by Gina LaManna
“If our professional and personal lives intersect in a tangled mess, I fear you will choose your professional life over our personal one.”
“You think if there’s a conflict of interest, I wouldn’t choose you?” I turned the question over, meaning it to be rhetorical, though Matthew nodded. “But I own a pizza shop. I don’t work for the department anymore.”
Matthew’s lips went suspiciously slack. “For now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’re headed to the station,” Matthew said in an abrupt change of subject. “Speaking of bribes, I must talk with Felix.”
“No, we’re headed to the morgue,” I said. “First, Sienna. Then, the station.”
“But—”
“The morgue.”
Chapter 15
I wasn’t sure how, but I won the argument. Matthew and I soon found ourselves standing in front of the morgue, though Ursula wasn’t in the office. A replacement nymph sat there filing her nails, completely uninterested in our presence.
“Where’s Ursula?” I asked the necromancer once the nymph had granted us access to the lab. “She’s rarely sick. I don’t even know what sort of strain affects her species.”
Sienna gave a muffled grunt. “She’s not sick. There’s a mandatory training at the station, so Ursula’s scheduled for today. I got mine out of the way already. It’s a big Narcotics training.”
“On what?” I asked. “We just ran into Nash and Peter, speaking of Narcotics.”
“I saw both of them there—they were in my training session,” Sienna said. “The Narcotics Unit has frequent courses to keep us updated on the latest and greatest drugs killing our people.”
“Anything new this time?”
Sienna blinked. “Everything’s new in narcotics all the time. Sure, you’ve got the SpellHash regulars and the old favorites, but there’s always something on the horizon.”
“What about Harmony?”
Sienna looked curiously at me. “You transitioning to Narcotics, Detective? That’s not exactly public yet.”
“Why do you go to Narcotics training?” I asked. “You don’t work in the department.”
“No, but I have to know what to look out for as a cause of death. Drugs and their symptoms change frequently,” she said frostily. “If I didn’t know better, Detective, I would think this was an interrogation.”
“It’s not,” Matthew said. “We’re here to—”
“Why did you lie to me?” I leaned forward, unable to stop the outburst. “Why, Sienna? How long have we worked together?”
The necromancer stared at me, her hair a deep maroon that perfectly matched the tank top she wore under a leather jacket. Even Matthew dared not speak in the ensuing silence. Finally, she crossed her arms, her eyes flatlined of emotion. “Apparently, we haven’t worked together long enough. Get out of my lab.”
“Sienna, please,” Matthew started. “It’s not like—”
“The detective is questioning my judgment, no?” Sienna pursed her lips, glancing at Matthew. “That’s what I thought. Get out.”
“We’ll find out what happened,” I said, even as the first edges of doubt sprinkled into the back of my head. “Trust me, Sienna. I saw the Residuals. For the record—Residual Remover doesn’t work if you don’t follow the directions. Next time you want to play off a spell, I recommend reading the label first.”
A flicker of confusion crossed her face, and then disappeared. It was hard to say if the confusion was due to the fact she had no clue what I was talking about, or if she was just disappointed the remover hadn’t worked appropriately.
I didn’t wait around to find out. Heat was coming at me from Matthew, from Sienna, from inside myself, and I needed to escape from it. I turned, strode from the room without a backward glance, and found myself jogging down the steps as I struggled to catch my breath.
I expected Matthew to catch up with me despite my quick pace. For him, I moved at a snail’s pace. It took a lot longer than I expected for him to appear, and when he did, he was just as bristly as I expected.
“Smooth things over with Sienna?” I asked, trying to keep the bite out of my voice and failing. “She seemed surprised the Remover didn’t work out as she thought. Did you catch that?”
“She wasn’t interested in smoothing things over,” Matthew said. “What the hell was that, Detective?”
“Now it’s detective?” I whirled to face him. “What am I? Your girlfriend? Detective? Employee? Colleague? Odd sort of friends with benefits?”
“We’ve been through this, Danielle,” Matthew said. “Don’t make this personal. Why did you push Sienna when I asked you not to?”
“She had to know the truth! I saw the Residuals.” I gestured to my arms, painting the picture for Matthew. “I’m sorry if that didn’t go according to her plans.”
“She didn’t know anything about the Residuals.”
“Right,” I scoffed. “That’s a creative lie.”
“She didn’t.” Matthew’s resolve was so severe it made me stop and take notice as he studied me. “You ran out in a tornado without listening.”
“She told me to go.”
“Because you accused her,” he said. “By the way, she wants you to know dinner is cancelled. Apparently the two of you had a ladies’ night scheduled.”
“Great. I figured as much when she kicked me out of the morgue,” I said. “What was her excuse?”
“Her alibi is something that we can easily check on,” Matthew said. “During the time the bodies disappeared, she was otherwise engaged.”
“Doing what?”
“At the precinct,” Matthew said with a flimsy smile. “I would imagine she’s not lying if she’s expecting her colleagues to alibi her out. She could’ve come up with something else much more convenient and much less easily verified.”
“Why was she at the offices?”
