by Erin Johnson
“I have to cover her!” Peter leapt to his feet, firing spells over Daisy’s head at Pearl. The woman kept thrashing forward through the water, turning now and then to fire spells back at us. I bit my lip, antsy. I longed to help, but without magic, I could only stay crouched to avoid being hit. I clenched my hands into fists and bit my lip, willing Daisy on.
Peter kept Pearl distracted enough with his attacks that she didn’t notice Daisy until she was only about twenty feet away from her.
“Get her, girl,” I muttered.
Pearl lowered her wand at the dog and hit her, dead in the nose, with a poison green spell.
Daisy yelped.
“Daisy!” Peter cried, as I leapt to my feet screaming, “No!”
The dog rolled onto her side and floated, unmoving, on the surface. Pearl, still lit in the glow of Peter’s wand, smirked, then turned her back and dashed away.
Cold dread flooded my stomach. Was Daisy alive? Could she breathe, floating in the water like that? Peter let out an anguished moan. “Daisy!”
I eyed the cold water and curled my lip, then reached down and yanked my boots off. Peter bent over and lifted the bottom of his pants, revealing tall, tightly laced leather boots. He fiddled with the knot with trembling fingers. I threw my jacket off, then yanked off my shirt so I stood in only my bra and jeans. “Really?”
“It’s police code,” he grumbled, stopping every few seconds to look Daisy’s way.
I unzipped my jeans, stepped out of them, and ran to the end of the dock. I dove in, wearing only my underwear and socks. I came up gasping at the freezing cold water, goose bumps covering every inch of skin. I didn’t have time to pause to catch my breath or ease in. I put my head down and kicked, my arms slicing the water in sharp strokes.
A flood of warmth hit me, like stepping into a hot bath. I turned my head and glanced back. Peter stood at the end of the dock, using one hand to yank a boot off, the other holding his wand, which was pointed at me. I shot him a grateful grin for the warming spell. “Keep her lighted.”
Peter nodded as he teetered on one foot, and I swam forward, pumping my limbs as fast as I could. I lifted my head now and then to make sure I was still headed in Daisy’s direction. As I neared the dog, a big splash sounded behind me. Peter, shirtless, churned through the water which, tall as he was, only reached his waist. He pointed the light of his wand on his dog.
Daisy’s wet fur shone in the bluish light, and I noticed, with gratitude, that her side rose and fell with her breath. I reached her and slid one arm under her head, the other over her middle, and hugged the huge mutt to me, righting her.
I whined. Days? You okay?
She looked up at me, then closed her eyes tight, scrunched up her nose as if she were in pain, and sneezed—wet and loud—right in my face.
All my concern drained, and I shot her a flat look. Seriously?
She sneezed again and again. Then shook her head, wet ears flapping. She let out a pitiful whine. That witch hit me. I couldn’t move. Her back legs twitched and then she scrambled toward me, her nails scratching my bare belly and arms.
“Ow! Hey!”
She threw her giant paws over my shoulders and I hugged her around her middle, now face-to-face with the dog, like we were slow dancing. I huffed and growled. Stop thrashing! You’re scratching me up!
She cocked her head to the side as her big, dark eyes blinked at my face. She groaned. You look like a wet rat.
“Okay.” I released her, and she splashed back into the water, front legs pumping as she swam in a little circle. I called over my shoulder back to Peter. “Yeah, she’s fine.”
Daisy barked and barked. Ooh! That witch! I want to bite her face off.
I barked back. You and me both, Days. I chugged through the water toward the gray outline of thatched buildings up ahead—the human mainland. I called back to Peter. “Cover us!”
“You got it!” Spells flew overhead, and the shaky light from Peter’s wand found Pearl again.
My socked feet scrambled over the loose pebbles and sharp grasses on the ground, the water low enough now to make walking faster than swimming. Daisy soon outdistanced me, but she zigged and zagged to avoid Pearl’s spells. Meanwhile, Peter kept firing on the woman from behind us. Between trying to fend off Peter and Daisy, Pearl slowed, and I soon caught up with her.
