by Alicia Wolfe
I waited while Ruby chanted some words, sprinkling some type of magical dust over the idol. The cold winds tore some of the powder away, and they were starting to make me shiver. Ruby said another spell to protect us from the winds since her original spells had expired, then started over. Eventually, the idol started to hum and shake in Ruby’s fist. Her voice grew higher … higher…
I stuffed my fingers in my ears.
…higher still … and then cut off. When she stopped, she was breathing heavily. The idol had stopped glowing.
“Did you do it?” I said, removing my fingers.
She nodded, breathless. “I … think so. The dolls should just be dolls again.”
“Then let’s go get paid. And ditch this stupid statue.”
I took it from Ruby’s hands and stuffed it back in its pouch. Trying to recover her breath, Ruby turned back to face the front and kicked the broom into gear. In moments, we were whizzing over New York again, this time bound for Brooklyn.
We met with the Jordans and told them what had happened. They both burst into tears of relief, even the father, and I admit I teared up myself when Abby, the little girl, came out from her room to hear the news. She looked pretty shell-shocked, and I think she was too numb to understand, but I could still see the weight lift off her shoulders when she heard the dolls were now harmless and that no other children would be hurt or terrorized by them.
The Jordans wanted no part of the idol, and we weren’t really inclined to sell it to them anyway (something that was sometimes part of our service), so we took it with us back on the broom and zoomed over the city once more, this time bound for Ruby’s new fence.
“She works out of Harlem,” Ruby called over the wind, banking the broom in that direction.
I noticed an edge to her voice and didn’t have to wonder why. Our last fence, Jason, had been a friend of mine, and I knew he’d been something more to Ruby. She’d been quite hung up on the guy, actually, and no wonder. He was smart, talented and incredibly sexy. He’d liked her, too. Sadly, he’d been killed by a troll working for our nemesis, Mistress Angela, the one who had kidnapped the imp Federico. Hence the need for a new fence.
The idea of replacing Jason obviously didn’t sit well with Ruby. She still pined for him. I squeezed her shoulder, letting her know that I understood what she was feeling, and that I was there for her. She stiffened, then relaxed.
When we arrived in Harlem, Ruby set the broom down on a rooftop, then cast a spell to make it invisible. We clattered down a fire escape to an alley, then sauntered along a couple of streets before arriving at Queen’s Pawnshop (and yes, I see the irony of traveling to Harlem to get to Queen’s—har har).
Like Jason, apparently our new fence used the cover of a pawnshop to conceal her true business, or at least the business that made her the most amount of money. A few people browsed the used televisions and odds and ends, but we ignored them as we cut through the cluttered store to the counter in the back.
A stout man with thick arms, a barrel chest and an Afro with streaks of gray in it glanced up from the motorcycle magazine he was pretending to read while really keeping an eye on the customers, us in particular.
“Titus, we’re here to see Selma,” Ruby said. “I’m Ruby, remember me? I called ahead?”
Titus grunted. “I know who you are.” He set the magazine down, lurching to his feet. “You got the store,” he told a younger man, also behind the counter. He was the only other visible employee. The young guy, who’d been playing a game on his phone, groaned and reluctantly put the device away.
“I got it,” he said.
The older man, who might have been his father, snorted. To Ruby and me, he said, “Come on, then. Let’s get you taken care of before Dale starts jonesing for his game. Someday he’ll learn.”
“Whatever,” Dale said, but I could see him stuff his hands in his pockets as if to prevent himself from reaching for the phone again.
Titus led us into the back of the shop, a murky warren of rooms and short halls. He brought us to the main office. Its door was closed, and he gestured to some seats along the wall.
“Selma’s taking a meeting, but she’ll be done soon,” he said. “Why don’t you two get comfortable till she’s done?”
He didn’t pause to see if we would obey but ambled back to the store. Ruby and I eyed the tattered chairs, shrugged, and sat down.
“It’s a family business,” she told me. “Titus is Selma’s husband. She’s the boss. I picked them because they only sell the stolen magical items to honest people.”
“Honest, huh?”
“You know what I mean. Their clients don’t use the magical items for evil purposes.”
I patted the pouch where the demonic idol was. “What good purpose can this be put to? A paperweight?”
I really wanted to know, too. Most items we stole could be resold with a clean conscience, but I wasn’t sure about this one. I had half a mind to tell Rubes that we should just go home. We’d gotten paid by the Jordans, and that might be all the loot we would get for this job. The best thing to do might just be to destroy the damned idol and be done with it.
I could see some of these thoughts play across Ruby’s face, too. Looking unconvinced by her own reasoning, she said, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. We’ll see. And if it can’t be used benevolently, we’ll burn it.”
“Fine by me.”
Ruby busied herself by grabbing a fashion magazine and skimming through it. There were several ‘zines, as if this were a dentist’s office or something. I didn’t have the patience to read at the moment, so I let my shifter senses stretch out. I could hear vague words coming from behind the closed door, and they sounded heated. Curious, I dialed into the sounds and listened in. I know, eavesdropping is wrong, but it’s given me a leg up more than once.
“…know you have it,” a voice said.
