by Jaye Wells
O’Lachlan shook his head. “I know he’s too smart to trust me with information you could blackmail out of me before he wants you to know it.” The guard led him to the door, but just before he walked through he paused and looked back with a smile. “If I were you, I’d get as far from the city as I could before Halloween. Because the devil’s coming to settle accounts with the sinners of Babylon.”
Chapter Seventeen
October 24
First Quarter
Morales’s biceps bulged. He hesitated at the top of the arc. Then… boom! Wood shards exploded everywhere. A chorus of shouts. “MEA!”
Guns poised, we crashed into the small space like a force of nature. What probably looked like chaos was actually a carefully orchestrated maneuver. We each had a job to do. Morales was the ram man, and Shadi and I were the second wave, pushing forward through the apartment to clear rooms. Normally we would have had more backup go with us on a raid, but Gardner hadn’t been too eager to ask Eldritch for favors.
After the meeting with O’Lachlan, we’d put together the raid as quickly as possible. Gardner handled calling US Attorney Stone about securing a warrant for Dionysus’s place. The mayor’s dictate that Dionysus was enemy number one in Babylon greased the wheels, but it still took a few hours to get everything in place. We opted for an early morning raid because we were more likely to catch Dionysus at home at the butt crack of dawn than during prime night hours. We were at the door bright and early with a signed warrant and enough weaponry to take down an entire coven of junkie wizards.
Off the front door was a long, narrow hallway. I hated hallways because it meant there were usually lots of doors for perps to jump out of, like that FireArms Training Simulator at the academy. Any second a masked gunman or a five-year-old could pop out of those doors and I’d have to make a hair-trigger decision whether they lived or died.
The first door revealed a small bedroom that contained no furniture. The walls, however, had plenty going on. Every inch of wall space was covered in a pornographic collage. Interspersed among the T&A display were headlines about the incident in Pioneer Square, as well as pictures of Mayor Owens, John Volos, Aphrodite Johnson, Harry Bane, and several members of the city council.
While Shadi got my back at the door, I looked in the closet. There I found overturned boxes with nudie magazines, dildos, and lots of electronic devices I couldn’t immediately identify. What I didn’t find was Dionysus. “Clear!” I shouted.
She rolled out the door to move on to the next room. I followed, gripping my gun tighter. With each space we cleared, the chances of finding our guy in the next room rose.
The second bedroom was a mess. The mattress was overturned and the stuffing spilled out like entrails. The bedside table held an overflowing ashtray and empty wine bottles. The drawer hung out from the front and its contents were piled on the floor. The closet here held the satyr costume I’d seen Dionysus wearing at the festival, plus a few boxes of ammo and empty potion ampoules.
Morales joined us when he moved back into the hall. While we advanced toward the living room at the back of the hall, my brain buzzed. Keeping an eye out for attackers, in my head I was cataloging the scene for clues about what we might find farther in.
Up ahead, the living room and kitchen area were accessed through an archway. Light from two windows on the far wall sparked off dust motes. The couch’s cushions were askew, like someone had wrestled on them—or spent a restless night sleeping there. To the left a breakfast bar separated the living room from the small galley-sized kitchen. Every cabinet in the place was open, and all the contents lay on the linoleum. An overturned distilling apparatus dominated the counters below. It wasn’t a professional setup by a long shot, but a quick glance told me this guy knew his way around a cook.
“Clear!” Morales called. He lowered his weapon a fraction and cursed. “We missed him.”
I sighed and used the back of my hand to wipe the sweat off my brow. “Maybe O’Lachlan was telling the truth about Dionysus moving out?”
Morales shook his head and executed a fuck-if-I-know shrug. He spoke into his vest mike. “Mez! We need you up here to sweep for potions!”
“Ten-four,” came the reply.
We wanted Mez to sweep before we touched anything because sometimes wizards booby-trapped their homes with potions to incapacitate police in case they got raided. The kitchens and bathrooms were usually especially vulnerable to these booby traps because wizards liked to protect their cooking areas. Given what we’d seen so far, Dionysus seemed the type.
