Black hat 8 gray seas, p.5
Black Hat 8 - Gray Seas, page 5
Laumė were woodland spirits who tickled men to death and then ate them.
That her former love muffin chose that fate over being with the black witch said a lot about her.
“Do you think it could be the same witch? Or the same spell?”
“Spells are often recorded and passed down through a bloodline or coven.” I touched the pendant where it nestled between my breasts then jerked my hand down to my side before I drew its interest. “But she died pretty horribly, as best I recall. Not sure she had time to pen her wildfire-in-a-bottle spell before then.”
“Wildfire in a bottle,” he mused. “Remind me to never date a black witch.”
“Dating one isn’t the problem. As long as you don’t cheat, don’t lie, and don’t expect them to change.”
“From all accounts, you changed,” he ventured with honest curiosity. “How did that happen?”
“I found someone I loved more than myself and accepted I had to change if I wanted to protect them.”
“Asa.”
There was no harm in letting him think that, so I didn’t correct him. “Anything else to report?”
“Not yet.” He hesitated. “How is Asa? And Clay?”
“They’re both sleeping off their extra spicy lunch.”
“Glad to hear it.” His attention drifted, and he clipped out, “Hold on, Rue.”
The clock on the nightstand helped me count down the five minutes I waited for him.
“Sorry about that.” His breath hissed between his teeth. “Are you coming back?”
Until my new clothes arrived, I wasn’t going anywhere. “Any reason why I should?”
“We found another body.” He hesitated a beat. “The victim? He’s got your named carved into his forehead.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Ever received a mutilated corpse as a gift?”
From my crouch over the body, I peered up at Isiforos. “Yeah, actually, I have.”
To his credit, the daemon blinked once then shook off the confession. “Does he look familiar?”
“No.” I snapped photos of the victim on my phone. “If I’ve ever seen him, I don’t remember.”
That wasn’t saying much, considering I could have met him early in my career. I could have had tea with the Queen of England then and not recalled it. Though, I felt certain if I had, I would have at least taken a corgi selfie.
“We took his prints. The Kellies are running them now.”
Arthur Kelley and Kelly Angelo—aka the Kellies—were the brains of the Black Hat operation.
But I wasn’t a big fan of theirs after they sold out my location to the director. They were the reason he knew Samford, Alabama, existed. Hurt feelings aside, I didn’t need the Kellies, thanks to Colby. She was able to sneak in a back door she built into the Black Hat database and retrieve any information we required for our cases.
Those fingerprints?
A copy for my records, poached from theirs, would be waiting for me in my email, I was certain.
“Does he have any other injuries?” I pointed to his chest. “There’s blood but no entry or exit wound.”
Preliminary cause of death was a dagger to the base of the skull. The message was written post-mortem. He hadn’t been in the building when it went boom, his clothes were too clean for that, but he was found behind a dumpster belonging to the Italian bakery next door.
“The cleaners added him to their to-do list, but he’s dead. He can’t get any deader. They’re processing bodies in order of discovery, so he’ll have to wait his turn.”
“Gloves.” I waited for him to slap a latex pair on my palm. “I’m going to lift his shirt.”
We had documentation showing the position the body had been found in, so I should be fine to move it.
“Do you think he was hiding to protect himself from blowback while he cast the spell?”
“It would make sense, but anyone that powerful could have set a ward to keep themselves safe.”
“The assailant came up behind this guy.” Isiforos indicated the point of contact. “Got the drop on him.”
“Everyone has an off day,” I cautioned, aware no matter how big and bad you might be, there was always someone bigger and badder waiting to wipe you off the board. “We don’t know species yet.”
There was no stink to him like a practicing black witch, but we were also downwind from a dumpster. I couldn’t have picked his dark magic from decomposing food waste without witnessing the guy cast first.
Most troubling was the lack of evidence that daemons were involved or that a daemon was the target.