“And I’m telling you, I don’t,” said another.
“Barrol assured me you had precisely what I was looking for.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but Barrol was wrong. I can tell you it isn’t the first time.” This voice belonged to a woman, most likely Selma Queen, but the first voice, the angrier one, was male.
Sounding as if he was just barely containing his fury, he said, “If I find out you’re lying about this, you will have to face my master’s wrath. He’s very keen to get his hands on that imp.”
I sat up so suddenly that I startled Ruby. She glanced at me in alarm. I shook my head, motioning to the closed door. Understanding settled on her face, and she frowned at me.
“Don’t judge me,” I whispered, and tried to resume listening.
Before I could, the door was wrenched open and a tall man with pale skin and long flaxen hair emerged, looking pissed off. He wore elegant eveningwear that looked completely out of place here, and really anywhere else in modern human society, more to the pity. Magic emanated off him. I’d been around the Fae enough to know one when I saw one. This dude was all Fae, and not one I recognized.
He barely gave Ruby and me a glance as he stalked past us toward the front. Thinking quickly, I stood up suddenly and bumped into him. He glared at me in affront and stepped back.
“What is the meaning of this?” he said.
I batted my eyes at him. “You’re Fae, aren’t you? I just love Fae.” I licked my lips and placed a hand on my hips, trying to make the most of my figure.
Ruby stared at me liked I’d gone mad.
The Fae, however, just sniffed. “I have no interest in mortals,” he scoffed, and shoved past me.
As he went, I plucked out one of my hairs, wincing just a little, and stuck it to his back. When he glanced at me over his shoulder, I pretended to stroke him lovingly. He sniffed again and continued on. In moments he was out of sight.
Grinning, I turned back to Ruby. She was now looking at me in a more admiring, calculating way.
“You want me to track him, don’t you?” she said, keeping her voice low.
/> “Can you do it?”
“With your hair to anchor the spell…” She closed her eyes and said a few words under her breath. “There, it’s done. I caught him just before the hair fell off.” She shook her head, half rueful, half admiring. “That was some really quick thinking, sis.”
My lips curled mischievously. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
A tall black woman stepped out of the office, her gaze going from Ruby and me to the far end of the hall, as if to make sure the Fae had gone. She’d obviously waited a moment to give him time to make his exit. There was no love lost between her and him, that was for sure. Just who had he been, anyway? I knew only one thing, and that was he, or rather his master, was after Federico. The imp he spoke of just had to be Federico, right? There couldn’t be two imps being sought by nefarious groups at the same time in the same city.
Right?
“Ruby,” Selma Queen said, and smiled. She had a great smile. She wore a yellow African-style dress almost to her ankles with an equally yellow headdress, and she had the smoothest, darkest skin I’d ever seen. The clearest, too. I was jealous. She shook Ruby’s hand, and when Ruby introduced me, she shook mine, too.
“Come in, come in,” Selma said, gesturing us into her office. It was small but neat, and the shelves were lined by tiny figures of giraffes. She boasted a whole collection of giraffe figures, and I didn’t have to wonder why. She was well over six feet tall, after all. I’d probably love tall animals, too, if I were that high off the ground. Sadly, I would be more into mice than giraffes if collecting animal statues was my thing. Sitting down behind her desk, she said, “What have you got for me today?”
Ruby turned to me. With more flourish than strictly necessary (or was it? I mean, is flourish ever a bad thing?) I withdrew the idol of the ur-demon Nubla Kir.
“If you like weird statues, I’ve got one for you,” I said.
Selma frowned at me. I sighed.
In the end, we settled on a dollar amount much lower than we should’ve to judge by the obvious power of the figurine as evidenced by all the dolls that had nearly killed Ruby and me. Then again, Selma intended for it to be stripped of its magical properties and sold to one of several collectors of occult items that she knew, so we wouldn’t have expected top dollar, anyway. That was the price we paid for having a conscience. On the other hand, if I hadn’t been such a smartass, we probably could have done at least a little better.
Ruby shared this opinion, it turned out, and she wasted no time telling me all about it as we made our way back to her broom after completing the transaction.
“Whine whine whine,” I said. “Anyway, it’s done. We got rid of the stupid idol, and it’s in safe hands now.”
Ruby groaned dramatically. “Next time, let me do the talking. You do the burglaring, I’ll do the negotiating.”
“Fine.”
We reached the rooftop and she decloaked the broom. As I was climbing on behind her, I said, “Are you still tracking Mr. Fancypants?”
She kicked the broom into gear and we lifted off. My belly flipped as it always did to see the ground recede below us. Nice, solid, stable ground, I miss you.
“I’ve still got him,” she said. “Although why I should go through so much trouble for you I really don’t know.”
“This is why: that asshat’s master wants to contain Federico.”
She gasped. “The imp?”
“That’s right. He was trying to buy something from Selma that would contain or bind Federico. That must mean the group of Fae they represent know where Federico is. And that means the Fae you’re tracking is now my only lead to rescuing Federico and stopping Mistress Angela’s evil plans. Whatever they are.”
Ruby swallowed, suddenly understanding the importance. This went way beyond our usual sibling bickering.
