“May I see your daughter’s room?” I asked. “It would help us to get a sense of her as a person.” And we might be able to find some clue about what happened to her, I didn’t add.
“Yes,” Mrs. Thotting said, rising. “It’s right upstairs.”
We followed the parents up to Cerlina’s room, which was located just to the left of the landing. Unlike the rest of the house, it was a bit cluttered and messy, with stuffed animals scattered across the bed and the shelves, and a disorganized jumble of papers on her desk. The room smelled of candy and human girl, and I quickly sniffed out the stash of chocolate she kept under her bed. The shelf next to her desk was full to bursting with adventure novels, and amongst the jumbled papers were drawings of fantastical creatures. Undoubtedly, she had a very active imagination.
“Baine,” Annia called over by the dresser. “I found something.”
I turned to see Annia pull a glass flask from one of Cerlina’s drawers. Frowning, I went over to Annia so I could get a better look. “That looks like the kind of flask the vendors at Witches’ End use for their potions,” I said.
“Potions?” Mr. Thotting said sharply. “I don’t see why my daughter would be buying potions. She doesn’t suffer from any ailments.” He turned to his wife. “Did you buy this for her?”
“No.” The woman’s eyes were wide as she watched me take the flask from Annia. “It’s empty. Was there anything in it?”
I uncorked the glass, then took a whiff. “Yeah, there was something in here.” My nose wrinkled as I tried to identify the scent, a strange mixture of sweet and bitter. “I don’t know what the potion was, but I could identify it if I came across it again.” I glanced toward Mr. Thotting. “Do you mind if I take this?”
“Please,” he said. “Take anything you need.”
We left with the photograph and the flask, promising the Thottings that we would be in touch.
As we sped away on Annia’s steambike, I couldn’t help but wonder why a girl with such a loving and comfortable family would consider running away. Magorah knew I would have given anything to have a family like that when I was a cub. But then again, a runaway case would be so much better than a kidnapping and any of the nightmarish consequences involved in child abduction. I could only hope Cerlina was safely hidden away at a friend’s house, and that she would stay safely hidden from the merciless predators of the street until we found her.
4
“By the Ur-God,” Annia exclaimed. “You eat as much as one of my uncle’s horses!”
I grinned at Annia over my burger. “I wonder if I could out-eat a horse,” I said, then glanced down at her already-empty plate. “You couldn’t, that’s for damn sure.”
Annia huffed, leaning back against the booth. I’d insisted we stop at a diner for food before I toppled over from exhaustion. “If I ate even half as much as you did, I’d be bigger than a rhino.” She eyed me enviously. “I’d be eating cheesecake by the pound if I could keep my figure.”
I snickered, then glanced toward the passing waiter. “Maybe I’ll order some,” I said, then took another bite out of my burger.
“You’ve already ordered three burgers, two servings of fries, and a milkshake.” Annia groaned. “Do you really need to torture me by adding cheesecake to the list?”
I waggled my eyebrows at her. “I’ll share.”
We laughed, and the sound gave me pause. We were getting along. Me, the outcast shifter, enjoying a meal with the rich human girl. Could this day get any weirder?
Annia glanced at her wristwatch. “It’s getting close to end of day for Cerlina’s school,” she said. “We should head over there soon, if we want to interview her teachers and classmates.”
I nodded. “Right. No time for cheesecake.” I glanced out the window, watching humans hurry along the sidewalks as they walked past the rows of shops and businesses lining the street. It was a little strange to be eating in a Maintown diner. Maintowners occasionally hired shifters when they needed superhuman strength or senses, and Shiftertowners sometimes hired humans for jobs like bookkeeping or tax advice. But aside from work-related reasons, we didn’t often venture into each other’s territory. Case in point—I was the only shifter in the spacious diner, and it was a happening place. I’d gotten more than a few askance looks from patrons as they’d passed our booth.
“We’re also going to need to interview the uncle,” I reminded Annia. “Did we get his last name?”
