Gray tidings, p.12
Gray Tidings, page 12
“You want to spend your weekend here? With us? Hunting a sea monster?”
“Sea monster?” She choked and coughed to clear her throat. “Are you for real?”
“Did I forget to mention that part?”
“Derry will crap his pants over this.” Her laughter ran wild down the line. “First Old Man Fang. Now a sea monster. Keep it up, and you’ll never get rid of us.” A door opened and shut. “Text us where you’re staying. We can sleep on the floor. In fur, if necessary. See you soon.”
The call ended before I got a handle on what had happened, and I stared at my phone like it was the one to blame before sending over the marina’s address. “We’re having company.”
“I heard.” Asa studied me from the corner of his eye. “That was unexpected.”
“Aww.” Clay formed a heart with his hands. “Rue made a friend.”
“I should call her back.” I swallowed. “Tell her we don’t have anywhere for them to stay.”
“We’ll make it work.” Asa rested a hand on my thigh. “We could use the extra noses.”
“Tracking will be a nightmare,” Clay agreed. “Too many people, too many competing scents.”
“What about Colby?” I shouldn’t have made the call. “She can’t hide out for a whole weekend.”
Expecting her to hole up for three days was too big of an ask. I couldn’t do that to her. It wasn’t fair.
“What if I claim a bunk?” Clay grew thoughtful. “I don’t need the bed, but it would give Colby her own space when the wargs are in-house. I can stay up all night on the bench, and she can hang out in there.”
“They’ll smell her.” I worried my bottom lip. “Or hear her.”
“Did you know witches exist?” He tugged the ends of my hair. “I hear they can even cast spells.”
“I don’t know.” I picked at my nails. “I don’t want Colby to feel excluded.”
“Colby doesn’t know you, me, Asa, or Blay exist right now,” Clay pointed out. “She’s hot on the trail of—wait for it—The Ferret.”
The hacker was asking for a cheesy nickname with that smoke trick, so I didn’t roll my eyes.
Out loud anyway.
“You can seal her in.” Asa talked over Clay. “Ward it for protection, spell it for sound, scent, and sight.”
“There is a TV…” I let them warm me to the idea. “And she has her new laptop…”
“Good.” Clay rebounded. “Then it’s settled.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Asa stared out the windshield. “How fast can a warg run?”
“Any particular reason why?” I narrowed my eyes on him. “For that matter—who’s asking?”
“Blay might be interested in a rematch.”
The last time Derry and Blay got together, they broke into a mausoleum, stole an ulna, and played fetch with it. There might have been a race prior, but the graverobbing was what I remembered the most.
“Goddess bless,” I muttered, shaking my head. “This is going to be a mess.”
We hit congestion earlier than we had yesterday and abandoned the SUV to a public parking lot to walk the rest of the way on foot. The crowds were thick, the music loud, and the rumble of distant thunder promised the humidity would be thick enough to choke on soon.
“Cut through there.” Asa gestured toward an alley that required us to walk in single file. “Turn left.”
At the end of his directions, I stepped out onto the street facing Townhouse A.
That meant the building beside us was the one The Ferret (good grief) had wanted us to rent.
Hand on the bend of my elbow, Asa drew me back into the shadows before I gave us away.
“How do we get in?” Searching for clues, I checked with Clay. “Where’s the nearest entrance?”
“That part wasn’t spelled out.”
“Spelled out?” I pinned him in my sights. “Are you joking with me right now?”
Wargs couldn’t perform magic, aside from their single gift of trading forms with their wolf half. There was no point in calling Marita again. Even if her cousin could give us a history lesson, the properties had changed hands, which meant the tunnels had been sealed after the wargs’ occupation of the buildings.
An educated guess based on the records the Kellies sent over listing only human buyers and renters over the last ten years. Hmm. Framed that way, I wondered if it had been an intentional effort to avoid paras rediscovering the tunnels and putting them back into use. If so, it was a pity it hadn’t gone to plan.
“You are a witch.” Clay leaned against the opposite building. “I thought it was funny.”
“Of course you did.”
“If there’s an exterior entrance, it could have sunk lower than street level.” Asa ran a palm down the wall. “Do you have the map of the tunnels?”
“Yeah.” I handed him my phone. “First pic is the original network. Second shows the collapsed sections.”
“The whole point of spelling a basement was to keep the death toll a secret,” Clay argued. “I don’t see it having street access. Too many people would have noticed bodies going in but not coming out.”
