by Tom Keller
"And if we can’t afford it?" she asked, unbuckling her seatbelt.
"Then we're no better off than we were before," I replied, opening the SUV's door. "Don’t let anything he says surprise you. He'll already have a file on you, like he does on me. Just follow my lead."
We got out and walked to the back entrance. It was a door set in the wall with a couple concrete steps leading up. Of course, getting through the door wasn't the problem. The problem was the two Gargoyles that jumped down from the roof as we walked up.
"Closed," the first one said in a deep throaty voice. He pushed a rocky hand up in my direction.
"I need to see Antton," I said, walking forward and stopping just centimeters from his outstretched hand.
"I know you," the other one said, joining his partner. "You are EAB. We are closed. There is nothing for you or your cur here."
I reached back and placed my hand on Jazzy's shoulder, noticing her tense up at the slur.
"This isn’t an official visit," I replied. "Tell him the heir to the God of Hades is here. I'll wait."
You gotta love the modern world, I thought, as the first Gargoyle glanced at the other and pulled out a phone. He said a few words, then pointed it at me. I nodded at the screen, then heard the voice on the other end say let them in. The first Gargoyle turned and pointed a clawed finger at the code pad on the door; punching in a few numbers before it opened. Jazzy said nothing as she followed me in, but I could hear her trying not to laugh.
"Using your dad?" she said as the door closed behind us. "You are so bad."
"Whatever works," I replied, eyeing the dark-haired individual coming to greet us.
"Jay," the Demon said, pointing toward the hallway. Handsome and well dressed, he looked to be in his mid-30's, although I knew he was much older than that. He had an aristocratic air about him. Not what you thought of when the word Demon came to mind. "I did not expect to see you. Come into my office. Then you can tell me who this enchanting Were at your side is." We followed him down the hall into a well-furnished office with a huge wooden desk and leather chairs.
"Antton," I said, as he closed the door behind us. "This is Jasmine, daughter of Martin Chibeaux. Jazzy, this is Antton."
"Well met," she said, taking his hand.
"Wait, there is something special about this one" he said, glancing up at me. "Rougarou, if I am not mistaken. First Fae, and now Were royalty. It is indeed a pleasure." He clasped it gently, bowing his head before releasing his grip, then led us to the oversized couch in front of the desk. We took a seat on the comfortable leather as he walked around to his chair and sat. "But while you know I am always happy to see you, my friend, that cannot be said for all of my associates. These are trying times, Jay, and your masters at the EAB are not making it any easier. How could they think we are part of this… insurrection? Ridiculous!"
"They're not my masters, Antton. As you well know. And I was hoping we were beyond that."
"A poor choice of words," he admitted, reaching for a crystal decanter on the desk. He lifted it and poured an amber liquor into three snifters that were on the tray. He took one and pushed the tray in our direction, then raised the glass to his lips. "Were it not for our past relationship, I doubt it would be worth the risk to be seen welcoming you. Fortunately, those in my employ know better than to have loose tongues. Tell me. Where have you been? The agent that replaced you is a bastard. No respect at all." He looked over at Jazzy. "Pardon me, my lady."
"No problem," she said with a laugh.
"I understand," I admitted. "They sent us to General Detail. We're just doing cases these days."
"A shame," he replied. "I'm sure you are fine detectives, but they need agents that understand the worlds they are dealing with. To avoid problems." He took a sip and put down his glass. "Detectives, eh? Then this is no social call. What brings you here?"
"Just doing some follow up on a case," I said, lifting the snifter to my nose and savoring the aroma. Cognac, and not inexpensive. I took a small sip and put the glass down, tapping Jazzy with my foot to make sure she took a drink herself. It wouldn’t be polite to offend our host. "I ran into a Demon Lord a few days ago. Syrach, he called himself. One of the old guard. I was hoping maybe you'd heard something about him."
"Syrach?" he replied. "I've never met him. But you know better than that, Jay. His kind barely recognize our existence. Why would I know of such things?"
