I shot Robin a triumphant look.
Betty planted herself across from Robin and me, clutching her ingredients.
“Where’s my cherry?” Peggy complained.
“Blasphemy,” Kitty said. “No garnish.”
“Not today, sister,” Betty said. “This cocktail is for official purposes.” She fixed her gaze on me. “Now, Miss Morrow. You may ask your question.”
I hesitated. My stomach was suddenly a tangle of nerves. What if I asked the wrong question and squandered the opportunity? I couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
Robin gently nudged me. “Be confident. You know what to ask.”
“Who killed Calvin Motley?” I blurted.
Betty stirred together the rye and vermouth and poured them into a four ounce glass. She added three dashes of bitters and I watched as the caramel colors swirled together. They were mesmerizing. Then she squeezed a bit of lemon peel over the cocktail and expressed the oil. She discarded the peel on the edge of her plate. Tiny droplets of oil gleamed on the surface of the liquid. An interesting alternative to reading tea leaves.
“Ready, sisters,” Betty said in an authoritative voice.
Kitty and Peggy moved to either side of her. They joined hands and stared into the whirling liquid. I stifled a gasp when three sets of eyes turned solid grey with no pupils.
“You must go to the Obscura,” they said in unison.
I noticed Robin tense at the mention of the Obscura. I waited for another moment to see if any more information was forthcoming. They released hands and Betty plucked her cocktail glass from the table and downed the drink in one smooth gulp.
“Whew, that’ll knock your cloak off,” Betty said. “Strong and boozy, just like my men.”
“What’s the Obscura?” I asked.
“It’s like a Wish Market for the exchange of goods, services, or information,” Betty said.
“What’s a Wish Market?” I asked.
Betty adjusted an earring. “In the human world, you have the black market, yes?”
I nodded. “It’s where illegal goods are sold.”
“It’s like that,” Kitty said, “except magical.”
“And a little creepy,” Peggy added.
Great.
“Depends on which section you visit,” Betty said. “But the information you seek is there.”
Kitty clapped her hands. “Goody. Now that the official business is over, we can eat. Go to town, everyone.”
My stomach rumbled in response.
“Give her extra,” Betty said, inclining her head toward me. “She needs energy to replenish what she’ll be using in the coming weeks.”
“Another premonition?” Robin queried.
Although Betty smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes. “Something like that.”
“What are we doing here?” I asked. We parked our bicycle in front of a place called Stake-n-Shake. It looked like a diner where waiters on roller-skates delivered trays to the patrons in their cars, except we only had a bicycle.
My jaw dropped when I saw a muscular waiter serving a tray of food to the neighboring car. He had the body of a man, and the head of a bull.
“Is he…?” I trailed off.
“Minotaur,” Robin finished, unimpressed.
Our waiter skated over to the bicycle and offered us two menus. “Can I get you started with a still or sparkling bottle of blood?” she asked.
“Neither,” Robin replied. “We’re not vampires, but we’re looking for one who frequents this place.”
The minotaur seemed to understand. “Inside. Take the staircase at the back.”
“Thank you,” Robin replied.
I followed him inside the restaurant. “What are we doing here?” I asked in a hushed tone. The prefect couldn’t possibly intend to eat here. The whole menu was geared toward vampires. I didn’t want to end up as fast food.
"I know a guy,” Robin said.
"You know a guy?" I echoed. "Why do I find that hard to believe? No offense, Boy Wonder, but you don't seem like the kind of guy who knows a guy."
Robin stopped and looked at me. "He knows the Obscura well and he owes me a favor. I helped him get access to materials he needed from the library."
I suppressed a smile. “That I can believe. Who is he?"
"A former warden," he replied. "A vampire called Gray."
"I didn't realize vampires could be wardens," I said. "I thought all of the agents were magic users."
“Agents come in all varieties. Gray graduated top of his class from the Sentinel."
"What's the Sentinel?"
Robin looked at me askance. "I keep forgetting your familiarity with the paranormal world is so limited. The Sentinel is the vampire-only feeder school to the AMF. He trained there, just as his father did before him. And his grandfather before that. It’s a very old and prestigious institution."
I frowned. "His dad and his granddad? He's a vampire. How does that work?"
“Ah, I can see you have the human world knowledge of vampires," he said. "In our world, vampires can be either made or born. We have strict rules governing turning now, though. They can't run around willy-nilly turning humans."
“Well, that's good. I object to people running around willy-nilly on principle.”
"Gray is from a very old and ancient line of vampires called the Mappleworths. His full name is Graydon Alastair Mappleworth III.”
"Only the third?" I quipped. "That doesn't sound too old to me."
"When you think about in terms of the lives of vampires, it is very old, indeed."
"So, how old is this guy?" I pictured someone like Craig Tipperary, only older and uglier.
