The Deadly Daiquiri

by Tegan Maher

  Mila stood at the counter inside, smiling.

  "Were you born in a barn?" she asked when I didn't move in straight away.

  I shook myself and returned her smile, stepping in and letting the door slap shut behind me—I was just being paranoid.

  Mila had a little faerie blood in her, and she got the genetics for perfect skin from them. Well, that and her products were the bomb. Her family was black Irish, so her porcelain skin was in stark contrast to her raven's-wing hair and brilliant, smiling blue eyes.

  She rushed out from behind the counter and scooped me into a hug. "Where on earth have you been, girl? I haven't seen you in a coon's age."

  I'd known Mila since we were kids, raised together like sisters in the hills of North Carolina. Her mama and mine had been best friends. She went home more than I did, so her accent was a little sharper, and it was good to hear a voice from home. How she'd ended up in Abaddon's Gate was a story for another time, but right at that moment, I was glad she was there.

  "I know, and I'm sorry," I said. "I hardly ever leave the resort."

  She pushed me back to arm's length and gave me a once-over. "Yeah, it must be such a cross to bear. That tan looks great on you, but lemme load you up on moisturizers and a couple products I have that'll let you tan but keep you from turning into a piece of leather before you're forty."

  I laughed. "See, what would I do without you?"

  "Turn into a raisin, that's what." She put her hand to her chin and puckered her lips. "Though if I just let nature take its course, I'll be the young-lookin' hottie at our reunions."

  That was a joke—she was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever met, inside and out, so she already held that spot. Of course, I wasn't a hag myself. I wasn't vain, but I also wasn't ashamed of my game. Still ...

  "Better load me up on the good stuff, then," I told her, still smiling. I reached into my bag. "I brought you something, too."

  She squealed. "Ooh, what?"

  I pulled out one of a set of shell necklaces I'd made. Each had a little conch pendant, and I'd imbued hers with the scent of sea air, then used a little sliver of my own magic to form a connection between the two so that when she touched it and thought of me, I'd know, and vice versa.

  She swiped a tear after she clasped it around her neck, then fanned her face with her hands. "You! Now look, my mascara's going to run."

  I reached into my pack and pulled out one of the two tubes of waterproof mascara I'd just bought, and she laughed, smacking me on the arm. "Shut up! What else do you have in there? A couple of princes, maybe?"

  "Pfft, toads, more like it." I told her about Blake.

  She chewed on her lip. "Do you think maybe it really was work? I mean, maybe she's a guest or a businessperson."

  When she saw my raised brow, she backpedaled, like any good friend does. "You're right. What a ho, and he's a jerk!"

  "Of course he's a jerk," Tempe sniffed as she strolled back into the front area of the shop with Calamity, her sister and Mila's familiar, "whether the girl's a ho or not. But she totally is."

  "Total skank," Calamity agreed. "Who are we talkin' about?"

  And that was why I loved all of them. We chatted for a while longer, and I left her shop laden down with goodies.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  WHEN WE STEPPED OUT, I looked up and down the street for the woman, but she was gone. I wasn't one to jump at shadows, but an angel connected—however unwillingly—to me was dead and I was in Abaddon's Gate. Both reasons to err on the side of caution.

  We made our way to ChocoLatte, and the smell of roasting coffee and melted chocolate was manna when we walked in. Charlie—yes, I recognize the unfortunate coincidence—greeted us, a cheerful smile beneath his beeswaxed handlebar mustache.

  Tempe had already climbed to my shoulder and was checking out the different confections. He made the best truffles I'd ever eaten, and I already knew what she wanted, so I ordered for us, adding on as she pointed out a goodie I'd missed or I saw something I thought Bob, his wife, or Elena might like. At the last minute, I thought of Colin and threw an extra pound of chocolate-covered bacon on my order.

  "Can you put that in a perma-cold bag, please? We're going to lunch, and I don't want them to melt." Another great thing about being magic.

