“I saw Amanda in there, up on one of the beds. I don’t remember seeing her at the house. Was she collected elsewhere?”
Veruca didn’t answer, though Finn guessed from her expression it wasn’t because she didn’t like him asking questions, but more that she wasn’t actually sure what to say. Hunching down, he chewed on his lip, his gaze dropping to the cup holders between their seats. Silence filled the car as time passed, and after a few minutes, Finn decided he might give her a question she could answer.
“What about the fairy? The big guy, does he know I’m innocent? Do I still have to worry about him?”
“Not yet, but that’ll be next on my list.”
“What’s first on your list?”
“Getting answers to your questions.”
“Like where babies come from?” Finn asked, trying to lighten the mood. “You keep promising to show me, and then you just take your top off.”
She threw him a smile, but it wasn’t entirely genuine.
****
“I don’t want to call her,” Rebecca said, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “I hate her.”
“I’m not asking you to work with her,” Veruca explained, frustrated. “I just need someone to get her attention.”
“Didn’t you just have it?”
“Her contract with me is up. Things between us didn’t end well. On top of that, she’s done something that I’m sure she’s aware I wouldn’t approve of. If I call her again so soon, she’ll know it isn’t just to offer a heartfelt thanks and invite her out for a drink.”
“Did you piss her off?” Rebecca asked, eager curiosity leaking through her stubborn exterior.
“She didn’t go quietly, that much we can say,” Finn said, jumping in before Veruca could explain. She rolled her gaze to him but didn’t ask him to quiet down or let her handle the witch. Finn was good with people, especially straight, female people. With any luck, he’d get Rebecca on their side with less effort. “We exchanged words, Donald had to toss her out. She got him in the face at one point. It got messy. Blood everywhere.”
He wasn’t exactly lying, Veruca noted. Even if Rebecca had the right kind of juice and could slightly read lies or minds—which Veruca could see she didn’t, but Finn didn’t know that—she would have been fooled. It wouldn’t have fooled a true empath or mind reader, someone who could see straight through your brain or read emotions like a book, but someone as mildly affected by fae blood as Rebecca would probably be swindled.
And lo and behold, Veruca thought.
“Well, I do like to hear Kincade’s not happy, no matter the reason. I can’t call her myself, she’d be suspicious, but I know someone who could give her a ring and set up a meeting. What time is good for you?”
“Sooner is better. Just call or text me when it’s set up, and I’ll be there with bells on.”
“She might hear you coming that way,” Rebecca said, taking the offered business card. “I’d stick to soft-soled shoes, no corduroys either.” She looked to Finn again, trying to be at least vaguely discreet in her ogling.
“We much appreciate that,” Finn said, winking and turning up the wattage on his smile just a bit. Without looking away from him, Rebecca addressed Veruca.
“No wonder you wanted him back.”
Once they were out belted into the car again, Veruca pulled away from the curb, reached over, and patted his leg.
“You’re very handy to have around.”
“You could’ve gotten what you wanted without me.”
“Sure, but it might have taken a little longer and cost me some money.”
“You should still tip her or something, buy her a bouquet of, eh, I dunno. Things that’ll look good in her shop. Baby’s breath, or—or something. Scarves,” Finn said, almost absently. “Wands! Or gemstones, crystals. A bouquet of incense might burn the place down, so stick to rocks.”
Veruca giggled at the image, squeezing his thigh, before turning her full attention back to driving. All that was in store for the two of them, at least for the immediate future, was waiting. Waiting on Rebecca to get back to them, waiting on the brownie to find the scouts and set up an appointment, waiting to hear from Donald regarding the memorial service she wanted to hold in honor of the bellboys.
She didn’t have to do nothing while waiting, though. Greenlake wasn’t that far from downtown, and traffic would hopefully be light enough that it wouldn’t take long to get there.
“We’ll go check on the hotel,” she said, as much to herself as to Finn.
