Chapter Eleven
There was nothing Rowan loved more about her job than the ability to absolutely lay waste to the lives of the fucking dicks she had to deal with.
They didn’t make any advance contact at the Procella mansion, not even with the guards watching the place. No, they just rolled straight up to the front steps, and when the soles of Rowan’s boots hit the pavement, utter certainty seemed echoed out from her middle as the connection she shared with Brigid flared to life so much faster and easier than it ever had. It took Rowan’s breath away at the sheer power of it, at the quickness of the transition.
If the sun had been down, Clive would have felt that sonic boom of her energy. As it was, Darius looked over at her and then dropped his gaze. Rowan knew Brigid shone from her eyes at that moment and he gave that respect.
Genevieve stopped just next to the vehicle and spat on the pavement three times and then sang something that sounded like stones grinding and then clicking into place. Rowan wasn’t sure how she’d even made that sound, much less sang it.
But even Rowan could tell a spell had dropped over the entire area.
“All magic but ours has been disabled,” Genevieve said.
“Cool.”
Marco appeared, walking from a shadow Rowan hadn’t noticed moments before. He and David exchanged a look that had Rowan raising her internal eyebrows.
They were on the third step to the massive front porch when the doors swung open, Lotte stood there, outrage all over her body, hands fisted at her sides. “What are you doing here? What have you done?”
Genevieve took a slow look at Lotte from the tips of her shined work shoes to her perfect, pale-blond chignon. Rowan secretly admired the suit and wondered if Elisabeth would be interested in something that smart and classy or if it would just get in the way of her work.
“The Conclave and Hunter Corp. had further queries as well as an updated physical inventory to take. We’ll need to ask you some questions as part of that.” Genevieve turned her attention to Rowan. “I’ll let you take the lead on this.”
“Delighted.” Rowan stepped closer. Lotte was confident in her physical ability, and she thought Rowan was human, so she’d be lazy. Her gaze flicked down to the cane and Rowan snorted. Of course she’d underestimate Rowan.
“You can step aside, or I can move you,” Rowan said. “Either works for me.” Frankly, she was hoping Lotte gave her a reason. “But if you choose the latter, it won’t be gentle.”
Rowan caught the shift in Lotte’s stance and the way she dropped her right shoulder. She stepped back and to the side quickly as Lotte moved forward. Rowan choked her grasp up higher on her cane, lifted it before Lotte even knew what was happening, and brought it down brutally hard against the back of the witch’s leg.
Lotte cried out, stumbling back. She tried to use magic but that fizzled because Genevieve had pulled the plug. Rowan used her free hand to punch Lotte’s face in two short jabs as she stepped into the front foyer fully.
The others followed as one of the beefy guards from the day Rowan and Genevieve had come for the first meeting with the Procella family stormed into the room. He raised a weapon, but Rowan spun on her good leg and brought the cane down full force on the arm lifting to aim. The crack of bone made her wince and filled her with victory at the same time.
He screamed, high and shrill, full of pain and the energy of a person about to pass out, which he then did in a heap at Rowan’s feet.
“That was very impressive,” Genevieve said.
“It’s all in the nerves. Know where to strike and boom. Beefy there should up his calcium intake though. Shouldn’t have been so easy to break that bone. Ah well.” Rowan shrugged. “He’ll heal. Eventually. Plus, I practiced that spin while using the cane to hit the target a few times since yesterday.” She smiled, showing her teeth at Lotte, who limped over, smeared blood on her lip from where Rowan’s punch had landed.
David took all the weapons and then unloaded them all, pocketing the magazines.
“You broke his arm,” Lotte said, falling into a heap in a nearby chair. Her outrage had begun to drain away, replaced with a growing realization she was in over her head. Good. The sooner Perfect Suit accepted reality, the easier things would go for everyone.
“Probably in two places given the angle I used. Like I said, he’ll heal. At least I didn’t shoot him fourteen times.” Because it was rude, Rowan snapped her fingers at Lotte. “Stand up. I didn’t break your leg. I can hit you in exactly the right place to shatter a bone. You understand I’ll do it if you push me again. You know I will. Understanding is a beautiful thing. Isn’t it? So, since we understand one another, we can skip any further attempts to attack me. They’ll fail and I will hurt you to gain your compliance. You’ll comply in the end, they all do.”
Lotte was in good shape. She’d been quick and had moved with strength. She was likely quite formidable with humans and other witches when it came to hand-to-hand. But she was a kitten compared with what Rowan was. She couldn’t even dream up the types of things Rowan had done and was willing to do. Even if Lotte didn’t realize it, Rowan did. And being the more powerful being came with a bunch of rules about not abusing it. Annoying, but whatever. They’d get Lotte subdued enough to handle the rest of the search and that was what counted.
