“Yeah. That’s the one. He’s not government, but with the power he has, he might as well be.”
“And the kebab place got his permission to put magic in the food? Like some special ingredient?”
“Yeah. The Council of Guilds—that’s our actual government, by the way—restricts most magic use. But the Devil can get around their rules by convincing the right people of the right things. Or threatening them. And if you want to get around their rules, too, you pay him, and he makes it happen.”
“So he’s like some kind of criminal kingpin.”
She shrugged again. “Basically. And maybe a murderer. Hopefully, Eve will finish that truth potion soon.”
I leaned back in the chair, my stomach full. It should have made me content, but stress over the murder kept me on edge. “I need to sneak into the morgue. It’s my only clue.”
Mac nodded. “I’m wary of your source, but he’s got a point. It’s worth checking out.”
I chewed on my lip. “Yeah, but how? I’m a wanted woman. My face will be all over the place.”
“We need to make you unrecognizable.”
“A makeover?”
“More like a disguise. Or invisibility, though that’s harder.”
“Does Eve have that stuff?” I was going to owe her a lot of favors.
“No. I mean, maybe she has some of it. But the people you really want to see are the witches.”
“The ones I’m not supposed to get on the bad side of?”
“Same ones. But sometimes, we need their help.”
“Can I trade them more favors?” I was throwing them around willy-nilly, but I needed to save my cash for living expenses, and somehow, it was easier to promise favors to be paid in the future. Maybe it was a bad idea, but it sure was easier. And why solve a problem today if I could solve it tomorrow?
“That’s what they’ll want, probably, yeah.” Mac looked out the window, and I followed her gaze. The sun had set, and it was darker outside. “It’s nearly the full moon. The witches will be having one of their masquerades tonight. We can sneak in, then try to sweet-talk them into helping us.”
Helping us. Gratitude welled inside of me. “Thanks, Mac. Seriously, from the bottom of my heart.”
“This is cool. And you’re cool. I don’t mind.” With that, she surged to her feet and clapped her hands. “All right. We need to get dressed up!”
I stood, grinning at her. Damned if this wasn’t cooler than my normal life.
8
The Devil
One by one, my muscles unfroze. The room was silent—the woman had been gone an hour, maybe more. Already, it felt like she had never been there. Her scent had left the air, along with the slight warmth she brought. The strangest sense of loss echoed through me, and I frowned.
Loss? Why the hell should I feel loss?
Why the hell should I feel anything at all?
But I did, and it was the oddest damn thing.
Irritation prickled over my skin. No one got the drop on me—not normally.
But she wasn’t just anyone.
I’d been distracted. Nearly overwhelmed by the animal instincts that I had worked so hard to repress.
She’d overwhelmed me.
I dragged a hand over my face. That hadn’t happened in years. Centuries. Ever?
Disgust bubbled up within me. What was it about her? She was quick and clever. I couldn’t control her. And it made me feel…things.
It was the most uncomfortable feeling.
I wanted to make it stop. To understand it, at least.
The woman—I needed to find her name. Find her.
I wanted to know more about her.
The potion bomb she’d thrown at me was familiar. I tasted the air, getting a hint of Eve’s magic. She paid for protection from the witches, who would otherwise try to crush her small business.
I turned and strode toward the door, the thrill of the hunt already seething in my veins. This, I was familiar with. This, I liked.
The mirror near the door caught my reflection. Humans believed we couldn’t be seen in mirrors, but my reflection proved otherwise.
For the briefest moment, I caught a glimpse of what the woman had seen. Cold eyes, pale skin, sharp fangs. I touched one briefly. For the shortest moment, I wondered what she’d thought of me. I lived a half life—one full of muted colors, tastes, and smells. Did she see the same monster that I did?
Or worse?
I shook the thought away and forced my fangs to retract, then turned toward the door. Finding her would be easy. I’d use all the contacts at my disposal, and they were vast. She was likely going to head to the human morgue to follow the clue I’d given her. But she might not have left Guild City yet.
As I marched down the hallway, I passed several of the cocktail waitresses. They skirted to the side to give me a wide berth, their movements twitchy and nervous. They were afraid of me. Almost everyone was afraid of me.
Once, I might have cared.
Now?
No.
It was unusual that I even noticed them unless I perceived a threat.