  I glanced outside and was happy to see that Michael was at our favorite patio table at Angelo's when my phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen as I stepped out of the shop, holding the door open so a large family with strollers and diaper bags could get in.

  Speak of the devil, I thought, swiping to answer. "Hey brother," I said. "I just left ChocoLatte. I figured I'd wait here until you got to the restaurant, but I see you. I'll be there in five seconds."

  There was silence on the other end, and I checked to make sure I hadn't dropped the call.

  "You're in Abaddon's Gate?" he asked after a couple more seconds.

  "Yeah," I said. "You told me to meet you at Angelo's for brunch. You're sitting on the patio. I see you." A cold finger slid down my spine, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

  "No," he said, "I didn't. I just got your voicemail. I didn't get any texts from you, and I didn't send you any, and I'm not at Angelo's. Stop what you're doing and get back inside the chocolate shop right now. Don't leave until you hear from me."

  I thought back to the weird feeling I had when he'd texted earlier.

  "Wait, if that's not you, then who is it? Where are you?" I asked, but the line was already dead.

  Tempest had heard the conversation. "Turn around now, Des. I don't think we should be on the street." She had her tail wrapped around my neck and was gripping me so hard with her claws that I could feel the tips of them even through the backpack strap.

  Scrunching my forehead, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and pivoted back toward the shop. I swiveled my head back and forth, looking for anything suspicious. The thing was, everything there was a little shady. I caught a familiar flash of black out of the corner of my eye; the woman was striding across the street toward me, her arm out.

  I'm no magical wimp, but I'm not stupid, either. We were in the middle of Abaddon's Gate, and it wasn't a place where angry fairy tale princesses threw unicorn poop and glitter at you. Plus, it was a powder keg. If one magical brawl broke out on the streets, all hell would break loose. I reached for my magic, but I wasn't at full steam because I was landlocked.

  Still, I was no slouch and was pulling together a stunning spell—one I felt would cause the least disturbance—when somebody grabbed my arm from behind. Tempest growled and pivoted on my shoulder, and I let loose with the stunning spell toward the woman. My aim was dead on, and she fell forward onto the street.

  I felt a surge of satisfaction when she landed facedown on the asphalt. That was gonna leave a mark.

  The hold on my arm tightened and yanked, pulling me backward. "You need to come with me," he said, his voice gravelly.

  Tempe's tail brushed against my chin as she growled again and flung herself toward my attacker. For just a second, the hold on my arm loosened, and I jerked free. I'd never seen the man before.

  He used both hands to rip Tempest off his face and sling her to the ground, and rage tore through me when I heard her cry out. That was it.

  Tempe had bought me just enough time that magic crackled between my fingertips. I was about a second away from raining a heaping helping of wrath on him, and damn the consequences. Nobody hurt my fox. Or manhandled me, for that matter.

  Suddenly the man's face went slack, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he tilted forward, finally gaining momentum and landing with a satisfying crunch right on his face. Colin was standing behind him, holding an iron skillet he'd pulled off a nearby dwarf's cart.

  I froze, without a clue as to what to do next. He lowered the skillet and took a step toward me, glancing over my shoulder as he did so. I noticed the Michael impersonator was gone from Angelo's and wondered if that was the guy Colin had
just clocked. I wasn't willing to risk it.

  Tempe had recovered and was standing by my side, hackles up and growling.

  Do we trust him? I asked her.

  Do we have a choice? Besides, we know the guy he took out was a threat, so right now ... enemy of our enemy?

  Unless he's playing us.

  She heaved a huge sigh. I don't see where we have much choice, unless you want to take him down, too. The other two aren't gonna be out much longer. We need to move.

  A crowd had gathered, which was a bad thing in the Gate, and I stepped forward.

  Back on my shoulder, please. I don't want to risk getting separated.

  She hopped into my arms and resumed her position, and I pushed past Colin.

  "Wait," he said. "I have a place. Follow me."

  Making a judgment call, I did as he said. I didn't have a better idea, and I didn't know anybody other than Mila there, and I damned sure wasn't dragging them to her.