Closing my eyes, I placed my hand on the weatherworn brick, listening.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
On the other side of this wall, in a house that should have been empty, someone lingered in the dark.
“We should go.” I withdrew slowly. “Let’s work on identifying the exit rather than the entrances.”
The guys didn’t question me, and we retraced our route into the chaos of the party spilling out from Bourbon Street.
“What was that?” Clay carved us a path. “What happened back there?”
“Someone was in the house.”
“It’s for rent.” Asa moved to flank me. “It could be the new tenant.”
“The lights were out,” Clay reminded him, “but it could have been a bedroom for all we know.”
“Either way,” I settled the debate, “I didn’t want them to notice us poking around their place.”
The smells of sweat, Old Bay, and sunscreen climbed in my nose and infected my brain with the throbbing cadence of the myriad heartbeats thundering around me in joyful abandon.
“Rue.” Asa pulled me to a stop and cradled my face in his hands. “Breathe.”
“I’m trying.” Clutching his wrists, I did as I was told. “There are just so many…”
Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum.
Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum.
Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum.
The beats filled my soul, music to my ears.
Water pooled in my mouth, and I swallowed convulsively to keep from drooling.
“She’s picking up on something powerful.” Clay scanned the crowd. “She wouldn’t break down like this for a nonmagical source.”
New Orleans brimmed with power, and magical practitioners. There was no shortage of temptation.
“I’ve got it under control.” I withdrew from Asa, reclaimed my phone, and began tracing the paths Colby had marked for us, determined to beat this. “Let’s try Washington Artillery Park. It’s on Decatur Street.”
The farther from the closely packed bodies and their salty-sweet vitality, the better.
“This looks promising.” Asa kept his eyes on me. “There’s direct access to the Mississippi River.”
Sure enough, the park sat across from Jackson Square, right along the riverfront.
“Lots of places for a secret entrance.” Clay turned a slow circle. “Any ideas where to start?”
“A big red X would make it too easy.” I, however, liked easy. “Let’s begin with the cannon.”
A Civil War era replica cannon sat on a raised platform, pointing toward the river, its base shrouded in marble plaques. As far as secret entrances go, it would be a painfully obvious one. But the tunnels predated the park, so the wargs might have had to make do to keep their existing structures in place.
“This one.” Asa had barely gotten within six feet of the cannon before he zeroed in on a plaque detailing the purpose of the monument. “There must be a way to open it.” He leaned in, filling his lungs. “It smells of death and mold.”
From where I stood at the front, where the park’s name had been inscribed, three plaques spanned the left and right sides. He was adamant about the right center being our way in, and I trusted his instincts.
“Let me see what I can do to conceal us.” I rested a hand on his arm, and the familiar spell sprang to my fingertips. I pushed it out until it enveloped a portion of the monument as well. People would see it, but not us, and not any changes we made. “Can you scent any concentrated magic? Or is there a mechanism?”
“I can’t tell.” He shook his head. “It’s too faint.”
Crouching beside him, I traced the thick edges of the plaque with my wand, dowsing for a lock or hinge. I made three passes, whispering an unlocking spell as I went, and a subtle click was my reward. The plaque slid out an inch, enough for me to dig in my fingertips, and I pulled it toward me on a metal track.
“Must be original,” I murmured, noticing a latch so well hidden in the design, we missed it entirely. “Mechanical so the wargs could operate it.”
The entire section holding the plaque, marble and all, folded flat, creating a thick step. The first of many. A metal staircase disappeared below us into the dark. The hole was big enough for me to climb in with ease. Asa could make it if he wedged his shoulders just right. Clay? Not so much.
“Clay, you’re the lookout.” I willed the tip of my wand to brightness. “Asa, care for a moonlit stroll?”
Minus the moon, which would disappear within a few feet of the dank opening.
“I would be delighted.” His lips hitched to one side. “Shall I lead?”
Fingers closing over one of his braids, I gave it a hard tug. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I’m a better tracker than you.” He tapped the side of his nose then went ahead. “That’s all.”
Had I not enjoyed the view so much, I might have argued more, but I did, so I didn’t.
“I don’t like this.” Clay leaned against the monument. “Cramped quarters make using magic dangerous.”
Ricochet wasn’t just for bullets, but I had plenty of combat experience. Not as a gray witch, but still.
“I have Asa and Blay.” I patted his hand. “I’ll be okay.”