This could be something that helped save the world.
“Then all right,” she said, her voice suddenly raw. “I guess it’s a good deal I’ve locked in on him.”
We skimmed over the rooftops for twenty minutes or so, talking little, and finally slowed down in the heart of Manhattan.
“This is where he is,” Ruby said, casting another cloaking spell over us.
I surveyed a collection of bars and nightclubs. “Where?”
Ruby pointed. “There.”
Below us blazed the brightest nightclub of them all. It was also one with an infamous reputation for harboring criminal and magical transactions.
“Behold,” Ruby said. “The Inferno.”
I blew hair out of my face. “Turn this broom around, Rubes. We’ve got to go home first.”
“Why?”
I smiled. “To change clothes, of course!”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Hell no, babes. The assholes who know where Federico is are in that club. The guy you tracked must be reporting to his master, whoever that is, and he must be in the Inferno.”
Ruby paused, then laughed. Turning back to me, she smirked. “You mean,” she said slowly, “to save the world, we have to party?”
I waggled my own eyebrows. I was much better at it than she was, and I was able to give my expression the proper wickedness. At least, I thought so. “That’s right,” I said. “And what do the McClaren sisters do when it’s time to party?”
As one, we said, “Diva up!”
Chapter 8
Heads turned as Ruby and I made our way along the sidewalk toward the club entrance. We hadn’t taken as much time primping as we sometimes did, but we had to look the part, so we hadn’t skimped too much, either.
Ruby wore a blue strapless dress with earrings inset with blue stones, along with a sparkling blue crystalline necklace. Somehow, she managed to make it work wonderfully with her red hair, aiding the color motif with a pin sparkling with a blue stone in her hair. I wore a slinky purple mini-dress with purple earrings and black pumps that matched my hair, while the purple matched my highlights. Of course, over our cute outfits we wore faux-fur coats, as it was still winter and freezing in New York City, and the owners of the Inferno hadn’t magically heated their sidewalk like some clubs did.
“A trial by fire,” I told Ruby as we took our places in line.
Shivering, she said, “Or ice.”
She withdrew the heating stone she used to keep herself warm on her broomstick, and we relished its heat while we waited. Others in line looked on jealously. A lot of them were upscale goths and would-be witches.
“I’m definitely getting a supernatural feel from this place,” Ruby said, not staring at them but at the walls, as if peering inside the building.
“That’s their thing,” I said. “I’ve never been here, but I’ve heard about it. Pandora’s Box tries to be sexy and magical and free. This place goes for more of a sinister hellish vibe. The party of the damned, you know.”
“I just hope their heater works.”
I could see her excitement. Her eyes were wide, and she couldn’t stop smiling. She’d only legally been allowed to go clubbing for a month or two, but she’d been too busy working to do much of that, so the city’s nightlife was still very new to her.
The line moved briskly, and shortly the two bouncers turned to us. Both were dressed in black robes and hoods with weird windows cut in their torso’s fronts, so all that could be seen were their gleaming abs and pecs, like a pair of Chippendales executioners.
“I don’t know whether to be creeped out or turned on,” Ruby said on our way inside.
“I think that’s the point,” I said. “And remember, this is your sister you’re talking to. There may be some things I don’t want to know.”
She rolled her eyes. A man wearing a gimp outfit took our coats and gave us a ticket, and we poured into the main room. Heat enfolded us, and I began to relax. They did have a heater, and it was cranked up high. I guess that fit with the tone of the place. There were pictures of flames on the walls and even statues of flames sticking up everywhere.
Aggress
ive, doom-filled music pumped through the speakers, and people gyrated and ground to it on the dance floor. In the middle blazed a magical inferno, and its tongues of fire scorched the ceiling—not really, of course, since it was just for show, but it looked damned impressive. Er, I mean really impressive. Anyway, the dancers really did look like the damned flinging themselves around the pyre.
The press of the people helped generate heat, too. I saw more people in leather and sporting whips and canes than I’d seen outside of a bondage movie. Come to think of it, there were more here than any bondage movie I’d seen, maybe more than all of them combined. Goths and would-be witches prowled through the gathering, too.
“You should feel right at home,” I told Ruby as we edged toward the bar.
“Ha.”
We arrived and waited our turn to order drinks, then took a seat at a small table lacquered in red with bas-reliefs of flames on the tabletop. They really had a theme going, that was for sure. The bartenders, both male and female, wore devil horns on their heads … and not much else, except for straps of red leather in strategic places. I caught Ruby admiring the male bartender who’d served us as she sipped her daiquiri.
I cleared my throat. “Can you sense him? The Fae, I mean?”
Cheeks reddening, she turned back to me. “Can’t we relax for a moment?”
I tapped my wrist, as if I were wearing a watch, indicating that time was precious. “The fate of the world, kiddo.”
She sighed. “All right.” She closed her eyes for a moment, concentrated, then opened them and nodded at the ceiling. “He’s upstairs.”
A broad marble stairway led up to the second floor along one wall, and infernal clubbers trooped up and down them, some giggling or laughing. Purple lights glowed from some of their eyes. Magical drugs, I thought. Great.
