Broomsticks and Burials

by Lily Webb

  My stomach turned. The more Grace described things, the more I believed her, even without being able to get into her thoughts.

  “Okay, say you’re right about that. How would anyone have gotten the blood into Opal’s tea in the first place? She would’ve had to brew it first,” I said.

  “The tea bag itself could’ve been soaked in the blood and dried. Or, more likely, the cream she was so fond of was contaminated,” Grace said.

  Someone would’ve had to get into Opal’s office to do either of those things, but based on what I heard in Ewan’s thoughts about the office being unguarded while Opal wasn’t there, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

  “Have you told the police this?”

  “Of course. They don’t believe me any more than the rest,” Grace said. Was that why the police asked Raina to analyze the tea? If Raina were half as skilled as I thought she was, she’d know if it was, in fact, vampire’s blood that’d killed Opal.

  “Why?” I asked. Grace fiddled with her veil.

  “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’m sure you’ll learn soon enough anyway. My hands aren’t fully clean,” Grace said, staring at her feet. “There’s no point in lying now.”

  “What? What did you do?”

  “Nothing illegal. I sought out opposition research,” Grace said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I hired someone to find embarrassing information about Opal and leak it to the press,” Grace snapped.

  I almost fell over when I realized what she meant. It could only be Deryn, Harper’s alleged anonymous source! That was why he went to Harper with what he knew. It wasn’t because he “thought Moon Grove needed to know,” it was because he was getting paid for it.

  Which meant the story about Opal’s parents was almost certainly correct. Lucien told me he and Opal were working together to cover it up, and now I knew why they needed to in the first place. But like Grace said, none of it was illegal — and it didn’t explain why Harper and Opal both had to die.

  “Is that why Opal’s sister said that to you?” I asked. Grace sighed.

  “I can only assume. In their minds, I’m just as guilty of murder as whoever actually poisoned Opal. They probably think I’m the one who caused all this,” Grace said.

  “How would someone even get a hold of vampire’s blood?” I asked.

  “You mean, other than being a vampire?” Grace asked. “You’d have to catch and bleed one or take a sample from a volunteer.”

  “But they’d know what their blood can do, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t just hand it over?”

  “Of course not. The sale of vampire blood is illegal for that reason,” Grace said.

  “Could the vampires be directly tied to this?”

  “No. They’re far too cautious and cunning to be so brazen,” Grace said. “I think the firm I hired to research Opal panicked when the story started to take off and feared they’d be exposed.”

  “So you think they killed Opal and Harper Woods both to protect themselves?” I asked.

  “Himself, and yes, I do. Mr. Houghton has been known to frequent The Blood Moon, which doesn’t have the cleanest reputation,” Grace said.

  “Mr. Houghton?”

  “Yes, Deryn Houghton. Before being disgraced and forced to moonlight as a mole, he was the Chief of Police,” Grace said, and my heart jumped into my throat. It was definitely the same Deryn then, the “source” who’d told me he used to be a cop. Whoa.

  “What’s The Blood Moon?”

  “A dive bar not far from here visited predominantly by vampires,” Grace said. “The only other people who’d show their faces there are those who aren’t welcome anywhere else.”

  Well, that explained what Deryn meant when he said he’d overheard vampires talking about a deal with Opal.

  “The bar also happens to be a hotbed of illegal activity. It’s frequently raided by the police. I don’t know why they don’t just shut the place down for good,” Grace said.

  It sounded lovely. If I had to guess, based on the clientele, Lucien Bellerose’s money was probably keeping it afloat.

  “Conveniently, I’ve been unable to reach Mr. Houghton for the last several weeks,” Grace said. “If I wanted to, I’m sure I could confront him at that bar because he doesn’t miss a night of drinking, but I’d sooner swallow vampire’s blood myself than set foot there.”

  “Leave it to me,” I said.

  Deryn and I had a lot to discuss.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As soon as the sun set the next evening, I snatched my phone off the couch where it sat by Luna and dialed Beau’s number. After a long, depressing day at the Messenger spent writing stories about Opal’s death and funeral, I needed something to take my mind off it all — and I needed to take action.