The club itself was quiet as I strode through. Midafternoon was one of the less busy times, which was fine. It was primarily a front for my main business, anyway.
I reached the hostess stand, and Miranda leaned toward me to tell me about the woman’s escape. She’d frozen some of my guards, apparently.
Well done.
Fresh guards nodded as I emerged from the club and out into the watery sun. The light prickled against my skin but didn’t burn like human movies suggested it would. Despite that, I stuck to the shadows as I made my way through Guild City. I was more comfortable there, even if the sun wouldn’t incinerate me.
I passed a few citizens as I cut down the narrow alleys, and each one crossed the street to give me passage. They were even more afraid of me than my staff, though I didn’t understand it. I didn’t make a habit of killing people, after all.
I did kill people, of course. But not often. And not publicly.
Reputation could work wonders, though. And even I knew that I seemed icy. My past had followed me here, and people didn’t forget easily.
Eve’s shop was open when I arrived, and I entered silently. The tiny space smelled of a hundred different magics, all colliding with each other. I liked it in there because the sheer number of smells seemed to compensate for the fact that scent was always so muted for me.
Her wares cluttered the shelves, tiny bottles of potions gleaming in the dimness. Fairy lights sparkled near the ceiling of the shop. The raven sat on the shelf behind Eve, silent as always.
Eve glanced up, her expression bored. She froze when her gaze met mine, but she didn’t so much as twitch—that is, except her arching right eyebrow, a clear question. She waited silently. I wondered how sure she was of my past. People whispered of it, but no one knew for sure.
Even I was uncertain after so many years. Visions all clashed in my mind.
I shook away the thoughts. “I’m looking for a woman. You sold her a freezing potion.”
“Confidentiality.”
“I’m sure there’s a way around that.”
She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “There really isn’t. Why are you interested in her?”
I didn’t like the question. Partially because I didn’t want to share, but also because I didn’t want to examine it myself.
Why was I interested? Because something in me recognized her?
I shoved away the thought and sighed, more out of exhaustion than anything else.
She shifted nervously.
“Don’t make me,” I said.
She scowled. “I’m not making you do anything.”
No, she wasn’t. I chose to use my magic against her. Part of me didn’t like it, but a bigger part wanted to find the woman.
I called on the power that had been given to me when I’d been made into a vampire so many hundreds of years ago. Most vampires were born. Turned vampires rarely survived the transition, and when they did, they woke up with insane bloodlust and muted senses, a mimicry of their previous lives. The combination led to them going on killing rampages that were so dangerous they often ended up dead themselves.
But somehow, I’d survived.
Magic swelled within me, dark and fierce, a vortex of power that reached out of me and into Eve. It was easier than it had been with the woman who’d just visited me. She had been impossible to influence.
Eve, however, was not.
She grimaced, her eyes shooting daggers at me.
My magical signatures flared on the air. It was something I normally kept a tight rein on, but I needed it now. I knew my signatures were horrifying. They’d served me well when I’d first been made. Screams of the dying, the icy grip of the reaper. The smell of brimstone and the taste of dirt.
She paled and shrank back, her bravado gone.
The worst I would do to her was force her to tell me what I wanted to know. Perhaps I could refuse to sell her my protection, but she didn’t need to know that. I wouldn't waste time on killing her, not when the witches would jump to take out her shop. She was competition, and that Guild was fierce. I helped Eve stay open to irritate them.
“Tell me what I want to know. Who was the woman to whom you sold the potion?”
“Fine.” Her words were tight, her eyes flashing with anger as my magic forced the truth from lips. “Her name was Carrow. She’s some friend of Mac’s, and she can read objects and people with a touch. That’s all I know.” She gave me a crafty smile. “And I just had my runner deliver a truth serum to her. So, be ready for that. She might even use it on you.”
Interesting. “Thank you. If they visit you again, be sure to let me know.”
She hissed at me, and I just smiled. “Good day.”
If she responded, I didn’t notice. My mind was already on the woman. Carrow. Her name was Carrow.
I strode out of the shop and turned toward Mac’s door. She lived so close that it was worth checking.
What I would do when I found the woman…I wasn’t quite sure. But I was curious, and I hadn’t been curious in years. Finally, something interesting was happening.