“Ah, brilliant. It’ll be nice to see everyone. I offer my hugging services to cheer up the staff.”
“I’m not denigrating your hugging skills in any way, but we both know you just want to wrap your arms around half the kitchen staff and squeeze. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you eyeballing nearly everyone in there.”
“It’s purely on aesthetics, my love. Fowler’s a very attractive man.”
“He’s married, to a woman.”
“And I’m sure she appreciates the muscles he’s built up hand-whipping all that cream. Those glistening, taut muscles.”
“And he’s over twice your age.”
“Looks good for an older man, I must say.”
Veruca just snorted, letting him make her laugh. It wouldn’t help to show up to see grieving employees tense and angry. She’d be no help if she was too consumed by anger at Alex—Doris, Veruca corrected, no need to use one of her many false names anymore—to listen and offer soothing words.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The hotel wasn’t outwardly somber, Finn noted. No black ribbons tied to bannisters or giant, funeral wreaths lining the lobby with pictures of the deceased staff. He could see tension in the faces of those employees who’d survived, though, and would bet that even if they hadn’t known Diana’s victims too well, they still felt uneasy. He wondered what the story put forth to the very human staff had been to explain the zombies and carnage.
Veruca went straight to the desk, greeting Lucy with a soft smile.
“Oh, Ms. Lake, I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
“We didn’t realize either. How’re you? Doing okay?”
“I mean, I guess.” Lucy shrugged, relaxing her stance a bit. “I wasn’t here, so I only heard about everything. I still don’t understand how they got in, though. Donald said they attacked Fabi, but she doesn’t remember much, I guess. It’s just good you guys weren’t up there!”
“It is indeed,” Veruca said, though Finn got the impression she wasn’t entirely sure what Lucy was talking about. He hadn’t a clue either, but would go along with whatever the claim turned out to be. “Is Fabi okay?”
“Yeah, oh, yeah. Donald says she is. She’s not been to work, except to bring the girls by day care, but everyone says she’s not hurt. Just a few bruises, I think.”
“Oh, good. Well, if you guys need anything, or want extra security—”
“Donald’s already got it set up,” Lucy said, her smile indicating she thought the measure was a little silly. “I mean, lots of it. We had four extra guards here the last few nights. You can’t tell they’re guards, so we’re not getting questions, but they told us to watch out for them and make sure they can get keys.”
“Ah, that does sound like Donald. I’m gonna go find him, but my offer still stands. If you need anything else, just let Donald or Katia know.”
“Okay. I don’t think he’s in his office, but I can call him on the radio if you want.”
“Thanks, that’ll work. Have him meet me upstairs, would you?”
“I think the floor’s locked off, do you need the master?”
“I’ve got mine, don’t worry.”
Finn gave Lucy a little wave as Veruca hooked her arm in his and led him off. Lucy smiled back, matched his wave with one of her own, and went back to whatever she’d been doing on the computer when they’d walked up. Finn guessed Facebook but didn’t mention it to Veruca. She was pretty lax on social media at work, for a boss, but it p
robably still wasn’t strictly allowed.
The elevator wouldn’t bring them to the top floor without Veruca’s master card in the key slot, but once it was in, they sped upward as fast as always.
“Is it gonna be scary in there?” Finn asked as the car slowed and the doors dinged.
“The worst of it should be cleaned up, if not outright torn out. It was messy, but Donald has a good crew and excellent connections from before I scooped him up.”
“What did he do then?”
“Something akin to what Doris does, I believe, though with standards and ethics. Lots of fae spawn find their way into the grooves between the human world and Fairy, and profit from it. They have a stake in keeping things quiet and making sure people at large don’t find out what’s really been stuffed under the proverbial bed.”
“Shoe boxes stuffed with proverbial porn?”
“That would be your proverbial bed, not mine.”
“That’s only because you keep all your dirty movies on your proverbial computer.”
“I’m not sure you know the definition of proverbial, darling.”
