar sliced into chops, which makes pork bones very sharp.”
I unloaded the whole story on her, sparing no details. Kate’s eyes kept getting bigger and bigger.
“And here we are,” I finished.
“The place smelled of jasmine and myrrh?”
I nodded.
Kate thought for a long moment. “You said the millionaire’s name was Anapa?”
I nodded. “I checked on it. It’s some sort of small town on the Black Sea in Russia.”
“It’s also in the Tell el-Amarna Tablets,” she said. “In the late 1880s clay tablets were found on the site of an old Egyptian city. The tablets dated to about the fourteenth century BCE. They were probably part of some royal archive, because most of it was pharaohs’ correspondence with foreign rulers.”
“How do you even remember this stuff?”
“Most of the tablets are from Palestine and Babylon,” she said. “It was part of my required education. Anyhow, the tablets are written in Akkadian, and the name Bel Anapa is mentioned. ‘Bel’ meant ‘master’ or ‘lord’ in Akkadian, similar to the Semitic Ba’al.”
“Like the demon Baal?”
Kate grimaced. “Yes. They had this thing where only priests were allowed to say the god’s name, so they just ba’aled their gods. Similar to the way Christians use ‘Lord’ now. So some Greeks ended up thinking that Bel or Ba’al meant a specific god, but it doesn’t: Bel Marduk, Bel Hadad, Bel Anapa, and so on.”
Great. “Which god is Anapa?”
“The Greeks called him Anubis, God of the Dead.”
Whoa.
“The one with the jackal head?” I asked, raising my hands to my head to indicate ears.
Kate nodded.
Okay. No god that had “of the Dead” attached to it could be taken lightly. Hades, Hel, none of them were cuddly puppies.
“He can’t be a god,” I said. “There isn’t enough magic for gods. We’ve established that.” Gods ran on the faith of their worshippers like cars on fuel. The moment the magic receded, their flow of faith was cut off and the gods dematerialized.
“He could be just using the name,” Kate said. “He could be the child of a god.”
I stared at her.
“Saiman is the grandchild of a god,” Kate said. “Anapa could be also.”
I thought of the office in Anapa’s mansion. That otherworldly office no human being could’ve made. “Do you think the knife might be modeled after his fangs?”
“It’s possible.”
“Does Anubis have any sort of helper animals?” I asked. “Like something about five feet tall with the jaws of a crocodile and…”
“Body of a lion? With a mane?” Kate asked.
Damn it. “Okay. Drop it on me.”
“Demon Ammit, the Devourer of the Dead, the Eater of Hearts, the Destroyer of Souls.”
I put my hand over my face.
“Supposedly after receiving the soul of a recently deceased, Anubis weighs the heart against the feather of Ma’at, the Goddess of Truth. If the heart is heavier, it’s not pure and Ammit gets a delicious treat. The soul doesn’t go to Osiris, doesn’t receive immortality, and generally doesn’t get to collect its two hundred dollars. Instead, it is condemned to be forever restless.” Kate squinted at me. “Let me guess, you nuked the Devourer of Souls.”
“Yup. And since he was guarding Anapa—”
“She.” Kate drank.
“Ammit is a girl demon?”
“Mhmm.”
I sighed. “Well, in any case, Anapa definitely isn’t just using the name.”
And if Anapa was Anubis, that meant I had officially pissed off a deity. I had never done that before.
I tapped the picture of the knife. “It could be an Egyptian knife. Ancient Crete and ancient Egypt traded. Even I know that.”
“It could be Greek, too,” Kate said. “The worship of Anubis actually spread through Greece and Rome.”
“So I have an Anubis of some sort, a possibly Egyptian knife, and snakes. Lots of snakes: snake people, vipers, flying snakes…and a Russian staff with a serpentlike head. How does this all fit together?”
We stared at each other.
“No clue,” Kate said. “But it’s not good.”
The gyros arrived. Kate pushed the plate toward me. “Eat.”
“Why?”
“You’ve lost at least ten pounds since I last saw you.”
“I’m getting fashionably slender from all the exercise,” I told her.
“That last time was three days ago. You’re not slender, you’re starving. Eat the damn food.”
For ten minutes we did nothing but eat.
“How did it go with Aunt B?” Kate asked.
“I caved in,” I said. “I went to see her, sat real calm by her feet, and let her put a collar on me. She was surprisingly gracious about it.” My cup was empty. I raised my glass. A waiter appeared and refilled it. “Thanks.” I looked back at Kate. “I’m not actually all that bitter about it. It cost me a big chunk of my pride, but I’m not bitter. I’m now a Bouda beta.”
“Congratulations.”
We clinked our glasses.
“Why the hell not? I decided that’s what I want and if I have to wear Aunt B’s collar for a few years to get it, so be it. I’ll learn everything she knows. I’ll figure out how she thinks, and then I’ll use it against her. That’s the bouda way.”
