“Yes,” McManus said.
“No,” Bianca corrected. “But he asked me to stop by and see him any time. Tell him it’s Bianca Sin.”
The guard took her ID and went to the other side of the room. He talked on the phone for about a minute then looked at her ID and nodded.
“Bright one, that,” McManus whispered in her ear. “He does know they can’t see him on the phone.”
“Maybe they can.” She pointed to the camera in the corner facing their way.
McManus smiled and waved. She read Yes sir on the guard’s lips as he glanced at them.
He finally hung up the phone and returned, handing back her ID card. “Someone will be here to collect you shortly. Please come through and wait.”
“Thank you,” she said politely.
He hit a button in the desk and a glass door opened to the left of them.
“That was easy,” she whispered as they entered a waiting room with the large stylized letters OFL painted on the wall opposite the security counter.
“Too easy,” McManus said. “O’Shea’s up to something.”
“I never knew this place was so big,” she said, looking at pictures on the wall.
“O’Shea Freight and Logistics is the biggest independent transit company in the country, perhaps the world. They have their own trucks, aircraft, even ships and dispatches worldwide,” McManus said. “Which is how we suspect he moves the drugs.”
“Shhh.” She looked around nervously.
“Welcome to O’Shea Freight and Logistics, Dr. Sin.” A man in a suit and dark glasses stood in the doorway with another uniformed guard. “And Detective McManus as well. I’m Mr. O’Shea’s head of security. He’s waiting for you in his office.” The security head stopped at the desk and held out his hand to McManus. “But before we go—your weapon please.”
“I don’t think so,” McManus said with a dangerous smile that never reached his glacial eyes.
The other man easily had a good six inches on him and outweighed McManus by at least one hundred pounds. “Your weapon please,” he repeated as he looked through the door and nodded.
McManus stood his ground.
The uniformed guard who had come with the suit grabbed McManus from behind and pinned his arms behind his back.
“Let them have your gun, McManus,” Bianca said. He was going to get hurt if he fought them.
The security head stepped forward, flipped open his jacket and took the gun from the holster under McManus’s arm, then handed it to the guard behind the desk and patted up McManus’s legs, searching for more weapons.
“Hey. The least you could do is buy me dinner first,” McManus growled.
“You’ll get your firearm back when you leave,” the suit said.
“I’d better, or I’ll be taking yours,” McManus warned.
The suit smiled confidently and led them to the open Jeep waiting outside, where the uniformed guard who had been with them slipped behind the wheel. They drove through the complex, and as they passed one of the aircraft hangars, a strange sensation washed over Bianca. It wasn’t like any thaumaturgic energy she’d ever experienced before. It was neither white nor black, and she had the sudden urge to get as far away from the hangar as she could.
A protection spell.
The magic was so subtle that another witch probably wouldn’t have detected it, not even her mother, but her sensitivity grew daily.
She glanced at their escorts in the front seat and leaned close to McManus’s ear. “There’s some heavy duty spells at work here. Powerful concealment enchantments.”
“What could a drug cartel acting as a transit company have to hide?” he growled in a harsh whisper. “Hmm, let me think. Drugs?”
“There’s no need to get snippy,” she replied.
He scrubbed a hand across his craggy features. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Sin. I guess I’m still a little pissed at the manhandling back there.”
The car stopped in the designated security spot in front of the six-story administration building. The security detail got out first and waited with feet apart, hands clasped low in front while she and McManus climbed out off the Jeep. O’Shea wanted them escorted straight to him without any chance of a detour.
Inside the building, the uniform guard moved into the elevator first and turned around to stare ahead. Bianca entered with McManus, and then the security head, who stood in front with his back to them as he pushed the sixth floor button.
McManus stared up at the changing floor numbers, his expression neutral. “Just so you know. You touch me again and I’ll break your fucking nose.”
Bianca started to doubt she’d even heard him until the security head looked over his shoulder with an arrogant self-certain smile. “I’d like to see you try.”
The doors opened onto the top level, dominated entirely by Corey O’Shea’s extensive office suit. Most of the open plan space had floor-to-ceiling windows, giving them an almost 360-degree view of the vast complex. The furniture was expensive yet tasteful, and she got the impression that opulence and power were what the O’Shea brothers were all about.
The man himself sat behind and immense dark wood desk, leaning forward in his large, high-backed leather chair, resting his elbows on the arms. “Well now, the delicious Dr. Sin and Detective McManus. Or should I say Mister McManus?”
“So you’ve heard about my suspension,” the detective said. “Which means you know I’m not here on official police business.”
“Nor do you have their protection.” O’Shea’s smile was both charming and lethal.
Bianca no longer had any doubts this man was a killer. But looking at McManus, she was starting to get the same feeling about him.
Several men in dark suits stood around the room. O’Shea’s brother, Seamus, dressed in the same ankle-length black coat he’d worn the other night, lounged in the corner, his fingertips pressed together, forming a steeple. His long dark hair fell over his face, concealing most of his features. Except those eyes—the cold gray eyes of a pure predator.