“You better be,” he grumbled. “I would have to strip and lube myself to squeeze in that tiny hole.”
“I don’t need those kinds of details about your sex life.”
“You wish I shared details.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” I plugged my ears with my fingers. “Just don’t keep telling me.”
Eager to make my escape before he scarred me for life, I began the descent. Twenty-five steps later, I stood in a tunnel the height and width of a generous door. Already, I regretted brushing off Clay’s warning about close quarters. Close was one thing. This was downright claustrophobic.
Asa stood a few feet ahead, scenting the air. He gave me a nod and set out, leaving me to follow him. By unspoken mutual agreement, we kept quiet as we padded around and around the mildew-rich labyrinth.
“Beeswax,” he said softly. “Someone was burning candles.”
“Do you hear that?” I cocked my head, and what I heard urged me forward. “Over there.”
Instinct guided me deeper into the maze until a glimmer of light pulled me up short.
“Rue Hollis,” said the woman who delivered our RV. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you.”
“How did you know where to find us?”
“Nan has done everything short of knock on your door, take you by the hand, and lead you here.” Her laugh was as cold and flat as her eyes. “I didn’t find you. You finally found me.”
“Nan is The Ferret.”
“The Ferret?” Amusement curved her red lips. “Oh, she won’t like that. Her signature is a mink.”
Minks were vicious, aggressive, and ruthless. Not a bad choice of emblem for a black witch.
“The Kellies didn’t find my backdoor, did they?” I studied her, curious if she would react to the name of the Black Hat hacker duo. “Nan did.”
As usual, she gave nothing away, but I didn’t see the harm in naming the Kellies when she had to be a rogue agent herself. Even if by some miracle she wasn’t Bureau, Nan would have told her who they were up against.
“You don’t have a backdoor. You have a door, one down a long and winding hallway.”
That sounded…bad. Very, very bad. Even for a computer illiterate like me.
Nan must have infected Colby via the Kellies rather than through the security system on Townhouse A.
All she had to do was wait for us to arrive, activate her protocol, and alert her coconspirator.
“The RV delivery was, what, for funsies? Do you know how embarrassing it is to stay in that eyesore?”
“Had you rented the townhouse, you wouldn’t have that problem. Nan even created a custom listing for you on your rental site of choice.”
That explained why VacayNStay got hit, but it was a clumsy effort. The lack of subtlety screamed trap.
“When that didn’t work, your second choice was the Strippermobile?”
“The Toussaints have a fleet of them, so they were eager to lend Nan one for her personal use while she was in town.” Her smile grew sharper. “The hotel situation is rather dismal this time of year.”
“The Toussaints had no idea you were charging us exorbitant rent for that crime against RVs.”
“The party bus was a stopgap measure to earn me an introduction to you and your team. You recognize me now. You all do. The bus gave me a plausible excuse for visiting the marina. That recognition, that plausibility, would have made you hesitate before you killed me. Those extra seconds were all I needed if I had to bring this conversation to your doorstep.”
“Any particular reason why you were in a rush for an introduction?”
A rustling noise confirmed the second heartbeat that led me to them, and a thin girl with dark skin and a vibrant scarf wrapped around her head stepped forward. Heavy cuffs made from vines bound her wrists, the thorns digging into her skin. She swayed on her bare dirty feet, and her soft brown eyes were blurry.
“This is Tibby Garnier.” The woman gripped her shoulder to steady her. “She’s the last living Lazarus.”
There was only one reason I could fathom for this unexpected meeting, and I was bitter to find myself as much a pawn as Mom had ever been.
Thanks, Gramps.
Airing our family’s dirty laundry had kicked up a stink that clung to me like black magic. “And you are?”
“Call me Luca.” At long last, her cold expression matched her empty eyes. “I’m here to broker a trade.”
Luca.
The woman who saved Dad.
The woman who foolishly believed she owned him now.
The woman who was about to get a brutal wake-up call if she cost Dad that witch.
“Of course you are.” Dread curdled my stomach. “What did you have in mind?”
“Your father wants Tibby. He can have her, after he’s fulfilled his promise.”
There was no after in that scenario for Dad. Once he killed the director, the animus vow would take his life. He wouldn’t have a use for Tibby then. Just as he had no use for Luca now.
“Why does he want her?” I was curious if she knew why he defected. “What can a Lazarus do?”
Playing dumb wasn’t that hard when I had bare-bones information on that designation.