“Haven’t a proverbial clue.”
Veruca rolled her eyes over a smile and unlocked the door to the penthouse, just like Finn had seen her do a dozen times before. Needless to say, the inside looked much different than usual. Up until the tragedy, the place had resembled a posh house with spectacular views of the city beyond. He wasn’t sure if Veruca had decorated it personally, but the look clearly meant to evoke thoughts of wealth and privilege. Finn hadn’t dared asked the usual cost of staying in the fancy two-bedroom, two-bath suite, but if it was less than half a grand a night, he would have eaten his own money clip.
Since the carnage, though, it had been gutted down to bare wood. The ceiling looked freshly painted, the plush furniture was missing—ah, not missing, Finn thought, noticing the edge of the couch poking out from the door to what he thought of as his room, even though he and Veruca shared the suite across the living space. Wallpaper had been stripped, edges were taped in blue, and a tidy cart of cleaning supplies had been pushed up against the wall of windows that helped the rich feel of the place.
“Not sure what our supposed robbers would have been here to steal, but it was a decent story,” Veruca said after a moment. Finn turned to answer her, but Donald did so first, startling Finn into a yelp and a jump.
“Doesn’t matter, everyone believed it,” Donald said as Finn’s heart exploded with surprise. “You’re wealthy, and since everyone gets a free night up here after their ninety days, they all think of the room as being made of money. Lucy said you two caught up, but I’m sure you have questions you couldn’t ask her.”
“How’s Fabi? Was she the only one hurt? Aside from the obvious?”
“Yeah, we lost four in total, but Fabi was lucky. She had a concussion, a pretty bad one, but I got Constance out to her pretty quickly. Far as she knows, she got lucky and came out of it scot-free. She comes back to work Monday, and housekeeping will have a little welcome-back lunch for her.”
“Good, good. What happened exactly? I remember a sea of busboy uniforms and then my mind sort of loses track of anything that went on outside of the bullet in my shoulder.”
“Well, I’m working off accounts from witnesses and security footage, and they got to some areas where we didn’t have either. Fabi was attacked out back on her break. They got her key and moved through the place—”
“They?” Veruca interrupted. Finn looked between them, wishing he didn’t have to hear the account of how people he’d gotten to know fairly well had been hurt and killed. It wasn’t just the violent way it had gone down that he didn’t like, but that any of it had happened in the first place. Especially since it probably would have been just fine if he hadn’t been around at all. He slumped to the floor as Donald answered, and Veruca stepped close to absently pet his hair.
“Diana had some zombies premade, three men. The descriptions say they were some of the bodies we collected from the house, though not any of the ones we had brought to your mortuary. There’s no connection to them as far as the police are concerned, since they didn’t do anything of their own volition.”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
“The insurance will pay out, the cops will chase ghosts, nothing to worry about. I know who to talk to in these sorts of situations.”
“Good. What about the boys?”
“From what we can piece together, Diana’s zombies got to the break room first, though we can’t be sure if that’s where they were headed on purpose or if she just got lucky. They killed the boys, Diana raised them, and—”
“How? Was she inside with them?”
“Wouldn’t have to be,” Finn piped up, thinking of what she’d had tucked up her sleeve. “Long as she’d sent in some extra pins, she could have raised them from down the block.”
“Pins?” Donald asked, looking like something had occurred to him. “That explains a few things. We found safety pins on each of the bellhops, jabbed in and out and clasped shut. Straight through their throats, though the placement was different.”
“She had a ton,” Finn explained, feeling his pout deepen. “She jabbed one into me when she was gonna teach me how to raise.”
“You know how to raise,” Veruca said, quirking her lip a little. “More or less.”
Finn stuck his tongue out at her, but it was through a smile. “She was better. Kept saying I could, ‘keep them in,’ but we didn’t get to that part of the lesson.”
“Their souls?” Veruca asked, making Finn frown. When he didn’t answer, she grasped a bit of his hair and gave his head a light shake. “Did she mean their souls? Keep them in, raise them … before they were dead?”