“Yeah, Melan Drombus,” Annia said. “We’ll circle back to the house after we do the school interviews.” She picked up her cup of coffee, studying me over the rim as she took a sip. “Captain Galling was right. Your shifter nose does come in handy.”
“Of course it does.” I smirked. “I can sense all kinds of things that you can’t.”
Annia arched a brow. “Like what?”
“Well, if I’ve got someone’s scent, I can track them,” I said, dipping a potato fry into my tub of ketchup. “I can identify most poisons in food, drink, and even on a dead body if I get a whiff of their blood or saliva. And I can tell if someone’s upset, angry, afraid, and if they’re lying.”
Annia’s eyes widened. “Can you really?” She leaned forward a little. “You know for certain that Cerlina’s parents were telling the truth, then?”
I nodded. “To the best of their knowledge, yes. And they’re truly worried about their daughter.”
“That’s impressive.” The sincere admiration in Annia’s voice caught me off guard. “Perhaps we should work together more often. I usually work solo, but we could solve cases a lot faster by working together.”
“Maybe,” I hedged, not willing to commit so easily. I was warming up to Annia a bit, but that didn’t mean I wanted to regularly split bounties with her. And once I got used to running cases, I didn’t think I would need her.
“I’ve heard that you live with Shiftertown Inspector Tillmore,” Annia said. “Why don’t you live with the Jaguar Clan? You are a jaguar shifter, aren’t you? And you carry the Baine name.”
“It’s complicated,” I said, a little more sharply than I intended. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“All right, then.” Annia looked slightly disappointed, but, to my relief, she didn’t press. I wasn’t about to tell her that my aunt had thrown me onto the streets, or that I was a hybrid. She could assume I was a full shifter, like almost everyone did. Even other shifters didn’t know I was half-mage—they could scent that I was a half-breed, but they all figured I was half-human, and that my shifter traits were simply more dominant.
“I wonder if the Main Crew has made any progress with that new robbery case?” I asked, changing the subject. “An enforcer came by my house this morning to ask Roanas to keep his eyes open for any strange shifters in town.”
“I can’t imagine why they’d suspect shifters,” Annia remarked. “If I were them, I’d be looking at someone in Witches’ End, since they used a sleep spell. Or maybe even a mage.”
I blinked. “That would be a ballsy move, accusing a mage of robbery. Especially since they don’t care about money.” Mages considered themselves above ‘petty’ concerns like profit, as they could produce their own gold. Said production was restricted to prevent inflation, but even so, they all lived comfortably, unlike us peons. They preferred to focus their efforts on learning and spell craft, not money.
“Still,” Annia mused, tracing invisible patterns on the tabletop with her index finger. “A mage might take up robbery just for the sport of it. You know, for adventure.”
I snorted at that, thinking of the Chief Mage and his ilk. Lord Vengar was a crotchety old bastard who cared little for the subjects of Canalo, and the Council was worse. Their only saving grace was that their self-absorbed ways meant they left us to our own devices. “I can’t see any of those guys pulling the sticks out of their asses long enough to indulge in an adventure. They love their rules and conventions way too much.”
Annia chuckled. “I can see now why
you punched Ralla in the face,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “You’ve clearly got a low tolerance for bullshit, and no filter to go along with it.”
I grinned sheepishly at that. “I’m a shifter. We’re pretty straightforward.”
“And it’s a refreshing change.” Annia pulled out her purse, then tossed a few coins on the table. “Now let’s go put that shifter nose of yours to use. We’ve got a little girl to find.”
5
“Well, that was a bust,” Annia remarked as we walked out of Mrs. Weaver’s School for Girls. “We didn’t learn anything.”
“I dunno about that,” I said as we headed for Annia’s steambike, which we’d left in the school parking lot. Teen girls dressed in school uniforms swarmed around us as we walked, chatting and giggling amongst themselves as they reveled in the freedom of finally being released from class. “Mara gave us some useful information.”
