by Jaye Wells
“Let’s hope it’s not too soon,” Gardner said.
I frowned at her. “Why do you say that?”
“Because now Dionysus thinks the heat is off him for a little while. He’ll get cocky. Maybe make a mistake.”
“Let’s hope so. That asshole’s been one step ahead of us since this began.”
Gardner chugged the rest of her beer, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and smiled. “Then we’ll just have to make sure his next step is into a trap.”
Chapter Twenty-One
October 27
Waxing Gibbous
Two days later Morales and I were on our way out of the medical examiner’s office with a folder full of papers we weren’t supposed to have about Owens’s death. We’d spent a couple of days chasing down every possible lead on Dionysus. But so far we’d come up with a big fat goose egg. With each passing day Gardner was getting more and more pissed, which meant we were getting closer and closer to the edge of the law when it came to tracking down leads. Luckily the media circus surrounding Owens’s death and Aphrodite’s arrest was keeping the BPD too busy to pay attention to what we were doing.
Since Franklin is a tad touchy about things like cell phones going off in his morgue, I’d turned mine off when we arrived. But the instant we walked out with the illicit lab reports he’d given us, I fired up the phone again. A voice mail from Baba was waiting saying she couldn’t pick Danny up from school since she had to take Pen to a follow-up with her doctor. A sharp spike of guilt speared me. Poor Baba had been working double duty with both Danny and Pen so I couldn’t very well complain about the inconvenience. Still, stress was a constant aching burn in my gut, and the added complication ratcheted my cortisol a couple of notches.
I had Morales drop me off at my Jeep, Sybil. Before I got out, he said, “I’m going to go check in with Gardner and then see if I can get a bead on Aphrodite’s guard. Maybe he can be convinced to share some information about what they found at Dionysus’s apartment.”
“Take Shadi with you.”
He smirked. “You worried about me, Cupcake?”
“Nah. Just don’t trust you not to beat that guy’s ass when he lies to you.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. Give me a shout once you get the kid settled and I’ll let you know where to meet up.”
Thirty minutes later I pulled up in front of Danny’s school. Despite the chilly air outside, my back was sweaty from sitting in traffic. I pulled up in front of the school with fifteen minutes left to spare before DUDE let out. Instead of sitting at the curb, I decided to go in and introduce myself to the teacher sponsoring the club. If he was cool, maybe I could arrange for the team to do a demonstration at an anti-dirty-magic rally or something. I knew Danny said they weren’t going to invite guest speakers, but I figured I could talk this Mr. Hart into it.
A woman I’d never met was working the front office, and she informed me that the club met in the library on the second floor. Over the years I’d been in the school several times both as a parent and to catch up with Pen. Even though a lot of the parents who sent their kids to Meadowlake could be snobby and exclusive once they found out Danny and I were both Adepts as well as lower middle class—wasn’t sure which ranked lower in their esteem—there were some cool ones, and I liked almost every teacher Danny had over the years. It helped that Pen was popular among the staff, and I knew she often smoothed things over for the kid.
The library was nothing like the one at the public school I’d attended in the Cauldron. My school basically had what amounted to a broom closet full of books. Mostly the shelves were taken up by musty-smelling encyclopedias and unused thesauruses. An ancient woman named Mrs. Strahan had been in charge of the “library.” She was nice, but basically ignored by the kids and staff.
I have to admit that back then I was so full of myself for being the heir apparent to the most powerful coven in the city that I didn’t think it was worth exerting much effort on book learning. It wasn’t until I enrolled in night school at Babylon Community College that I realized how deprived I’d been not growing up a reader. Now I read most nights before bed to unwind. Nothing literary or anything. Just cheap paperbacks where I knew the good guys would always win the day or the couple would live happily ever after.