Shadi let her assault rifle slide down to hang from the strap from her shoulder. “Anyone else thinking this place is a little too messy?”
Morales crossed his arms and shrugged. “The guy’s a slob.”
She shook her head with a frown. “Nah, you didn’t see the bedroom. Mattress was cut open.”
I paused and looked around the space with new eyes. Now that she mentioned it, I realized the couch cushions weren’t just sloppy, but also could have been hastily thrown back on. Walking toward the furniture, I used a gloved hand to lift one of the pillows. “I’ll be damned.”
“What?” Morales snapped.
I held up the pillow with one hand and pointed to what I’d found with the other. “It’s been cut open, too.”
He and Shadi came to take a closer look. “Someone’s been looking for something,” she said.
I dropped the pillow and looked around again. This time I noticed a gateleg table sitting beneath the bank of windows. Moving closer, I realized there was a slip of paper and a small bunch of flowers lying in the sun.
“Guys,” I said. I didn’t touch the paper, but the words written on it were clear: Ravens who fly too close to the sun always get burned.
“Looks like we weren’t the first ones to find this place,” Shadi said.
“Any idea what the plant is?” Morales asked me.
The plant beside the message had little starburst clusters of white flowers. I didn’t recognize the species, but I was willing to bet six months’ pay I knew which garden it had come from.
“No, but I bet Mez will know.”
Shadi crossed her arms and leaned against the windowsill. “So Aphrodite found the address, searched the place, and then left a message for our boy in case he comes back.”
I nodded. “Looks like. But O’Lachlan claimed Dionysus said he planned to vacate this place more than a week ago.”
“What I want to know is why would this asshole risk incurring the wrath of Aphrodite Johnson if he’s a wiz himself?” Shadi asked.
“Lots of reasons,” I said. “Maybe he didn’t have the scratch to buy the materials himself. Or maybe he’s not very good. Or—”
“Or he just enjoys fucking people over,” Morales said impatiently.
I frowned at him. He’d had a bug up his ass for a couple of days. Initially I figured he’d just been stressed about the case and jacked up on adrenaline for the raid, but now that the worst of the danger was over, he should be back to joking like he always did. But as it stood he looked like he was spoiling for a fistfight. “What’s your problem?”
He paused and turned the full force of his scowl on me. Maybe that shit would make a lesser person back down, but I’d seen Morales in all sorts of moods and this one didn’t intimidate me more than any of the others. “Shit, I don’t know, Prospero. We’ve got a rogue wizard stirring up a shitload of trouble with a fucking Blue Moon bearing down on our asses like a loaded gun. Sorry I’m not more chipper.” His tone dripped with venomous sarcasm I’d never heard from him before. I tilted my head.
“Morales?”
“What?” he snapped.
“What sign are you?”
He looked like he was worried I was a few grams shy of a kilo. “Why?” His eyes narrowed.
“Just humor me, jackass.”
“Taurus,” he grunted.
I nodded. “Oh. I get it now.”
He crossed his arms. “What the fuc
k does that mean?”
“The Blue Moon is also in Taurus, which means you’ll be feeling its effects especially strongly.” I shrugged. “Which is why you’ve suddenly developed an intense case of PMS.”
He gritted his teeth so hard that I swear I heard them grinding all the way across the room. “Shut the fuck up, Prospero.”
I raised both brows at Shadi. Her corresponding sour expression told me she didn’t appreciate me egging him on. I sent her one back that told her to lighten the fuck up.
Before I could continue to give either of them shit, Mez came busting into the room. His dreadlocks were alternating strands of red and black that day, but his normally composed look was disheveled as he lugged his potion kit into the living room.
“On my way in, I checked the bathroom. Didn’t find any signs he cooked in there but he’s definitely working on an impressive mold colony.” The wiz made a pucker of distaste. As he passed, I caught the telltale cucumber-melon scent of his favorite hand sanitizer. In addition to being a fastidious dresser, Mez was a committed germaphobe. I once saw him go through an entire bottle of that antibacterial stuff in a day, and that was when he was working in his own lab.