"Come on, Antton," I replied, lifting my glass. "Where else can Demons go?"
"Where else, indeed?" he declared, tipping his glass in my direction. "Tell me. Have you heard that the Lilin are opening a club of their own? At the Neptune of all places. I tried to speak with their representative, but they have yet to return my call."
"Have you tried calling Ella directly?" I asked.
Ella was the leader of the Lilin. She took control of the Vampires when my father freed them from an ancient curse. I already knew that they were opening a club in conjunction with the Neptune. The project had gone a long way to settle old grievances and the new club had been on my list of contacts before I was transferred. Of course, it didn’t hurt that my dad knew them all. Which was why Antton brought it up.
"Jay, please," he said, waving a hand in dismissal. "We are not organized in the same manner as the Fae and the Lilin. To someone like her, I am at best, a small business owner… and a potential competitor."
"I don’t think competition is an issue," I said, pulling out my cell phone. "They're just looking to employ their own people, without interference from certain other Fae. They've made their peace with the Milagres, but that can't be said for all the other factions. Old wounds and all that. Tell you what. Delia, her aide, is as close to her as anyone. She used to be a bartender at Danu's. She'll speak your language." I held up my phone so he could see the screen. "This is her personal cell. She'll take the call. Tell her I gave you the number when she answers. The rest is up to you."
"I appreciate the assistance," he replied, looking at the number. "I was hoping that we could get to know each other. As business associates there would be opportunities for cross promotion, that sort of thing."
"I'm sure she’d appreciate that," I replied, pulling back the phone. "If you need me to call her for an introduction, just let me know."
"I do not think that will be necessary," he replied. "I know Ella by reputation. A warrior princess, as I recall. If this Delia will take my call, I believe I can do the rest."
"Glad I could be of help," I said, draining my glass and setting it on the desk. "I won’t take up any more of your time. " I started to rise.
"Jay, please," he said, standing. "I am now in your debt. Allow me a moment. Perhaps I can be of assistance after all." He walked around the desk and out of the office.
"That's it?" Jazzy asked. "Just a phone number?"
"We haven’t heard what he's got," I said. "But dropping my name is almost as good as an introduction to Delia. So, yeah, that might have been enough."
"Maybe," she said, then squinted her eyes. "But if you ever give some Demon my personal cell number, I'm gonna kick your ass!"
"I'll keep that in mind," I replied, chuckling.
"Jay, this Demon you mentioned. How was he summoned?" Antton asked, walking back into the office.
"Summoned?" I replied, as he sat back down. "We're not sure, but we think a Witch was involved. Why?"
"Interesting," he said, folding his hands. "I have an employee. He would prefer that I not disclose his identity and I must abide by that wish. He told me something he overheard that may be of interest to you. Not of this Syrach, but it does involve Witches, or at least witchcraft."
"Any assistance would be appreciated," I said. "What exactly did he hear?"
"He says some patrons were discussing an athame," he replied. "A Witch's dagger. Apparently, someone was offering a substantial reward for one that was missing. He did not get the details, but they were looking for someone. A Witch, or possibly a Warlock. He wasn't sure. It w
as said to be in his possession."
"Did he get a name?" I asked
"Unfortunately, no," he said, shaking his head. "But he believes that this athame may have been stolen, and that this person was offering it for sale. Apparently, the original owner had summoned a Demon for help. That is all he knew. The patrons left soon after. Since you mentioned this Syrach, I thought there might be a connection. He is not the kind that frequents this plane on a regular basis. So perhaps he was the one summoned for assistance. It is only hearsay, as one in your profession would call it, but perhaps it will help."
"Interesting," I replied, glancing at Jazzy. I got up from the chair. "I'm not sure if it's related, but I appreciate the info. Every little bit helps."
"Of course," he said, standing and escorting us to the back door. "Thank you for the contact information. And Jay… take great care if you run into one such as this. He will not be as easy to deal with as we are."
