22. CHAPTER #3
“I have a vested interest in powerful witches.” Mr. Heiss set the paperwork back down.
“Allow me to make a suggestion. Wait until I have properly taken control of this dump and let us see what other evidence we can find, hmm? You will be able to give your friend actual information instead of shocking him with an upsetting revelation with no recourse.”
Indy frowned and narrowed his eyes.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“That’s actually a really nice thing to say. Hence the suspicion.”
“Let’s go.” Mr. Heiss offered his arm.
“Wait? We’re not going to look around anymore?” Indy gestured at the multiple filing cabinets. “What about those?”
“Time to leave.”
“There could be a body.”
“In the filing cabinet?” Mr. Heiss actually laughed as he led Indy out.
“Hey, anything is possible if you cut it in enough pieces.”
Mr. Heiss brought Indy back downstairs, cutting through the crowd to head back toward the bar where they’d last seen Gammy.
The bouncer was gone and now the door there was open.
Mr. Heiss kept walking like he owned the place—which, technically, he did—and didn’t stop until they were through the door and he could close it behind them.
It was a hallway with three doors, two on the right and one at the very end. Tanze and Underwood were just emerging from the door on the right, both of them covered in blood. Tanze licked some from Underwood’s cheek while Underwood had a handkerchief to dab at Tanze.
Adorable serial killers.
So cute.
Azazel stood at the end of the hallway by the last door. His suit was a bit rumpled, but otherwise he seemed fine. He grinned a bit, saying, “That old lady is a fucking beast at wards.”
“And where is the old lady now?” Mr. Heiss asked.
“Downstairs. There’s some sort of basement situation, maybe where the old fuel tanks and shit were.”
“What do we have up here?” Mr. Heiss asked briskly.
“The drugs,” Underwood replied. “They’re storing them here, but never fear. Security has been taken care of already. Through that door is the facility proper where they are packaging the pills.”
“Nyp? Mr. Mitternacht?”
“No sign of them. No sign of anybody to be—”
“Fuck.” Mr. Heiss growled in frustration, stalking toward the door to the facility.
It was once a kitchen, judging by the large sinks, prep table, and stoves.
There were still utensils and pots hanging on the walls, but everything else had been cleared away for boxes, plastic baggies, and digital scales.
There was also a different type of scale, as in what Indy could only assume to be the dragon kind because of its enormous size, and three of them were stacked in a neat pile inside a wooden crate near the door.
Large trays of pills were laid out at one end of the prep table, some were still on the scale waiting to be weighed, and it looked as if whoever had been working here left in a hurry.
Mr. Heiss circled around the table with a furious scowl. He grabbed the scale and hurled it against the wall, shattering it into bits. “Motherfucker!”
Indy hovered at the doorway, but he stepped forward to let Azazel and the others file in. “Hey, this is a good thing though, right?”
“Pardon?” Mr. Heiss stared, his chest heaving as he fought to control his rage.
Tanze picked up the crate of scales to take over to the prep table, Underwood right behind him still dutifully fussing over all the blood.
“Yes, it sucks the assholes aren’t here,” Indy went on, trying to ignore the serial killers being cute, “but this is more bad drugs that aren’t going to get out into the city.”
“Yeah!” Azazel said cheerfully. “There’s probably hundreds here. More in storage too! This is a really big win!”
Mr. Heiss snarled at Azazel.
“It’s shit. Yup. Totally shit.” Azazel cowered. “And we are going to keep looking for Nyp and—”
“We have a problem,” Underwood said coolly.
“What now?” Mr. Heiss snapped.
Tanze held up one of the scales. “This.”
The scale was the size of a dinner plate, shimmering and glowing, and it was a distinct shade of cerulean blue.
Everyone was shocked into silence, but the reason was not clear to Indy.
“What’s the problem?” he dared to ask. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Somerstown only has one dragon.” Mr. Heiss scowled. “Just one.”
“Oh! Minnie something. I’ve heard of her—”
“Those are not hers.” Mr. Heiss shook his head slowly. “She is a green dragon, not blue. And these scales? They are very, very fresh. They were plucked recently. If someone had been running around snatching Minnie’s scales, trust that we would know about it.”
“So, what fucking dragon are they from then? Is there another—”
A wild roar erupted, the very tiles shaking beneath their feet and rattling everything on the counter.
The trays fell, pills scattering across the floor, and all the old pots on the wall clanged around as the sound continued to shake the very room.
The force was great enough to chatter Indy’s teeth together, and he clung to the prep table to steady himself.
Mr. Heiss was right there to hold him tight.
“Yes.” Indy gulped. “Gonna go ahead and say yes, there is another one, and it sounds really, really fucking pissed off.”
“Indy!” a far-off voice shouted.
The sound was echoey and strange, and Indy couldn’t tell which direction it was coming from. “What the…?”
“Indy! Where are you?”
“Here!” he called back. “I’m right here!” He scrunched up his nose, straining to make out whose voice it was. “Wait… Gammy?” He looked all around. “Gammy? Gammy! Hey! Where the hell are you?”
“Indy!” Gammy hollered as she came up through the floor right next to him. “We have to get out of here! Right now!”
“Yes, I know. Dragon!” Indy hissed. “There’s a fucking dragon!”
“Yes, but—”
The floor in the hallway collapsed inward as something struck it from below, and the entire building trembled. The lights flickered, utensils flew off the wall, and there were distant screams of panic.
“What the fuck?”
“It’s loose!”