To be clear: I don’t like dogs. However, one sliver of my cold, dead heart was apparently susceptible to puppies in distress. I’d been too late to save Tatiana from the murderer and too young to save my thirteen-year-old self’s magic from my father’s schemes, but dammit, I could do something now.
Arkady helped me kneel down beside the crate. This close to the small ocean of pee, I prayed I’d go nose-blind. The cage was padlocked, but I made short work of it.
The dogs had been locked inside away from their empty bowls, so I opened the crate door as wide as it would go. “Okay, little guys, come on out.”
The animals crowded farther back.
“Miles? Could you?” I gestured to the dry dog food in the corner.
He filled them and three of us stood in the doorway, giving the animals a chance to leave the crate. The first one to do so was a tiny, sandy-colored pug. The puppies were so jammed up close that it kind of flopped forward in a half-somersault.
“Mazel tov,” I said. “It’s a girl.”
She cautiously waddled over to a bowl, glancing at us every few seconds to make sure we didn’t move. Once she’d ascertained that it was safe to eat and drink, she took her share and then coaxed the others out with a combination of nips and encouraging licks.
I sent Arkady for three warm wet towels. Each of us crept—or hobbled—toward one of the puppies to try and clean it off. No go. As soon as we got close, they yipped and bolted. It was like herding cats.
“What did that bitch do to them?” Arkady said.
I crouched down, cooing softly at the pug. For every step she took toward me, she took two back, but eventually she got close. I held out the towel for her to sniff, and when she didn’t run, gently wiped off her ears.
The pug gave a satisfied huff and some of the tension left her body.
“Why lock dogs up in a soundproofed room?” I said.
The pug sniffled, as if wondering that herself, then she got this constipated expression on her face and her skin rippled.
Even as a non-dog person, I knew that wasn’t standard behavior.
I scrambled back, wincing, as fleshy, wet tentacles exploded from her head, inset with teeth. So many teeth.
“That’s why,” Arkady said.
“Make it go away,” Miles said.
“I refuse to Cruella de Vil this puppy.” I skittered out of the way of a tentacle, flicking out at me like a wet towel.
“Did I say to skin and wear them?” Miles sidestepped a freaked-out poodle with a balletic elegance someone that massive should not have possessed. “The dog’s been infused with magic somehow.”
“You think?”
The poodle ran around in manic circles before breaking out in red eyes all over its body. This set off a Frankenstein chain reaction with one puppy bursting into flame, a black-and-white mutt sprouting a hammer head, and a black lab with electric magic exploding out of it, bumping on its ass around the room.
Favoring my good ankle, I lunged for one of the pug’s tentacles. It snapped back and hit my hand with a wet, meaty splat, the teeth almost breaking skin. I shuddered, lost my grip, and had to try again.
Arkady dove for the hammer-headed mutt before its flailing broke someone’s foot. With both of his fists once more stone, he pinned the thrashing animal in place. “That is not behavior agreed on by the Geneva Accords, Colonel Puppy.”
Miles had cornered the one that was flaming like a tiki torch. Cupping two large balls of flame in his palms, he stared it down until the dog acknowledged his alpha and rolled over, presenting his fiery belly.
Arkady nudged the pug away from the hammer-headed mutt before it could smash one of her tentacles. “Aw. The pug looks like my great-aunt Hyun-Mi. She had dental issues, too.”
“Not funny.” I glared at him.
“Gallows humor, pickle. You got this.”
With a silent wish that I didn’t hurt the poor thing, I hooked into the magic swimming through her tiny, panting body, shuddering at the sensation of pointy enamel embedded in wet flesh.
The magic in the pug didn’t feel like third-party smudges, which smelled like feces and felt like maggots. First of all, it was nowhere near as strong, and second of all, there were too many scents and tastes mixed up here. I tasted four: mint, fish, salt, and chalk. But I couldn’t discern the type of magic they represented.
I probed deeper, my brow furrowing. When the smudges had jumped into new hosts or someone was attacked with magic, like when a Medusa had turned my right side to stone, that invasive magic floated free inside a person.