  We darted up an alley, Colin looking back at us every few steps, then broke out onto a busy street behind a flower cart. People were bustling around us as usual, going about their business. We slowed to a walk, blending in.

  "Wow," Colin said after a moment. "You stay busy on your days off."

  I scowled at him.

  "Too soon?"

  "You think? Who were those people?" Now that I wasn't in obvious mortal danger, I was getting pissed.

  "I don't know who that man was," he said, "but the woman may have been on your side. She was an angel's assistant."

  "Say what?" I asked, unable to believe the mess the day had turned to.

  "An angel's assistant. I'm not sure which one's, though."

  "How do you even know that much? And why were you following me?" I asked, drawing my brows together.

  He waved me off. "It doesn't matter how I know about the assistant. I was following you because I might have caught a peek at the text from your brother last night and didn't want you traipsing around the Gate by yourself." He ran his hand through his hair, rumpling it. "You weren't ever supposed to see me."

  "Well," I said, realizing that no matter what, at least I wasn't dead or locked away somewhere, "you kinda failed at that part, but I can't complain, in the scheme of things."

  "Speaking of your brother, where was he?"

  Oh, crap. Michael. If he was already at ChocoLatte, he'd be freaking out. "It was a setup," I said, pulling my phone from my back pocket and hitting my brother's number.

  He answered on the first ring. "Where are you?" he demanded.

  "I'm safe," I said. "I'm a couple streets over, in front of"—I looked around for a landmark—"the Cracked Cauldron."

  "Go in there. Go to the bar and tell the bartender you're my sister. I'll be there in five minutes."

  "Okay, well I'm with somebody, so you—" I was going to tell him he didn't have to worry so much, but he interrupted me.

  "You brought one of your beach friends to Abaddon's Gate?" He sounded irritated. "Fine. Take her with you. Just don't leave the place until I get there." Then he hung up.

  Colin lifted a brow when I stared down at my blank phone. "Well, it looks like we're going to the Cracked Cauldron, then."

  I took a deep breath and released it. "Indeed it does."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE CRACKED CAULDRON was dark, but I was surprised at the appearance once my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. A long, polished wood bar with a brass foot railing ran along one side, and booths lined the other. Tables sat in between, and in the back, there was a stage and dance floor. It looked just like any other dive bar I'd ever been in.

  Rather than stop at the first stools, Colin chose ones at the far end and sat between me and the door. Considering I still wasn't sure of his motives, I didn't know whether that was a good thing or not, but he hadn't given me a reason to doubt him yet.

  The bartender was a large, biker-looking dude with a full beard and a ready smile. "Welcome to the Cracked Cauldron. Name's Shane," he said as he slid two coasters in front of us.

  "I'm Destiny," I said, then added, "My brother's Michael Maganti, and he'll be here in a minute." Michael had said to name-drop, so he must trust the place. Plus, if Colin turned out to be on team let's kill Destiny, the man looked like a good person to have on my side.

  "So what's your poison, Destiny Maganti?" Shane asked.

  I cringed a little at the unfortunate word choice, but it wasn't like he could have known. Or maybe he did; I'd learned never to take anything at face value in the Gate.

  Figuring it wasn't exactly a lime-water kind of place, I decided to order something a little stronger. "What's on tap?"

  He grinned. "Glad you asked. Our house tap is Summer Souls, a golden ale. Made in-house and has a mild hoppy flavor with a slightly fruity finish."

  I raised a brow, surprised. "That's right up my alley, then. I'll do a pint."

  Colin raised two fingers, indicating he'd take one, too. "And a menu, please."

  The man turned and lumbered toward the beer taps, and I wondered what type of creature he was. Not human, because it was Abaddon's Gate, but I couldn't peg him, which meant he was probably a shifter.

  Colin leaned toward me and confirmed my suspicions. "Bear shifter."

  He returned with our beers, sliding a third in front of the empty seat beside me with a huge wink. "Yer brother'll be wantin' that when he gets here. No need to make him wait."