We’d interviewed Cerlina’s teacher and classmates, including Mara, Cerlina’s best friend. The pretty blonde girl hadn’t known where Cerlina could be, but hoped we’d find her soon, especially because several important tests were coming up that they were going to study for together.
“She did tell us that Cerlina’s been tense and preoccupied all week.” Annia sighed. “I just wish that she, or any of the other schoolgirls, had recognized that flask.”
I pursed my lips. “We’ll have to show it around in Witches’ End, I think. I should be able to sniff out which shop produces the potion, if they stock it regularly.”
“Should we go now?” Annia checked her watch. “The shops down there usually close around six, so we don’t have much time.”
I hesitated. “No, we should do that in the morning, when everyone is more likely to be around. For now, though, I think we should go check out some haunts Cerlina might be hiding in.”
“Haunts?” Annia frowned. “What do you mean?”
“There are various spots around town where homeless kids like to hide. I know where a few of them are.” I kept my tone casual, as if I only knew about them from passing by rather than personal experience.
We got on the bike and headed Downtown, where the unsavory souls of Solantha made their homes. The Black Market ran out of here every evening from eleven to dawn, always at a different location. The cracked, dirty streets were lined with brothels and clubs where all sorts of illegal activities took place. I instructed Annia to leave her bike in a safe parking lot just a few blocks from the border between Downtown and Maintown, and we traveled the rest of the way on foot.
“Man.” Annia wrapped her arms around herself as a chill wind whipped through the dingy streets. “I should have thought to grab a warmer jacket.”
I glanced sideways at her. “You won’t want to be encumbered by a fluffy winter coat down here,” I told her as we passed a textile warehouse. The acrid scent of fabric dye stung my nose, and I grimaced. “Not if you plan to make good use of your sword.”
The sun was hanging low in the sky now, backlighting the grimy buildings as it crept ever closer to the horizon. One by one, the gas lamps began to turn on, lighting the cracked sidewalks and illuminating the faces of those walking them. The locals were easily picked out from the ones who were just here for the thrills—the former wore threadbare, faded clothing, while the latter were well-dressed beneath their coats and cloaks. The prostitutes hanging out beneath the brothel awnings were the only spots of color in this seedy part of town—they were all dressed in skimpy outfits that allowed them to bare their wares for anyone who looked like they might have enough money to pay them. A few even reached manicured hands toward me, grazing painted fingernails against my leather-clad arm as they promised me wicked delights.
“That last offer sounded tempting,” Annia murmured with a wink, and I choked back a laugh.
“Thanks, but I don’t really swing that way.” I glanced back at the prostitute, who waved cheerfully at me. She looked like she actually wanted to be here, but then again, it was hard to tell. They painted those seductive smiles on as easily as the rest of their faces.
Ignoring the brothels, clubs, and gambling dens, I led Annia down the street, cutting toward a bridge that arched over a dirty canal. “This was one of the places I was telling you about,” I said as we walked along the sidewalk that ran along the top of the embankment. “Some kid with a spark of ingenuity built a shelter beneath the bridge. A group of kids used to stay in it.”
“Yuck.” Annia wrinkled her nose, and I couldn’t blame her—the canal water smelled foul, bringing back unpleasant memories that I deliberately pushed away. We came to a stop at just the right angle to get a good look under the bridge. “I don’t see anything,” she said after a moment. “A few planks of rotted wood, but no shelter.”
I sighed. “It must have been washed away by a flash flood. It was bound to happen at some point.” And it has been six years since I last huddled under this bridge myself, I added silently. It would have been more surprising if the shelter had managed to survive intact. I just figured there would still be kids using this spot, but apparently not. I couldn’t make out any signs of life down there, not even a sewer rat. “Let’s go with Plan B then.”
