The murder itself was only slightly noteworthy. True, I wanted to know who was behind it and what they were planning. Why they’d stolen the dagger from me. But it was Carrow herself who really piqued my interest.
At the green door that led to Mac’s stairs, I used my city key. It opened almost any door in town and was a perk of having as much power as I did. Taking the stairs two at a time, I ascended silently. When I reached Mac’s door on the second level, I knocked. I could have used the key like I had the bottom or even broken the lock, but a streak of conscience tugged at me. It was a rare and awkward feeling, quite frankly, but I heeded it. I definitely had a conscience; it was just well buried.
No one answered the door, and the space within was silent. My hearing was unnaturally good. No one was home. I turned and left, heading back toward my club. The bouncers waited at the front, still and silent. Both shifters had been in my employ for over a decade. Powerful and loyal, the best security was hired from the Shifters’ Guild. Their eyes were cold and dead, but they weren’t monsters.
Not like I was.
I passed them and stopped at Miranda’s desk. My second in command leaned forward expectantly, a half smile on her face. She looked unassuming in her heels and simple black dress, but she could kill someone with a scream. One of the advantages of having a banshee on staff.
“Tell the city spies to let me know when they spot Mac and her friend,” I said. “Immediately.”
Miranda nodded. “Yes, sir.”
I grinned, walking into the club.
If Carrow was in Guild City, she was mine.
Carrow
A couple hours later, after a catnap and a party makeover, Mac and I were dressed as fabulous postapocalyptic junkyard slum queens—colorful sequins and leather and platform boots. Eve’s employee had delivered the truth serum, and I wore the tiny vial on a chain around my neck.
“This isn’t my usual,” I said as we strode down the streets of Guild City, magic sparking all around us. “But I like it.”
“You look like a badass in your jeans and leather jacket,” Mac said. “But this is a fun change.”
“This whole thing is a fun change.” The night was alive around us, the old buildings gleaming with light and magic. The interiors of the shop windows seemed to come alive.
All of this was so much better than my lonely flat and the constant doubt of the only people I knew. I missed Cordelia a bit, but she’d never paid me any attention, anyway, so she certainly wasn’t missing me.
I turned my attention to the shops around me. This was what I was most interested in right now. My primary goal was to solve the murder, but I was going to have a small bit of fun while doing it. It was impossible not to stare at magic.
As we strode past a clothes shop, the outfits inside danced as if they were at a party we just had to join. Effective advertising, because it totally made me want a pair of really ugly jeans. They just looked like they were having such a good time.
The tea shop was giving the clothes shop a run for its money, though. The kettles in the window were shooting colorful steam into the air, and the teabags were leaping like trained mice. Next door, swords clanged in a mock battle, and daggers shot around the empty store.
“This is so much cooler than my regular life.” I could hear the wistfulness in my own voice.
“That bad, huh?”
I shrugged, dragging my eyes from a fishmonger’s shop that seemed to be filled entirely with water. An octopus swam in fancy patterns, drawing hearts with ink that it shot from its back end. “It’s fine. Just… normal.”
“And you’re not normal.”
“I guess not.”
Mac turned onto another street. Like all the rest, it was narrow and winding, with old buildings crowded together on either side. Most were in the Tudor style, made of white plaster and dark wood, with sharply slanted roofs and glittering mullioned windows. The shops here were quieter, but the stillness made it easier to hear the party in the distance.
“That’s the witches,” Mac said. “Their full moon masquerades are legendary.”
“It’s not the full moon, though.” I looked up at the huge, glowing orb. We were probably a couple days away from full.
“They get excited and host it early.” Mac shrugged. “Only about once a year do they manage the restraint to wait until the moon is full.”
I grinned, liking the witches already.
We turned at a bend in the street, and I could finally see all the way to the end. Colored lights exploded in the sky—like fireworks, just way too low to be safe. When we reached the end of the lane and I could get a better view across the square, I spotted a fantastic old tower that leaned slightly to the left.
Mac gestured to it. “Voila! The Witches’ Guild.”
“You’re telling me.” It was perfect.
I’d had no opinion about witches and their guilds before, but now that I saw this place…it looked just like it should. The tower itself was pale brown on a square base and teetered to the left like a drunk. Wooden staircases wrapped around the sides, leading up to a door. The windows were dark and empty, occasionally flashing with light.
