Chapter 8 #4
I opened Sophie’s first. She’d sent the address and the codes of our new apartment, then stated that Lowell and his people had been informed it was a precautionary measure after the break-in and that our location would remain unlisted and untraceable for the immediate future.
She’d also told them that, due to developments preventing our specialist being able to arrive up here in time, she’d given me the name of a local witch with extensive dark mage experience, and that they were not to expect the shard’s return into inventory as it would likely be destroyed during investigations.
Lowell would not be happy, but it wasn’t like he could gainsay her orders.
I passed the information on to Ginny, then opened René’s message. If I’d been expecting something more than businesslike, I would have been sorely disappointed. There was an address, a reminder not to forget the shard, and the time we were to meet.
You like this man came Atticus’s somewhat accusatory comment. He was sitting on the sofa cleaning his murderously sharp claws. I rather suspected René would be the recipient of said claws if Atticus didn’t approve.
I don’t even know him, Atticus.
My toast popped. I transferred it over to my plate and smothered it with butter and almond butter, because why not?
That doesn’t invalidate my statement. I look forward to investigating him.
Please don’t.
He glanced at me. As you are fond of saying, you are not my witch; therefore, you have no control over what I do and don’t do.
Ginny was right. You’re an ass.
I have been called far worse than that.
I can imagine. To Ginny, I said, “I got the address for the new apartment and the entry code. We can move location once we both get back tonight.”
“What if they’re watching this apartment? I haven’t seen anyone, but if they’re using magic to cover their positions, I likely wouldn’t.”
No magic, Atticus commented. I would sense if it was out there.
“Imagine that,” Ginny said. “He’s actually being helpful.”
I will eat you at some point came his reply.
She snorted. “I’m too scrawny and all bones—your words, not mine.”
I will make an exception.
I rolled my eyes. “Please, you two, enough. We have work to do.”
“Speaking of which,” Ginny said, after a quick glance at her watch, “I’d better get going, otherwise I’ll be late.”
She drained her coffee and bounced up, sweeping her keys and phone from the counter before heading out to the balcony.
After a quick look around to ensure no one was watching, she shifted shape and flew off.
I finished my toast, locked the sliding patio door, then headed into the bathroom to do my teeth and grab the shard.
On the way out, my phone rang, the tone telling me it was Joseph.
“Hey, Joe, aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?”
“Nah, it got cancelled. The professor came down with a bug, so we’ve a free period.”
“Which you are, of course, using wisely.”
He laughed. “Sitting here drinking coffee and studying the demonology book Professor Hankin recommended.”
“Find anything?”
“He gave me the heads-up on two demon possibilities, but the one that seems the best fit is a éan olc, which translates to evil bird. Apparently they’re often used as comp—or companion—demons.”
“Does it say anything else useful?”
“Well, it has black feathers, scaly legs, and long claws that gleam like black diamonds. It performs the bidding of the witch or mage who called it into being in return for the heart and soul of those it is sent to hunt. If these are not provided, it will turn on its master, consuming him or her before returning to the underworld lair.”
Is that what had happened to both Francesca and Marnie? Had they been sacrificed to the éan olc rather than whoever had called it into being? The manner of their deaths certainly seemed to fit the creature’s MO. “Does it say what kills it?”
“Hang on.” After a few seconds, he added, “It says it’s easier to remove them from the earthly plane rather than killing them, but the usual stuff—holy water and relics, blessed silver, banishment spells—all work, while salt and ash can confine it.”
All of which I didn’t have with me or couldn’t do. Great.
“They sound pretty nasty, Mom,” he added. “You sure you should be hunting them?”
“I’m not. I just wanted to know what they were.”
“Well, it might be wise to keep some holy water in your handbag, just in case. Hate to lose you and all.”
“Said with such depth of emotion,” I replied dryly.
He laughed. “You know I love you. I just don’t get all mushy about it.”
“I will expect an extra hug in compensation when I get home.”
“I’ll give you two.”
“Be still my heart.”
