by Jaye Wells
He jaw tightened. “It wasn’t the right time to tell you.”
My hand curled around the document. “The right time to tell me was ten years ago, you bastard.” I paused. “Besides, I already saw this.”
His eyes widened. “When?”
“Grace Cho shoved it in my face the other night.”
“Cho showed it to you?” He’d come around the desk and leaned back against it with his arms crossed, watching me. The mood in the room had shifted the instant he’d mentioned my mother. But the tension wasn’t just from me. It radiated off him, too, almost as if he were bracing himself.
“I told her it had to be a mistake.”
He shook his head. “It’s not.”
I took a slow, bracing breath. “Why did Abe lie to me? Why would he let me believe she’d died from taking my potion?”
His gaze drew away from mine. “He was protecting you.”
“By blaming me for her death?” I would have laughed at the ridiculous notion if I hadn’t spent the last decade flailing myself with guilt.
He sighed. “Kate, there’s something—there’s more to it.”
I waited expectantly. On some level, I was aware that I should be screaming. But shock weighed down my limbs and protected me from imploding—yet.
“Abe got word that someone in the coven was selling information to one of his rivals.”
“Which rival?”
“The Quincunx.”
“The supercoven in New York?” I frowned. “You mentioned them the other day, too. Something about Abe having an old beef with the leader.”
He nodded. “The Philosopher.”
I ran a hand through my hair, as if it could somehow help me sort through his confusing switches in topics. “What does this have to do with my mom?”
“Like I said, Abe got word someone in the coven was selling secrets to the Quincunx. He started by watching his inner circle, but no one showed any signs of having been turned.”
“What? How is it possible I never heard anything about this?”
He just watched me for a moment, letting me draw my own conclusions. A burning sensation began in the pit of my stomach.
“He asked me to watch and see if anyone made unusual purchases, which might indicate a sudden infusion of cash.” He hesitated but held my gaze steady. “She had just bought Danny a new bike.”
“No. Fuck you.” I shook my head. “She worked two jobs to earn that money.”
“I know, but she also paid a lot of money to a man who specialized in forging documents, like birth certificates and driver’s licenses. The kind someone would need to start a new life.”
The burning grew until it was a red flame in my chest. “You’re lying.”
“I wish I was,” he said. “Trust me, telling him that was the third-hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
My head jerked up. “The third?”
“The first was letting you walk away from the coven,” he said.
I bit my cheek to keep from screaming. “And the second?”
I’ll give him this—the bastard gave me the respect of looking me in the eye. “Not telling you the truth to make you stay.”
“You fucking knew,” I whispered. “You knew I was eating myself from the inside for her death.”
He swallowed and nodded. “Abe told me if I told you what really happened he’d kill you and the kid.”
“But—” I cleared my throat because it felt like it was filled with buckshot. “Why? Why did he want me to think I was responsible?”
“He said he needed to see how you reacted. I guess he thought maybe you were in on it with your mom. He let you go because he wanted to see if you went to The Philosopher. When you didn’t, he figured it was only a matter of time until you’d come back.”
I put my right hand to my mouth as my mind processed everything he was saying. But my fingers were trembling, so I lowered into a chair and dug my fingertips into the wood. My left hand was busy pointing the salt flare at Volos. “Did you pull the trigger?”
His eyes closed. “I know you think I’m a monster, Kate, but even I am not evil enough to kill the mother of the woman I love.”
I didn’t miss that he’d used that four-letter word in the present tense. I was beyond caring about his fucking feelings. “That didn’t stop you from investigating her and ratting her out to Abe!”
His eyes popped back open, and the intensity in his gaze made me back up a step. “I was trying to prove her innocence, goddamn it!” He blew out a breath and physically struggled to get hold of his temper before he continued. “And I had to stop her, Kate,” he continued in a quieter tone. “She was selling information to earn money to get all of you out of Babylon. I couldn’t lose you.”
