I jerked my hand away from Holt’s face. “Fine, sheesh! Ye don’t have to yell.”
“You’re right,” Morgan replied, visibly regaining her composure as she ran her hands down the length of her dress, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles. “Well, since it did not seem to affect you the way it should have, maybe you can help me.”
“Help ye, how?”
“Come stand over here and tell me what you see when you look at this Regular.”
“Why, what’s wrong with him?”
“I can’t say for certain, that’s why I wanted you to take a look,” Morgan replied, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Must you always be this difficult?”
“It’s probably hereditary,” I quipped, though I did as she asked and sidled past the others to stand in front of Watt. He held his gun pointed at the floor, though I could tell the strain of holding it upright was causing his forearm to twitch. That’s something most people don’t realize about guns; you can’t hold them long in the shooting position before your shoulder burns and your hand cramps up. Rather than risk him dropping it and a shot going off, I pried it out of his hand, wiped it down, and set it on a nearby chair.
“You aren’t looking at him,” Morgan chided.
“What’s to see?” I asked, scanning the rest of him. He’d changed into his uniform since last I saw him, though it was wrinkled and stained under the armpits, suggesting he’d meant to clean it, first. So, he’d been in a hurry. I mentioned that to Morgan.
“What in the name of Camelot are you talking about? I’m asking you to look at him. Really look.”
And, just like that, I knew what the enchantress wanted. I closed my eyes and opened myself up at the same time, allowing my senses to flourish as I had with Gretel and later Max. Admittedly, I’d never thought to try it on an ordinary person. For some reason, I’d assumed there would be no point. But that wasn’t the case, at all. Albeit fainter, perhaps, Watt gave off the sickly-sweet aroma of cooked meats and felt of slick tarp beneath my fingertips. Of course, Morgan had insisted I look, which meant staring at the odious man with all my senses dialed up as high as they could go.
Ugh.
“What’s that on his face?” I exclaimed as soon as I opened my eyes.
“So, you see it, too,” Morgan replied. “Interesting. And what does it look like to you?”
“A handprint?” I held up my own for good measure, marveling at the way the phantom mark glowed across the sheriff’s ugly mug like paint beneath a black light. “Aye, definitely a handprint.”
“Really?”
“Why, what’s it look like to ye?”
“It’s more of a smudge, really. But then my third eye has always been a little nearsighted. I wonder why your Seer friend didn’t catch it. Her second sight is rather remarkable, perhaps the best I’ve ever seen. Excluding your father’s, of course. But then his was primarily prophetic. Hard to compete with that.”
“Second sight? Is that what ye call this?” I motioned at my face and nose, deliberately avoiding talk of my father. “Circe didn’t have a word for it.”
“It is a name for it, yes. The Greeks reputedly thought of it far differently than we do. Anyone who had the gift was a pythoness. A descendant of Pythia. They regularly mistook seers for prophets, which I believe led to some rather unfortunate and gruesome deaths.”
“And what made ye t’ink I had it?”
“Between your mother and your father, I assumed it was inevitable. In any case, at least now I have some idea of what happened to this man to make him so disagreeable.”
“Pretty sure that’s just who he is,” I replied, unable to resist eyeing my handiwork.
“Oh? That’s a shame. But in this instance, I would have to say his actions are not entirely his own. I’ll explain in depth once we’ve woken your friends, though. I’d hate to go over it twice. Come on, you can start with your lover.”
“Whoa, there,” I said, waving both hands in denial. “Max isn’t me lover.”
“Really?” Morgan cocked an eyebrow. “But if that’s true, then...No, there isn’t time. We’ll have to discuss that, later. For now, go pinch his nose shut. It should shock him awake. I’ll do the others.”
I went to do as she asked, though part of me desperately wanted to know what she’d been about to say. Of course, I shouldn’t have been surprised; that was how the enchantress operated. She’d offer a tiny morsel of information to whet your appetite, then invite you to dine under her roof—which meant you were a guest in her house, forced to play by her rules.
