by Erin Johnson
I snuck a glance to my right at Prince Harry, who looked almost identical to Neo with his slicked-back hair and even slicker clothes. Grateful, but still kinda weirded out. Francis winged near the top of the stone tunnel in bat form, just so he wouldn’t be recognized.
So far, all our efforts to disguise the royal group had been overkill—we hadn’t run into anyone but the rats. Still, I listened hard for any sounds of footsteps, my stomach tight with worry. I’d barely made it out of here alive on my last visit. Now that Ludolf was even less pleased with me, evidenced by his little redecorating job at my apartment, I wasn’t eager for another encounter with the ol’ mob boss.
We followed the twists and turns of the sewers, the tunnels growing so narrow that we had to fall into a single line. The prince/Neo had to duck through some parts, the walls and ceiling crumbling around us. I spotted a red glow up ahead, flickering off the rough stone walls, and slowed to a stop. I turned to the prince/Neo.
“That’s it, up ahead. You’d better lead the way. Remember our story?”
The prince/Neo nodded. “We caught you and are bringing you down here for Ludolf to test more potions on.”
The princess/Viktor held up a finger with a tiny skull tattooed above the knuckle. “And he also asked us to collect some records for him.”
I nodded. “Good.” I glanced up at where Francis circled overhead. “Francis, you’re backup in case we run into any trouble.” Sea goddess below, I hoped we didn’t run into any trouble.
Prince Harry/Neo led the way, ducking through a half-collapsed doorway into the large, round potions room. I followed, with Princess Imogen/Viktor behind me. The space glowed with the red light of the fire in the giant hearth, which heated a cauldron of sizzling orange liquid.
One of the three hunched old witches stirred a paddle around in it. The other two witches, who I guessed to be her sisters, since they looked identical with their white hair and crooked backs, worked at a tall table littered with animal feet, bottles of potions, and various beakers and spell books. They barely looked up, which I found more unsettling than if they’d grilled us.
“Uh.” Prince Harry/Neo brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “We’re, uh, here because Ludolf—”
“Mr. Caterwaul.” Princess Imogen/Viktor corrected. She seemed to suddenly remember my coaching from earlier about Viktor’s mannerisms and began jerking wildly, as if having some kind of medical emergency.
Oh, this was not going well. Iggy’s words floated back into my head. He’d been teasing her about her “absolute zero chill,” as he put it, and inability to play it cool in tense situations. Snakes, he hadn’t been kidding at all.
I stepped forward. “Bunch of detritus, if you ask me.” I crossed my arms and shot the prince/Neo a challenging look. “But whatever—bring it on. What’s one more potion?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to act as snarky as I always did, then subtly jerked my chin to the large wooden cabinet at the far side of the room. It sat beside a second entrance—one I’d seen Ludolf enter through before. Icy fear ran through me—if the witches called our bluff and summoned him, we’d be done for.
The prince/Neo followed my gaze and gave me a slight nod back. He turned to the princess/Viktor, who was still flinging her arms and legs in every direction. An A for effort, but a massive fail in execution. “C’mon, Im—I mean, Viktor.”
I pressed my eyes shut, trying hard not to lose my cool. They were helping me, I reminded myself—or at least trying to. But these royals clearly had no street smarts.
When I opened my eyes, the prince and princess in disguise were threading their way between the tables toward the cabinet full of records. I glanced behind me. Francis hung, in bat form, upside down from a rusted pipe in the tunnel, his dark eyes watching intently.
I felt slightly better remembering that we had the vampire on our side, though I wondered how effective he’d be if Ludolf discovered us and sicced the entire shifter underground on us.
The prince and princess stood in front of the cabinet and held their hands up, their lips moving as they no doubt muttered spells. While the real Neo and Viktor used wands, the prince and princess didn’t need them. Princess Imogen/Viktor consulted the parchment I’d given her with the names of all the trapped shifters on them.