Now it was my turn to close my eyes. I felt breathless and empty, as if I were that empty glass now. “Why?” I whispered.
He laughed bitterly. “Good question. You left anyway, didn’t you?”
I shook my head. “No, why was she trying to get us out?”
“Same reason you left, I’d imagine. She saw what working for Abe was doing to you, and wanted to save Danny from the life.”
A rebellious tear seeped out from under my lid. I swiped it away and opened my eyes. “If it wasn’t you, who pulled the trigger?”
“Charm.”
A humorless laugh escaped my lips. “Of course.”
I dropped my head in my hands. A warm hand landed on my shoulder. It reminded me of the time Charm had performed the same movement to comfort me over the death of my mother. I shrugged him off. Volos didn’t say a word—he just gave me my space.
I’d been a fool to mourn Charm at the crime scene. The hand he’d put on my shoulder to comfort me had been the same one he used to pull the trigger on the gun that killed my mother. Souza should have kept the bastard alive while he dismembered him. He deserved that and worse pain for killing my mother.
Burn in hell, asshole.
A vortex of memories opened around me. The past and the present swirling together until I couldn’t tell them apart. When I’d left the coven I thought I’d taken control of my own life for a change. And for a few years I had. But here I was right back where I began—being manipulated by power-hungry men.
Just like my mother.
I didn’t kill her, I didn’t kill her, I didn’t kill her.
The words marching through my brain should have made me feel relief. They should have released the pressure valve on my guilt, but instead all I felt was rage at the fucking futility of it all.
I thought about the decade I’d spent abusing myself and trying to make amends for a sin I hadn’t fucking committed. Meanwhile, the assholes responsible for her death had gone about their merry way without consequences. Worst of all, I’d never let myself properly mourn Maggie Prospero’s soul because I’d been so busy trying to save my own.
“Kate.” John’s voice shattered over me—or maybe it was me who was shattering.
The little fissures of pain cracked open my chest. Any illusions I’d protected in the center of myself took flight like startled birds. The hollow space left behind flooded with a rush of cold, dark clarity.
“You’re a monster.” I didn’t raise my voice or let any emotion color the words. They were simply spoken as a statement of fact. “You held on to the truth like money in a savings account.” A bitter laugh rose like a frigid wind in my throat. “And now you’re trying to cash it in to save your life.”
His expression didn’t change. “Wrong,” he said. “I told you—”
The phone in my back pocket rang.
“Don’t answer it.” His voice was seductive as the devil’s. Those eyes that had looked at me for so many years pleaded with me to spare his life. “Please, Katie.”
If what he’d said was true, my mother had been trying to make a better life for all of us by doing the one thing she’d always done well—selling herself for money. For the O Coven, she’d sold her body, but to escape Abe she’d sold her soul to
The Philosopher—and it had cost her life.
The phone rang again.
No, I thought—this was worse. At least my mother had been paid for selling parts of herself to the highest bidder.
John Volos wanted me to hand my soul over for free.
The sound of the front door opening echoed through the penthouse. “Kate?” Morales called.
“In here.”
On the third ring, Volos’s shoulders relaxed, as if he already smelled victory.
Tears fell freely now. Small, wet circles bloomed hot on my legs, like a baptism.
I pulled the phone from my pocket. John’s eyes widened. “Don’t—” He lunged toward me. I raised the salt flare. He stumbled to a halt with his hands raised.
“Kate?” Morales said from the doorway.
I thumbed the answer button. “Mr. Souza?”
“Katie, no.” Volos’s voice cracked.
I smiled at the flash of fear in his eyes. If he hadn’t tried to manipulate me by absolving me of my mother’s murder to gain my sympathy, I would have filled him in on the plan. But right then I wasn’t too eager to alleviate his worries. He deserved to suffer a little. Lord knew he hadn’t done anything to alleviate my suffering over the last decade.