“Max,” I called once I was close enough for him to hear me. “Oy, are ye in there? Hello?”
Once I was certain he was unresponsive, I grunted, grinned, and reached up to clamp the brujo’s nostrils together between my knuckles. He came to like a dog startled from a nap by its own bark, panting, his eyes panicked. In fact, he jerked away from me so violently he damn near knocked Holt to the ground
“Easy there, Cujo,” I teased, patting his beefy arm. “Ye were under Morgan’s spell for a few minutes, that’s all. Shake it off, you’ll be alright.”
“I will be once you get these things off me,” Max hissed, making a show of his handcuffed wrists.
“I don’t know,” I drawled, waggling my eyebrows in an effort to remove some of the sting. “I t’ink ye look pretty good in handcuffs.”
“Not funny.”
I shrugged. “A little funny.”
Several minutes later, all six of us were gathered around Watt while Holt, Nelson, and the poor hotel bartender continued to stare into the void. Though it seemed unlikely anyone would stumble in this early in the day, we’d already shut and locked the doors that led to the bar; if anyone wanted in, they’d have to knock, first. Once it was clear everyone had fully recovered and I’d removed Max’s cuffs, Morgan gestured to Watt’s face and the mark that lay upon it.
“Can any of you make out what’s there?” she asked.
“I can.”
“Sí.”
Lakota and Max spoke at the exact same time, only to exchange that look—the one that says okay, I see you. Depending on the personalities involved, that look could result in anything from a friendly wager to a knockout, dragout brawl. Which was why, when Max bowed out with a smile, I was so impressed. It wasn’t often a man could admit he was beat without having to take the beating.
“It’s a Cleric’s Mark, right?” Lakota asked. “I saw something like it down in New Orleans, once.”
“Oh, very good,” Morgan replied, clapping her hands together. “Do you also happen to know what it represents?”
“Afraid not. The supernatural community there was very hush hush, though I got the sense it was a blessing of some kind. Something the Vodun priests did to honor the spirits.” Lakota eyed Watt, distastefully, and shook her head. “I noticed the mark when he walked in but couldn't figure out what it was doing there, so I kept quiet about it. Besides, I couldn’t risk spooking the other two by pointing it out. Not with Watt losing his shit enough for all of us.”
“Ah, that explains it. Very sensible. Unfortunately, the Cleric’s Mark is no blessing. If anything, I’d call it a curse. Whoever bears that mark, you see, has been tasked to undertake a cause of some sort. Usually, that cause is rooted in dogma, or religious doctrine. They were quite the rage during the Crusades, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“Yeah.” Lakota looked troubled. “I mean, no. I’d rather not.”
“In any event,” Morgan continued, “it is my experience that only true fanatics are capable of placing them. The recipient, sadly, need not be a believer.”
“You’re saying Watt may be under someone else’s influence?” Lakota asked.
“I’m saying it’s possible. In order to find out for sure, however, you all will have a decision to make.” Morgan said, glancing at each of us in turn as though measuring our resolve. “I can remove the mark and free this troubled man from its influence with little difficulty. Or I can wake him up as he is
. Albeit restrained, of course.”
“I don’t see how that helps us,” Leo confessed. “If I understand you correctly, even if we tie him up, the mark will force him to keep coming after us.”
“That’s true. What’s more, it could cause a great deal of damage to his psyche to remain in such a state for too long without being able to do what he came to.”
“Then I say remove it.”
“And I shall, but removing the mark means wiping this man’s mind of the events leading up to and immediately after the time it was placed. Which means whoever it was will likely get away with it.”
“We know who it was,” Leo declared, matter-of-factly. “It has to be that witch, Angelika. She’s the only person he could have met with before rushing to change into his uniform, arresting Jimmy, and coming here. Plus, he had to get that witness intimidation bit from somewhere, and I doubt he’d have gone there on his own.”
