by Jaye Wells
“You should talk to his new girlfriend about that.” The Hierophant’s eyes sparked with some of that old cunning, but they recovered quickly. “Or at least, I assume he was still dating her.”
“What’s her name?” Morales asked.
“Some terrible name I can never remember. She’s a Votary.” An elegant hand rose to wave dismissively. “Trashy but ambitious, you know?”
“I’m familiar with the type,” he said. “You got a description?”
“Never met her personally,” they said, all coy. Interesting, really, since very little happened in the Cauldron without their knowledge. “Just heard they were together through the grapevine. I’m afraid I’ve been so focused on my spiritual lessons that I’m out of the loop.”
“We’ll look into it,” Morales said noncommittally. Despite Aphrodite’s claims to be leaving the game, it was never smart to believe anything a coven leader said. “In the meantime, if you hear anything about Basil, let us know.”
“Of course.” The agreement came too easily to be sincere. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must resume my meditation.”
“While you’re at it, meditate on what will happen if we find out you’re planning on going after Basil’s killer yourself.”
“Kate, dear, you really should give meditation a try. It might help with your trust issues.”
I narrowed my eyes. I really hated this new Aphrodite. When they’d been proudly catty, they were way more likeable. “Trust, sure. Tell you what. You try that enlightenment crap on someone who wasn’t raised by the biggest bullshitter in the Cauldron.”
They laughed. “Fine, you want the truth? You don’t have a prayer of finding Basil’s killer.”
“So, you know who killed him.” A statement, not a question.
“I have a hunch, is all.” They paused. “Listen, I like you both, so I’ll shoot straight here. Basil was my blood, but karma’s a bitch. He made his choices.”
“You do understand that you have an agreement with the AUSA Grey’s office, right?” Morales said. “If you refuse to cooperate as an informant, you’re going to jail.”
All pretense of mindfulness dropped as a mean laugh escaped their mouth. “Then lock me up. Just wait until after my wedding.”
Something about the bravado seemed too forced. “You don’t seem too concerned about the fact someone murdered your own blood. Doesn’t that bother you?”
They didn’t flinch. “Damned straight. Lots of things bother me, though. Like how there used to be rules in this town, order. Honor among thieves and shit. But these young wizes?” They shook their shaved head. “No honor at all.”
“Which young wizes?” I demanded.
The courtyard door opened and Gregor marched in. He took one look at Aphrodite’s stiff posture and stepped between the Hierophant and us. “Time to go,” he said. “Now.”
“We’ll come back with warrants if we need to,” Morales said. “Or you can tell us what you know and save everyone a lot of trouble.”
“Help us bring Basil’s murderer to justice,” I added.
Aphrodite’s eyes filled with the deadly determination that had helped them rise to the head of the coven. “Justice,” they spat. “There’s no justice in this town. There’s only power and money.”
“Why are you giving up?” I demanded.
“Because this game is rigged, sweetheart. You want my advice? Cut your losses now.”
Before we could shoot back any questions, Gregor hustled the Hierophant off to the sanctuary room. He closed the door and stationed himself in front of it. He didn’t speak, but his expression made it clear that our invitation had been revoked.
Chapter Three
After leaving the Temple of Cosmic Love, we decided to knock off early. Until we got labs back from Mez, we didn’t have a lot to go on, anyway. Besides, I was pretty sure I’d be putting in plenty of overtime soon enough.
The meeting with Aphrodite was further proof that the case was going to be a pain in the ass. On top of my instincts that Duffy was setting us up, I was now also grappling with a growing sense of dread. Aphrodite’s dire words about karma had the stink of trouble all over them. Morales didn’t seem to share my concerns and, before he dropped me off back at my Jeep, suggested we start early the next morning tracking down Basil’s girlfriend.
As I walked into the kitchen that evening, I left those troubles outside. I rarely made it home before dark, so it was nice to get there with a couple of hours to spare before Pen arrived for our girls’ night.
I stashed my backpack by the door in case a call came in the middle of the night and I had to grab and go. A few minutes later, Danny wandered in while I rifled through the mail.
When he saw me he paused and shook his head. “What’s wrong?”
I frowned at him. “Nothing—why?”
“You never come home early unless something bad is happening.”
I put the letters on the counter and joined him at the table. “We sort of hit a dead end, so we called it a day. Pen’s coming over tonight. I’m ordering pizza.”
“Sweet,” he said. “I’ll eat in my room. Chemistry test tomorrow.”
Normally I would have found his willingness to study suspect, but ever since we left the snooty private school, his grades had been steadily improving. I guess without the distraction of being a working-class Adept kid in a school full of rich Mundanes, he had more time to focus.
“Need any help?” I asked, trying to be a decent parental figure.
He shot me a suspicious look.
“What?”
“What do you know about chemistry?”
“Um, I spent the majority of my youth cooking potions, so I know a thing or two about how chemicals behave.”
“Yeah, but that was dirty magic.”
“It might have been dirty but it was still alchemy, which was the foundation of modern chemistry.”