  “Hey, Zoe, how are you?” Beau answered, cheery as ever. Maybe some of it would rub off on me.

  “I’ve been better,” I said.

  “Sorry to hear that, but I understand. It’s been a tough week.”

  “Well, I was hoping you might be able to help me with that,” I said. “Are you free tonight?”

  “I am. What did you have in mind?”

  “Remember how you said I could pick where we went the next time we got together?” I asked.

  “Sure do.”

  “Well, I heard about this bar I really want to check out. It’s a little edgy, but I think it’ll be okay,” I said.

  “An edgy bar in Moon Grove? I didn’t know there was such a thing. What’s it called?” Beau asked. I hesitated, convinced he wasn’t going to like it. Oh well, better to get it over with now.

  “The Blood Moon,” I said, and Beau let out a sound somewhere between choking and laughter.

  “The Blood Moon? Zoe, are you serious? Do you have any idea what kind of place that is?” Beau asked.

  “Look, I’ll be honest, I have ulterior motives,” I said.

  “What reporter doesn’t?” he laughed.

  “True. I have it on good authority that someone I need to talk to is going to be there tonight, and I really, really need to talk to them, but I don’t want to go alone for, well, obvious reasons,” I said.

  “You shouldn’t go at all. Who is it you want to talk to anyway?”

  “Deryn,” I said.

  “Oh, goodness,” Beau sighed. “Zoe, I think this is a bad idea.”

  “You’re probably right, but like I said, I’m desperate here,” I said. “Please, Beau. I know you’ll keep me safe, and I don’t even know what Deryn looks like. You could help me spot him.”

  “A golden retriever against a room full of vampires isn’t exactly good odds,” Beau said. “But okay. I don’t want you going alone, and I know you will if I don’t go with you.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  “Thank you!”

  “When did you want to go?”

  “Um, now?” I asked. Beau laughed.

  “Are you sure? I don’t know if Deryn would be at a bar this early,” he said.

  “I dunno about that. I’ve heard it’s his haunt,” I said. “I guess we’ll see.”

  “And you’re absolutely sure he’s going to be there at some point?”

  “Definitely,” I said.

  “Okay. Do you want to meet me at Crescent and Luna in, say, ten minutes so we can walk together?” Beau asked.

  “I’ll see you then,” I said and hung up.

  “Heading out, huh?” Flora asked from her bedroom door.

  “Yeah, I guess Beau and I are gonna hang out again,” I said. Flora smirked at me.

  “At The Blood Moon? How romantic,” she said as she sat down on the couch beside me.

  “Is it really that bad?”

  “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been,” she said.

  “Oh, right. You’re like a super snack for vampires,” I said. Flora laughed and nodded.

  “I’ve heard it’s a real dive, though.”

  “What are you going to do tonight?”<
br />
  “I think I’ll stay in. Luna and I have some PV to catch up on, don’t we?” Flora asked Luna as she walked into Flora’s lap.

  “Are you kidding? We’re so far behind on both As The Moon Turns and All My Covens it’s not even funny,” Luna said.

  “Soap operas? Seriously? That’s what you guys do when I’m not around?” I asked.

  “Don’t judge me,” Luna said. “They’re way better here. At least there’s magic.”

  “Sounds thrilling. Well, I guess I’ll leave you two to it,” I said as I stood.

  “Be careful, Zoe. That place is crawling with sketchy people,” Flora said.

  “I’ll be with Beau. It’ll be fine,” I said.

  “I guess we’ll know where to look if you don’t come home tonight,” Luna said.

  “Very funny. Okay, I’ve gotta go, I’m meeting Beau soon,” I said and waved before heading for the door, my phone in hand. I didn’t know how to dress to go to a vampire bar, but I figured casual clothes were probably best, so the jeans and t-shirt I was wearing would have to do.

  When I got to the intersection of Crescent and Luna, Beau was already there. He smiled and walked to meet me. Judging from his own casual clothes, I made the right choice — or maybe he didn’t know what the heck to wear either.