“Training,” Matthew said. “On the day that the bodies disappeared, she was in a classroom all day long for the Narcotics quarterly update. I’m sure that is easily verified by the instructor at NYPD. When Sienna left in the morning, the bodies were there. Sienna also says that Ursula can confirm she didn’t step foot into the morgue all day long until her return from training—at which point the bodies were already gone.”
“That’s hardly an airtight alibi. I’m sure Sienna knows the morgue like the back of her hand. Side entrances, cubbies, whatever. We really should check the rest of the morgue to make sure the bodies aren’t hidden right under our noses.”
“You’re not listening to me, Dani. We can cross check Sienna’s whereabouts with other NYPD officers,” Matthew said. “If Ursula’s testimony matches up with the narcotics instructor’s testimony—and he confirms she was sitting before him in class all day—she is not our culprit. You have to look elsewhere—I don’t believe Sienna would lie about such an easily corroborated alibi.”
“It doesn’t make sense. The Residuals...”
“You’ve told me yourself,” Matthew said gently. “They’re not always one hundred percent accurate. Could it be a mistake on your part?”
I flatlined him with a stare. “I’m not perfect, but I know what I saw.”
“Dani—”
“What color are my eyes?”
“They’re brown, but last night...” He hesitated, watching me with a drop of desire there. “Last night they were violet.”
“If someone told you my eyes were blue, would you believe them?”
“No, but I know for a fact that your eyes are...”
“You see my point,” I said as he trailed off. “I know what I saw. Choose who to trust, Matthew. Me or Sienna because it can’t be both ways. At this point, it’s my word against hers.”
“There must be another explanation.”
“Sure, find it and share it with me, and I’ll consider it.”
I brushed past him, hopped onto a trolley. I was headed to the NYPD offices, but first, I needed to check
something out. A little hunch I had that was niggling at the back of my brain. Matthew leapt on behind me, standing close, too close—his arms holding to the bar just above my shoulders.
“Where are you going?” Matthew asked quietly. “This trolley is headed north of the station.”
“I’m not going to the station.” I waited in frustrated silence for a few more minutes, then hopped off at the stop closest to the marketplace. “Sorry, Captain.”
“But—”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” I told him as he stayed on the trolley. “I’m going to take some personal time.”
As the vehicle pulled Matthew away from me, I turned and let myself drift into the hustle and bustle of the marketplace’s main drag. I didn’t have a particular destination in mind, except to move toward the bread stand where I’d encountered Trenton’s mother. It seemed so long ago that I’d seen her, but hardly a day had passed. The memory sent a wave of nerves down my spine. I doubted I’d see her again; she seemed too weak to be out and about more than absolutely necessary.
I’d told Matthew that I was taking personal time, but that was only partly true. There was one particular person I wanted to find—the only problem was that I had no clue where to find him.
I decided to grab a SandWitch from an old woman’s stand and munch on it while I waited, killing two birds with one stone. I hadn’t realized how hungry I’d been until I caught a whiff of the meatball hoagie that was legendary from here to The Isle.
I’d just finished the last bite and was wiping my mouth with a magically self-cleaning napkin when I felt, rather than saw, the presence behind me. Turning, I found a man standing behind me, thumbs in the loops of his jeans, a halfway amused expression on his face. He was not the man I wanted to see.
“Grey,” I said, crumpling the hoagie wrapper and tossing it into the garbage. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Caught your scent,” he said. “Figured I should say hello.”
“Hello,” I said cautiously, sensing there was more. “I meant to thank you again for taking me—”
“They haven’t seen her,” Grey said, his eyes darkening suspiciously into a business vibe. His voice was clipped, his tone less friendly. “My brothers on The Isle—they’ve been looking around for Lucia and have come back with nothing.”
“How certain are they?” I asked. “Is there a chance Lucia is actually on The Isle, hidden away?”
“None.”
“But—”
“They have thoroughly looked, and her scent is nowhere to be found on the island. If she was ever there, it has been too long to catch a trace of her scent. Within the last three weeks, however, I can guarantee with absolute certainty Lucia hasn’t stepped foot on the island.”
“Thank you,” I said, digesting the information. “That’s...important to know.”
It was as I expected, but still a disappointment. Maybe a small part of me had held out hope that this entire search was in vain. That soon enough, we’d stumble upon Lucia holed up in an exotic locale canoodling some guy who’d convinced her to elope.
“It’s not ideal,” Grey said, “judging by your look of concern.”
I gave a shake of my head. “No, but that’s not your problem. You’ve already done enough for me—more than I could have ever asked.”
He gave a slow exhalation of breath, seeming resistant. “Do you want to talk?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“You’re back with him.”
The words were like a slap across the cheek. “Excuse me?”
“You’re back together with him,” Grey said, his voice edging toward ice. “You and the vampire are once again an item.”
“We are not an item, but thank you for minding your own business.” I should probably have tried to reign in the sarcasm, but I was getting very sick of people sticking their noses where they didn’t belong. “And even if we are together, what is it to you?”
Grey gave a half frown, though his frustration gave way to a mild disbelief. “It’s not my business, I was merely stating a fact. Maybe you wanted to talk about it.”
“I don’t.”