Obviously, I didn’t want Asa wearing a bull’s-eye on his back until Calixta got her butt in gear and dethroned Stavros, but an attack on Asa made sense. An attack on me, however, made…
“Well shit.” Isiforos leaned over me for a better look. “That’s not good.”
The had been carved into the corpse’s chest, and Day was cut into his stomach.
“Rue the day.” I put it together. “Just what I need.” I snapped more photos. “A funny guy.”
“Or an admirer.” Isiforos shot off a text, likely to the Kellies. “This proves you were the target.”
“No.” I rose and yanked off the gloves. “It proves someone wants us to think I’m the target.”
Until we knew more, we had no way to be certain, and I couldn’t shake the fear I was missing the key to unlocking the entire crime. Then again, I had ruined Stavros’s coup and killed one of his favorite generals to save Blay. He had as much reason to come after me as he did Asa. Maybe Isiforos was right, and I was so afraid of losing Asa, I couldn’t see the forest for the trees.
“Okay, I need to get back to my team.” I turned the gloves inside out, shoved them in my pocket for later disposal, and aimed for the SUV before someone else cornered me. “Keep me updated.”
“Will do.” He snapped his fingers. “Almost forgot.” He caught up to me. “I put one of my guys on Marty.”
“Oh?” I shortened my stride. “Do tell.”
“I would rather not.” He flashed a grin. “Let’s just say he’s not going to bug you anytime soon.”
“That is a load off my mind.” I smiled right back. “Remind me to buy you an ice cream cone sometime.”
Once he peeled off, chuckling at my offer, I made the rest of the walk to the SUV without interruption.
Until I got in and cranked the engine, anyway.
“Well?” Clay leaned forward between the seats. “How did it go?”
A scream welled in my throat, and it burned all the way down after I swallowed it to prevent the agents from swarming me in a panic that I had been attacked.
Again.
“I forgot you were there.”
With Clay too weak to exit the vehicle, I brought him along for the ride. But, to conceal him, I dragged a comforter out of the hotel room and tossed it over him. That way no one got any ideas about moving on him while he was vulnerable.
The fact I even had to worry about his safety among fellow agents reenforced Dad’s belief Black Hat wasn’t salvageable. But it wasn’t like the director was working to change the system. He invented it. He enjoyed the petty squabbles and infighting. How they got anything done remained a mystery to me.
One I would have to solve if I wanted to keep the Bureau standing after we brought down the director.
“Your concern warms my heart.” He thumped my ear. “What did Isiforos have to show you?”
“A paranormal, species unknown, was discovered hunkered down behind a dumpster at a neighboring restaurant. There’s a chance he’s the bomber—spell slinger—whatever.” Bomber. Definitely bomber. No one who tried to blow up my friends deserved a cool title like spell slinger. “But that’s not why Isiforos wanted me to come down.” I started the SUV and pulled away from the chaos. “The guy was killed by a knife to the base of the skull, and his killer carved my name on his forehead.”
“Brutal.” He reached forward and angled the rearview mirror to look himself over. “Reminds me of the time that vampire—Gyasi?—developed a crush on you and started leaving you dead bodies as tokens of his undying love.”
“Yeah.” I found it hilarious at the time. “I had the same thought.”
Gyasi was around seventy-eight, but he resembled an eighteen-year-old. He picked up my scent when I was around fourteen. He was courting me the only way he knew how. The gifts weren’t the bodies, but what was in them. Hearts. Powerful ones. But I preferred to hunt for myself.
And the sixty-four-year age difference creeped me out enough to permeate even my black magic high.
“But I haven’t told you the best part.” I mashed my lips together. “The entire message, carved on his throat and chest, read Rue the day.”
“That is a terrible pun.” He smiled anyway. “So how did you get to be so special?”
“No idea.” I gripped the wheel harder. “This complicates things.”