But this library? Double doors opened up into a two-story temple to books. The main floor held the circulation desk, rows of computers and study carrels, and dozens and dozens of shelves of books. Steps led up to the second-floor, U-shaped balcony that held shelves so tall, you needed a ladder to reach the top. Mrs. Strahan would have peed her adult diapers to see this place.
Since school was done for the day, there weren’t a lot of students present. I glanced around and saw a group of kids gathered in an enclosed classroom off to the side of the circulation desk. Laughter echoed and when voices spoke, they sounded excited and passionate. I smiled, glad Danny had found a group that encouraged such a positive energy.
Moving toward the doorway, I peeked inside. At the front of the room, a tall guy who looked maybe three years out of college was standing in front of a white erase board. His sandy-blond hair flopped into his eyes as he jumped around. I suppose he was handsome in a white-bread-and-missionary-position sort of way. He wore a corduroy blazer, a skinny tie with a wrinkled white button-down, dark-washed jeans, and a pair of battered Converses.
Kids called out the names of famous dirty potions and he wrote them on the board. His movements were so animated, I realized this was a teacher who absolutely loved his job. Not one of those pruney government employees who never went off the script the state curriculum provided. This guy was too new to be cynical, and I liked him immediately.
“Yes, Josh, that’s right,” he was saying, “some people use vanity potions to impersonate other people. The stronger the potion, the more convincing the transformation, but those stronger ones are almost more addictive.” As he turned back to write this on the board, his gaze blew past the door, where I stood. He paused and stood up straighter. “Oh, hi. Can I help you?”
“Sorry. I was early for pickup. Thought I’d come watch.” My eyes scanned the young, eager faces for Danny’s.
When I spotted him, he slid down in his seat as if he wanted the floor to swallow him. I frowned.
The teacher glanced at the clock. “Okay, everyone, time’s up.”
A collective groan of disappointment filled the room.
“I know, I know,” the teacher continued. “But don’t forget: Next week we have a very special speaker stopping by.” He took a deep breath to draw out the drama. “We owe a huge thanks to Danny for inviting the one and only John Volos—”
He said more, but the instant he’d said that name, anger flared in my belly, like flames licking the inside of an alchemist’s athanor. “I’m gonna kill him.”
The room fell silent. “Pardon?” the teacher asked.
I jerked upright, realizing too late I’d said it out loud. “Nothing,” I said with a lame chuckle, “carry on.”
My gaze slashed toward Danny, who was busy smiling at his classmates’ praises and studiously avoiding any glance in my direction.
“Remember to bring in your lists next week, too,” the teacher continued. “Other than that, have a great weekend, guys!”
I ducked farther inside the room to get out of the way of exiting teens. The teacher approached with a hand extended. “Brad Hart.”
“Kate Prospero,” I said, returning the shake. “I’m Danny’s sister.” Who, I noted, was lingering at the back of the room, instead of coming to greet me.
He tilted his head. “The cop?”
“Guilty,” I said, forcing a smile.
Hart smiled back. Something about the expression gave me pause. It took me a minute to realize there wasn’t a problem with it at all. Instead, Brad Hart’s smile was totally lacking in guile and his eyes were clear, like maybe his conscience was, too. In my line of work, it wasn’t often you ran into anyone who didn’t have some sort of
secrets or ulterior motives behind their smiles.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah sorry, long day,” I said.
He crossed his arms and leaned in a fraction. “Cleaning up the streets is tough work.”
I gave him a sideways glance. Despite his fashionably shabby clothes, the guy didn’t look like he’d spent much time on any street that didn’t boast large houses with top-dollar alarm systems and security gates.
“Sure,” I said. He was a nice guy. He didn’t deserve my sarcasm or jaded comebacks. “Listen, thanks for putting this group together. Danny’s very excited.”
Hart beamed. “We’re thrilled to have him. I have to admit, I was a little disappointed when he told me you wouldn’t be able to be one of our monthly guest speakers.”