I dipped my head under the surface of the water, pushed off the bottom, and held my breath as I zipped toward Pearl. The flashes of the spells lit the water enough for me to spot her legs. Daisy’s paws kicked up sand and silt as she circled the witch, and once Pearl turned away from me, I wrapped my arms around her legs and pulled her under.
31
Caught
Inspector Bon glared at Pearl with his beady little eyes. “Thought you were going to get away with it, didn’t you?”
She stood, dripping wet and shivering, with a brown wool blanket draped around her shoulders. A pool of water gathered under her bare feet on the docks, and a pair of magical, glowing handcuffs bound her wrists in front of her. She glared at him, black smears of mascara staining her cheeks. “It was a good plan.”
Bon scoffed. “It would’ve been! If you hadn’t gotten greedy and killed your sister.”
She scowled and bared her teeth. “I was just being smart.”
I curled my lip. Not a word I’d ever use to describe that woman, but okay.
“My sister was always jealous of me. I had to look out for numero uno! It was just a matter of time before she did the same to me—I just acted first!”
Wow. Almost made me glad I didn’t have any siblings. Of course, I’d grown up with a couple dozen other kids in the orphanage, so they sort of counted. And say what you would about a bunch of shifter kids from the Darkmoon District, but none of them had ever tried to kill me.
Peter and I stood nearby, similar police blankets wrapped around our shoulders. Luckily, he continued to cast the warming spell on us, so despite being half naked, wet, and shoeless, I felt pretty comfortable.
Chief McCray strolled up and handed us each a steaming cup of coffee. “Least I could do for you two.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a bone-shaped dog treat. Daisy, who sat with her damp fur sticking up at all angles beside Peter, pricked her ears.
“And who’s a good girl, hm? Yes. Good girl!” She held out the treat, and Daisy’s black nose twitched as she sniffed it. She delicately took it in her front teeth, rose, and trotted down the dock with it to eat in private.
I rolled my eyes and glanced after her, whining quietly. Since when do you need privacy? The world is your toilet—you’re practically an exhibitionist.
She glanced back and glared at me, growling around the treat. Says the woman in her underwear.
I clicked my tongue. She had me there.
Bon jerked his head. “Get her out of here.”
Two cops escorted the drenched Pearl away, and Chief McCray winked at us. “Nice work, you two. Well, three with Daisy.” She clapped Peter hard on the shoulder. “Keep it up, Flint.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You doing something different with that?” She stroked her own chin.
Peter’s cheeks reddened under his scruff.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess some women find that attractive.” She shrugged and strutted over to Bon, leaving Peter and me alone, a little aside from the other officers who bustled about the dock and examined the contents of the sack Pearl had been dragging behind her. A lady officer drew out a handful of gleaming gold merkles. Guess they found the missing life insurance payout.
I hugged the blanket tight around me, water trickling down my back and pooling under my bare feet. We stood in silence for a few moments, watching Daisy chomp on her treat, a gray dawn gradually lightening around us. With the tide out, only puddles of water remained in the marshy stretch of land between the human village and Bijou Mer.
I took a sip of the still too hot coffee and burned my tongue. Peter glanced over. Without a word, the tip
of his wand emerged from his blanket, and a chilly breeze blew over the top of my coffee.
He looked back ahead. “Should be cool enough to drink now.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Thanks.”
He kept his eyes on the distant land ahead of us. “You should have told me, you know.” His throat bobbed. “You lied to me. That’s what I’m most upset about.”
I glanced back and found all the cops busy and out of earshot. I faced forward with him and sighed. “Did I lie?” I shrugged, and he shot me a surprised look. “I just mean—I’m cursed. I haven’t been able to shift in years. Sometimes I wonder if I still am one.”
He shook his head. “If it didn’t matter, why’d you keep it from me?”
I scoffed. “I think you know exactly why. Most people hate shifters.”
He sighed through his nose. “I want to trust you, but how can I? Why didn’t you tell me when you told me about your curse? You trickled the truth in. Now I can’t help but wonder what else you’re keeping from me.”