“How is this even possible?” I said.
“What?” Arkady caught the hammer head mutt as he slipped loose, readjusting his grip on the puppy.
“The magic is knotted to them.”
“Like with a magic artifact?” Miles said. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m not. Tatiana got multiple Nefesh to infuse their magic into this pug and then knotted the powers together to bake them in. Like with an inanimate object.” I raised stricken eyes to the men. “Except these are living creatures with organs and hearts.”
Tiki torch puppy gave a heart-wrenching little wail. Miles stroked its tiny body, murmuring soothing words, before nailing me with a scowl. “Fix this, Cohen.”
“You think I don’t want to? This is uncharted territory,” I said, grabbing hold of the pug on her least toothy side. “What if I pull it out and yank a kidney with it? I could kill them.”
Tentacle pug whimpered. If Tatiana wasn’t dead, I’d have rained hell on her ass. The magic was so unstable that it was ripping these poor dogs apart.
I used my scary “don’t die” voice that I used on Moriarty and hoped the puppy responded better than the car did.
“Wait.” Miles pulled out his phone and began recording. “We’ll document it for Levi.”
“Or in case we have to answer for our actions later,” Arkady said.
“Oh good, if I mess up this gets to be puppy snuff theater.” Holding the pug in place, I sent my magic along the snare of knots inside her, searching for a weak point. A loose end that wasn’t fused to the puppy herself.
I found the end of the tangle, like a tied-off thread, near her left front paw. Closing my eyes, I visualized my magic as a needle piercing the center of that thread. Instead of pulling the invasive magic out to tangle in my branches, I fed a single hair-thin red branch into the first knot and made my white clusters bloom on it, dissolving the knot.
I cracked one eye. The dog panted shallowly, but she wasn’t fighting me, so I continued along the spiderweb to the next knot and the next set of white clusters. By the time I’d dissolved all the knots and pronounced her magic-free, I was crashed on my ass, with my throbbing injured leg stretched out, and my shirt clinging sweatily to my back.
“One down, four to go,” Miles said, tapping the button on his camera app to end the video and start another. “Let’s see it, Cohen.”
I bit my lip, my stomach churning. Flawlessly perform high-stakes magic surgery four more times?
The pug weakly licked my hand before growling at the eye-laden poodle who’d snuck closer, while the lab shot past, bumping along the ground in a propulsion of electricity.
I exhaled sharply and shook out my hands. I was all these puppies had. “Can you hold the fireball down?”
“Yes.” Miles passed his phone to Arkady.
“Bring it here.”
One by one, I wrangled the puppies and removed their magic. The lab almost fried me and the mutt tried to take a chunk out of my arm with its hammer head, but all of us survived.
Arkady placed his hand on the back of my neck, then snatched it back with a grimace, making a big show of wiping it on his jeans. “Wow, sweat monster. You okay?”
“Peachy.”
“What kind of magic was on the yarn?” Miles took his phone back and stuffed it in his pocket.
“Good job, Ash,” I said. “Thank you so much for your valuable service and for being
super careful not to kill any of these poor dogs with magic you yourself barely understand.”
“The yarn?”
“You are literally the worst. If I had to guess, it was level five Animator magic.” I held out a hand and Arkady helped me up once more, supporting my weight.
The puppies had gotten their second wind, running around the space and tumbling on top of each other.
“Yevgeny was killed at a dogfighting ring, right?” Arkady said.
“Right.”
“Having animals with magic opens up gambling opportunities,” he said, “since it’s no longer down to mass and muscle. But to do this to animals is totally unethical and cruel. They do not and should not have magic.”
“Was this something that Tatiana and her brother did on their own or was it part of a bigger Chariot plot?” Miles said.
“I’m going to pay a visit to the men we apprehended from Chariot’s lab,” Arkady said. “Get some answers out of them.”
“By way of…?” I mimed throwing punches.
“Miles doesn’t let me beat people up. He’s a stickler for doing things by the book.” Arkady pouted.