“And Raphael?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t decided. Anyway, Roman mentioned that the witches were all upset over a vision of the Witch Oracle. They heard howling and saw a spiral of clay. I’m thinking since Anubis is involved, maybe that was a jackal howling. Would Anubis have any sort of influence over werejackals?”
“I don’t know.”
I’d have to call Jim and warn him to pull any jackals he was using out of the team working on Anapa. No need to tempt fate.
“Don’t change the subject.” Kate fixed me with her stare.
“What subject is that?”
“Raphael.”
“Ah, that subject.” I popped a piece of gyro into my mouth. “I said I haven’t decid
ed. It’s complicated.”
Kate put her fork down, leaned her elbow on the table, and rested her cheek on her fist. “I’ve got time.”
It wasn’t right to lie to your best friend. Even if it was lying by omission. I chronicled my wonderful romantic adventures.
“I can’t believe you kissed the black volhv,” Kate said.
“It was tepid.”
“Tepid?”
“You know, not hot, not cold, just kind of moderately warm. I feel guilty about it, actually. Roman is a good kisser. I should’ve enjoyed it more. Besides, locking lips with him was the least of my problems.” I counted things off on my fingers. “Going to an IM-1 zone, breaking and entering into Anapa’s office, killing Anapa’s demon, breaking and entering into a crime scene, stealing evidence from the crime scene, threatening a human civilian with being hung by his intestines…I’m afraid your friend is gone and she’s never coming back. You’ve got a crazy bouda instead.”
“What are you talking about, you moron? My friend never left.”
That was Kate in a nutshell. Once she became your friend, she remained your friend. Always. I bared my teeth at her. “Who are you calling a moron?”
“You. Let me summarize: so you and Raphael had a fight and didn’t talk because you hurt each other’s feelings, then both of you got your feelings hurt again, because neither one of you apologized, then Raphael pretended to have a fiancée who didn’t do anything for him, and your feelings got further hurt, so you got him back by telling him that you were done, after which he went nuts and scratched MINE into your table, so you kissed a black volhv, who didn’t do anything for you, and now Raphael has moved his things into your apartment.”
“Yes.” That about summed it up.
Kate leaned toward me. “When I was little, Voron took me to Latin America. TV still ran regular programming back then, and they had this really dramatic love story on during the week. It was full of very pretty people…”
I pointed my fork at her. “Are you implying that our relationship is like a Spanish soap opera?”
“I’m not implying. I’m saying it.”
“You’re crazy.”
Kate grinned. “Have you traded any significant, tormented glances lately?”
“Eat dirt, Kate.”
“Perhaps he has a twin brother…”
“Not another word.”
She cackled over in her seat. I tried to smile back, but my smile must’ve been frightening, because Kate stopped laughing. “What is it?”
“I’m all fucked up.” I didn’t mean to say it. It just came out. “I fought and fought against joining the Pack, and now I’m in. I’m not dumb. I’m smart. I knew it would come to this, and joining the shapeshifters is to my benefit. I don’t understand why I resisted it for so long. Now there is Raphael. He’s behaving like an irrational lunatic, yet I’m even more obsessed with him. It’s like an addiction, Kate. I could just give in and make up with him, but I can’t. What is wrong with me?”
“You hate being forced,” Kate said.
“You’re wrong. I have no problem with authority.”
“You have no problem with authority when you voluntarily choose to accept it. You accepted the Order’s right to give you commands. If someone had come and tried to force you into the Order, you would’ve fought them tooth and nail. Aunt B tried to force you to join the Pack, so you balked. But now you’ve joined on your terms, voluntarily accepted her authority, and you’re okay with it because it was your decision, not hers.”
“And Raphael?”
“Raphael is an asshole, no doubt about it. Spoiled, irrational, difficult. And you love him and feel pressure to fix things because the two of you had something great and you helped to screw it up and now you feel guilty. It’s kind of up to both of you to put it back together, but you’d have to forgive each other first.”
“When did you get so wise?”
Kate sighed. “I spend all my Wednesdays listening to the shapeshifter court issues. You wouldn’t believe how often they try to use the Pack court to settle their love problems. Look, Andi, whatever you decide, I’m on your side. If you want help, I will help. Just tell me what to do. If you want to sit here and mope, I will find you a hanky.”
A hanky, huh? “Just for that, you’re going to come with me.”
“Where?”
“To Raphael’s house. It’s payback time.”
“Oh no. Another case of breaking and entering?” A mischievous light sparked in Kate’s eyes.
“I don’t have to break and enter.” I pulled Raphael’s spare set of keys out of my pocket and jingled them. “He left me this lovely set of keys. Seems a shame not use them.”
Kate laughed.
I had already made the calls before I left for my meeting with Aunt B. My evil plan was already set in motion.
I raised my pink drink. “To revenge!”
Kate raised her glass and we clinked.