Rowan looked around. “You can take a seat over there and one of us will speak to you shortly. You’re not to move unless there’s a fire or whatever, as we conduct the search.”
Genevieve said three words and made a hand movement.
“She’s secured,” Genevieve told Rowan.
“Okay, let’s get that one handled.” She pointed at the guard, still on the ground but coming to consciousness. “Then we begin. I’ll start in the kitchen. I’ve been dying to see it after Lotte attempted to corral me in there when I was here last on official business.” Rowan sent a sunny smile Lotte’s way at the reference to the way she’d been expected to wait in the kitchen while real witch business was conducted elsewhere.
Genevieve came through with them. “Though I’m certain my working would have deactivated all spell traps when I took down everything else, I’ll accompany you just in case I’m needed to handle something.”
As it was clearly the domain of servants, Rowan wanted to perform the second search of the kitchen herself. There were no new revelations. However, when Rowan opened the fridge, she noted similarities to what was stocked at Sergio’s hidey-hole she thought of as his Gloat Palace. They’d searched the upscale ranch house in Spring Valley first thing and had gathered a stunning amount of evidence, including indications that Hugo had most likely been hiding out there before they’d arrested him.
“That’s not a label found on shelves of most liquor stores,” Genevieve said of the champagne and wine. “Same with the liquor in the butler’s pantry. I’m sure there’s a bar cart in the main sitting room of each of the bedrooms as well. I imagine we’ll find more of the same, connecting to what was stocked at the other house.”
“I had a very strong feeling the sidepiece wasn’t the one doing all the grocery stocking. Probably Lotte. Bet she knew Hugo was there, too.” Rowan curled her lip.
David remained at her side as they moved, quadrant by quadrant, through the first floor. Filming when necessary. Taking notes. Handing her things she didn’t even know she needed until they appeared and solved the problem.
Rowan spoke quietly as they ascended to the second floor where all the living quarters were clustered like little apartments. “I guess living with your family would be okay if you had thirteen thousand square feet and they had their own full apartment to be in rather than the living room at all hours, hogging the TV when all your shows are on.”
“Do you have shows?” David asked, teasing.
“I totally do! That tattoo competition show, for one. Then I can root for the contestant who is just badass and talented and sneer at the one guy who refers to himself in the third person while telling everyone how great he is. It’s always the best when whatever bullshit that guy has been doing to others turns around on him so he can act hurt and surprised people would do the same shady shit he has. Honestly, it’s a show with plenty of drama, but has great art. If my father-in-law came in every time I was about to watch the elimination tattoo results to talk to me about laxatives or wanted to change the channel to golf, I’d probably not tell the cops where he was if he ran off either, so long as he didn’t come back.”
“You are as ever, a very complex person,” David told her. “I will endeavor to never interrupt while you’re watching television.”
“You’re welcome to watch with me. Bring snacks. Star will share the couch with you if you give her a scratch behind her ears.”
“I find it’s best to lead with snacks in most every situation.”
“Right? Why hasn’t everyone figured that out yet? Clive now just hands me food every time he sees me. As a preventative measure.”
David’s snort of laughter brought a smile to her face.
Rowan pointed to the left. “We need to cross over to that wing of this floor. That’s where all the household staff live.” They walked over an open, bright landing that then took a slight turn that led to a series of suite-styled bedrooms. Not as opulent and spacious as the family apartments, but quite lovely, nonetheless.
Rowan looked at her notes. “Let’s start with Lotte’s room. I bet that galls the hell out of her to be here with the staff instead of with her employer. I also bet the rest of the staff hate her guts. You know she’s a cop. Telling on everyone.”
“I really do wish they understood how much worse it goes for them when they give you reasons to dislike them. Though it’s obviously far more entertaining when they bumble along, and you savage them at every turn.”
“I know, David. But villains never learn. I guess that’s good for the rest of us always having to deal with them and stop them from villainy and shit. Keeps the lights on and Star in that swanky homemade dog food they spoil her with.”
Genevieve came in moments after they had. “I’ve gone through the rooms in this wing. All clear of spell traps. But that doesn’t mean other sorts of traps won’t be set. Do be cautious.”
“I’m glad you said it,” David teased Genevieve.
“I need you to wait in the hall,” Rowan told them both.
“I will go speak with Lotte, if you are amenable,” Genevieve said.
“Excellent idea. I’ll join you in a bit.”
Once they’d gone, leaving her alone in Lotte’s space, Rowan let herself breathe slowly as she got her head right.
Rowan wasn’t a witch. She wasn’t a Vampire. Her senses were highly developed just the same. Honed over the years as her connection to Brigid strengthened and she trained as a Hunter.