  “You sure you want to do this? Do you wanna just go get Magishakes instead?” Beau asked.

  “Are you scared?”

  “Of course I am. I don’t normally do this sort of thing. We send the lower-level reporters to do this kind of work, not me,” he said.

  “It’ll be fine. We aren’t doing anything wrong. We’re just going to meet an old friend for drinks and conversation, right?”

  “Right, sure, an old friend,” Beau laughed. I looped my arm through his and smiled at him.

  “Come on,” I said and led him down Crescent Street toward the town gates.

  “Do you know where it is? Because I don’t,” I said. Beau laughed again and nodded.

  “Yeah, it’s hard to miss. I wish I didn’t, though,” he said.

  A block away from the entrance to town, we turned right into an unmarked alley. I was a little nervous before, but given the darkness and the clientele of the bar we were heading to, being in a sketchy backstreet didn’t help me feel better.

  The alley seemed to go on forever until we abruptly reached the end where a hovel of brick trying to pass as a bar sagged to one side. There wasn’t even a sign to tell anyone what it was.

  The bar’s wooden front door was so rotted through I wondered why they even had one. There weren’t any windows at all, which wasn’t a surprise. I’d gathered vampires weren’t exactly fond of the sun.

  “There it is,” Beau said. “The Blood Moon in all its glory.”

  “Let’s go,” I said and pulled Beau by the arm closer to the bar.

  As we approached, the sound of thunderous drums and squealing guitars rolled out from the building, and a piercing scream ruptured my eardrums. For a second, I thought someone had been attacked — until I realized it was a live metal band performing.

  Anxiously, I pushed the front door open and stepped inside to find a space that looked no bigger than a cellar, complete with concrete floors. The red overhead lighting cast the room and the dozens of vampires seated at janky tables in eerie shades.

  An undead foursome in leather jackets lined with metal spikes stood on a small stage at the front of the room, pounding away at their instruments while the crowd mostly ignored the show in favor of the dark liquid in their glasses. I shuddered to think what they were drinking.

  Beau looked like he’d been petrified — by the sight, sounds, or both, I couldn’t tell — so I led him further into the building and forced him down into one of the wobbly wooden bar stools that lined the dingy bar built into the right-hand wall.

  A tall, thin man who I could only assume was the bartender stood behind it with his back to us polishing a glass. Black hair spilled down his shoulders to his waist and curled at the tip. I pounded my fist on the bar to get his attention. He looked into the mirror in front of him, and when I didn’t see his reflection there, I froze.

  He turned to reveal pale skin and crimson eyes. He was a vampire too. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still caught me off guard.

  “Oh, là-là, what have we here?” the vampire shouted over the horrible sounds coming from the stage. “Have you ever heard the joke about the witch and the shifter who walked into a bar?”

  How did he know I was a witch? Could he smell it or something?

  “Yeah, hilarious,” I shouted back. The vampire smiled, revealing teeth stained with blood and an unsettlingly long pair of fangs.

  “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in any of our specialty craft blood brews?” the vampire asked. “They’re all locally sourced.”

  “Er, no, thanks, we’ll pass. We’re just here to see the band,” I lied — as if I’d ever willingly listen to this. “Could we maybe just have a couple waters?” I asked.

  “Of course,” he said, and in less time than it took me to sit down next to Beau, two glasses of water appeared in front of us.

  I doubted I’d ever get used to the superhuman speed of vampires, no matter how much time I spent around them.

  “My name is Jean-Marc. If you need anything else, let me know,” the vampire said. I nodded.

  “Are you okay?” I shouted into Beau’s ear. He grimaced and shrugged.

  “Couldn’t be better,” he said and drank half his water in one go. I rubbed his shoulder, and he smiled at me.

  “It’s only for a little while,” I said.

  Trying to make conversation would’ve been pointless thanks to the noise, so instead, I sipped my water and kept an eye on the front door. Given that we were the only non-vampires in the place, I figured it wouldn’t be hard to spot Deryn the werewolf if and when he came.