Blue light radiated from their hands, growing brighter. The wooden cabinet had a few wide, deep drawers in the bottom. One flew open, several manila file folders floating out and hovering beside the prince. Several more rolled scrolls flew from the lattice of cubbies stacked on top of the drawers.
Good. It was working. Once we had the files and the notes about which potions and curses had been used to trap the shifters in animal form, the royal healers could reverse engineer cures for them. We just had to make it out of here first.
The stack of files and parchment piled up, magically hovering beside the prince and princess. I bit my lip and bounced my leg. The three hunched witches didn’t look up, but a strange, quiet noise began to fill the space. Oh, no. This had happened once before. The witches gradually hummed louder and louder. The last time they’d done this, it had summoned Ludolf.
I tried to catch the prince’s and princess’s eyes. I cleared my throat, and when Prince Harry/Neo looked my way, I flashed my eyes at him, then spoke loudly, as if to the witches. “You ladies don’t have to summon Ludolf—I’m sure he’s already on his way.”
The one by the fire glanced my way and sneered between stringy locks of her white hair. Their humming grew louder, the song some strange, eerie melody I’d never heard before. Soon their voices were echoing off the round stone walls.
“Should we, uh—come back another time?” The princess/Viktor asked. For good measure, she yanked her shoulder up toward her ear so hard, she winced and rubbed her neck after. I pinched the bridge of my nose and then waved them toward me.
“Yeah, I think we’d better.”
One of the witches at the tall table looked up, a bloody dagger in one hand and what appeared to be a dead rat in the other. “You’re not going anywhere.” Her voice came out raspy, as though she hadn’t spoken in years. I half expected moths to flutter out of her mouth.
I bit the inside of my cheek and jiggled my leg. We needed to hurry.
And then, as the prince and princess rushed toward me, skirting along the curved stone walls, the files magically hovering in tow, Ludolf himself stepped through the second entrance by the records cabinet. My breath caught. Oh, snakes.
20
Villains
I expected Ludolf to show surprise and anger, but he merely glanced around the room, his eyes half closed as though he was bored or about to yawn. “What’s all this racket about?”
The three witches looked his way, frowning. The one by the cauldron cocked her head, as though confused. “Master? We thought you’d wish to be alerted that the—”
He stepped into the room, his skeletal frame casting a long, flickering shadow in the firelight. “That the subordinates I summoned are doing my bidding?” He glared at the three women. “And?” His voice came out deadly quiet.
What was happening? My heart hammered in my chest. Had Ludolf actually sent for me and thought that this was all according to plan? Had he not noticed the dozens of files we were about to abscond with?
The prince and princess rejoined me. The prince/Neo looked as wide-eyed and frightened as I was, but the princess/Viktor had an odd smirk on her face.
The witch by the fire bent her head. “I’m sorry, master. We—we were wrong.”
“Hmph.” Ludolf strode toward us, his bony shoulders hunched into his ears, his hands stuck in the pockets of his suit trousers. “I’ll deal with you all later. See that you don’t disturb me unnecessarily again.”
I shivered as he drew closer, wishing I had my magic to defend myself with. I reminded myself that I was with two powerful swallows and a vampire. I squared my shoulders and thought of Peter and Daisy and our quiet nights curled up on the sofa together. I j
ust wanted to be there, right now, not about to have a showdown with Ludolf.
Princess Imogen/Viktor leaned close, Viktor’s high, weaselly voice coming out of her mouth. “Remember Rhonda’s vision.”
I frowned. The insane vision where the seer had claimed we could trust Ludolf?
But as the mob boss approached, he blinked slowly, lazily. He didn’t radiate the same intense, terrifying energy he usually did. He still felt massively powerful—just not quite as menacing. I blinked, confused.
He jerked his chin behind me. “Let’s take this to my chambers—I’d rather discuss it there.”
One of the witches lifted a vial of bubbling, acid-green liquid. “But—the latest cure?”