“Nah.” Clay blew off my worries. “Asa has a bounty on his head. That means any number of people could be after him. You’ve only got a stalker. Sorry, Dollface, but Asa is still more popular than you.”
“Thanks?”
“I missed lunch, if you recall.” He fixed the mirror for me. “Mind if we hit a drive-through on the way?”
“There’s a food truck one block up from the hotel. I saw it on the way out. Looks like seafood.”
“As long as it also tastes like seafood, I’m sold.”
A snort blasted out of my nose, and it occurred to me that both my best friends wielded humor as a weapon.
We hit the food truck and bought it out on the company dime.
Fried shrimp, catfish, and calamari. Salmon-, crab-, and lobster-covered French fries. Hush puppies. Funnel cake fries with chocolate and caramel drizzle. And enough sweet tea to fill a bathtub and soak in it.
“I’m going to start on my lobster mac and cheese grilled cheese sandwiches.” Clay snatched a bag off my lap. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s fuel to give me the strength to climb the stairs when we get to the hotel.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I replayed what he stole. “Lobster mac and cheese grilled cheese? Those weren’t on the menu.”
“I placed a custom order online under your name.”
That explained how the food found its way into my bags, and why I wasn’t charged for them. No wonder the woman at the counter looked at me like I was crazy when I added to the already massive order.
The heavenly smell made my stomach rumble, and he took pity on me and shared his bounty. By share, I mean he broke a sandwich in half and gave me the side missing two bites. That left me about one bite, but it was enough to tide me over.
Six sandwiches later, Clay was healed enough to climb the stairs. But not well enough to carry the five gallons of sweet tea that were cutting off the circulation in my fingertips as I hauled it up behind him. The only reason he agreed to carry the food was so he could graze. Twice I caught him with a fistful of funnel cake fries sticking out of his mouth, and powdered sugar coated his ruined shirt.
About the time I decided to set down half the load and come back for it later, or never, a welcome sight greeted me with a warm smile and a fresh outfit of dark wash jeans and a black button-down shirt.
Asa looked good. Always. In anything. But the clothes and a shower worked magic on his earlier pallor.
“Let me help.” Asa reached for the jugs. “You’re going to dislocate a shoulder carrying these.”
“Hahaha.” I leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re cute, but no.”
Bad enough he had chosen to meet me on the stairs instead of taking the elevator, which was what we should have done.
“Hate to say I told you so,” Marita sing-songed behind Asa. “Actually, no. I don’t.” She snagged four jugs. “Told you so. Told you so. Told you so.”
A loud beep sounded from under us as a vehicle locked its doors.
“We need to move.” I took a step, nudging Marita. “We’re blocking the stairs.”
Footsteps pounded behind us, moving fast, and I nudged her again.
“Do mine ears deceive me, or didst I heareth the dulcet tones of mine lovely wife?”
Swinging around, I spotted Derry, whose eyes flashed golden as he caught a tea jug aimed at his head.
“As you can see,” Marita grunted out, hurling another, “I’m fine.” She slung a third. “You may go now.”
“I took the week off.” He juggled the projectiles with ease. “You’re stuck with me.”
“Oh joy.” Marita rolled her eyes. “Don’t just stand there.” She tossed a fourth jug. “Help out or get out.”
Arms bowed with his burden, Derry swept past us, pausing when Marita angled up her jaw.
Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her throat. “I missed you, woman.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She shoved him away. “I missed you too.” He walked past, and she turned to watch him go. “Mostly your ass in those jeans.”
On the top step, he paused and shook his butt at her. She, meanwhile, filmed his little dance.
“I’m sending this to your mom,” she warned him. “I just have to add the stripper music first.”
A jug hit the concrete and exploded, soaking Derry from the knee to his thigh and flecking higher.
“Don’t you dare,” he growled. “Mom has barely recovered from the sea monster photos.”
“Not your smartest move, rubbing that in my face while I’m holding a loaded weapon.”
The phone in her hands, paired with basic video editing skills, made the fear real on her mate’s face.