  I didn’t have to wait long. While the band was coming off stage for a break, the door swung open and a hulking man with a shaved head, an unkempt mutton-chop beard, and more tattoos than I could count stepped inside, his black combat boots thudding against the floor as he approached the bar. He looked every bit a cop — and a werewolf.

  Beau turned to look at me with wide eyes.

  “That’s him,” Beau mouthed, doing his best to keep his back to Deryn and avoid being recognized. I swallowed my nerves and watched as Deryn plopped down on the stool right next to Beau.

  “Bonsoir, Chief Houghton,” Jean-Marc greeted him.

  “I’ve told you a million times, don’t call me Chief,” Deryn barked. “Gimme my usual.”

  “Of course,” Jean-Marc said and produced a glass full of ice and amber liquid faster than I could see. Deryn drank it all in two gulps and slammed the glass down on the counter to demand another. Smiling, Jean-Marc obliged.

  “What are you going to do?” Beau whispered. Now wasn’t the time to be a chicken, so I pushed my stool back from the bar and stood.

  “What I came here to do. Watch my back,” I said and walked over to sit on Deryn’s other side.

  “Hey there, old friend,” I said. Deryn scowled at me with bloodshot brown eyes, the stretch of beard above his mouth stained — no doubt from liquor.

  “I don’t have friends. Who are you?” he barked.

  “Think about it. Maybe my voice sounds familiar. We talked on the phone not too long ago,” I said. Deryn searched my face, his brows furrowed until comprehension dawned in his brain, and his cheeks turned redder than the overhead lighting.

  “You’re that reporter,” he mumbled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Talking to an old friend, like I said.”

  “You’re crazy. You shouldn’t have come here. What do you want from me?” he asked, leaning closer to me like every vampire in the place couldn’t hear what we were saying anyway.

  “The truth. Who do you work for, Deryn?”

  “No one.”

  “If by no one you mean Grace Magnus,
sure,” I said and his face twisted in anger. “I know she paid you to dig up dirt on Councilwoman Cromwell.”

  “That isn’t any of your business,” he snapped.

  “It is when a reporter and candidate for Head Witch get killed,” I said. “We call that sort of thing newsworthy in the journalism business.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with either one of those,” he said. “Yeah, fine, Magnus paid me to get the gouge on Cromwell, but that’s all there was to it.”

  “Then why did you tell Harper Woods about it? Wouldn’t it have been enough to hand the info over to Councilwoman Magnus and let her campaign do the damage?” I asked.

  “The truth needed to get out there,” Deryn said.

  “Why?”

  “Because that blasted Cromwell witch had it coming!” Deryn snapped. “Never in my life have I discriminated against anyone, but she swore I did, and she convinced the Council of it. Next thing I knew, I was jobless and borderline homeless.”

  Was he talking about the same discriminatory hiring story Flora told me Harper was chasing before she died; the same one that caused a rift between Harper and Ewan? Whoa. That explained why Deryn wasn’t the Chief of Police anymore, though I wasn’t sure Mueller was a good replacement.

  “So you did it to get back at Councilwoman Cromwell. Understandable,” I said. “And Councilwoman Magnus must’ve known you’d go for it. But then the story got out of your control. It took on its own legs when Harper kept chasing it.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone, I don’t care what you think you know. I wanted justice for what Cromwell did to me, that’s true, but I didn’t kill her,” Deryn said, staring me in the eyes. I seized the opportunity to jump into his head.

  Why won’t she believe me? I took up the badge to protect people, not hurt them. If I’d known it was gonna get people killed, I never would’ve gotten involved. I should’ve just told Magnus to find someone else and laid low, Deryn thought. As I listened, I could’ve sworn I saw the beginnings of tears in his eyes. He wasn’t lying.

  “Ask Jean-Marc, I was here drinking all night that night, and I was in no shape to go out and try to murder someone after I left,” Deryn said.

  I didn’t find that hard to believe after the way I’d watched him suck down a double shot of whatever it was he was drinking and instantly demand more.