He didn’t even turn around, just lifted a long, thin hand. “Leave it.”
Princess Imogen/Viktor beamed, then sucked on her lips, and we all left the potions lair and splashed back down the tunnel. Francis winged overhead. My heart and mind raced as I tried to make sense of it all. Was I or was I not about to die?
We made it past the first bend in the tunnel and then Ludolf held up a hand and we stopped. Francis perched on a bit of protruding stone and we held still, listening. When it became clear we hadn’t been followed, Ludolf’s face disappeared, and an entirely different one took its place. A familiar one, but one I couldn’t quite place right away, until the prince and princess similarly dropped their disguises.
“Horace!” The princess threw her arms around the man’s neck and pulled him into a tight hug.
Ah. Horace. The international criminal and leader of the Badlands Army. And also, oddly, an ally of the royals and someone instrumental in bringing King Roch’s war crimes to light.
I recognized him from the old wanted posters and news articles, though he’d disappeared from the limelight for the past year or so. Apparently, his good deeds had earned him a sort of immunity—that and the fact that he was rumored to be so powerful, the kingdoms’ governments couldn’t capture him even if they wanted to.
Horace, pale, tall, and thin, though not skeletal like Ludolf, awkwardly patted the princess’s back.
Prince Harry smirked, and the men exchanged nods. The prince’s thick brows pinched together. “How?”
Francis dropped down, changing to human form in a cloud of black smoke. Horace acknowledged him with a nod. “Vampire.”
Francis looked down his long, hooked nose at him and narrowed his eyes, ringed in liner. “Criminal.”
Horace’s full lips quirked at that.
The princess pulled back to look at him and squealed. “When did you get to the island? Where have you been? How’d you know where to find us?” She beamed at him, then spun to face me. “This is Horace—he’s also a swallow like me and Hank. Horace, Jolene—Jolene, Horace.”
“Hey.” I waved a hand in greeting, and he blinked slowly. I guessed that was a greeting. The swallow part explained the convincing disguise… partly. I frowned. “How did you know what Ludolf Caterwaul looks like?”
Horace let out a heavy sigh and looked down his upturned nose at me. The man was either very handsome or very strange-looking—I couldn’t decide. “The villainous world is small in the kingdoms. Ludolf and I have crossed paths a few times.”
I frowned—sounded like there were some stories there.
“Speaking of our old friend Ludolf, anyone know where he is right now?”
We all shook our heads.
Horace blinked. “Then I propose we leave.” He turned to the princess. “I just arrived on the island. Your baking friends told me what you’d done, and I correctly assumed you’d need rescuing from destruction.”
“Aw.” Princess Imogen blew her bangs out of her eyes. “What a guy.” She playfully slugged Horace’s arm.
Prince Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “Yeah, as long as he’s on your side.”
I smirked.
A muscle in Horace’s sharp jaw twitched. “I suggest we leave before the reek of sewer permanently seeps into my clothes.” He tugged at the black blazer he wore—over a black tee, black jeans, and black boots. I could guess his favorite color.
The swallows donned their disguises again, Francis swirled into a bat, just in case, and we hightailed it out of the sewers to safety.
21
Missing Snake
The next night, Peter, Daisy, and I headed up to the station at the top of Bijou Mer. Peter had gotten a call on his communication device that Russo had some evidence in Polly Pierre’s murder he wanted to show us.
The precinct sat on the palace grounds, divided from the castle by a thick patch of brambles and a moat. With paper coffee cups in hand, we hiked up through the cobblestone streets, over the bridges that spanned the canals, with the twinkling sea below reflecting the moon.
I caught Peter watching me out of the corner of my eye for the hundredth time and lowered my cup from my lips to shoot him a flat look. “Okay—spill it. What’s on your mind?”
He pressed his lips together and looked away. “Nothing.”
Daisy, who trotted ahead of us, glanced over her shoulder and let out a quiet growl. Lie.