“I’ll give you anything you want to erase it.”
“Write me a blank check.” She flashed too many teeth. “One I can cash in anytime, anywhere for anything.”
“Even I’m not that stupid.” He barked out a laugh. “No deal.”
“Oh well. I tried to reason with you.” She made a production of mashing the button. “And…sent.”
Clay, who had leaned against the railing to watch the show, polished off another funnel cake fry.
“If you two are done,” I butted in, “we need to get inside before Clay eats our lunches.”
Wargs, by my estimation, were at least three-quarters stomach. They took food very seriously.
“Come on, Asa.” Marita looped her arm through his and took the last jug from me. “Let’s get you back in bed.”
“What about me?” Clay faked a limp up two more stairs. “Don’t I get a hand?”
“I’ll help you.” I snatched the bags of food and raced past him. “Hurry up before Colby zips out here.”
The threat of exposing her was enough to mobilize him. That, or he was following the food.
Probably a little of both.
CHAPTER FIVE
While the others settled in, I divided the goods, grateful Clay had gotten himself extras so I could split his share between him and Derry. I found exactly one hotel-issued plastic-wrapped cup, which wasn’t going to cut it with this group, so we decided to pair off and drink straight from the jugs.
Once everyone was situated with food and drink, I joined Asa on the bed and updated them between bites.
“I told you that you were the target.” Marita popped a hush puppy in her mouth. “I’m not happy about it, mind you, but I enjoy being right.”
“I’m shocked she’s not singing the I told you so song.” Derry bit into a crab leg. “It’s her favorite.”
“She sang it earlier,” I told him. “Maybe she hit her quota for the day?”
“Quota?” He choked on his food and coughed, splatting onto the carpet. “No such thing.”
“I can be mature about always being right all the time.” She chugged her tea with a hand on either side of the jug, like a lady. “I am willing to gift you with an encore performance if you share your funnel cake fries.” She lifted her bag. “Mine was mostly chocolate smudges and crumbs.”
“Food trucks,” Clay said innocently. “You can’t trust them.”
“You can’t trust the golem holding the dessert bag,” I corrected after noticing my portion was light too.
“Oh.”
We all pivoted toward Colby, curious what put that note of excitement in her voice.
“The fingerprints matched a record in the database.” Colby glanced up from her phone. “Dirk Pendas.”
“Doesn’t ring any bells,” I confessed. “Species?”
“Undefined fae.”
Wadding her trash, Marita shot each ball into the tiny can. “How often do fae defy categorization?”
“Rarely.” Asa, our resident fae expert, filled us in. “There are extensive records except for creatures who live in deepest Faerie, and few of those are humanoid.”
“Do you think this Pendas guy could be mixed species?” I twirled my fork between my fingers. “Unusual magics can muddle classifications.”
“Where will they take the body?” Derry wiped his earlier amusement off his face. “And can we get in?”
“The body falls under the cleaners’ purview. It will skip the local morgue and be transported to their HQ for a more thorough examination. The autopsy results ought to be available online tomorrow.”
“That’s fast.” Marita whistled. “They’ll put a rush on it for you?”
“Perks of being the deputy director.” I twisted my lips. “The director doesn’t care that I might have been killed, mind you.” Aside from my value to Dad, the director couldn’t care less about me. “But it does look bad for the Bureau if we don’t smite our enemies with extreme prejudice in record time. Especially ones willing to target higher up the food chain. The director will throw his weight behind this investigation for the sole purpose of protecting his image.”
“I’m sorry he’s such a bag of dicks,” Marita said, “but the preferential treatment will come in handy.”
Her language caused Clay to mash his lips flat, which was comical given his pre-Colby vocabulary.
“Agree.” I stabbed a shrimp but didn’t bring it to my mouth. “On both counts.”
“I’ve got her.” Colby flitted so hard she lifted off the table. “I’ve got her.”