"I'm not sure exactly," Robin said. "He’s still quite young by vampire standards. His father is still alive. His grandfather died under strange circumstances."
"If he’s such a decorated warden, why are we looking for him in the basement of a diner?” I asked.
"That's a story for another day," Robin said. We descended the staircase at the back of the restaurant and were met by a tall woman with her hair wrapped in individual colorful scarves. Her stony expression warned me not to mess with her.
"What's the password?" she asked.
Robin broke out in a nervous sweat. "I'm not certain about the password. I'm looking for Mr. Mappleworth. I understand he's here."
The woman folded her arms, and I heard the distinctive sound of snakes hissing. It seemed to emanate from beneath the scarves.
"I need a password, or you need to leave,” the woman said. “I suggest you don't make me say it again."
My pulse quickened. This woman meant business. She would have put any New York City bouncer to shame.
Robin held up a finger, trying to drum up a password, I assumed.
"How did you even know to come here?" I asked.
"He told me this is where I could find him if I ever needed him to repay the favor," he said. His voice had a slight whine to it, and I began to feel a little sorry for him. Blackmail aside, Robin really had gone out on a limb for me.
I moved to stand in front of him. "Listen, my friend is trying to help me dodge a murder rap and there’s a vampire in there who can help,” I said.
The woman took the measure of me. “You’re dodging a murder rap? Why do I find that hard to believe?”
“I saw the crime scene,” Robin interjected, and whistled. “Terrible. They found her on top of the body, covered in blood. She doesn’t remember a thing.”
I shook my head. “Not a thing.”
The woman gave a tiny smile and stepped aside. “You said the password, sweet boy.”
He smacked his forehead. “It was blood, wasn’t it?”
I pushed him forward before the bouncer could change her mind. The room was dark and smoky. There were several round tables, each one with a different card game. In the middle of the room stood a rectangular table. I wasn't familiar with the game, but it looked like a cross between roulette and craps.
"There he is," Robin said, elbowing me. I followed his gaze to the head of the rectangular table, where a blond man with a deep tan was in the process of winning a pile of money.
I swiveled my head toward Robin. "Which one?"
"The one collecting the money."
"That can't be him," I said. "He has the deepest tan I've ever seen on a blonde." No vampire in the world could have a tan like that, could he?
Robin chuckled. "You have a lot to learn, don’t you?" He jostled me forward. "Come on. Let's strike now, while he's in a good mood from winning."
Graydon Alastair Mappleworth III was nothing like Craig Tipperary. In fact, he was one of the hottest guys I'd ever seen in my life. He oozed sex appeal, and I couldn't decide whether it was the bad boy leather jacket he sported or the sinewy muscle underneath. His cheekbones alone appeared to have been sculpted by the gods.
"Gray, good to see you, buddy," Robin said with forced enthusiasm. I cringed. I may have been new to the paranormal world, but Robin was the one clearly out of his depth.
Gray stared at Robin for a brief moment, clearly trying to place him. “I’d recognize that bow tie anywhere.” He snapped his fingers. "Library guy."
“Prefect Robin Chambers,” he said.
"Yes, that's right." He peered over Robin’s shoulder. "How did you get in here? This area is restricted."
Robin inclined his head toward me. “It was a team effort.”
I gave him a small wave. "Bryn Morrow."
He gave me a cursory glance before shifting his attention back to Robin. "This isn't a safe place for you or your friend, library guy. We should probably talk upstairs."
"I would appreciate that, except the restaurant is so loud," Robin said. "I don't think I'd be able to carry on a conversation."
Gray gave him a look that suggested disbelief. Robin really was one sentence short of yelling at kids to get off his lawn.
"I know another place where we can talk," he said. "Follow me, and stay close. Ignore any succubi that throw themselves in front of you." He looked at me. "Don't think they won't try for you, too. Their appetite knows no gender."
I gulped.
Gray threaded his way through the gamblers. His long strides made it difficult for us to keep up. He exited through a different door than the one we came in. It led to a spiral metal staircase. We climbed up what seemed like multiple flights until we reached the top. Gray opened the door to a small room with a futon on the floor and a small round table beside it. There appeared to be a closet door, but I had no idea what was behind it.
"Is there a light switch somewhere?" Robin asked, fumbling along the wall.
"No light," Gray said. "My night vision is as good as my day vision."
"This is your room?" I blurted. For a vampire with a fancy name, he sure liked living rough.
"It's where I stay when I'm in town," he said. He turned to Robin. "You said you had a problem with sound. You didn't say you had a problem with sight."
"No, no, of course not," Robin said. I promptly heard him trip over a floorboard. "We can manage here."
"Good, because this is what I'm offering you," Gray replied gruffly. “Now, what do you need?"