“Hey, Mez,” I said, waving him over to the table. When I pointed to the flowers, I asked, “Look familiar?”
He set down his leather doctor’s bag and leaned over the table for a better look. “Hmm. White snakeroot, I think. Nasty.”
“What’s it do?” Morales asked.
“Vomiting, tremors, delirium,” he said, as if reciting days of the week. “Used to grow in pastures. Cows would eat it and then anyone who drank the milk or ate the meat would fall sick. Back in the day, entire towns died from milk sickness. Killed Abe Lincoln’s mom.”
I frowned. “Sounds like Aphrodite’s work for sure.”
Mez raised his brows and I realized he hadn’t been caught up to speed on our new theory. I quickly told him that we thought Aphrodite had tossed the place.
“Hmm,” he said, approaching the kitchen. “She would have been looking for her potions. But we need to figure out what he’s planning to do to the city. And judging from the rig in the kitchen, I’m guessing he wasn’t trying his hand at beer making.” He made some waving motions for the three of us to back away from the kitchen so the master could do his work. He set his large tackle box on the counter and opened the lid. He took his time placing rubber gloves on his hands while he surveyed the contents for the supplies he needed. I’d never watched Mez clear a scene before, so I moved forward to get a better look, but far enough back that he wouldn’t feel I was invading his space.
He removed a small wooden box. From where I stood I couldn’t identify the type of wood but I did catch some glyphs painted on the top and sides. He used a small key from around his neck to open it.
Unable to curb my curiosity. “What’s that?”
He smiled, keeping his eyes on the item in the box. “A little something I cooked up to help detect magic.” With his fingertips, he lifted a small round object from the box. He held it up for us to see. A glass orb with a spindle through its center hung from a copper frame. It looked more like an antique pendant for a necklace than an Arcane investigative tool.
“What’s it do?” Shadi asked, her tone suspicious.
“Watch and see.” Mez smiled like he had a secret and raised the amulet over the distilling pot. Almost immediately the orb glowed red and spun rapidly on its axis.
Morales, who’d apparently forgotten he was being a prick that day, moved forward and emitted a low whistle. “Damn. That’s awesome.”
“Oh stop,” Mez said with a grin that encouraged us to keep going.
“Will it pick up magic on anything?” I asked.
He glanced over and nodded. “For the most part, there are some variables that might throw it off, like a lot of salt in the vicinity or if there’s some other particularly powerful magical energy.”
“Like the full moon?” Shadi asked.
He shook his head. “Like a potion-powered machine or something.” Moving toward the opposite side, he waved the detector over the stove and the microwave. The amulet remained quiet until he waved it in front of the oven. Then it started spinning like it was going to fly right out of Mez’s hands and glowed redder than the devil’s ass.
The wizard whistled low. “Everyone stand back.”
He didn’t have to tell us twice. Shadi, Morales, and I retreated toward the doorway. Mez shot us a disgusted look.
“No offense, man,” Shadi said, “but if there’s a potion trap in there I’d rather you get hexed than me.”
She had a point. As a powerful wizard, Mez had the best chance of surviving a magical attack. I was second in line, but since I didn’t actively practice the craft, my ability to equalize magical energy was limited.
“Okay,” Mez said with a sigh, “here goes nothing.”
I pulled my emergency canister of saline from my raid rig just in case we needed to douse him.
Mez ducked down, hidden behind the breakfast bar. The oven’s hinges emitted a loud squeak. I held my breath and listened hard.
“Huh.” The wiz’s voice was muffled.
“Was that a good huh or a bad one?” Morales demanded.
“Well, there’s a bomb, so… bad, I guess.”
I started, unsure whether to run toward Mez or the door.
“Mez,” Morales said in a too-calm voice, “should we be running?”
“Nah.” His head popped up from behind the counter. “It’s not live.”
“How can you tell?” asked Shadi.