Leo had a point. If Watt wanted to lock us all up on false charges, he could have gone about it in a half-dozen ways that made it damn near impossible to refute. Relying on the testimony of a civilian, on the other hand, was asking for trouble. What if she changed her story when forced to give a statement? What if her story didn’t line up with Watt’s?
It made no sense.
“You intend to stick with your original decision, then?” Morgan clarified. “Very well. Give me a moment, and I’ll have it right off.”
“Wait,” Max interjected. “A minute ago, you told us we would have a choice to make. But it seems like the choice was painfully obvious. You said it yourself, the sheriff would be in no condition to answer questions if we woke him up as he is. So why bring it up?”
The enchantress ducked her head. “While it is true that, under normal circumstances, this man would rant and rave until he was no longer lucid, you have Leo.”
“Me? I can only tell if he’s lying or telling the truth,” Leo said. “That won’t help us if he’s nuts.”
Morgan chuckled, though her laughter ended abruptly once it became clear no one else was joining in. She made a disbelieving sound and stalked towards the senior agent, forcing Hilde to wedge herself between them. Not that the enchantress noticed.
“Is this true?” she asked. “You truly believe that’s all you’re capable of?”
“Of course. Why would I lie?”
Morgan barked a laugh. “Why, indeed. And what if I told you that you possess the ability to do a great deal more than that? That you, a Demagogue, have the capacity to not only gauge what is true, but to compel honesty from everyone around you?”
“I’d say no thank you,” Leo replied, immediately. “It’s one thing to know when people are lying to me. That still leaves a lot of grey area. But forcing everyone around me to tell the truth? That would be so much worse.”
“How incredibly wise of you,” Morgan said, practically purring with approval. “Indeed, that is precisely why your power is so often considered a curse. Although, the fact that you do not currently suffer from such a fate suggests you have already overcome the curse, despite having no idea how. You must be extremely gifted, Special Agent Leo Jeffries.”
“I do what I can.”
“Oh?” Morgan licked her lips in anticipation. “And is that a throwaway phrase, or do you truly mean that?”
“I hope this isn’t you flirting,” Hilde growled, stepping into the enchantress so that the line of their bodies nearly touched. “Because that would be a mistake.”
“Flirting? Not at all! It’s merely a question. Does he, or does he not do what he can in any given situation? Is he the kind of man who would run into the burning building if he heard a child’s cry, or who would push a stranger out of the way of a moving car?”
For a moment, no one spoke.
Of course, that was probably because the answer was so painfully obvious.
“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like where this is going?” Leo asked.
“Because you’re no fool. Though, if I’m being honest, that’s what makes this so intriguing.”
“Stop wasting our time,” Hilde snapped. “Say what you have to say, already.”
For some reason, that sobered the enchantress up.
“Quite right,” Morgan admitted. “The truth is, I would love to see your gift in action. What’s more, if you allow me to help you, you could successfully interrogate this man before his mind gives out. Given the sheer probabilities involved, I believe it’s likely he knows or perhaps overheard something that might, dare I say it, crack your case wide open. The question is whether it’s worth the risk.”
Everyone stood silent at the end of Morgan’s spiel, staring anywhere but in Leo’s direction. It was a tough call, and none of us envied him the decision, though I suspected we’d all take his place if we could—even Max, who knew him the least. After all, that’s the kind of guy Leo was. You couldn’t help but love him, at least a little.
“Oh, and no pressure,” Morgan whispered, her voice wafting through the tension building in the air. “But you have about five minutes before the other two wake up on their own. So, you should probably—”
“I’ll do it,” Leo said. “If you can promise me you’ll help me put the genie back in the bottle once we’re done.”
“Oh, that goes without saying, dear! Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why not swear it on your power, just to be on the safe side?” I suggested, helpfully. “Consider it spell insurance.”
The enchantress shot me a scathing look.
“What? Afraid to put your magic where your mouth is?”