“Please take a seat,” Corey said, indicating the chairs on the other side of the desk.
Bianca moved forward but McManus’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Thanks, but I think we’ll stand,” he said.
“And I prefer you sit.” Corey narrowed cold eyes.
The uniformed security guard took her elbow as the security head grabbed McManus. He spun, snagging the man’s wrist, twisted it behind the man’s back and smashed his face into the wall beside the elevator. She heard bones crack as McManus forced the security head’s arm between his shoulder blades.
“I warned you I’d break your nose if you touched me again,” McManus hissed. “Consider the arm a bonus.”
The man brought his other elbow up and smashed McManus in the mouth, then slammed his fist into the detective’s kidney, dropping McManus to his hands and knees.
The detective spat blood onto the floor. He looked over his shoulder as the head of security kicked him in the gut, sending him over on his side coughing and gasping for breath. Bianca didn’t know what to do. Kedrax was too far away for anything but the simplest of spells.
The head of security pulled his gun, his lips peeling back in a snarl as he pointed the weapon at McManus’s head. Hair sprouted on his hands and face. Animalian, probably canian.
The detective rolled to his feet in one fluid movement, leapt forward and slammed the gun hand back into the man’s face, opening a gash on the cheek. It surprised them all. Two other men in dark suits rushed in and tackled McManus to the floor, one shoving a knee in his back, the other pinning his shoulders.
Corey stood then and came around from his behind his desk. “Stop struggling, McManus, and my men will let you go.”
He nodded at his men, and when McManus finally stopped struggling, they climbed off and lifted him by his
arms to his feet.
As Bianca moved toward him, one of bodyguards grabbed her upper arm and roughly pulled her back. In response, McManus struggled against the guards restraining him, his face fierce. “Don’t you touch her.”
“Let her go,” O’Shea said as he moved back to his chair. “And calm down, McManus. If I wanted you dead, you would be.”
The two bodyguards released the detective. A fly landed on the side of McManus’s face, buzzed off and landed, then buzzed off and landed again. She watched mesmerized as it continued, shifting with jerky little movements to drink from the blood leaking from his bleeding eyebrow. Then it landed on the top of his ear as it rubbed its front legs together.
Strange. What was a fly doing in here?
Corey gave his brother a short sharp nod. In a blur of fluid movement Seamus stood, reached into his pocket, extended his arm, and sat back in his seat. A blade flipped through the air, skimmed past McManus’s ear and embedded in the wall behind, pinning the fly. Well, what was left of it.
The detective straightened his jacket, his ice-blue eyes narrowing. “Is that supposed to impress me?” he asked as he pulled out a cigarette from inside his pocket and placed the butt between his lips.
It sure impressed the hell out her.
As McManus felt around his pockets for his lighter, a gun blast startled her. Only a tiny remainder of the cigarette butt hung on McManus’s bottom lip. The ever-silent Seamus O’Shea was again slouched in the chair with steepled fingers, except now his long black coat lay open, revealing a gun holster strapped to his left thigh and an array of knives strapped to his chest. The gun was a very large and very shiny semiautomatic pistol.
“Now,” McManus said, taking the remainder of the cigarette from his mouth. “That was impressive.”
“You see,” Corey O’Shea said. “My brother may be skilled with a knife, but with a gun, he’s a surgeon. As I said, if I wanted you dead, you would be and you’d never see it coming. Now, please sit?”
A coppery taste coated his tongue, and he reached up to touch his mouth, bringing away blood-smeared fingertips confirming the sting was a split lip. He locked eyes with Bianca. While he was pissed at his treatment, seeing her manhandled had his blood boiling. She smiled at him, letting him know she was okay. She looked more concerned about him than anything else. She took the seat to the left while he pulled up the chair on the right.
He needed a hit. He could feel the shakes starting in his fingers; physical exertion had depleted his reserves. He took another cigarette from his pocket and held it up to Seamus O’Shea just in case the sharpshooter had something against smoking.
Seamus shrugged.
McManus put the cigarette in his mouth and this time found his lighter. As he lit the tip, he watched the younger O’Shea brother out of the corner of his eye. The man might look as if he was bored, but McManus knew he was being watched right back.
After he exhaled, he turned to Corey O’Shea. “I take it you already know about your cousin.”
The older O’Shea nodded. “Madam Lo called me.” He leaned forward on his desk and clasped his fingers together. “So, Detective, what are you doing to find my cousin’s killer?”
“Nothing.” The cigarette had lost its flavor. McManus stood up, put it out in the ashtray on O’Shea’s desk, and remained standing. “As you already pointed out, I’ve been suspended.”
“Ah, but you’re here.” O’Shea leaned back in his chair. “So let’s drop the pretense. You’re a cop through and through. You’re not going to let a little thing like a suspension stop you. If you’re here to talk to me, then you either think I can help or I’m a suspect.”
“Maybe a little of both,” McManus said.
“So . . .” O’Shea leaned back and spread his hands wide. “Ask away.”