“All right,” he said in a challenging tone. “Which law states that the pressure of a gas is inversely proportional to the value of a gas at a constant pressure?”
The hand on the wall clock ticked five times before I answered.
“Boyle’s Law.”
His eyes grew wide. “I seriously didn’t think you’d get that.”
I crossed my arms and tilted my head at him. “I’m just saying if you need help, I’m here for you.”
His smile was genuine but surprised. “I think I got this one, but I’ll let you know.”
Quitting while I was ahead, I turned to resume my mail shuffling. “How’s everything else at school?”
“Fine.”
“You met any new friends in your classes?”
“Not really. There are a couple of guys that are all right, but people mainly leave me alone.” Instead of sounding depressed by this, he seemed relieved.
I didn’t comment on that, because the more I suggested he try harder to make friends, the more he’d withdraw from me. The trick, I’d learned, was to give him some space while also watching like a hawk. If I wanted to suggest something, I had to be tricky about it because teenagers could smell meddling from a mile away.
The fourth piece of mail in the stack looked different from the others. Instead of being another credit card offer or piece of junk mail, this one was a thick envelope made of high-quality cream paper. The return address was from something called the Conservatory for the Arcane Arts. It was addressed to the Parents of Danny Prospero.
“What’s this?” I asked, holding it up.
He came and took it from me. When he read the return address, his face paled. “Um.”
I raised a brow and let the silence speak for itself.
“So, uh, a few months ago, I heard something about a new school opening up—”
“What kind of school is it and where?”
“It’s a magnet school for Adept kids. They’re opening it in the Cauldron this fall.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I sort of applied.”
Tick, tick, tick went the clock. This
time, the silence stretched until I could respond in a calm voice. It was a lot of ticks.
“You…applied? You would have needed a guardian’s signature.”
As if summoned, Baba came through the door in a cloud of white hair and patchouli stink. She was a seventyish-year-old witch who used to be our next-door neighbor, but she’d moved in with us several months earlier after the landlord raised her rent more than she could afford. The situation worked out well for me because she cooked and looked after Danny. Plus she was a hoot when she wasn’t meddling or forcing her witch’s brews on us.
She took one look at our stand-off and froze. “Uh-oh, what happened?”
I snatched the envelope from Danny and waved it. “He was just explaining how he applied to some school without telling me. You know anything about that?”
Two spots of pink appeared on her papery cheeks, but her expression remained neutral. “Why would I know about it?”
“Baba.”
“Kate.” Her bullish expression was the kind achieved only by women who’d lived long enough to know that patience won more arguments than shouting.
I turned to my brother. “Who signed the application?”
“I did,” he said.
“You forged my signature?”
He pointed at the old woman. “But she knew!”
The betrayal morphed Baba’s expression from innocence to a promise of retribution. “You’re a devil, Danny Prospero.”
“I’m not going down alone,” he muttered.
His response was so classic Prospero that I almost laughed. Almost.
Baba sighed. “Then you better tell her about Volos.”
No name on earth was guaranteed to ruin my mood more than that one. “What about Volos?” I enunciated each word careful so I wouldn’t yell them.
Mayor John Volos and I had a somewhat complicated and shady shared history. We grew up together in the Votary coven, and we’d been teenaged sweethearts. After I left the coven, we didn’t speak for about ten years. But ever since I got on the MEA task force, he’d been back in my life causing lots of trouble, including, apparently, encouraging my little brother to sneak behind my back.
Danny sighed. “He’s involved in the school somehow, and he told me about it.”
I threw up my hands. “Why didn’t anyone tell me about it?”
“It was a while ago. Back before I was in the hospital.”
The previous year, Danny had been targeted by a wizard I was chasing. He hexed my little brother with a potion that turned him into something like a werewolf. Then he unleashed my brother on me in the city’s abandoned subway tunnels. Curing Danny had required me to team up with Volos to create an anti-potion. Afterward, he tried to use the fact I’d cooked illegally to blackmail me.
Yeah, he was a real peach, that guy.
“Remember that day I went to see John and you came to get me?” Danny said. “He mentioned it before you got there. Later, he got in touch to tell me applications were available.”
I waved the envelope like a murder weapon. “Why didn’t you tell me then?”
“Because you were so rigid about magic back then,” Baba said.
The words hit me like a slap. My mouth opened and closed as I struggled to find words to deny her claim. None appeared, because there was no denying I had been completely irrational in my insistence that Danny stay far away from anything remotely related to magic back then.
Before I could come up with an appropriate response, Danny held up his hands. “Guys, can we hold off on the argument until we find out if I got in?” He nodded toward the envelope, urging me to open it.
Across the kitchen, Baba leaned back against the stove with her arms crossed and an annoyed expression on her face. But I could tell she was just as eager as the kid to find out if he got in.
I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the stack of folded sheets inside. The top page contained a letter. I cleared my throat and read aloud.
“Dear Parents of Danny Prospero, we are pleased to inform you that Danny has been accepted—”
The rest of the words were lost in a volley of squeals and shouts from my companions. Danny ran to Baba and high-fived her before she wrapped him in a big hug.