We crossed the bridge, then headed for a cluster of warehouses on the other side. I led the way around the back of a tanning factory, and my heart warmed at the sight of the grizzled old guard snoring away in his seat by the back entrance. Sure, he wasn’t the most industrious employee, but he’d let me spend many a night in this warehouse, and I’d been grateful for the shelter.
“Damn,” I muttered when I tried the rusty doorknob. “It’s locked.” I took a step back, preparing to use my brute strength to force the door open even though I didn’t want to wake the old man or scare the girls inside.
“Hang on there.” Annia laid a hand on my shoulder, then reached into an inside pocket of her leather jacket. I blinked when she pulled out a small leather case and selected one of a dozen shiny lock picks inside. She jimmied the tiny metal rods into the lock. In less than a minute, I heard a decisive click as the lock disengaged.
“Not bad for a rich girl,” I teased as she put the picks away.
Annia stuck her tongue out at me. “I don’t have super strength, or an internal lie detector, so I’ve gotta get by somehow.”
She pushed the door open, and I cringed as it squealed loudly. Small feet scrambled frantically against the cement flooring inside, and my heart jumped in my chest. “Wait!” I called, keeping my voice low. “We’re not here to hurt you! We’re just looking for a friend.”
“That’s what they all say,” a dark-skinned girl accused, meeting my gaze boldly. She stood behind a small fire that had been set up in the middle of the concrete floor, along with six other girls who gaped fearfully at us. The girl who’d addressed us pulled a knife from her boot and brandished it, and the others assumed threatening poses, though they kept well behind her. “We’re not going to let you take us.”
“We’re not here to take you any place you don’t wanna go,” Annia said soothingly. She held up both hands, and I followed suit. “We’re just looking for a girl whose parents are very worried about her. Do you mind if I show you her picture?”
The dark-haired girl measured us for a long moment, her golden-brown eyes taking in our bracelets. “You’re from the Enforcer’s Guild.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” I met her hard stare. She couldn’t be more than fourteen, but the girl who stared back at me out of that brittle face was far older than her undernourished body. “We’re looking for a girl named Cerlina, around ten years old. Have you seen her?”
The girl shook her head. “Don’t know anyone by that name.” She glanced around at the other girls, who hadn’t moved a muscle. “Any of you know her?” The girls all shook their heads, and their leader shrugged. “Nope, no one here.”
“Oh, come on.” I planted my hands on my hips. “You guys don’t always use your real names with each other. I know I didn’t when I stayed here.”<
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The girl’s eyes widened. “You stayed here?” She looked me up and down again. “You don’t look like someone who grew up on the streets.”
I shrugged, ignoring Annia’s curious stare. “I wasn’t out here for that long—maybe six months before I was taken in. But I remember what it was like. The constant gnawing hunger. The feeling that you could never quite get warm enough, or comfortable enough. The twenty-four/seven exhaustion, because you always had to keep an ear open at night in case the pimps came stumbling into your hideout.”
The leader’s gaze softened a little, and the other girls seemed to relax as well. “Let’s see the picture,” she said, gesturing impatiently for us to step forward. “We get a few new faces popping in every now and then.”
We closed the distance, and Annia silently handed Cerlina’s picture over to the girl. As the other girls gathered around to look at the photograph, I took a moment to study them. They ranged between ten and fourteen, dressed in torn jeans, sweaters, and coats that were clean enough, though worse for the wear. They wore their hair in ponytails or messy buns back from their gaunt faces, and though my nose twitched at the greasy smell of unwashed hair, their faces were clean. They probably sponge bathed themselves whenever they could. Scattered on the floor around the fire were thin pallets and threadbare blankets. In the far corner was a cracked sink and a metal toilet that I didn’t remember seeing the last time I was here. Guess the place had gotten an upgrade.
“Sorry,” the dark-haired girl said, handing the photograph back to Annia. “We haven’t seen her around. She might be hiding out in a different part of town, if she hasn’t been taken.”
Not Just Voodoo Page 33