“What she can or can’t do is immaterial,” she demurred. “Your father has made it known he wants her.”
That sounded a whole lot like she didn’t see the big picture. Or maybe she was okay with having blind spots as long as she got what she wanted.
Leverage was leverage.
“I’ll give your father twenty-four hours to contact me. He knows how.” She lifted her wand and drilled it into Tibby’s neck, and the faint light caught on her distinctive bracelet. “After that, I’ll kill her, and neither of us will get what we want.”
“I’ll pass along the information, but I have no part in your bargain, and I have no stake in the outcome.”
Dad made his choice the day he spoke the words that ensured he would die to avenge Mom.
And it wasn’t me.
“Twenty-four hours,” she repeated, backing away. “Not one second longer.”
Asa made as if to follow her, but I held out my hand to give her a head start.
“She came primed for a confrontation.” I set a five-minute timer. “We need to be smart about this.”
Anything she set up in advance could be activated with a word as she ran past, and I didn’t want to find out she rigged the tunnel to collapse by it falling on our heads.
Lowering my arm, I thought back on what I had seen. “Did you notice her bracelet?”
“No.”
“The charm was a pottery shard. I recognized the design. It was the same as the smashed vase from the mausoleum. The one the summoning circle kept in their homes and on their persons to hide the smell of their magic.”
No wonder we hadn’t scented anything peculiar about her when she dropped off the RV. And why Nan had kept her distance. Only the card Luca gave Clay with transference tipped us off to their true natures.
“Do you think Luca is the one who supplied the Boo Brothers?”
“That would make her a major player in a seriously long game, and complicit in the desecration of Mom’s remains.” I wish I had gotten a better look at the shard. “We have no way of knowing how long ago the vase was broken, or if all the pieces were accounted for prior to the case. She could have come by her charm another way.”
Like through Jai Parish, who set the summoning circle in motion.
Or through the Bureau, after the shards were collected and logged into evidence.
For all we knew, she could have been the one who smashed it in the first place.
Goddess, could this get any more complicated?
“Perhaps.” Asa crouched where the Lazarus had stood. “Luca has excellent timing.”
“I’m willing to bet she was the heartbeat on the other side of Townhouse B’s wall. Since we didn’t invite ourselves in, she probably hit the tunnels after we left, then waited for us to find her.”
“Sea monster?” She choked and coughed to clear her throat. “Are you for real?”
“Did I forget to mention that part?”
“Derry will crap his pants over this.” Her laughter ran wild down the line. “First Old Man Fang. Now a sea monster. Keep it up, and you’ll never get rid of us.” A door opened and shut. “Text us where you’re staying. We can sleep on the floor. In fur, if necessary. See you soon.”
The call ended before I got a handle on what had happened, and I stared at my phone like it was the one to blame before sending over the marina’s address. “We’re having company.”
“I heard.” Asa studied me from the corner of his eye. “That was unexpected.”
“Aww.” Clay formed a heart with his hands. “Rue made a friend.”
“I should call her back.” I swallowed. “Tell her we don’t have anywhere for them to stay.”
“We’ll make it work.” Asa rested a hand on my thigh. “We could use the extra noses.”
“Tracking will be a nightmare,” Clay agreed. “Too many people, too many competing scents.”
“What about Colby?” I shouldn’t have made the call. “She can’t hide out for a whole weekend.”
Expecting her to hole up for three days was too big of an ask. I couldn’t do that to her. It wasn’t fair.
“What if I claim a bunk?” Clay grew thoughtful. “I don’t need the bed, but it would give Colby her own space when the wargs are in-house. I can stay up all night on the bench, and she can hang out in there.”
“They’ll smell her.” I worried my bottom lip. “Or hear her.”
“Did you know witches exist?” He tugged the ends of my hair. “I hear they can even cast spells.”
“I don’t know.” I picked at my nails. “I don’t want Colby to feel excluded.”
“Colby doesn’t know you, me, Asa, or Blay exist right now,” Clay pointed out. “She’s hot on the trail of—wait for it—The Ferret.”
The hacker was asking for a cheesy nickname with that smoke trick, so I didn’t roll my eyes.
Out loud anyway.
“You can seal her in.” Asa talked over Clay. “Ward it for protection, spell it for sound, scent, and sight.”
“There is a TV…” I let them warm me to the idea. “And she has her new laptop…”
“Good.” Clay rebounded. “Then it’s settled.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Asa stared out the windshield. “How fast can a warg run?”