Finn shook his head hard, the idea horrifying him almost more than the suggestions of necrophilia that had popped up since the whole ordeal had started.
“No, they were dead. Just … scared. She tried to kill a guard to show me how. Though I guess she was pretty comfortable with killing, so she may have just done that for fun.”
“No,” Veruca said, her gaze drifting as she considered. “I’ll bet she did kill them and found a way to slip the soul back in after death. I can’t imagine why or what it would get her, though. I imagine the zombie would just fight her then, make control harder.”
The laughter of the pixie Finn had raised echoed through his head as if they were still connected, and he gasped.
“Holy shit,” he mumbled, disgusted with himself. “I did that!”
“Made her control harder?” Donald asked and leaned slightly forward as if he was so intrigued he might lose his balance.
“Ehm, maybe. I … she did seem a little distracted, but I meant the soul thing. When I was fighting—well, when I was tossed unknowingly into the ring with a damned lamia—they gave me a pixie, and a yeti, and a werewolf. The latter two were fine, easy to raise, you know, did their usual thing.” Finn lifted his hands, hooked his fingers, and let out a half-hearted roar. “You know, that sorta violence-first sorta stuff. But the pixie didn’t want to cooperate. She was totally dead, mind you, just … sort of … not pleased with what I was trying to do.”
“It makes sense, Veruca said. “The soul hangs around a body for a bit after death. Not inside, not even right exactly where it lay, but nearby. Sometimes a few feet off, other times in entirely difference sections of a house. If you got to the body before the soul felt it was done with it, it might be able to hitch a ride back in. Souls don’t have sticking power on their own, not once the body doesn’t need it anymore, but a necromancer soul is all sticky,”—Finn let out a childish giggle but was ignored—“so it makes sense that it would tie onto any other power around, especially a power so like its own.”
“So Diana just … stuck to a soul and shoved it back into a body?” Donald asked. “That’s … the implications of that are awful.”
“But genius in its own way,” Veruca said. Finn caught Donald’s expression and turned to
give Veruca an equally cynical look. “No, I’m not saying it’s acceptable to force someone to be stuck in their own dead body while you control it, but the soul is the source of power. If she could control a body that had been born to use a certain type of power, she could probably harness that power. It’s a good thing she didn’t really have the brains to utilize this skill more than she already did.”
“She healed me,” Finn said, feeling like missing pieces were being dug out of the couch in his mind so he could finally put the whole puzzle together. “And the pixie! I used her glamour! She had some say in it, though.”
“Pixies are more powerful than fae spawn. You’d need an iron will and a lot of training to overcome their power. Or you’d have to be able to pull just enough soul to use the glamour, but not enough that the pixie’s entire consciousness comes with it. I’m not sure a necromancer could pick and choose, though. You’re built to control and read a corpse, not a soul.”
“Whatever’s been done, it’s left a mess,” Donald said. He’d leaned back and crossed his arms once the idea of undead slavery had cropped up. Finn wondered if his heritage had anything to do with it but reasoned that it was likely just because Donald was a genuinely good man who didn’t approve of the abuse or extortion of innocents.
“Agreed. Do you need anything from me?”
“It’s all been handled,” Donald assured her, relaxing a bit. “The penthouse won’t be done for a bit, but we had the rest of your things sent to the address you gave.”
“That’s all you need to do. Hopefully we’ll have this wrapped up before it’s done and we can go home anyway. Was there anything else to tell, or were we at the part of the story Finn and I saw firsthand?”
“Pretty much,” Donald said. “She raised them and sent them up here to shoot you and kidnap Finn.”
“Yeah, that part we knew.” Veruca sighed, looking around the room once more, clearly unhappy with how things had turned out. “We should go, but I appreciate the rundown.”
“Where else are you headed? Off to cremate Diana and toss her remains into a volcano?”
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