“Yeah,” I said into the phone, “we’ve got him.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The tanker loomed over the dock. Its hull was rusty and covered in thick barnacles, like scabs. In this part of the docks, all of the lights either had burned out or were broken by punks or criminals looking to conduct illegal business under the cover of shadows.
The vessel’s name was painted in white at the prow. “Eris,” I read.
“Goddess of discord,” Volos said absently. I refused to look at him or acknowledge his words.
“It’s sailing under a Dutch flag,” Morales said. “Not Brazilian, as we’d assumed. That explains why we kept striking out yesterday.”
The air smelled of algae, rotting wood, and decaying fish. Beside me, Morales kept his gun on Volos. I studiously avoided looking directly at our prisoner despite his attempts to engage me. It’s not that I was afraid he’d make me change my mind about turning him over to Souza. I just didn’t trust myself not to let my temper take over and punch him in the face.
After I’d taken the shaman’s call, I’d handcuffed Volos to his desk and pulled Morales into the hallway. Getting some space between Volos and me had been crucial. The way I’d been feeling, I’d have been completely capable of killing him myself.
Naturally Morales had demanded to know why he walked in on my crying and Volos looking like he’d lost his best friend. I’d quickly explained how the mayor had tried to buy his life by telling me the truth about my mother. I shared this in a robotic tone that made Morales frown with worry and pull me in for a hug. I resisted the contact at first, but soon found myself sinking into the comfort he offered. But I didn’t allow myself to cry anymore. I was done shedding tears.
After that, we’d put phase two of the plan in motion and called the rest of the team to put it into action. To his credit, Volos never demanded to know what we were planning. He’d gone very quiet, but I could see the gears moving behind his eyes. When the time was right, Morales could tell him how we were going to pull this off, but I refused to be the one to ease his mind. I knew I was being petty. Hell, I’d hexed the man and kidnapped him. I was far from an angel. Still, I reminded myself that Volos was the reason several people were dead and Gardner had been kidnapped.
The area in front of the ship was quiet and still. The three of us were ducked behind a large shipping crate closer to the row of warehouses near the docks themselves.
“What do you think?” Morales said in a low tone.
I sucked in a breath through my nose. My eyes scanned the ship’s deck for signs of life. The only movement I saw was the flags on the mast whipping around in the cold winds coming off Lake Erie. “I’ll go in first.”
Both men spoke at once and they both said the same word: “Bullshit.”
After that I tuned them both out as they competed to be the one who talked me out of my plan. Morales’s protests bugged me more than John’s. As my partner, he knew I could hold my own, but I was worried that the personal stuff would make him see me as someone to protect instead of as an equal.
“Enough!” I hissed. “Jesus, you two. I swear it’s like neither of you knows me.” They shut up then. Morales looked more contrite than Volos did. “If we walk in with Volos we have zero leverage. I’ll go first, get the lay of the land, and then give you and Mez the signal when the time is right.”
“But—” Volos began, then drifted off in the face of my glare. He might be mayor, but he’d seen that expression on my face and heard that tone in my voice enough to know he wouldn’t win this one.
Once he was quiet, I looked at each man in turn and nodded when they didn’t argue. “Mez?” I said into my intercom.
“Yo.”
“You all set?”
“If by set you mean armed to the teeth with potions, yes.”
“Good man. Remember to wait for the signal.”
“Understood.”
We’d called Mez with the plan on our way to the docks. He’d met us there with the supplies we’d requested and then retreated to provide backup. Shadi, meanwhile, was stationed on a roof somewhere nearby with the all-seeing eye of her sniper rifle. I quickly did a check-in with her, too.
“I’m going to radio silence,” I said before signing off with her, “but Morales will be connected for the time being. You see anything off, you let him know.”
“Ten-four.”
I pulled the earpiece out of my ear and held it toward Morales. His expression had testosterone all over it, but my own told him I was immune to macho tactics. Finally he sighed and took it from me. But when I repeated the procedure with my gun, he couldn’t keep quiet anymore.
“I’m not sending you in there unarmed.”