My stomach tightened as I thought of Ludolf and the secret shifter underground. He was right, really. Even if I couldn’t shift anymore, I was still part of the shifter community, whether I liked it or not.
And that came with certain rules and expectations—though I’d broken shifter code to help solve the last case we’d worked together. But I couldn’t tell Peter about the underground community without endangering him, and without knowing about Ludolf, he had no idea what I’d risked to be honest with him and solve that case.
I shrugged. “You know—you didn’t care when I told you I’d been cursed and lost my powers. I’d been ‘lying’ to you about that.” I glanced up at him. “And we’re still getting to know each other—I told you as soon as I felt comfortable enough to.”
I lowered my voice. “It’s not like that’s easy stuff to talk about. You, Heidi, and Will are the only ones who know.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “You might not want to admit it, but you’re more upset about me being a shifter because, like most people, you’re at least a little prejudiced toward us.”
He shook his head and shifted on his feet. “How can I not be? Every single shifter I’ve ever met covers for the others.” He raised his brows at me. “How can I trust you enough to bring you in on cases when you might do the same?”
Anger flared in my chest, but I willed myself to breathe. I really didn’t want to fight with him just then. “Have you ever asked why?” I flashed my eyes at him. “Do you have any idea what it’s like being a shifter?”
His nostrils flared. “I had a tough time growing up too, but you don’t see me asking for special treatment.”
I clenched my hands into fists and grew very still. “It’s totally different, Peter. Hatred against shifters is systemic! Even when you don’t want to get embroiled with—” I stopped myself. I didn’t want to say too much, and I could feel my heart beating fast and hard in my chest.
Peter narrowed his eyes. “Embroiled? With who, or what?”
I looked away. “I’m sorry. I can’t—for your own sake.”
He scoffed. “Oh, that’s some sea salt.”
I spun to face him, chin jutted out. “When a system of justice, your system, abandons a whole group of people, something else moves in to fill that space.”
He turned to face me, eyes blazing. “What does?”
I gritted my teeth and he shook his head. “What does that mean?” He threw a hand at me. “See? This is what I’m talking about. Shifter code, or whatever. You all say you ‘can’t’ give each other up, but if you want it to be different, how do you expect that to happen when you toe the line?”
I opened my mouth but thought of my last encounter with Ludolf. He’d used one of his lion shifters to threaten me. He’d threatened to hurt Peter. He had no idea what he, or I, was up against. I pressed my lips tight together and shook my head.
Peter huffed. “I want to help, Jolene, I really do. But every time I think you’ve let me in, I realize we’re further apart than I knew. I don’t know how to trust you.”
My stomach sank and churned, grief mixing with anger and hurt. I swallowed against the tight lump in my throat. “I don’t know what to say.”
He nodded. “Well… I’m here if you ever figure that out.”
I stalked off, dressed, and dragged myself back up a few tiers to the Darkmoon District. Day businesses had their open signs out, and human tourists mingled with magical folk. I ignored their stares and dragged my wet, aching body home. I wasn’t usually up this late and longed to throw myself in bed.
When I got to my door, I found Ludolf’s summons, an askew t, magically carved into the metal. Which meant I had to get myself down to the sewers and his secret headquarters—now. I groaned and thunked my head against the door.
32
Hexmakers
Since I had a throbbing head (probably from being awake for the last twenty hours), I decided to share and give Neo a headache, too. He and his two hench goons, Viktor and Sacha, escorted me through the stone underground tunnels to Ludolf’s lair.
“So what’s the deal with the sewers?” I curled my lip at the slimy round walls and the cockroaches that scuttled at the edges of the black water under our feet. “Is Ludolf a rat shifter or something?”
Viktor, who skipped ahead, giggled maniacally, the torchlight illuminating the tattoos that wound around both arms and up his neck and throat.
Neo, his black hair slicked back, turned around and glared at me. “No. He’s not a rat shifter.”