If he’d knocked me upside the head with a two-by-four, I would have been less shocked. “Huh—”
“I understand you’re busy and all,” he continued, oblivious to my distress, “but I think these kids could really benefit from your stories from the front lines of the War on Dirty Magic.”
My gaze sought Danny out like the red beam of an assault rifle’s laser. The kid looked up and paled at whatever he saw on my face. “Yeah, actually,” I said, holding my brother’s wide gaze, “I could probably make some time if you think the kids would enjoy it.”
Hart’s expression opened up. “Really? That would be awesome!” He thought it over for a second. “We have Mr. Volos in this month, but maybe in November.”
I shot a glance at my brother, who was working hard not to look like he was trying to hear our conversation from the other side of the room. I smiled real wide for his benefit. “I’d be happy to help.” I pulled out my wallet and handed him my card.
He glanced down at my newly minted MEA business card. His eyes widened. “Wow. I’d heard you were a cop from some of the other teachers, but I had no idea you were a detective working with the MEA.” He waved the card. “If it’s okay, I’ll call you soon to set up a date.”
I frowned.
“To speak to the, uh, class and stuff,” he finished lamely.
Something in my belly warmed. Brad Hart wasn’t my normal type. He was more like a puppy dog than a guard dog. But, I thought, it’s not like hanging out with the assholes I normally went for was getting me too far lately.
“Definitely do,” I said with an encouraging smile that felt foreign on my face.
“Great.” He smiled that sweet smile again. My poorly socialized inner voice whispered something about devouring him. I hushed her and reminded the minx it had been so long since we’d both had sex with something that didn’t require batteries that we couldn’t be too choosy. “In the meantime, try to behave yourself, Detective.”
I looked up and paused. Those clear, guileless eyes had darkened to reveal the promise of a few intriguing shadows in Brad Hart. And on top of that, I was pretty sure he was flirting with me.
Well, well, I thought, things just got a lot more interesting.
“Ditto.” With that, I walked away, careful to put a little English in my stride, and went to go deal with my disloyal little brother.
By the time we burst through the back door of the kitchen I was a volcano ready to blow. The drive home was painfully tense and quiet. Danny spent the entire ride trying to curl himself into the smallest space possible and kept his eyes focused on the stained floor mats. I tried to focus on not wrecking the car and resisting the urge to go take my anger out on Volos for accepting the invitation to speak.
The kitchen door slammed shut behind us. I threw my purse and keys on the table. “Sit.” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded too quiet, too full of banked rage.
On some level, I knew I was overreacting. Teenagers lie. They get embarrassed by their parents. But for this to happen so soon after my fight with Pen was just too much. It felt like everyone I cared about was slipping away, and deep down I was painfully aware of my own responsibility for that. What was worse? Pen was right. None of theses issues would exist if not for my job.
Needing something to do to put some space between me and my unpredictable, singeing emotions, I went to the fridge. Naturally, I was all out of beer, so I settled for a wine cooler Baba had left there after the party. The cap hit the floor with a ping. Two seconds later, the sickly sweet flavor of fake strawberry and malt liquor hit the back of my throat. But it was cold and fizzy and scrubbed the taste of guilt from my tongue.
When I finished every drop, I pulled the bottle from my mouth with a loud exhalation. The sugary liquid sloshed in my stomach, making me instantly regret chugging it.
“Kate?” said Danny’s small voice.
I held up a finger. “I’ll do the talking. You say nothing unless specifically asked to provide a response.” I glanced out of the corner of my eye in time to see him nod. “First of all,” I continued in a conversational tone, “when did you invite John to speak?”
He kept his eyes downcast. “At your surprise party.”
“Have you two been in touch besides the night of the party?”
He nodded reluctantly. “But only to set up the time for him to come to the school.”
I let out a little sigh of relief. Some part of me had been imagining a conspiracy between those two behind my back. “Okay,” I said. “Now what about lying to Mr. Hart about how I couldn’t speak? I offered to do just that the night you told me you wanted to join.”