“What do you know about your cousin’s recent activities?”
“As I told you before, I haven’t talked to Jimmy in a couple of weeks.”
“Did you know he was involved with at least two of the victims who were killed recently?” McManus asked, and glanced at Bianca.
“You’re talking about the Womb Raider, aren’t you?” O’Shea frowned. “Why would Jimmy be involved in that?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out.”
O’Shea brought his hands together and placed the joined tips of his index fingers against his lips. “I’d say that it’s a fairly big coincidence.”
“A coincidence,” McManus said, astounded.
Bianca stepped up beside McManus. “The first victim owed him money, and he got her a job in a nearby magic novelty store where she was murdered, then his girlfriend was killed in the safe house McManus had arranged after we found his body.”
“That is a fairly big coincidence, isn’t it?” O’Shea said. “But I’m sorry, I can’t help any further. As I said, it’s been weeks since I last saw my cousin. Now if that is all, I’ll have you escorted back to the front gate.”
“One more thing,” Bianca said. “What is your involvement with the Hilden group?”
O’Shea looked at her and his frown deepened. “They’re clients. Why?”
“We hear your company has made significant donations to a certain bid for a CHaPR appointment,” she replied.
“There’s no law against supporting a candidate, is there?” O’Shea asked.
“No,” McManus said. “No law against it. But still it’s interesting that you would be interested in the politics of CHaPR.”
“My only interest is in my interests. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect me and mine.” Corey O’Shea’s composure grew frosty. “Now if you don’t mind, I have to get back to running a company.” He nodded to the security guards. “Please escort our guests back to their car.”
On the drive back to the front gate, they passed the warehouse Bianca had mentioned on the way in. She stiffened beside him.
“Do you still sense something?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Then I think we should come back here and take a look in that warehouse later,” he whispered in her ear.
She shot him a wide-eyed look.
26
Devil’s in the Detail
How had she ever let McManus talk her into this? It seemed like the perfect idea when they’d left the O’Shea office this afternoon, but now, either way she looked at it, it was still breaking and entering, and still illegal. Not that it would matter if Corey O’Shea caught them. Not if he was even half as dangerous as McManus kept telling her.
He was right about one thing, though—they had to make sure the stolen babies weren’t hidden away in that magically protected warehouse.
Bianca signaled right and checked the review mirror to change lanes, catching a blur of movement in the back.
“What the—” She quickly glanced over her shoulder into the backseat, catching another flash of blue.
“Come out where I can see you,” she said.
Kedrax’s head popped up between the seats, looking rather shamefaced.
“Get in here.” She indicated the front seat.
The little dragon slunk up over the middle console and into the seat beside her. Then Vincent’s head replaced Kedrax’s between the seats.
“You too?” she said in amazement. “Come on.”
The two of them sat side by side on the passenger seat, looking up at her—sheepish guilt written all over their little faces.
“What the hell are you two doing here?” she asked.
Vincent glanced at Kedrax and started cleaning himself. Great avoidance tactic.
“We were worried about you.” The dragon lowered his head and looked up with soulful eyes. “And you’ll need my help to get past that concealment enchantment. I need to be nearer for that.”
He was right damnit. She sighed. “Why didn’t you just ask?”
The cat stopped cleaning himself and made a funny little noise as he looked at the dragon. Bianca could swear he was frowning. Could cats even frown?
“All right, I thought you would say no,” Kedrax said, and the cat resumed licking his fur. “But Vincent agreed with me.”
Hang on . . . back it up. “He understands you?”
Kedrax glanced at the black cat and tilted his head to the side. “Of course he does.”
“How?”
The dragon’s head tilted to the other side, his expression puzzled. “Because we bonded.”
Right. Of course that explains everything.
“Okay, but you’ll stay in the car, and don’t let anyone to see you,” she ordered. “Understood?”
Kedrax brightened. “Understood.”
He crouched down on his stomach, crossed his front paws and relaxed. Vincent lay down beside him. The dragon was catching up to his size faster than she would’ve believed.
The two animals climbed into the backseat as Bianca pulled in behind McManus half a block from the OFL complex entrance. McManus leaned against his car smoking a cigarette while he waited for her. He threw the butt on the ground and stomped it out.
Like her, he wore all black, including a beanie to cover his sandy blond hair. It was strange to see him dressed in anything other than a suit, especially in such ill-fitting clothes.
“Yeah, I know,” he said, plucking the T-shirt at least two sizes too big. “I didn’t have much time and this was all they had in black.”
Bianca tried to remain serious as she grabbed her bag of tricks out of the car, shutting the door quickly before he could look inside. “Let’s get on with it, then.”
“What’ve you got in there?” he asked, pointing to the bag.
“You don’t think we’re going to get in on your charm and my good looks, do you? We need something to disarm that concealment enchantment, and I have just the toys to do it.”
“Of course you do.” His smile turned serious as he picked up his own pack and slung it over his shoulder. “I got here early to scope out the best way into the complex. I think I’ve found a hole in their defenses not far from the hangar.”
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