Ashes and Arsenic

by SM Reine

  “We had that statue in our custody for weeks before Killick needed it,” I said. “Big damn coincidence.”

  “Not really,” Fritz said. “We never caught the amateur archaeologists who unearthed it. It must have been Killick. If I’d known it would become this much trouble, I wouldn’t have shuffled that case to the bottom of the to-do list, but I didn’t have time to focus on it with the summit.”

  Agent Bryce climbed onto the scaffold with us. “We have the results of the soil analysis, sir,” she said by way of greeting.

  I held my hand out. “Thanks.”

  She gave me an apologetic smile and handed the analysis to Fritz.

  “Hoping to keep my job, Cèsar?” he asked, skimming the page.

  I tried to shrug it off. I also tried to pretend my face didn’t get all hot. Suzy may have been right to tease me for my attitude, but I would never, ever admit that aloud.

  “Just got into the habit of being the one everyone calls sir.”

  “Then tell me what you think of this, sir.” Fritz passed the page to me.

  I gave it a quick read. “How is this possible? If the organic matter in the soil underneath the theater is over six thousand years old…who buried it? Demons?” And why the hell had I thought that the key had been the work of the Mejía family? We hadn’t been around for six thousand years, that was for certain.

  “No, I don’t think it was demons.” Fritz actually looked disturbed. Genuinely disturbed. “I need to make some phone calls.”

  He headed outside with his Blackberry, brushing past Aisha as she entered. Fritz turned to watch her walk away from him. Apparently we had very similar taste in women.

  Fritz lifted his eyebrows at me when he realized that Aisha was headed my way, radiating silent approval.

  Aisha had a temporary OPA security badge clipped to her belt. She was almost dressed like a normal human being in jean shorts and a tunic long enough to hide her gun—no leather in sight. I could see the bulge at the small of her back when she edged through the doorway.

  I was glad to see her. Pretty weird, considering she’d bludgeoned me once. All the life-saving made up for that.

  “How’s it going?” I asked. “Feeling good that your case is done?”

  “Pretty damn good, yeah.” Aisha peered over the railing at the crater. “I’m not sure this artifact is in better hands, though.”

  “Going to infiltrate the OPA next? Spend a few years stalking us from the inside?”

  She barked a laugh. “No way, hell no, and also fuck no. I’m getting back to Driver. I’m sick of being sick.” She glanced at Fritz’s back. He was making his call on the sidewalk outside. “How about you? Feeling good to be back with your kopis?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “Well, keep an eye on the OPA for me. Will you? Make sure that thing doesn’t see the light of day after this.” She jerked a thumb at the statue.

  She didn’t have to ask me. I’d already been planning on the same thing.

  The Mejía artifact—if it was a Mejía artifact—was too dangerous for anyone to have.

  “You were right about Domingo,” I said. “Look, I’m…I’m sorry. For everything. He’s not going to do any of that again. I’m going to make sure of that.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She sighed. “My brother shouldn’t have been tangled in these covens anyway. There’s bad blood among the witches around here. They’re trouble, all of them.” The corner of Aisha’s mouth twitched as she studied me. “Well, most of them.”

  I leaned an elbow on the railing, giving her a once-over. The shorts were better than leather pants. “How long you got before you leave town? Because, you know, if you’d want to grab coffee…”

  Aisha laughed again. “No.”

  Well, at least she wasn’t dancing around the refusal. Left no room for doubt. Also, it left no room for my sense of pride. “Is it because I work for the OPA?” I asked. “Or because I’m brothers with Domingo?”

  She patted me on the cheek. “It’s because of your Y chromosome.”

  “So you’re—oh. Yeah. Okay.” She didn’t look like a lesbian. She was way too pretty. “Are you sure you don’t want to give it a shot? Maybe I’d be the guy to change your mind.”

  “A tool like you? I don’t think so.”

  Ouch.

  “You’re an angry person, Aisha,” I said. “You should try being less angry sometimes. Chill out. Take it easy.”

  “I’ll take it under advisement.” Aisha glanced at her watch. “Listen, I have to get going. It’s a long way back to Canada.” She hesitated, then plunged on. “You’re welcome to come work with us. Driver’s got a good team, and I think you’d be an asset.”

  “I thought my Y chromosome was a problem,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes. “Just think about it. Working for the OPA is dangerous. There are alternatives.”

  The idea of working with a rogue demon hunter rubbed me the wrong way. Kopides who operated outside of the OPA’s law were dangerous. They were responsible for more innocent deaths than demons sometimes.

  But was it really worse than working for a company that might decide to kill me at any moment?

  “I’ll think about it,” I said.

  She handed me a business card. It said “DRIVER” in the middle with a tiny phone number underneath.

  “Give us a call,” Aisha said.

  The flames within the containment circle suddenly cut off. I leaned over the railing to look into the crater, but the statue had melted into the earth so deep that I couldn’t see the bottom. We already had guys pulling on harnesses so they could be dropped into it via pulley.

  “Want to stick around for a few minutes and see what comes out of there?” I asked, turning back.

  Aisha was already gone.

  Damn. She was quiet.

  Fritz rejoined me on the scaffolding, beckoning to Suzy at the bottom of the crater. “Send it up here. I want Cèsar to take a look.”

  She gave him a thumbs-up in agreement.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  Fritz slid sunglasses on. “Meeting with upper management. They want a review of the case.” He shot me a look over the rims. “Would you rather go? This was your hard work.”

  Upper management probably included Vice President Lucrezia de Angelis, who was another name on the “list of hot women who have tried to kill me.” It was a surprisingly long list. And a pretty good reminder about why I didn’t want a promotion anytime soon.