I nudged him until he looked at me, a little sheepish, then raised my brows. “Peter?”
He huffed. “Fine. I’m worried about you, okay? You can’t just—” He spluttered, waving his coffee cup hand about. “—wander into the sewers with a bunch of strangers like that. What if Ludolf had actually caught you?” His brows pinched together, his eyes pleading. “I’d never see you again, just like that.”
I let out a heavy sigh, and my shoulders slumped. I edged closer and slid an arm around his trim waist, snuggling against his side. “Aw.” I grinned up at him, batting my lashes. “You just care about me.”
He raised his brows and shook his head, lips pursed. “I’m not being cute. I’m upset.”
I smirked and tipped my head from side to side. “Well, the two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
He huffed again, and I sobered up. “Look, yes, they were strangers, but they were the snakin’ prince and princess, for sand’s sake.” I raised my brows. “Two powerful shifters and their vampire bodyguard—I was in good company.”
Peter didn’t say anything, but his expression softened a little as we continued to climb the winding streets. I snuggled closer to his side. “Plus, even if Ludolf caught me and the worst happened, you’d still see me again.”
He frowned down at me, confused.
“I’d definitely haunt you. Chase off all your future potential girlfriends.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head again. “Not funny. I was seriously worried about you.”
“Okay, okay.” I lifted my chin and shot him an earnest look. “Honestly, it was a calculated risk. And that was probably the safest I’ve been going down there to see Ludolf.”
He raised his brows and nodded.
“And I promise not to go down there again if I can help it. Not until we catch that sea slug and throw him behind bars.”
Peter breathed out a sigh. “Good. Thank you.”
I gave him a small smile. “Plus, I may have played it a little fast and loose in the past, but I have a lot of good things to live for now. I’m not going to risk that.”
He hugged me tighter to his side.
“Though.” I held up a finger. “Just to be clear, I worry about you too, you know. I was down in the sewers, but you and Daisy were breaking up a potential riot and chasing down criminals—like you do every night.” I raised my brows at him. “We both have dangerous lines of work—we’re gonna be a little worried sometimes.”
He grinned at me. “True.” Then he bent and kissed the top of my head. We neared the top of the mountain, bats circling overhead across the moon, then entered through the main gates. The white baking tent loomed ahead, with the white walls of the palace reflecting the moonlight behind it.
“Want to pop in and see how the cures are coming along?”
We made our way across the grassy lawn and were shown into
the infirmary by a palace servant. Although the rows and rows of beds with their crisp white sheets lay empty, the healers, clad in bright white smocks, still moved carefully, a hush over the place. The big windows let in lots of moonlight, and a few wooden tables covered in candelabras lit the space in warm, golden light. I sniffed—the place smelled clean, of tea tree, mint, and beeswax.
We headed down the center aisle toward the tables. Princess Imogen, Prince Harry, and a few of their baking friends sat among the healers. I smirked as we neared the quiet hustle and bustle. Well, most of the beds were empty.
I crossed my arms and raised a brow at Will, who lounged on one, hands behind his head, ankles crossed. Two empty cocktail glasses rested on the end table beside him, and as I stood there staring at him, a palace servant hurried up and set down another glass topped with sliced kiwi. “Your usual, sir.”
Will peeled an eye open as the servant bowed away and caught sight of me and Peter. He lifted one hand and twiddled his fingers in greeting.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get too used to the VIP treatment—you only get to stay here temporarily, remember?”
He scoffed and grabbed the drink, moving the straw to his lips. “Listen, sister, I was born VIP, remember?” He lifted a saucy, bushy brow, and I wasn’t sure if he was just being full of himself or referencing the fact that he’d been born and raised in the upper tiers of society. Knowing Will, probably both.
“Uh-huh.” I cocked a hip. “It’s alarming that you’ve been here less than twenty-four hours and already have a ‘usual’ cocktail.”