“We don’t want any reason for the courts to toss the case. It’s bad enough that the only charge we could get them on was kidnapping,” Miles said. “Most of the evidence was in the lab that they’d set up in Hedon. The facility here was barely more than a holding cell for those kids. Nor do we want to pour fuel on the fire with allegations of Nefesh brutality.” Miles’ brown eyes turned flinty. “Though I doubt you’ll get far. Some high-powered lawyers got involved and transferred the suspects to a maximum security facility.”
“So?” I said.
“The men are Mundane. They’re out of our jurisdiction now.”
“There are still legal ways to gain access to question them,” Arkady said, disengaging the black-and-white mutt’s teeth from the hem of his jeans. The puppy took it as a cue that this was their new game and dug into the cloth with renewed vigor.
I raised my voice to be heard over all the barking. “I think I have my answer to the lack of a ward on this house. You saw how the dogs reacted when the magic burst out of them. They were a danger to themselves and anyone around them.”
Wards worked differently than artifacts. The magic was overlaid onto an object instead of directly injected into it and then permanently fused together.
“Right. Wards sense hostile intent,” Miles said. “Tatiana had to disable the ward whenever she worked on the puppies because they’d attack and subsequently be frozen with their magic neutralized, which would make it impossible for Tatiana to carry out these freakish experiments.”
“Chances are she usually did have a ward in place,” Arkady said, “she just hadn’t reactivated it.”
Miles eyed the crate with distaste. “I’m not putting them back in there. The cops can speculate about what went on in this room. Ark, help me gather up the puppies. We have to get them to the animal rescue shelter. We can phone the murder in on the way.”
“Ark? Whatever could have earned him name-shortening privileges?” I said.
“Absolutely nothing.” Arkady tossed the crate into the corner, where it hit the wall with a jarring clang.
“Arkady,” Miles warned.
Arkady snapped off a sarcastic salute, and picked up the mutt.
“Jesus.” Miles bent down to grab the pug, but she dashed between his large hands and beelined for me.
“Oh no, dog.” I backed up, favoring my left leg. “I have a fifteen-year-old mystery involving my father to solve. I don’t have time for you.”
She thumped her tail imperiously twice.
“I’m allergic?”
She growled at me.
“Fine.” I crossed my arms. “I’ll come to the animal rescue, but that’s it. We will not play with slobbery toys.”
The tentacles and teeth had vanished, only to be replaced with something much worse: big, chocolatey puppy-dog eyes.
I tsked. This was basic, level-one con techniques: don’t let yourself get suckered. “Nice try, dog. Save it for someone who likes your kind.”
Chapter 3
Three hours later, the pug had been given a clean bill of health, a bunch of shots, and a ride to my house.
Arkady lugged all the dog supplies I’d hobbled around a pet store to buy up the stairs, along with Gavriella’s lockbox. Meanwhile, I guarded with my life the bottle of wine I’d also picked up.
The dog pranced ahead of us, her new leash trailing on the ground.
“Are you freaking serious?” Priya pulled the front door open, her hands on her hips. “You stuck around some dead woman’s home?” she fumed. “Were you hoping the murderer came back and upped their body count?”
“Arkady, you rat.” I bent down for the leash. “When did you have time to even phone her?”
“Ash got a dog,” he said, and dumped all the purchases into Priya’s arms. Then he fled for the safety of his apartment.
Priya’s eyebrows shot into her hairline at the sight of the pug.
“Arkady slept with Miles,” I called out.
“Reeaaallly?” Priya stepped forward, “interrogation” written all over her face.
Arkady got his door unlocked and practically flung himself into his apartment. “Girl questions are strictly verboten,” he said, his left eyebrow spasming, and slammed the door.
Ooh. Arkady had a tell. I’d seen him pull off undercover work, cool as a cucumber, but lean on him about his personal life and he got twitchy. No. That wasn’t exactly it either. He was very comfortable deflecting with over-the-top sexual innuendo, but he was really upset about whatever had gone wrong between them. Vulnerable. That’s where he got twitchy. Interesting.