“Any particular reason why?” I narrowed my eyes on him. “For that matter—who’s asking?”
“Blay might be interested in a rematch.”
The last time Derry and Blay got together, they broke into a mausoleum, stole an ulna, and played fetch with it. There might have been a race prior, but the graverobbing was what I remembered the most.
“Goddess bless,” I muttered, shaking my head. “This is going to be a mess.”
We hit congestion earlier than we had yesterday and abandoned the SUV to a public parking lot to walk the rest of the way on foot. The crowds were thick, the music loud, and the rumble of distant thunder promised the humidity would be thick enough to choke on soon.
“Cut through there.” Asa gestured toward an alley that required us to walk in single file. “Turn left.”
At the end of his directions, I stepped out onto the street facing Townhouse A.
That meant the building beside us was the one The Ferret (good grief) had wanted us to rent.
Hand on the bend of my elbow, Asa drew me back into the shadows before I gave us away.
“How do we get in?” Searching for clues, I checked with Clay. “Where’s the nearest entrance?”
“That part wasn’t spelled out.”
“Spelled out?” I pinned him in my sights. “Are you joking with me right now?”
Wargs couldn’t perform magic, aside from their single gift of trading forms with their wolf half. There was no point in calling Marita again. Even if her cousin could give us a history lesson, the properties had changed hands, which meant the tunnels had been sealed after the wargs’ occupation of the buildings.
An educated guess based on the records the Kellies sent over listing only human buyers and renters over the last ten years. Hmm. Framed that way, I wondered if it had been an intentional effort to avoid paras rediscovering the tunnels and putting them back into use. If so, it was a pity it hadn’t gone to plan.
“You are a witch.” Clay leaned against the opposite building. “I thought it was funny.”
“Of course you did.”
“If there’s an exterior entrance, it could have sunk lower than street level.” Asa ran a palm down the wall. “Do you have the map of the tunnels?”
“Yeah.” I handed him my phone. “First pic is the original network. Second shows the collapsed sections.”
“The whole point of spelling a basement was to keep the death toll a secret,” Clay argued. “I don’t see it having street access. Too many people would have noticed bodies going in but not coming out.”
Closing my eyes, I placed my hand on the weatherworn brick, listening.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
On the other side of this wall, in a house that should have been empty, someone lingered in the dark.
“We should go.” I withdrew slowly. “Let’s work on identifying the exit rather than the entrances.”
The guys didn’t question me, and we retraced our route into the chaos of the party spilling out from Bourbon Street.
“What was that?” Clay carved us a path. “What happened back there?”
“Someone was in the house.”
“It’s for rent.” Asa moved to flank me. “It could be the new tenant.”
“The lights were out,” Clay reminded him, “but it could have been a bedroom for all we know.”
“Either way,” I settled the debate, “I didn’t want them to notice us poking around their place.”
The smells of sweat, Old Bay, and sunscreen climbed in my nose and infected my brain with the throbbing cadence of the myriad heartbeats thundering around me in joyful abandon.
“Rue.” Asa pulled me to a stop and cradled my face in his hands. “Breathe.”
“I’m trying.” Clutching his wrists, I did as I was told. “There are just so many…”
Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum.
Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum.
Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum.
The beats filled my soul, music to my ears.
Water pooled in my mouth, and I swallowed convulsively to keep from drooling.
“She’s picking up on something powerful.” Clay scanned the crowd. “She wouldn’t break down like this for a nonmagical source.”
New Orleans brimmed with power, and magical practitioners. There was no shortage of temptation.
“I’ve got it under control.” I withdrew from Asa, reclaimed my phone, and began tracing the paths Colby had marked for us, determined to beat this. “Let’s try Washington Artillery Park. It’s on Decatur Street.”
The farther from the closely packed bodies and their salty-sweet vitality, the better.
“This looks promising.” Asa kept his eyes on me. “There’s direct access to the Mississippi River.”
Sure enough, the park sat across from Jackson Square, right along the riverfront.
“Lots of places for a secret entrance.” Clay turned a slow circle. “Any ideas where to start?”
“A big red X would make it too easy.” I, however, liked easy. “Let’s begin with the cannon.”
A Civil War era replica cannon sat on a raised platform, pointing toward the river, its base shrouded in marble plaques. As far as secret entrances go, it would be a painfully obvious one. But the tunnels predated the park, so the wargs might have had to make do to keep their existing structures in place.