And the roof…that was the best bit. Dark and pointed, like a witch’s hat. Pale blue smoke wafted from a chimney, replaced occasionally with sparks of light. Music blared from the place, and I could feel the energy of the party inside. Every now and again, lights exploded right above the lawn—the fireworks that I’d thought I’d seen.
“Each guild tower is built right into the city wall,” Mac said. “And each has a square in front of it.”
I eyed the open space, which was covered in patchy grass. The shops there were mostly derelict, run-down or closed.
“This part of town is shadier,” Mac said. “You can blame the witches. They’re so loud and destructive that shops don’t want to risk it. This lawn catches fire at least twice a year, and spells shoot out the chimney all the time. Frankly, it’s a hazard to be located close to them.”
“The Council of Guilds doesn’t control them?”
“They try. But it’s hard. The witches are part of the council, so they’ve got some say.”
“Sounds like they have a lot of clout.”
“Yeah, that’s what comes with powerful magic in Guild City, and the witches have some seriously powerful magic.”
The moon peeked out from behind a cloud, bright and white. A wolf howled in the distance, and another one streaked across the lawn.
I stepped closer to Mac. “Was that a real werewolf?”
“Yeah. Some of them go nuts near the full moon.”
“Will they…bite?”
“Nah. Not unless you want them to.” She winked at me.
“No, thanks.”
“Good choice.” She laughed. “Let’s go.”
She strode across the lawn, and I followed. The music grew louder as we neared, and the lights flashing in the windows occasionally revealed people dancing.
“Is everyone in town invited?” I asked.
“No. And technically, we’re not, either.” She pulled her sequin mask down over her face. “But that’s part of the fun.”
We were going to gate-crash a masquerade held by witches.
Hell, yeah, that sounded fun.
Way more fun than my normal life.
Who’d have thought that getting accused of murder would be one of the best things to ever happen to me? Assuming I could clear my name and not get tossed in prison.
Mac took the creaky wooden stairs two at a time, and I followed her, pulling my mask down. It concealed the top half of my face, a glittery thing covered with sparkles that was more fabulous than anything I owned back in the real world. I hurried up the stairs in my platform boots. The heels were heavy, and I liked them. They would make a good weapon if I had to kick someone.
When we reached the front door, it swung open without us having to knock. A dour butler stood in the entry, his dark suit immaculately pressed and his white hair perfectly combed. He couldn’t have looked less impressed if he tried, and I found myself loving him.
“Jeeves!” Mac grinned widely. “Long time no see, buddy.”
“You are not invited, Macbeth O’Connell.”
“Pshaw,” Mac scoffed. “Check your list. You’ll find my name.”
Jeeves’s white brows lowered. “I am certain I won’t.”
She touched his arm in a friendly gesture, her smile stretching wider. “I'm sure you wouldn’t want Dorothea knowing about your little…hobby?”
Jeeves flushed scarlet, and I wondered who Dorothea was. My gaze moved to Mac’s hand, where she still clutched at Jeeves. She was using her seer’s gift on him and getting blackmail material, I realized.
Holy crap, that was dark.
And clever.
Jeeves sighed and stepped back. “You may enter. But no tricks.”
“Tricks?” She pointed to herself. “Me? Never!”
He glared at her, and I followed her in, giving him an awkward little wave.
As soon as we entered, a crush of people surrounded us. Everyone was dressed to the nines, all in fabulous crazy outfits. There was a giant chicken who shot sparks out of its tail feathers, a monkey with golden fur, and an eight-legged dog who might have been an actual dog and not a costume.
“This place is wild,” I murmured to Mac.
“No kidding.” She grinned widely. “The witches know how to party.”
“Do you gate-crash often?”
“Every time. It’s part of the fun.” She tugged on my arm. “Now come on, I’ve got something I need to do before we meet the witches. It’ll only take half a second, but it’s important. Then we’re on to your stuff.”
I followed her through the various rooms. Each was decorated differently, with fabulous furniture and wild art on the walls. It was all very haphazard and mismatched, but in a funky, cool way.
As we walked, I realized that the rooms were themed for the party. One was done up entirely in glowing red with a volcano in the corner. It went all the way to the top of the tall ceiling, spilling brilliant red lava. People danced around it, drunk and laughing, but I couldn’t look away from the molten stream.