“I’m concerned for you,” Grey said, his brows furrowing with sincerity. “And I’m not sure Matthew is right for you at this moment. I’m not saying never, I’m just saying now.”
“Well, that’s not your decision to make.”
“No, but you’re hurting. You saw Trenton’s mother yesterday.” Grey studied the depths of my gaze, seeing past the walls I’d constructed against him. “I would venture a guess there was more yesterday. Something that deeply upset you on top of everything else.”
I gave a half-nod to signal he wasn’t wrong as I thought of Willa, of Jimmy, of disappearing bodies and lying colleagues.
“We tend to not make the best decisions in times of hurt and confusion,” Grey said. “I’m not against you getting back together with Matthew—believe it or not—I just worry about your...shall we say, safety.”
“Right,” I said dryly.
“He loves you fiercely,” Grey said, “even I can see that. But you need to give yourself time to heal, and then make your decision to fall back in love. I’m just telling you this because I’d like to see you happy—whatever that means.”
I could feel his words hitting me like bullets straight to the chest. One little bite after the next. Grey was irritating, but was he wrong? After all, hadn’t I said almost the same things to Matthew just this morning?
“What if I never fell out of love?” I said, clearing my throat. “I don’t know that I can ever fall out of love with him. I have tried. Hard. And so far, I have not succeeded.”
There was a flash of something in Grey’s eyes at that confession, but I wouldn’t lie. I realized it was as much a warning to him as it was a question. I couldn’t tell if Grey was interested in me on a romantic level or not—but Willa had seemed to sense he wasn’t entirely truthful in his stated intentions. Her whispered warning rang heavy in the back of my mind. And if that were true, Grey needed to know that my heart wasn’t yet mine to give away.
“I understand,” Grey said. “Just know that I care for your well-being.”
“Why?”
Grey gave a short bark of laughter that wasn’t out of humor, but of tragedy. “Because we’re two kindred souls in need of friendship. That’s all either of us can give at the moment.”
I felt myself softening, and I realized he was right. Though Matthew cared for me, his deep love at times made things complicated—especially when I couldn’t commit to him in the way he wanted. Not yet.
Grey tested the water by raising an arm and putting it around my shoulder. He was warm and felt nice in a comfortable sort of way, like a familiar hot water bottle or a fuzzy blanket. He curled me to his chest, which smelled woodsy and fresh, and I rested my head there.
“Thank you,” I said to him. “For understanding.”
He rested his cheek against my forehead and didn’t comment.
“Do you want company for your walk?” Grey asked when we parted. “I assume you’re not here on personal time.”
“Not exactly,” I said. “I’m looking for someone, but he’s proving impossible to find.”
Grey tapped his nose. “What’s he selling? I might be able to help.”
“There’s a guy with an Herbals cart who wanders this area of the street. At least, I think he does,” I said. “I’ve only seen him once before. He was selling all sorts of herbs and spices.”
“You think the cart is a front for something worse?” Grey sized up my reaction and understood. “Got it. I’ll be right back.”
Before I could ask where he was going, he disappeared into a dark back alley. I strained my eyes, looking for him, but caught nothing aside from the briefest glimpse of white fur along the rooftops. Then again, that might have been my imagination.
He was back in minutes, gesturing for me to follow him through the crowd. Soon enough, he stopped and nod
ded ahead. “Is that your guy?”
I spotted the long-haired man wearing the same grimy sort of tunic as he pushed a cart before him laden with all sorts of greens and dried spices and beads and junk.
“That’s him,” I said. “I’d better take it from here. Thank you for your help, and for the talk.”
“Anytime,” he said, and he was gone.
I reeled from his disappearance for a moment, trying to determine if he’d left on a good note or a bad one, before I spotted the Herbals vendor moving farther away from me. I pushed thoughts of Grey and Matthew away, then dodged through traffic until I got ahead. Parking myself in front of his cart, I waited as the vendor came to a stop.
“How can I help you?” the man asked. “We’re selling Organic Oregani and Hexless Huckleberries. Can I tempt you in a bit of Spellfree Spices or Homegrown Horticulturals?”
“Sure,” I said, flicking my badge open. “And then you can interest me in your illegal Herbals.”
The man froze in a ray of panic, but thankfully, I was prepared.
I pulled out my Stunner and aimed, then spoke in a low voice. “I don’t want to make a scene. Give me five minutes of your time, and I won’t even ask your name.”
The man’s eyes shifted around, searching for any witnesses. “Fine,” he hissed, “but get inside here and put the gun away. It’s bad for business.”
“Going to jail is worse for business,” I said, climbing into the center of the hut. The cart was a square thing with counters on all sides and wheels beneath. The man, Juno, if his nametag was anything to go by, stood in a small rectangle in the center and pushed the cart forward from the middle. With two of us there, the surroundings were tight.
Shuffling like an awkward dance troupe off to the side of the road, I finally exhaled a breath of relief as Juno parked the cart against the wall and leaned back. We were shielded somewhat from the sun and the stares of onlookers by the thatched roof that hung low over the sides, and I waited an extra moment to let my eyes adjust to the darkness before beginning my questioning.
“Harmony,” I said, jumping right into the heart of the matter. “What do you know about it?”