Behind me, Sacha, an enormous bald brute of a man, grunted. “Huh. He’s not?”
I glanced back at him, then raised my brows at Neo. “Is he an alligator then? Come on. Just tell me, or I’ll have to keep pestering you until you do.”
Neo rolled his dark eyes. “It’s not for us to speculate about.”
“Oh, yeah.” It was my turn to roll my eyes, though they ached. “I forgot how much of a kiss ass you are.”
He spun around and scowled. “Show some respect. He’s head of the shifters.”
I crossed my arms and huffed. “Not my king.”
A steady drip sounded from somewhere, echoing off the round walls between the splashes of our footsteps.
Neo half-turned. “No one knows, okay?”
I frowned. “What?”
“No one’s ever seen Ludolf Caterwaul shift.” Sacha’s low, slow voice sounded behind me, and I turned and raised my brows at him.
“Seriously?”
He nodded, his bald head slightly stooped in the low tunnel.
I turned around and shrugged. “I thought that was just a rumor.”
Neo shook his head. “He’s very private.”
Weird, in my book. As someone who’d lost her ability to shift, I’d hardly hide being an owl, especially when living in an underground full of other shifters you didn’t have to hide your true nature from.
Even during my heyday of hiding my identity to further my career as a lawyer, I’d spent a few nights a week winging over the island in my owl form. I’d needed that freedom of the wind rustling my feathers, wings stretched, to be able to tolerate the stilettos and stuffy offices.
I’d been down here a few times now, so when we made a left where we usually would’ve gone right, I frowned. “Where are we going?”
Neo’s shoulders tensed. “Hex makers’ lair.”
I stopped for a moment, before continuing on. Had Ludolf actually found a cure for me? He’d told me he’d put his hex makers to work to find one.
A mix of excitement and dread churned in my stomach. After breaking shifter code and turning in not only one of our own to the police, but one of Ludolf’s illegal money lenders, I had no idea how I stood with the shifter mob boss.
We followed the sewers through many twists and turns, the tunnels growing narrower, darker and more crumbled. I guessed we were moving in an older, less visited part of the underground system.
Finally, a reddish light glowed up ahead
, bouncing off the rough stone walls. I ducked and followed Viktor and Neo through a half-collapsed doorway into a large, round room. Shelves lined the walls, some made of rocks and stones that jutted out, others formed from alcoves and holes in the walls. Glass vials, bottles, and jars of glowing potions of all colors littered every available space.
A few stone tables sat in the middle of the room, similarly covered in bottles, beakers, and small cauldrons. A walk-in fireplace against the right-hand wall housed a roaring fire that warmed the space and cast a reddish glow over everything. Above the fire, a huge black cauldron of glowing green liquid bubbled.
An old woman, hunched, with stringy hair falling into her face, stirred a wooden paddle around and around. Two other women who looked like her clones worked at the tables in the center. One mashed with a mortar and pestle and the other used a black knife to slice open the entrails of some small dead creature.
I cringed and looked away.
“Glad you could join us. We’ve been waiting for some time.”
Ludolf’s quiet, raspy voice startled me. I looked around the room until I found him, perched on a wooden stool in a shadowy corner. He drummed his talon-like nails on the stone wall. Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap.
A chill ran down my spine, but I threw my shoulders back, determined not to show this man my fear. I shrugged. “Came as quickly as I could.” I gestured around the room. “I mean, who would want to miss this?”
Neo flashed his eyes at me.
He was right. I probably should show some respect—it was just hard when I had none. Ludolf exploited the vulnerable state of shifters in general for his own gain. When Will’s anger had caused him to publicly shift and lose everything, he’d come to Ludolf, desperate for help. Ludolf had set him up in his current clinic in exchange for patching up his goons when they got into scrapes. And Will still had to pay Ludolf such a steep “protection” fee to basically keep Neo and the boys from vandalizing his business and threatening his life that he could barely afford to eat. I glared at the bony, creepy man. He was just a more intelligent, cunning version of Pearl and Ralph Litt—a scam artist.