Intuition was a melding of the physical parts of being an investigator and the metaphysical parts of being...well, Rowan. It had taken a long time for her to accept the magical aspects of herself, as if they could disappear and leave her lacking so she never wanted to be weak. Or that they somehow made her weak.
But it was the opposite, she’d realized. Accepting her gifts as that particular combination of all her various strengths made her better at her job in every way. Her connection to Brigid was a positive. It was supposed to be. She was supposed to lean into it and let it make her stronger.
Learning that—accepting that—had been revolutionary. And a process she was still working through.
Moving to the center of the sitting room, Rowan let her eyes close and reached out for her other senses. Opened herself up to the Goddess inside her.
Pleasure surged through her veins as Brigid rose and settled herself within Rowan. Sharing a consciousness in a way that had begun to feel very natural.
She needed to trust herself more.
That was a Brigid thought.
“Okay, okay,” she muttered. Perfect Suit lived in this space. Her energy and magical signature were everywhere.
Interesting. Rowan opened her eyes and then relaxed her focus, like she was staring at one of those optical illusion posters they sold at the mall. As of just a few days before that, Rowan couldn’t really detect a magical signature more than in a cursory way. She’d been able to notice if magic had been used. Could tell when someone was a witch. But what she was looking at just then were little gossamer threads. So similar to the way she perceived a scent trail.
Lotte spent time at the little couch and table near the windows. There was one of those individual-cup coffee maker things and all the pods that went inside were neatly lined up in a little tray holding two mugs and various coffee and tea accessories. A mini fridge sat beneath the table and held food and drinks. Nothing incriminating.
There were bookshelves on one wall but not a lot of Lotte’s energy was there. Rowan followed those little threads into the bedroom and knew immediately that this was where Lotte spent most of her time when she wasn’t working.
She might be a stuck-up bitch, but Lotte had good taste. The furnishings were elegant and clearly well-made with luxury materials and finishes. There was a vanity nearest French doors leading to a small balcony, and on the other side of the room, set in an alcove, was a beautiful desk. The gleaming cherrywood was smudged at the drawer pulls with those threads.
“This is a very cool new gift,” she murmured to the Goddess.
Somewhere in her head, Rowan heard a laugh as warmth flowed through her.
She knelt and looked under the bed, noting the room had hardwoods but the bed sat on an area rug.
“David!” she called, straightening.
He came in quickly. “What do you need?”
“I want to move the bed and the rug it’s on. There’s something under it.”
“Let me call Marco. He’s just at the end of the hall. You might reinjure yourself.”
She considered arguing but Marco appeared in the doorway. “Did you need my assistance?” he asked... David.
Oh for fuck’s sake.
Fine. It’d give them a little flirting time and Clive wouldn’t hear she was moving furniture.
“There’s something under the bed. I need it and the rug moved,” she said.
Genevieve seated herself across from Lotte, taking her time settling, letting the other woman get more and more nervous and uncertain.
Darius had retreated a few feet away, near the doorway to the grand foyer. Close enough to intervene should she need it. Or should he want to. He did pretty much whatever he wanted anyway. Who or what could stop him?
“Who is Sergio’s paramour? The one who lives out at the Lakes?” she asked at last.
Surprise registered on Lotte’s features briefly before she schooled herself. “If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Okay. You’ll be held in Conclave custody until a tribunal decides your fate.”
“My fate? For what? I have broken no laws! I have rights.” She tried to shoot to her feet, but Genevieve had secured her in place.
“Lower your voice or I’ll do it for you.” Genevieve raised a lazy hand, the bracelets clacking and jingling with the motion. “You are withholding information regarding a current investigation. You’ve been given multiple opportunities to cooperate and have chosen otherwise. I have no idea why you all act like humans are beneath notice but you try to cling to their laws when you’re in trouble. Human law isn’t applicable here. It never has been. Mainly that’s been about our protection from them. But sometimes, we end up in situations where we’re the threats. And then the Conclave has to step in and handle it before your hubris gets the rest of us unwanted attention. Like contracting wolf shifters to murder a Hunter in the middle of the day. On camera in one of the busiest intersections in the world.”
Lotte sneered. “And look at her now. A pathetic human upstairs right now pawing through the belongings of her betters. She’s nothing to the Procella organization.”
Rowan seemed fine with people underestimating her, but Genevieve was not. “She’s free to do her very important and powerful job while you’re held to a chair being interrogated, and your employers are all under arrest. I’m entirely clear about who is who’s better. As will you be when she finds whatever it is you’re hiding.” Genevieve gave Lotte a once-over full of disdain.
If there was something to find, Rowan would find it. She had a way. And now she had some built-up spite to apply to the problem, which fueled Rowan like nothing else.