Priya wrinkled her nose at the shut door, set the pet store purchases in the foyer, then crouched down and held out her hand. “Is this supposed to be a guard dog?”
“She’s a temporary visitor. I wouldn’t get a pet without speaking to you first.”
The pug sniffed the outstretched hand, then warily nuzzled her nose into Priya’s palm. “Does she have a name?” Priya said.
“Mrs. Hudson.” I waved my hands, hoping to avoid further questions. “Look, it was the only thing I could think of on the spot and the vet needed something quick.”
Priya’s donkey-like braying laugh filled the foyer. “You Sherlock-named her?” She scratched the puppy’s head, making kissing noises. “Who’s a pretty girl who’s living here forever? You are.”
“Okay, no.” I smacked her hand away. “This weird baby shit is exactly why I am not a puppy person and will not be keeping her. I just wasn’t about to call her ‘dog’ all the time like a preschooler. The rescue shelter was full, and I was too tired to drive to the one on the other side of town, but as soon as I can find her a good home, she goes away.”
My work wasn’t conducive to having a dog. Mrs. Hudson deserved stability and a loving family.
“Uh-huh.” Pri’s green eyes narrowed doubtfully at me. “Come eat. There’s Chinese take-out if you want some.”
I was running low and scraped raw and I needed solitude to recharge, but Priya had never counted as company. She was just my Pri, and I could de-stress around her as easily as by myself in my bedroom. But something niggled at me. I squinted, calling up my mental calendar. “Hold on, isn’t it Arianna’s birthday dinner tonight?”
“Wasn’t feeling it.” She grabbed the leash from me. “More fun to hang out with you and Mrs. Hudson.”
“Obviously.” Because staying in with your injured friend and a dog you’d never met trumped dinner at the Thai restaurant you’d looked forward to eating at for the past month. Worse, tonight she wore a cream cashmere sweater with jeans.
After Priya’s engagement had spectacularly blown up a few years ago, she had embraced pink the way a chocoholic embraced anything to satisfy their sweet tooth, even if it was stale chocolate chips in the back of a cupboard, poured directly into their mouth until the momentary bliss turned
to shame and the detritus of an empty bag.
Anyhow, she’d worn a lot of pink. Sure, it was some kind of ruthless happy shield, but it also fit her warm and outgoing personality. Since her abduction last week, her clothing had become as muted as her life.
“Tamarind prawns and planning that spa getaway with your book club,” I said. “You know you’d have fun.”
“Some other time,” she said. Her smiles used to light up her entire face with joy; now the ones I received were tinged with warning. “You need help walking?”
“I can hobble. But if you’d help with my boots and an ice pack, I’d be forever grateful.”
Priya led the pug into the living room, which was where we ate most of our meals.
Our two-bedroom apartment wasn’t a dump, since it had original fir floors and moldings around the windows and doors, but it only got light on one side, and there was a dark water mark from our leaky roof in the corner of the living room that we’d christened Fred, the Demon God of Moisture.
That said, it was a vaguely affordable rental unit in Vancouver which made it more precious than any water view or snazzy penthouse.
The sleek modern furniture in our living room was well beyond our pay grade, as we’d inherited it in my mother’s last remodel, but we’d stamped our personality on it. Between all our books spilling off the large bookcase, the photographic prints of foreign locales we intended to travel to, and the pops of color from pillows made from sari fabric that Priya had picked up on one of her visits to her grandparents in India, it was cozy.
It was also completely tidy.
Priya didn’t tidy. Laundry and dishes, no problem, but light cleaning? My darling friend was a little tornado of chaos, scattering her belongings around her like seeds in need of planting. I wracked my brain as to how this could have happened. There were no guests to impress and I didn’t smell cumin or garam masala, so her mother hadn’t stopped by. That left a frenetic cleaning outburst because she was worried about something.
Shadows & Surrender: A Snarky Urban Fantasy Detective Series (The Jezebel Files Book 3) Page 3