A teenager shrug.
“Were you embarrassed to have me speak in front of your friends?” My gut tightened at the thought. I kept forgetting that at some point I’d gone from being Danny’s hero to his humiliating mother figure.
He shook his head. “Figured you wouldn’t show,” he mumbled.
“What the hell does that mean? I wouldn’t flake on you, Danny.”
His head jerked up then. “Bullshit.” The word zinged round the room like a bullet.
I pointed to the curse jar. “Cough it up.”
He slammed out of his chair and threw a five in the jar. My eyes widened, but before I could say anything he took off.
“You act like you’re such a fucking selfless saint, but you’re never around anymore. You don’t care about me or DUDE. All you care about is looking good in front of your damned team and earning promotions. And the only reason you’re mad at John is because you’re jealous you’re a shitty wizard and he’s such a badass.”
If he’d punched me in the gut, I wouldn’t have been more in pain than I was from those hateful words. “First of all,” I started in a slow, calm tone totally at odds with the lava simmering in my gut, “I don’t act like I’m selfless. I act like a woman with lots of responsibilities. At sixteen, I can’t expect you to understand the concept of having to worry about anything more important than when the update to your favorite video game comes out. But I assure you, it’s no fucking picnic.”
“Jar,” he snapped.
“You had a credit left, so I took it.” I shook my head. “Now, as for me not being around, that’s only temporary. Once we get past the Blue Moon, things will even out.”
He snorted. “Until your next big case.”
I threw up my hands. “What do you want from me, Danny? I can’t tell the criminals to stop killing people because my little brother needs some quality time.”
His jaw set. “Jesus, sorry I’m such an asshole for wanting to see you.”
I sucked a cleansing breath into my nose, hoping it might dispel some of the bitterness in my throat. “You’re not an asshole.” Neither of us commented on the profanity. From the looks of things, we’d both be bankrupt before midnight if we kept paying the jar.
He crossed his arms and folded his lips into a frown. “It’s not just the late nights. You’ve always had a crazy schedule. It’s just that since you started the task force, when you’re here you’re not really here, you know?”
I frowned at him. “Have you been talking to Pen?”
He shook his head, looking confused. “No, why?”<
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“Never mind.” I waved a hand. “I’m sorry I’ve been bringing my stress home. I’ll try to do better.”
He nodded but didn’t look convinced I’d be successful. Since I doubted it as well, I moved on.
“Now, about the other thing.” I licked my lips to stall for time. This next conversation wasn’t going to be as easy. “It pisses me off that you believe the reason I have issues with Volos has anything to do with who’s better at magic. It has nothing to do with cooking and everything to do with morals.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “Here we go again. You think you’re all high and mighty because you don’t cook. But you know what, Kate? If it weren’t for John’s use of magic, I’d be dead right now.”
There. Right there. A tectonic shift. A rift exposed in the bedrock of our relationship.
“That’s not fair, Danny.”
“I don’t give a shit,” he yelled, that man-child voice cracking. “You would have let me die to save your precious principles.”
My ribs got too tight to contain the hot, swelling, pulse of my shattered heart. How in the hell could this kid believe I’d just stand there and let him die? “I would never let anything happen to you.”
He sat up straighter, looked me in the eyes, and delivered the deathblow. “You let Bane hex me.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” My tone was so icy, even Danny shied away. “You wanted to hurt me? Congratulations. Mission accomplished.” I tried to breathe over the pressure in my chest, but each inhalation felt thin and cold. “But if you think I’m going to let that distract me from the fact you snuck behind my back and lied, you’re sorely mistaken.”
His face fell. “I—”
I slashed a hand through the air. “I don’t care about your excuses or your reasons. I don’t care about anything except letting you know that you are grounded until further notice. No phone, no games, no TV, no fun, no freedom, no DUDE.”
When his gaze jerked upward, it was sharp as daggers. “How are you going to enforce that, Kate?”