“This one.” Asa had barely gotten within six feet of the cannon before he zeroed in on a plaque detailing the purpose of the monument. “There must be a way to open it.” He leaned in, filling his lungs. “It smells of death and mold.”
From where I stood at the front, where the park’s name had been inscribed, three plaques spanned the left and right sides. He was adamant about the right center being our way in, and I trusted his instincts.
“Let me see what I can do to conceal us.” I rested a hand on his arm, and the familiar spell sprang to my fingertips. I pushed it out until it enveloped a portion of the monument as well. People would see it, but not us, and not any changes we made. “Can you scent any concentrated magic? Or is there a mechanism?”
“I can’t tell.” He shook his head. “It’s too faint.”
Crouching beside him, I traced the thick edges of the plaque with my wand, dowsing for a lock or hinge. I made three passes, whispering an unlocking spell as I went, and a subtle click was my reward. The plaque slid out an inch, enough for me to dig in my fingertips, and I pulled it toward me on a metal track.
“Must be original,” I murmured, noticing a latch so well hidden in the design, we missed it entirely. “Mechanical so the wargs could operate it.”
The entire section holding the plaque, marble and all, folded flat, creating a thick step. The first of many. A metal staircase disappeared below us into the dark. The hole was big enough for me to climb in with ease. Asa could make it if he wedged his shoulders just right. Clay? Not so much.
“Clay, you’re the lookout.” I willed the tip of my wand to brightness. “Asa, care for a moonlit stroll?”
Minus the moon, which would disappear within a few feet of the dank opening.
“I would be delighted.” His lips hitched to one side. “Shall I lead?”
Fingers closing over one of his braids, I gave it a hard tug. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I’m a better tracker than you.” He tapped the side of his nose then went ahead. “That’s all.”
Had I not enjoyed the view so much, I might have argued more, but I did, so I didn’t.
“I don’t like this.” Clay leaned against the monument. “Cramped quarters make using magic dangerous.”
Ricochet wasn’t just for bullets, but I had plenty of combat experience. Not as a gray witch, but still.
“I have Asa and Blay.” I patted his hand. “I’ll be okay.”
“You better be,” he grumbled. “I would have to strip and lube myself to squeeze in that tiny hole.”
“I don’t need those kinds of details about your sex life.”
“You wish I shared details.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” I plugged my ears with my fingers. “Just don’t keep telling me.”
Eager to make my escape before he scarred me for life, I began the descent. Twenty-five steps later, I stood in a tunnel the height and width of a generous door. Already, I regretted brushing off Clay’s warning about close quarters. Close was one thing. This was downright claustrophobic.
Asa stood a few feet ahead, scenting the air. He gave me a nod and set out, leaving me to follow him. By unspoken mutual agreement, we kept quiet as we padded around and around the mildew-rich labyrinth.
“Beeswax,” he said softly. “Someone was burning candles.”
“Do you hear that?” I cocked my head, and what I heard urged me forward. “Over there.”
Instinct guided me deeper into the maze until a glimmer of light pulled me up short.
“Rue Hollis,” said the woman who delivered our RV. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you.”
“How did you know where to find us?”
“Nan has done everything short of knock on your door, take you by the hand, and lead you here.” Her laugh was as cold and flat as her eyes. “I didn’t find you. You finally found me.”
“Nan is The Ferret.”
“The Ferret?” Amusement curved her red lips. “Oh, she won’t like that. Her signature is a mink.”
Minks were vicious, aggressive, and ruthless. Not a bad choice of emblem for a black witch.
“The Kellies didn’t find my backdoor, did they?” I studied her, curious if she would react to the name of the Black Hat hacker duo. “Nan did.”
As usual, she gave nothing away, but I didn’t see the harm in naming the Kellies when she had to be a rogue agent herself. Even if by some miracle she wasn’t Bureau, Nan would have told her who they were up against.
“You don’t have a backdoor. You have a door, one down a long and winding hallway.”
That sounded…bad. Very, very bad. Even for a computer illiterate like me.
Nan must have infected Colby via the Kellies rather than through the security system on Townhouse A.
All she had to do was wait for us to arrive, activate her protocol, and alert her coconspirator.
“The RV delivery was, what, for funsies? Do you know how embarrassing it is to stay in that eyesore?”
“Had you rented the townhouse, you wouldn’t have that problem. Nan even created a custom listing for you on your rental site of choice.”