“There’s a digital timer on the front that doesn’t have any power and, well, it hasn’t gone off yet.”
Morales glanced at Shadi. “Call BPD and have them send their bomb squad.”
“Hold on,” I said, “BPD doesn’t have a bomb squad. You’ll have to call it in to the tactical wizardry unit at the sheriff’s office.”
He nodded at Shadi. “While she does that, I’ll call Gardner. Kate—”
“Uh, guys?” Mez was frowning down at the oven. “I think we need to get out of here now.”
When a wizard with knowledge of potion bombs tells you to go, you don’t question it. The four of us ran out of the apartment. As we did, Mez, shouted, “The magic detector must have set off the timer. We have five minutes.”
Among the four of us, we were able to knock on the doors of the other three units in the building. I pulled a woman who looked to be about Baba’s age out of her place, and Morales carried a three-year-old and hustled his worried mom ahead of him. By the time we got outside, Shadi was already there with the apartment’s super, a middle-aged woman with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. Mez ran out last, his leather bag in one arm and the other around a man whose pale blue irises, unwashed hair, and arm and neck lesions indicated he was several days into a bender.
We guided everyone to an empty lot across the street from the apartment building. Morales was already on the phone with Gardner. Shadi was on hers, too, trying to get in touch with the county tac wizes. I glanced at my watch. The entire evacuation had taken less than four minutes.
Luckily, the apartment building sat at the end of a dead-end street and the building next to it was abandoned, so there weren’t any bystanders to worry about.
“Gardner’s on her way,” Morales said. The kid was clinging to his mom and crying. The piercing wails ramped up the tension of waiting for time to tick down. I glanced at my watch again. Fifteen seconds left, give or take.
“Everyone back up some more,” I said.
Our raid gear was designed with salt slabs built into the antiballistic vests. If the explosion was large, we’d be safer than the others. The four of us gathered in a circle around the residents to form a shield. My back was to the building. I lowered my head and held my breath to brace for the explosion.
A loud pop sounded. Breaking glass. And then the whirring siren of a smoke alarm.
Frowning, I looked over my shoulder.
Green smoke rolled out of the three broken windows of the apartment we’d vacated. I exhaled my breath and lowered my arms. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”
BOOM! A wave of heat and energy slammed into me. My body was tossed forward by the concussion, slamming me into the potion freak Mez had pulled out of the building. We fell forward in a heap.
My ears weren’t working. They hurt and there was a buzzing that sounded like it was coming through several thick layers of wool. The back of my neck stung and my forehead ached where it had slammed into the guy’s chin.
Groaning—I couldn’t hear it, but the pain in my chest was pretty obvious—I turned my head. Shadi lay a few feet away, the mother and child under her. The kid was squirming. The mom was not.
Rough hands on my back, turning me over. Morales’s face monopolized my vision. He had a gash on his forehead and blood on his hands. His lips were moving. I think he was saying my name, but he kept shaking me so I couldn’t tell for sure.
He pulled back to shout something to his right. When he moved back, it expanded my field of vision to reveal a wall of fire behind him. Those flames made something in my body flip like a switch. I reared up with a gasp. The movement made me dizzy, but it was suddenly crucial that I stand up and move. Morales grabbed my arm and helped me rise. I leaned into him for a second while I regained my equilibrium. My eyes wanted to close so I could take a nap against his chest.
Sound rushed back with a vengeance. A sudden onslaught of roaring sirens and shouts of firemen and the whimpering child made me wish for the silence’s sweet relief.
“Look at me,” Morales said, lifting my chin. I blinked because the concern on his face felt too intimate. “How you doing, Cupcake?”
I opened my mouth to say I was fine. But I knew it was a lie. Another lie in a string of half-truths and white fibs and outright falsehoods. “Shitty,” I said.
His lips curled up into a smile that felt like a reward.
I pulled away, hoping it didn’t seem too much like retreat. “What’s our status?”
“Everyone’s banged up but alive. Med wizes just pulled up. They’re patching up the mother and Shadi.”