“It has to be really good,” she said.
“Trust me on this. It will be epic.”
The front door of Raphael’s house swung open. A moment later Kate appeared in the doorway of the master suite’s bathroom. She was wrapped in a plastic biohazard suit.
“Still clear,” she reported. “It’s twenty past midnight. He’ll be home soon.”
“Almost done,” I told her.
“We would be finished already if you hadn’t insisted on doing the tub.”
I wiped the sweat off my forehead. I had put in nearly twelve hours of work, using every iota of my shapeshifter strength and speed. Kate had helped, especially with cutting things, but I wanted my scent all over this place, not hers, which was why she was wrapped in plastic, and I wore a tank top and a pair of capris, sweating and leaving my scent signature on everything.
“Almost done,” I promised again.
Kate turned. A moment later I heard it too, some sort of rumble at the front door.
“I got this,” Kate said and went out with a determined look on her face.
A moment later I glued the last strip in place and stuck my head out.
Kate stood by the door with her arms crossed.
That was an anti-Curran pose. What the hell was the Beast Lord doing here?
I padded to the door.
“First, you didn’t come home.” Curran’s voice held zero humor. “Second, I’m told that my mate is lingering in Raphael’s house. There can’t be any good reason for you to be here.”
“Are you spying on me, Your Furriness?” Kate asked.
“No,” I said, stepping into the doorway. “Jim has Raphael’s house under surveillance.”
Curran looked at me, then looked at Kate.
“Revenge,” Kate said. “I’ll explain later.”
Something hissed. The three of us looked up. A dark shadow rose on the neighboring roof, and I recognized Shawn, one of Jim’s people. Speak of the devil. “He’s coming,” Shawn hissed. “Raphael’s coming.”
Oh shit.
“Help!” Kate held her arms out.
Curran grabbed the biohazard suit and ripped it in half, stripping it from her. Kate thrust the suit into the nearest trash can.
I ran inside the house, locked the front door, ran upstairs, lowered the attic ladder, climbed into the attic, pulled the ladder up behind me, and dashed along the beam to the corner over the living room. My surveillance nest waited for me. I’d bugged the entrance and every room in the house, and now the images from the house filled my tablet. I was going to record this for posterity. I plugged the earpiece in.
Curran and Kate stood by the door.
“I can’t believe you decided to come down here and check on me,” she said.
“The guy once handed you a fan and told you to fan yourself if the sight of his naked torso was too much.”
“That was like a year ago. Will you let it go already?”
“No.” Curran grabbed her and pulled her to him, kissing her. “Never.”
She kissed him
back and smiled.
Awww. Kate and the Beast Lord sitting in a tree…
The sound of a car pulling into the parking lot.
I scooted on my pallet of plywood. Showtime.
Raphael approached. My heart skipped a beat. He looked good. He was also carrying something long and wrapped in canvas.
“Hello,” Raphael said.
Now that I looked closer, he seemed a little tired. There were slight bags under his intense blue eyes. Yeah, those sleepless nights of breaking into people’s apartments and rearranging furniture must be killer.
“Hi,” Kate said with a big fake smile.
Don’t overdo it, woman. Come on.
Curran just stared. Jesus Christ, those two couldn’t lie their way out of a paper bag.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked.
“We have something important…to discuss,” Curran said.
I hit my hand on my face. Brilliant, Your Majesty. Not suspicious at all.
“In private. Inside,” Kate said.
Raphael looked at Curran then slowly at Kate. “Please come in. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. For some reason all of the plumbing in the Clan Bouda House came apart and my mother called me.”
“What do you mean, came apart?” Kate asked.
“I mean that every coupling and fitting in the house has been pulled open,” Raphael said.
“I didn’t know you were in the plumbing repair business,” Curran said.
“I’m in the good son business. I couldn’t leave my mother in the house with no running water.” Raphael opened the door. “Some idiot likely pulled a prank. It’s a house full of boudas.”
“What’s this?” Kate asked pointing at the bundle.
“An apology for being a selfish asshole.” Raphael unwrapped the canvas, revealing the instantly identifiable shape of a high-tech compound bow: low-tech bows were bent outward, like a crescent, but this bow’s center bent inward, toward the archer. I zoomed in. Lightweight, a hollow carbon fiber riser with the telltale Celtic knot grid pattern, dampers to absorb the recoil vibration, ornate cams, string suppressors…Oh Jesus Christ, he was holding an Ifor compound bow. Sleekest, leanest, meanest bow on the market, with pinpoint accuracy and a vibration-free shot delivered in complete silence. It wasn’t a bow, it was death wrapped in a dream and twenty-first-century engineering. They were made in Wales by a single artisan family, one at a time. I had been trying to buy one for ages, but there was a waiting list a mile long and UK buyers were given a strong preference. How could he even get one? Where?
Gunmetal Magic (kate daniels) Page 26