“None of this has anything to do with Mr. Procella’s private life.” Lotte nervously twisted her fingers.
“Tell me or I’ll make a call and have a transport sent over to take you to be held until trial.”
Lotte’s spine curved slightly as she finally understood her fate.
“Mr. Procella was married for nearly a century. He was devastated when his beloved wife died. In the thirty years since she passed, he has had a long-term relationship with two women. He kept them away from this home, which he built for his wife and their children.”
Genevieve figured that might explain the fact that in all the photographs and video they’d located featuring the Procellas out and about at various society and work-related events there wasn’t a single instance of another woman. She wondered just what the current girlfriend had to say about that.
“What happened to the first one?”
“They grew apart.” Lotte’s brief answer was loaded with judgment.
“Name.” Genevieve looked Lotte over again. “I can use magical means to get the answer. This isn’t even a particularly deep secret, so it’ll be easy enough to take. But it won’t be pleasant.”
A deep secret was more difficult to uproot. A working to reveal it was most effectively performed with precision of intent. Genevieve didn’t know enough about Hugo and Sergio and whatever they were up to, so it was difficult to even know the questions to ask. But with Lotte and what she needed? Easy. And she wouldn’t even be sad if it hurt given all the pain the Procellas had brought. The sooner they had more information from those around Sergio and Hugo, the sooner Genevieve could uncover answers.
“Why do you need to know?” Lotte asked.
“You know why we’re here. You know why Hugo ran off and that he was hiding out at the house in Spring Valley. You know why Sergio and Antonia are in custody and you know why Bess Procella is being detained. You don’t need to know the exact reasons I’m asking. That’s, how do you say? Oh, above your pay level.
“If they haven’t done anything wrong, I’ll find that. Speaking to people will give me answers. If they have? I’ll find out anyway. It’ll be messier and more painful, and it’ll take a little longer maybe. But make no mistake, I will get answers. You can tell me, or I can make you tell me. This is where we are. Your option is to answer the questions I ask or be arrested.”
Marco came in holding a tea tray he laid out next to Genevieve’s seat. He poured her a cup of perfectly doctored milky black tea. The way she preferred it. Very sweet.
She nodded her appreciation, and he retreated after an inclination of his chin, showing her respect.
“That tea set is priceless,” Lotte said, her tone going up in pitch as Genevieve sipped. “Once owned by a tsar. A gift to Mr. Procella Senior from a business associate. It was in a locked cabinet. That’s not a set we use daily. It’s for kings and notables.”
“Ms. Aubert is as close as you will ever get to royalty,” Darius said, filling Genevieve’s belly with butterflies.
“Back to Sergio’s first mistress and her name.” Genevieve turned the delicate cup in the saucer slightly and then set them down. It was a beautiful set and while she had no concerns for what Lotte felt, she wasn’t going to destroy something that couldn’t be replaced.
Pausing, she bent to pull a pipe from her handbag. The bowl was loaded, and the sticky, sweet scent of marijuana filled the space as she took a hit—bigger than was actually necessary—and blew it out, delighting in the horrified look on Lotte’s face.
There were times when all the various disciplines and teachers in Genevieve’s life and magical study were voices in her head. All telling her what would be best. What was a problem. They weren’t negative voices. They never said cruel things to or about her. But they could be overwhelming to the point of being debilitating. She’d discovered several centuries before that marijuana seemed to help and left her clearer than alcohol and other types of things she’d used before and after.
Her connection to the Dust Devils and their Trick had helped immensely with her facets, as Darius called them. They still clamored for attention, but it wasn’t overwhelming as often.
They really didn’t like Lotte, that much was clear to Genevieve. Which was understandable because she didn’t like Lotte either.
“Hugo and Sergio will most likely be sentenced at a tribunal. You won’t see them in your lifetime. Antonia? That remains to be seen. Alfonso is running from our inquiries. We’ll find him eventually. And when we do, we’ll also find who’s been giving him inside information to help him. The way Hugo was also fed information.” Genevieve paused to look over at Lotte, delighted as the truth hit her and she realized they knew she’d been helping Procella father and son. Then she decided to toss out, “Oh, I suppose you might be wondering why Hugo hasn’t gotten in contact with you over the last day and a half or so. Well, as it happens, he was captured after he attacked me and the Hunter with negative magic. Again. ” She sent a faux smile laced with sympathy. “I see from your expression that you didn’t. Ah. Well, you do now in any case.”
“You people have done enough and found nothing. This is persecution, plain and simple,” Lotte said, her cheeks going pink. Her panic and fear stunk up the air. Genevieve felt that if one were to involve themselves in conspiracies of the type Lotte had, one might have a stronger disposition.