  “You have fun with that. I’ll send you pictures of whatever we’ve dug up.”

  “Don’t take any photos,” Fritz said in a low voice. “This won’t be going on the official record.” He pulled a box out of his jacket, like the kind that men’s neckties are sold in at Wal-Mart, and hesitated before handing it to me. It was heavier than lead. I was so surprised that I almost dropped it. “Be careful.”

  With that ominous warning, he left.

  Suzy had the artifact wrapped in a tarp before it was carried up to me. I directed the men to take it to the trunk of my SUV and then leave.

  I unwrapped the tarp as soon as everyone had gone back inside.

  The artifact was a box. Just a big stone box with two locks. It had been engraved with symbols much like the ones on the key. I weighed the gift Fritz had given me in my hand, and I knew what he wanted me to do.

  He’d returned the key to me so I could open the box, alone and off the record.

  I made sure that nobody was looking before taking the key out. It only worked on one of the locks, which clicked open as soon as the key contacted it. The other lock remained closed.

  Was I going to have to kill five people and perform a big, messy ritual to find a second key? That didn’t seem right at all.

  No, I was pretty sure I already had the second key.

  I pressed my hand against the side of the box hard enough that my hand bled.

  When my blood contacted the stone, we both glowed. Just fo
r a second. Same way that Domingo had when he’d touched that key.

  The second lock popped open.

  I startled at the quiet click it made, then laughed at myself. It wasn’t like I was opening the Ark of the Covenant. It was just some ancient box of indeterminate origin that an evil high priest wanted to obtain for ultimate power that happened to react with my family’s blood. No big deal.

  Wiping the rest of my blood off on my pants, I lifted the lid.

  There was a single piece of yellowing paper inside the box.

  “Hey, you opened it,” Suzy said, appearing at my back.

  I slipped the paper into my jacket before turning. “Hey, Suze. You’re looking better.”

  “Yeah, I’m up for almost killing myself with another word of power again. Can’t wait.” She pushed me aside to look at the box. “Empty?”

  “It must be some kind of joke,” I said.

  “Or else someone got here and emptied it first.” The look she was giving me, I almost thought that she knew I’d taken the paper.

  I shrugged. “Hard to say.” Stepping back, I slammed the door to the SUV shut.

  “I’ll take it to processing,” Suzy said.

  I grabbed the keys out of her hand. “I’ve got it. Mind supervising the site cleanup?”

  “That’s an order, isn’t it?” She snorted. “You’re going to have to tell me what’s going on later.”

  I forced a smile. “Yeah.”

  She walked away. My smile died.

  I got behind the wheel of the SUV, disabled the dashboard computer, disconnected the tracking devices, and drove away.

  Like Fritz said—that box wasn’t going on the record.

  I dumped the box at Fritz’s house before returning to the hospital. Then I sat in the parking garage to wait for Domingo.

  While I waited, I read the yellowed note.

  The paper didn’t look six thousand years old. Neither did the writing on the inside. It was in English—modern English, readable English—and had been scrawled in penmanship that wasn’t much better than mine.

  The note said, “Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve taken the book. I got impatient for genesis. The gang’s getting together, can’t wait to meet you.” And it was signed with initials: “N.F.”

  Someone else had opened the box, taken whatever book was inside, and replaced it with that note.

  How someone could have gotten to that box without burning down Los Angeles was beyond me. Sacrificing five people without anyone noticing—that was possible. But the fire couldn’t have been hidden easily.

  I suspected Domingo would know.

  It was five in the afternoon now. He should have already checked out and come to find me in the garage.

  Sticking the note in my jacket, I headed inside and took the elevator to Domingo’s ward.

  I stopped short in the door to his room.

  A nurse was making the bed.

  Everything that had belonged to Domingo, Pops, and me—including my tattered old copy of Neuromancer—was already gone. “Hey, where’d this patient go?” I asked, rapping my knuckles on the doorway.

  The nurse frowned. “Who are you?” She hadn’t seen me with Domingo. She didn’t know she could talk to me.

  “Hello, Mr. Hawke.” It was Dr. Rashida. She had been passing by, but stopped to talk with me.

  She looked sad, and I immediately knew.

  He’d checked himself out.

  Domingo was gone and he hadn’t said goodbye. Hadn’t wanted to face what he’d done, or what Pops and I would do about it.

  “Hey, Doc,” I said. “How long has he been gone?”

  “Over two hours. He asked me to give this to you before he left. I’m sorry.” Dr. Rashida walked away real quick before I could ask anything else.

  She had handed me an envelope. I peeled it open.

  A handful of hundred-dollar bills fell out, along with a photograph.

  It was similar to one of the ones I’d found on Domingo’s refrigerator—probably taken the same day at a different time. He was sitting somewhere sunny and warm with a woman at his side. Now that I’d seen Gina in person, I realized that it was her. Domingo was dating one of the witches from his coven.

  I rubbed my thumb over the money. It was covered in a fine, ashen powder. Rowan ash, to be exact.

  Bet if I ran the serial numbers, it would come up as having been stolen from the First Bank of the Sierras.

  Five million dollars.

  Domingo hadn’t been joking when he’d said that Killick had paid handsomely for his blood. He’d given my brother access to his ex-wife’s bank vault.

  That would go a long way to making a new life for Domingo and Gina somewhere else. Somewhere sunny and warm where covens didn’t go to war, where Domingo had never been a thug, where nobody would want his blood.

  Somewhere, I hoped, that the OPA would never be able to find him.

  I threw the money in the trashcan on my way out the door.

  ***

  Once Darkness Falls

  Preternatural Affairs Book 7

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