That explained why VacayNStay got hit, but it was a clumsy effort. The lack of subtlety screamed trap.
“When that didn’t work, your second choice was the Strippermobile?”
“The Toussaints have a fleet of them, so they were eager to lend Nan one for her personal use while she was in town.” Her smile grew sharper. “The hotel situation is rather dismal this time of year.”
“The Toussaints had no idea you were charging us exorbitant rent for that crime against RVs.”
“The party bus was a stopgap measure to earn me an introduction to you and your team. You recognize me now. You all do. The bus gave me a plausible excuse for visiting the marina. That recognition, that plausibility, would have made you hesitate before you killed me. Those extra seconds were all I needed if I had to bring this conversation to your doorstep.”
“Any particular reason why you were in a rush for an introduction?”
A rustling noise confirmed the second heartbeat that led me to them, and a thin girl with dark skin and a vibrant scarf wrapped around her head stepped forward. Heavy cuffs made from vines bound her wrists, the thorns digging into her skin. She swayed on her bare dirty feet, and her soft brown eyes were blurry.
“This is Tibby Garnier.” The woman gripped her shoulder to steady her. “She’s the last living Lazarus.”
There was only one reason I could fathom for this unexpected meeting, and I was bitter to find myself as much a pawn as Mom had ever been.
Thanks, Gramps.
Airing our family’s dirty laundry had kicked up a stink that clung to me like black magic. “And you are?”
“Call me Luca.” At long last, her cold expression matched her empty eyes. “I’m here to broker a trade.”
Luca.
The woman who saved Dad.
The woman who foolishly believed she owned him now.
The woman who was about to get a brutal wake-up call if she cost Dad that witch.
“Of course you are.” Dread curdled my stomach. “What did you have in mind?”
“Your father wants Tibby. He can have her, after he’s fulfilled his promise.”
There was no after in that scenario for Dad. Once he killed the director, the animus vow would take his life. He wouldn’t have a use for Tibby then. Just as he had no use for Luca now.
“Why does he want her?” I was curious if she knew why he defected. “What can a Lazarus do?”
Playing dumb wasn’t that hard when I had bare-bones information on that designation.
“What she can or can’t do is immaterial,” she demurred. “Your father has made it known he wants her.”
That sounded a whole lot like she didn’t see the big picture. Or maybe she was okay with having blind spots as long as she got what she wanted.
Leverage was leverage.
“I’ll give your father twenty-four hours to contact me. He knows how.” She lifted her wand and drilled it into Tibby’s neck, and the faint light caught on her distinctive bracelet. “After that, I’ll kill her, and neither of us will get what we want.”
“I’ll pass along the information, but I have no part in your bargain, and I have no stake in the outcome.”
Dad made his choice the day he spoke the words that ensured he would die to avenge Mom.
And it wasn’t me.
“Twenty-four hours,” she repeated, backing away. “Not one second longer.”
Asa made as if to follow her, but I held out my hand to give her a head start.
“She came primed for a confrontation.” I set a five-minute timer. “We need to be smart about this.”
Anything she set up in advance could be activated with a word as she ran past, and I didn’t want to find out she rigged the tunnel to collapse by it falling on our heads.
Lowering my arm, I thought back on what I had seen. “Did you notice her bracelet?”
“No.”
“The charm was a pottery shard. I recognized the design. It was the same as the smashed vase from the mausoleum. The one the summoning circle kept in their homes and on their persons to hide the smell of their magic.”
No wonder we hadn’t scented anything peculiar about her when she dropped off the RV. And why Nan had kept her distance. Only the card Luca gave Clay with transference tipped us off to their true natures.
“Do you think Luca is the one who supplied the Boo Brothers?”
“That would make her a major player in a seriously long game, and complicit in the desecration of Mom’s remains.” I wish I had gotten a better look at the shard. “We have no way of knowing how long ago the vase was broken, or if all the pieces were accounted for prior to the case. She could have come by her charm another way.”
Like through Jai Parish, who set the summoning circle in motion.
Or through the Bureau, after the shards were collected and logged into evidence.
For all we knew, she could have been the one who smashed it in the first place.
Goddess, could this get any more complicated?
“Perhaps.” Asa crouched where the Lazarus had stood. “Luca has excellent timing.”
“I’m willing to bet she was the heartbeat on the other side of Townhouse B’s wall. Since we didn’t invite ourselves in, she probably hit the tunnels after we left, then waited for us to find her.”