He laughed again and we chatted for a few more minutes until I reached the car. After warning Betty I was going offline for an hour or so, I tucked everything into the signal blocking container, placed it and the shard into my handbag, then climbed into the car and headed across town to meet René.
The dark mage’s shop was located in a semi-industrial estate where all manner of vehicles and people could move about without attracting undue attention.
The mage’s place was an old redbrick storefront with a slightly larger warehouse attached to one side, and sat next door to a liquor warehouse.
I parked down the street and climbed out, my gaze sweeping the area, looking for René.
I didn’t spot him immediately, but a few seconds later, a ghost-gray Mercedes AMG turned into the street and pulled up just behind me.
I do approve of the car choice came Atticus’s comment from behind me. Classy rather than flashy—unlike the lime thing you drive.
I glanced at him. He was sitting on the Toyota’s trunk, scruffy black tail swishing from side to side. I own a BMW; by nearly every definition, they are considered classy.
Not when they’re such an atrocious color.
I rolled my eyes. You are not coming into the mage store with us.
No need. I can follow events through your thoughts.
Then please refrain from saying anything. I need to concentrate.
You and I know where your thoughts will mostly be.
Atticus, shut up.
No.
I swore at him, and his laughter drifted through my mind.
I did my best to ignore it and turned to watch René unfold from his vehicle.
He wore a white short-sleeved shirt that emphasized his tan and his broad shoulders, and dark blue jeans that hugged not only his hips and the long powerful length of his legs, but almost lovingly emphasized the size of his cock.
It was damnably impressive, even when not aroused.
I cleared my throat and dragged my gaze upward again.
His smile suggested he was well aware where my gaze had temporarily lingered, but all he said was, “Did you wear that green for me? Because I do find it rather fetching.”
“Sadly for you, I did not.”
Liar, the internal me and Atticus commented in unison. The latter no longer sat on the trunk, but was instead skulking about in the nearby dumpster. I wasn’t sure why and was afraid to ask, in case he was mousing and decided to drop the carcass either in the car or my damn bed.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and pushed away from the car. “Am I allowed to know the mage’s name, or is it all hush-hush?”
René fell into step beside me, a big presence whose magical silence made me want to sigh in pleasure. “She will not reveal herself to you, and this is not her premises. It belongs to a friend of a friend who has been paid for the closure of his shop and his absence for the period of one hour.”
I glanced at him, my eyebrows raised. “A little overcautious, don’t you think?”
His gaze slanted toward mine, silver stars gleaming brightly. “You’re Society, and she’s a dark witch. You’re lucky she agreed to even meet us.”
“Then why did she?”
“As a favor to me.”
“Why?”
A smile tugged his lips. “We are too early in our relationship to start giving out secrets like that.”
“We are not in a relationship.”
“Not yet, I agree, but you did toast to my declaration of pursuit last night and the possibility of an ongoing relationship once this case is over.”
“I’ve since discovered you’ve never been seen with the same woman twice, so I’m thinking the whole relationship thing is a nonstarter.”
“While neither statement is true, wouldn’t one night of amazing sex be better than none?”
One hour of amazing sex would be better than the none I was getting right now, but I wasn’t about to admit to the lack of satisfaction in my life, because that would just make me seem sad. “As I said, I don’t do one-night stands.”
“Well, good, because as I have said, I will not be satiated by one mere night.”
That makes two of us.... A shiver that was half wanting, half fear rolled through me. I might be a thirty-eight-year-old whose marriage had been sexually satisfying, but that was years ago. Right now, I fucking felt like a teenager giddy over her first date.
I really needed to get a grip.
On him, I suspect came Atticus’s dry comment.
It was all I could do to hold my reaction in check. Atticus!
Snapped you out of your sexual fixation, did it not?
Yes, but—
Concentrate on your job, wench. Dark mages are dangerous.
René chose that moment to touch my back and guide me up the stairs, his fingers sliding past the top’s hem onto my skin. It felt like I was being branded. Felt like heaven.
I drew in a deeper breath and forced myself to concentrate. Atticus might be annoying, but in this case, he was also right. I could not let attraction foil my focus in any sort of situation, let alone one as dangerous as this might end up being.