“You did it, kiddo!” she said.
I stood to the side with the letter, feeling a completely opposite set of emotions.
“We have to call Mez,” Danny said.
“Why would you call him?” I said, my tone quiet as a tomb.
“Oh, crap,” he said, face falling. “It’s just— after I started taking lessons with him, I mentioned the school thing. Turns out he knew the principal because they went to school together. He called her and put a good word in for me, so I thought he’d want to know I got in.”
Knowing that even Mez knew about this made me feel like I’d just swallowed a shit sandwich. “You might want to hold off on alerting anyone.”
“Why?” Danny asked.
“Because I haven’t said yes.”
The mood in the room plummeted.
“Kate,” Baba started, “don’t be like that.”
I slammed the papers on the counter. “Don’t be like what? Don’t be angry that you hid this from me?”
Danny’s shoulders slumped. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?”
“Why can’t you stop hiding shit from me?” I shot back.
My little brother, who was not so little anymore, stood up straighter, looked me dead in the eyes, and said, “Because I knew you’d make it about you. But guess what, Kate, this is my life. You made your choices and now I’m making mine.”
With that, Danny started to gather his things from the table. I watched him in stunned silence. I didn’t trust myself to respond yet because his words had hit too close to home.
“I’m going to go study.” He picked up the flashcards he’d been reviewing earlier and froze. He held up the top card and waved it at me accusingly. It said Boyle’s Law. “You cheated.”
I tipped my head and shot him an ironic look. “Ditto.”
* * *
An hour later, I sat on the back patio, staring at an empty beer bottle. I stared at it in the hopes that it would spontaneously refill itself, since I didn’t trust myself to go back in the house and risk running into Danny or Baba.
So I sat and I stared, and I tried like hell not to think about how I’d brought this school thing on myself.
“Pizza’s here! The delivery guy pulled up at the same time I did.”
Pen held a large pizza box in one hand and the remaining five-pack of beer in the other. When she saw the look on my face, she paused on the back step with her foot hovering in midair. She wore the same black yoga pants I’d seen her in the last three times we’d been together, but the yellow T-shirt made her brown skin glow. “Uh-oh. Should I leave?”
“I’ll never speak to you again if you do. Bring that beer over here.”
She continued to the patio table and set down her goodies. She opened a beer and passed it to me.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you, too, but you look like you’re ready to commit a murder.”
“Multiple murders. Many, many murders.” I took a long swig.
“I assume that Baba is one of your intended victims.”
“How did you know?”
“When she let me into the kitchen, she was waving a lit sage bundle around. When I asked her why, she muttered something about the house needing a spiritual cleansing to get rid of bad karma.”
I pursed my lips. “I’ll show her karma.”
Pen dropped into the chair across from me and nudged my foot with her own. “Spill it.”
I finally looked up and really saw my friend for the first time since she’d arrived. Guilt slammed into me hard as I realized I hadn’t even said hello to her. It had been a few weeks since we’d spent any real time together, and she had walked in to another Prospero drama show.
“You know what?” I said. “Let’s not. To
night’s about you. How’s the job hunt?”
She winced. “Honestly, I was hoping to talk about something other than my problems tonight.”
“Well, I’m not ready to talk about what they did to piss me off yet,” I said. “Pick something else.”
“All right,” she said, “how’s the hunk?”
I laughed. “Smooth transition.”
She winked at me. “Tell me everything.”
I flipped open the pizza box and handed her a piece before taking one of my own. I was totally putting off spilling the beans on Morales, but I also knew it was a futile gesture. Pen would sit there until I told her every juicy detail.
“There’s not much to tell,” I hedged.
“Girl, please. Do you really expect me to believe that boy isn’t worth gossiping about?”
It was hard to argue with that. Morales was basically an action figure come to life. I literally had not had a boring moment with him since I met him—either in or out of the bedroom.
“I mean, it’s fun, yeah. Really fun. But we’re keeping it casual, you know?” I shrugged and took a bite of pizza.
“Does he know that?”
I plucked a pepperoni from the top of the pie and ate it before answering. “Of course.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Last time I saw you two together he didn’t look at you like a man with casual things on his mind. That was weeks ago, Kate.”
“You’re imagining things.”
She ate some pizza, but I could tell she wasn’t done. Chewing was just an excuse to regroup her thoughts in order to launch another attack.
“Well, I’m glad you’re finally getting some on the regular.”
“Thanks, I think,” I said. “Maybe you need a fuck buddy, too. Get your mind off your work situation.”
“I’ve been wearing the same pants for five days. I’m not exactly prime fuck-buddy material.”
“Ah, sweetie, don’t sell yourself short. If I were a guy, I’d totally do you.”
“Thanks.” She snorted. “Anyway, I’ve never been into flings. I have this annoying habit of developing lasting attachments to men who give me orgasms.”
“You can be fond without forming expectations,” I said. “I mean, Morales is my partner. In my line of work, you end up forming this intimacy with the people you work with, like family. I would have taken a bullet for the guy before he started giving me orgasms, you know?”