"I have no doubt you're right," I replied. "Thanks for the heads up."
He took Jazzy's hand and bowed, then we headed back into the parking lot to the SUV.
"I guess he doesn’t know everything," Jazzy said, snickering.
"Maybe not," I replied, assuming that she meant our battle with Syrach, and his ultimate demise. "But I bet he knew he was here, and what he was looking for."
"Yeah," she said, getting into the SUV. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"That we missed something?" I replied. "Pretty much."
"Someone should of thought of it," she said, as I pulled out of the lot. "We had the boline. We should have considered that there would have been an athame as well. Standard Witches tools. But where is it?"
"I don't know," I replied. "Call Jesse. Let him know what we learned. Then ask him if he's got anything we can follow up on. I'm out of ideas." So sayeth the great detective. What else had we missed?
Chapter 18
"Put him on speaker," I said as Jazzy spoke into her cell.
She did as I asked.
"What about the athame?" I asked. "Any ideas?"
"I'll have Slater check the web," he replied. "I know they've cracked some of the access passwords to get into the sites Mal found on Harris' computer. Maybe there'll be a listing; or at least some chatter on the forums."
"A long shot," I said, knowing it was better than nothing. "Any luck on locations?"
"We've got a list," he replied. "Dad's got agents crawling all over the place. So far, nothing. But it's still early."
"I've been thinking," I said, pulling onto the freeway. "The Bible. I didn't see anything related to the dagger I pulled from the hairbrush. Did your folks find any reference to that, or anything else the Sister gave me?"
"I'll have to check," he replied. "But no one's brought anything to my attention. Why?"
"The last thing she said to me was that I would have everything I need. We've got to be overlooking something for that to be true."
"Pinche… " he murmured, and I could hear embarrassment in his voice. "I haven't had time to follow up on that. Let me see if they've found anything else. What are you going to do?"
"I want to go back and look at the rest of her possessions," I replied. "Maybe there's something there."
"Jazzy?" he asked.
"Unless you need me," she said. "I'll hang with Jay. I've about had it with staring at computer screens."
"I don’t blame you," he replied. "Okay. Let me get back to this. Call me if you find anything."
Twenty minutes later we were turning onto Nikki's street. I opened the gate and pulled the SUV into the driveway and we went inside. I grabbed the painting and the box with the rest of the Sister's possessions. I placed them on the table while Jazzy made a pot of coffee. I had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
A couple of hours later the coffee was gone, and we'd examined every inch of the rosary, mirror, comb, and painting. Jazzy was almost ready to take a bite of the objects, as a last resort, when I threw the rosary down on the table.
"Jay," she said, pointing down. "Look."
"What the…,' I gasped, staring down at the rosary. It had fallen partly over the mirror, and the area it covered was no longer reflective. It was black! I reached down and pulled it off. Immediately, it returned back to its original state.
"Do it again," Jazzy said.
This time I placed it down gently, covering half the mirror with the circle of beads. Wherever it touched within the circle, the mirror changed. I pulled the beads out, placing the entire five decades, the five sets of ten beads separated by a larger one around the outside of the mirror. The surface turned black. As I removed them, the mirror changed back. I doubted this was another coincidence. The circle of beads fit the outside of the mirror perfectly; the beads aligning with a slight groove we had noticed earlier.
"A magic mirror?" Jazzy said, dumbfounded. "But what does it do?"
"Let's see if we can find out," I replied, placing the rosary back around it. As the mirror turned black again, I moved the rosary around it, placing the cross in various positions. I tried placing it across from the larger beads, and then moved it around the mirror. Nothing happened. Then I laid the cross with the remaining four beads along the handle.
"Wait," Jazzy said, excitedly. "I think it flashed."
I moved the rosary around a bit, then returned it to the same position. There was a brief flash. As quick as it appeared, it was gone again, and the mirror returned to blackness. I left the rosary in the same position and sat back.