“The only thing that frightens me, dear, is how poor your manners have become,” Morgan replied, airily. “But if it will make you happy, then yes, I swear it on my power.”
“See? Now, was that so hard?”
Chapter 34
Watt woke up screaming, thrashing so hard he nearly overturned the table we’d handcuffed him to. Fortunately, Hilde and Max were there in an instant, pinning it down with their combined weight and strength so that it wouldn’t budge no matter how violently Watt reacted. A few feet away, Leo sat in a chair with his eyes closed while Morgan chanted away behind him, her hands circling his face in sweeping motions.
Hilde watched them like a hawk, her distress mounting to the point that the table had already begun to splinter beneath her hands. She alone had tried to convince Leo that he should avoid the risk and question Watt the old-fashioned way. Then, when that hadn’t worked, she’d pointed out the fact that he could always use his fully manifested powers as a last resort. Sadly, as Morgan had already noted, doing so came with its own drawbacks—like losing out on potentially vital information.
So, here we were.
“Get these damn handcuffs off me, you sons of bitches!” Watt shrieked, spittle flying from his lips. “I mean it! You’re all going to prison for this! And you! You’re mine, you hear me?!”
Distantly, I realized the sheriff was barking at me. Rather than feed into his psychosis, I turned away. Which, of course, only seemed to piss him off more; the sheriff lunged at me so suddenly I heard his shoulder come out of its socket with a sickening pop. The sorry bastard wailed in agony, writhing on the floor with his utterly useless appendages flopping along for the ride.
“He’s begun to go mad,” Morgan said, her voice carrying over the screams. She’d removed her hands from Leo’s ears, though the senior agent’s eyes remained shut. “If you do not make him see the truth soon, Leo, he will harm himself even further.”
In response, Leo leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees, his fingers interlocked, and gazed upon Watt with cold, dispassionate eyes. When at last he spoke, however, it was with a voice laden with heat and power.
“Sheriff Watt.”
Watt‘s next scream died in his throat. He rolled onto his side to stare up at Leo, his face slack with awe. For a moment, I wondered what it was like for him to be under Leo’s spell—then decided I’d rather not know.
“Why are you here, Sheriff?”
Watt stayed silent.
“It’s too complicated a question,” Morgan said in a hushed voice. “That’s like asking him for what purpose he was born. You’ve got such a tight grip on him right now that he can’t understand nuance. You have to ease up a bit. Perhaps try a few yes or no questions, first, until you get the hang of it.”
Leo dipped his chin and tried again. “Did you come here to arrest us?”
“Yes.”
“Did someone ask you to do that?”
“No.”
Leo frowned. “Did someone tell you to do that?”
“Yes.”
“And who was that person?”
“Angelika Novak.”
“Do you know why she wanted us taken into custody?”
“No...but I have my suspicions,” Watt replied, his face becoming more expressive by the moment.
“Which are?”
“I think she wanted you all out of the way for a while so that you wouldn’t interfere with her plans. I warned her it would cause problems for my career, but she didn’t care. She did something to me.” Watt shuddered, fear flitting across his face. “She’s done it to me before, back when I first began poking around her theater.”
“Poking around? What did you suspect her of?”
“Being an illegal. We get a couple undocumented performers every year, especially the circus folk from Eastern Europe. When I heard that’s where she was from, I thought I’d either deport her, or blackmail her. You’d be shocked how much money these people make to send home to their families. Paid off my mortgage last month.”
Leo hissed between his teeth.
“Focus,” Morgan advised. “Don’t get distracted. Remember, if you let your emotions get the best of you, the power will spread and then you’d have us all under your spell. And you wouldn’t care for that. Believe me. Though maybe I was wrong about loosening your hold on him. I didn’t realize how repulsive this man was.”
“This plan of Angelika’s,” Leo began again, forced to visibly swallow his anger. “What was it?”
Moonshine: Phantom Queen Book 11—A Temple Verse Series (The Phantom Queen Diaries) Page 19