  Sure enough, Michael pushed through the door a few seconds later, stepping immediately to the side so that his back was against the wall rather than the door. I felt a little bad that he did it without forethought, because that meant he was used to having his own back and to being in situations where he needed to.

  He strode down the bar toward us, giving Colin the once-over, then said hello to me. "When you said you were with a friend, I thought you meant a girl."

  "If you'd bothered to listen for five more seconds rather than cut me off and then hang up on me, you would have known. Colin Moore, this is my brother, Michael Maganti."

  Rather than shake, they continued to take each other's measure.

  "Oh for hell's sake. Both of you stand down. My beer's getting warm, but I don't want to turn my back in case the playground showdown turns to a shoving match. Michael, Colin saved my hide back there."

  I glanced at the smug look that slid over the werewolf's features and added, "Though that doesn't mean I trust him. He's not given me a reason not to, though."

  Michael gave a curt nod and slid onto the stool beside me, then downed a quarter of his beer in one drink. "Tell me what's going on," he said. "And try not to leave anything out."

  Starting at the beginning, the day Cass was killed, I brought him up to speed.

  He glanced at Colin. "Anything to add?"

  "Yeah. The woman she knocked out in front of the chocolate shop was an angel's assistant."

  Michael's jaw flexed, and he took another drink of his beer. "Why would an angel's assistant be after her?"

  Colin shook his head. "I have no idea, except I know she's a suspect in Cassiel's murder."

  My brother whipped his gaze to me. "Why are you a suspect?"

  I shrugged. "As usual, he was being a dick and said he wished he could fire me. I told him I wished he'd drop dead. And a few minutes after I took him and his friends and hookers their drinks, he did."

  Michael rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Destiny. Have you ever had a thought that didn't fall right from your brain to your mouth?"

  "That's not fair," I said, scowling. "You know as well as I do, Cass hated me. And yes I have. I'm keeping quite a few of them trapped up there right now, for the good of advancing this conversation."

  Tempe poked her head out of my lap, her fluffy little eyebrows drawn down. "I'm not. You're being a jerk. We were almost killed, or kidnapped, or something, and you need to be nice. Shame on you." She peered down at the floor. "And where's Rocky?"

  Michael pointed his finger at her. "You're no better than she
is. I thought as her familiar, you're supposed to be the voice of wisdom. Rocky's outside keeping guard."

  Tempest narrowed her eyes at him. "I do my job, and I have her back. You realize if she's found guilty, she gets the death sentence, right? I figured if it took a trip to the Gate to get information, then it was worth the risk."

  Michael sighed and slumped in his chair, the attitude draining from him. "I know, and I'm sorry. I should have been available."

  "To her credit," Colin said, trying to put a positive spin on the situation, "there were several people who could have killed him besides her. As far as I'm concerned, she's the least likely suspect."

  "Yeah," Michael said, scratching his stubble. Problem solving was his thing, and I was glad he switched into that mode and out of protective, bossy brother mode. "I don't like the snippet the sphinx overheard. Gargoyles aren't exactly known for loyalty, and there's something going on with them right now, though we haven't been able to figure out what."

  He turned to me. "Can you have Blake pull the security footage of them? Maybe I'll recognize them. If not, I can run it through our database."

  "Sure," I said, pulling out my phone. I wasn't going to risk another text going sideways, so I hit speed dial instead. While I waited for him to pick up, Colin ordered both of us a burger. I raised my brow at the assumption, but it's what I would have ordered anyway.

  For once that day, luck was favoring me, sort of, and Blake picked up after a couple rings. Rather than engage him, I just said, "Michael wants to speak with you," and handed the phone over.

  He told Blake what he needed then rattled off a secure number. "And if you have any footage of the two witches who were at the bar when the drinks were vulnerable, send that, too." He listened for a minute and hung up.

  "He's pulling it up and sending it to me now," Michael said.

  The guys ordered another beer, and it wasn't long before our burgers came out.

  "I didn't hear you order anything," I said to my brother as Tempe climbed off my shoulder and onto the bar.