"I'm not sure if it's broken or if there's just nothing to see," I said. "But I definitely saw something when I put the rosary in this position."
We both stared down into the mirror. It remained black.
"Maybe it can't find a signal," Jazzy quipped.
"That could be it," I replied. I took out my cell phone and placed it on the table. I dialed Jesse and put it on speaker.
"Tell me you've found something," he said when he answered.
"We found something," I replied. "But we don't know what it means." I proceeded to tell him about the mirror, including how we'd moved the rosary around into different positions. "Any ideas?"
"You've tried everything I would," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. "Isn’t there a comb too?"
"Yeah," I replied, picking it up. It was made of the same silver metal as the brush. Slightly tarnished, it was in good shape. The teeth appeared to be made of ivory, and were set into the handle, which was large enough to allow a good grip. It looked like it may have once been engraved, but age had worn whatever design it once held away. Describing what I was doing so he could hear, I moved the comb around the mirror in several positions. Nothing happened.
"Let me try something,"" Jazzy said, holding out her hand.
I handed her the comb. She moved it close to the mirror, then, using her finger, she made different sounds as she strummed it up and down the edges of the teeth. Again, there was no change.
"Worth a try," she said, shrugging, then put the comb back down on the table.
"I think you should come down here," I said.
"Fat chance of that," he said almost laughing. "More likely my dad's going to tell you to come here, now that we've got even more mysteries to look in to."
"Listen," I replied, getting angry. "Tell your dad I need you here. I didn’t ask for this crap, but I'm the one that has to follow it through; at least by everything we know up to this point. Your dad's already agreed to that, at least in principle. All the pieces are here, but I need you to help me see how they fit. So tell him I need the best Wizard out there, and that's you!
"We're running out of time, Jesse, and all the agents he has working on this aren’t going to make a difference if we can't find the playing field. Now get your ass down here and let's solve this puzzle so we can go to work."
"Okay, okay," he said, somewhat defensively. "I'll get back to you."
"I'd say he needs to grow some balls," Jazzy said. "But I know what a bitch it's
gotta be working under your father."
"Better him than us," I replied, reaching down for the rosary and handing it to her. "Okay. Let's try this again, but this time, you do it."
It didn't seem to matter who was handling it. Whenever it went around the mirror, the face turned black. Like before, nothing else happened, except for the slight flash when the cross from the rosary was placed on the handle. We had to assume it was meant to show us something, but we were clueless when it came to figuring out what. I could only hope Jesse would find something where we hadn't.
"Where're you at?" I asked, picking up the phone when it rang. I assumed it was Jesse. I was wrong.
"Umm, Agent Hoskins?" a voice asked, nervously.
"Yes," I replied, looking down at the number. It was one I didn’t recognize.
"This is Steve… from the Magic Shoppe," he said, speaking fast. "He wouldn’t like me calling you, but he's not back yet. I told him not to go, Agent Hoskins, but he wouldn’t listen."
"Who wouldn’t listen?" I asked. "You mean Lucky?"
"Lucky. That's right," he replied. "He's been gone several hours. He's been acting weird ever since you came and talked to us. Then he got that email. I told him not to go, especially after what you said happened to Mr. Harris, but he wouldn’t listen…"
"Steve, slow down a minute. Tell me what happened. From the beginning."
"He was trying to sell the athame," he began. "The one he got from Mr. Harris. But after you came, he got nervous, and took down the listing. Then he got the email." There was a pause before he continued. "He said he was just going to give it to her. That then everything would be all right. I didn’t know who he meant, but he left in quite a hurry. That was several hours ago, just after dusk. He's still not back, and I can’t reach him by phone. I didn't know what to do."
Shit, I thought to myself. I guess he was that stupid after all.
"Okay, Steve," I said. "Do you have any idea where he was going, or who the email was from?"
"I only saw a glimpse of it," he replied. "Someone named Mystic, or Magi. It was something like that. I remember it was spelled funny"