“Thank God,” Volos breathed. “A voice of reason.”
“How long do you think Souza will let me keep a weapon? Besides, I have one of Mez’s magic-dispersing amulets under my Kevlar-and-salt vest.”
“A vest won’t stop a bullet to the head, Kate.” Volos’s tone was quiet but the point hit home.
“He won’t shoot me until he has you,” I said. “Then all bets are off.”
I rose from my crouch and peered around the corner of the shipping crate. Morales scooted over to join me. He didn’t touch me, but I could feel the tension burning off his skin.
“I don’t like this.”
I turned to look at him. Just beyond his shoulder, Volos was doing an unconvincing job of trying to look like he wasn’t eavesdropping. To Morales, I said, “You don’t have to like it. You just have to let me do my job.”
“But who’s going to watch your ass? That’s my job.”
“No, your job is to trust me.”
“I do.” He placed a hand on my arm. It was a simple gesture, but combined with the sudden gravity in his gaze it took on new meaning. He moved closer and I could smell the sweat on his skin. The scent memory reminded me of the taste of him. A warm feeling bloomed in my chest. “Be careful,” he whispered.
Behind Morales’s back, Volos cleared his throat. My gaze strayed toward him. He wasn’t bothering to pretend he wasn’t watching us anymore. His eyes were narrow and his jaw hard. He hadn’t missed the intimacy of the touch and the tone, either.
I looked back at Morales and stepped away. A stung look passed over his features. I pointed at Volos, whom I wasn’t convinced wouldn’t run and screw us all. “Watch him or he’ll try to escape.” With that, I turned and ran before he could say anything else. I heard him say my name, trying to call me back, but ignored it. The confusion tugging me in two directions was dulled by the thrill of adrenaline in my veins. I savored the jolt and picked up my speed to outrun the pair of magnetic forces willing me not to go.
The shadows along the pier provided ample cover. C
loser to the boat, the scent of rotting fish grew stronger and the air grew colder. About twenty feet from where I crouched, a set of steps led up to the deck. I was surprised not to see any armed guards watching the entrance. I’d figured Pantera would have a thug there to pat me down before I boarded. Instead, the ramp lay empty, like a silent invitation to come aboard. Something about the silence felt ominous, but I didn’t have the luxury of being cautious. I knew the shaman had tricks to play, but the only way to get him to show his hand was to play along for now.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the ramp. As I did, a wave of energy passed over my skin. Like a sizzle of static electricity. My hair stood on end and my nerve endings tightened. I was wearing Mez’s protective amulet, so whatever magic the shaman had just thrown at me passed by useless. Most likely, though, it had been an Arcane sensor—meant to detect whether I was packing any magical weapons. I prayed he’d warded only the stairs and not the entire ship.
I reached the top of the ramp without further incident and stepped onto the metal deck. Wind whipped up from the water, buffeting my clothes and making my hair lash at my face.
The main part of the cargo ship’s deck was made up of a series of tall hatches that opened to allow filling from loaders above. There was also a several-stories-tall pilothouse to my left, but it was totally dark. I stopped and closed my eyes, listening. In the distance the sound of boat horns echoed mournfully in the dark. Water slapped against the ship’s metal hull. The muted sound of traffic thumping across the seams on the Bessemer Bridge created a steady rhythm. But underneath all that, the high-pitched sound of metal beating against metal echoed from somewhere deep in the ship’s bowels. I opened my eyes and started forward, toward the hatches. Most were closed, but about halfway up the row, one massive lid lay open. Above it, a large loader—which looked like a crane but with a spout instead of a hook at the end—hung over the opening.
I approached the open hatch slowly. The banging sound got louder the closer I got to the opening. Moving carefully, I edged up until I could look over the lip that rose a couple of feet off the deck. The hole was dark, but I had a sense of vastness and depth below. I blew out a quiet breath. The tapping sound was coming from inside that cavern, which meant I was going to have to go investigate.