"Information," I said. "We went to see an oracle, and they said the answer we seek can be found at the Obscura. Boy Wonder…I mean, Robin says that you can help us."
Gray leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Man, those biceps were impressive even before he accentuated them.
“Sure, that's easy," Gray said. “We’ll go together.”
Robin strangled a cry. "We can't possibly go to the Obscura."
Gray shrugged. "Fine, you stay behind. Easier with only two of us, anyway."
My eyes popped. "I have to go, too?"
Gray looked me up and down. “I take it you’re the one in need.”
“I’m not sure that I can sanction…” Robin began.
Gray fixed him with a hard stare. “Are you asking for my help or not?”
“Yes, of course.” Robin cleared his throat. “It’s just that Miss Morrow is a new student, and I’m not comfortable placing her in a dangerous situation. Perhaps I should go instead.”
“Are you suggesting I can’t protect your friend?” Gray’s fangs dropped down, and I nearly jumped at the sight.
“No, not at all.” Robin appeared caught between a rock and a pointy place. “I came to you because you’re the best choice for the Obscura.”
“No one better,” Gray agreed.
Robin glanced at me with concern. “I want Miss Morrow to feel safe at all times.”
“That’s impossible,” Gray replied shortly. “No one can ever feel safe at all times. That isn’t the world we live in.”
No, and it hadn’t been the one I lived in, either. I sort of liked Gray, despite my completely rational fear of him.
“I’ll go,” I blurted.
“You will?” Both men replied at the same time.
“I need to go to the Obscura and get whatever information the oracle said is there,” I said. “Gray knows the ins and outs of the market. It’ll be fine.”
“If I recall correctly, the academy encourages independence,” Gray said. “Miss Morrow wants a real world experience to complement her studies, and I can provide that.”
“What Miss Morrow wants is to prove that she’s innocent of theft and murder,” Robin reminded him. “The rest of it is secondary.”
“Theft and murder?” Gray’s gaze settled on me and I shivered involuntarily. “Is that right?”
“No, it’s all wrong,” I said. “That’s why I need to clear my name.”
Gray nodded, understanding. “Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up in front of the library.”
My mind immediately conjured up images of Fred and George. “How about the gateway instead?”
“Gateway will do fine,” Gray said. “Don’t wear your cloak or anything that signifies the academy. If you want information, we need to do this my way, or not at all.”
“Within reason,” Robin said.
Gray’s jaw clenched. “I believe I said my way, or not at all.”
My gaze darted to Robin. “The oracle said to go, right?” I tried to keep my voice calm, so as not to worry the uptight prefect.
Robin bit his lip. “They’re never wrong.”
Gray glanced from Robin to me. “How about it then, Morrow? You still game?”
I inhaled deeply. “I am.”
9
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Mia asked, as I slipped out of my cloak and hung it on a hanger in the closet. I had ten minutes before I had to meet Gray for our trip to the Obscura.
“Of course, she does,” Dani said. “Trust me, you don’t want to cast a shadow over your name if you can help it. The stigma will follow you everywhere. Get out in front of the rumors, before they get out of hand.”
“Dani knows what she’s talking about,” Cerys chimed in. “The Degraffs…”
Dani shot her a quieting look. “We’re talking about Bryn clearing her name. That’s all.”
If Dani thought a murder and theft charge would haunt me, I could only imagine what she’d say about my father’s identity. Talk about casting a dark shadow.
“Gray said not to wear anything that shows I’m from the academy,” I said. “It seems like everything Hazel stocked for clothing has a huge ’S’ on it.” I felt a little like Superman, not that I was complaining. I arrived in one outfit and no shoes. I was grateful for everything I’d been given.
“Here, wear this.” Dani pulled a T-shirt and jeans from her end of the closet. The white T-shirt featured the silhouette of a witch on a broomstick and was emblazoned with the caption, Resting Witch Face.
“Won’t this give away that I have magic?” I asked.
“Not if they think it’s ironic,” Mia said.
“You want them to know you have magic,” Dani said. “You just don’t want them to know you’re a future AMF agent.”
Ah. The critical difference.
“Thanks.” I still had so much to learn.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Dani asked. “I’ve never been to the market.”
“It’d be too much attention,” Cerys said.
Dani sighed with disappointment. “Tell us every detail when you get back.”
“I will.” I hurried to the bathroom to change. I had the feeling that nobody kept Graydon Alastair Mappleworth III waiting.
Gray waited in front of the gateway as promised, perched on a motorcycle. I wasn’t sure how keen I was to ride on the back of a vampire’s metal death machine. Whatever. I was just grateful it wasn’t a bicycle built for two.
“Cute shirt,” Gray said, mildly amused.
“Thanks, it’s not mine.”
“Did you get your starter wand yet?” he asked.
I paused. “No, why?”
“Because you’re gonna need it,” he said.
Well, that wasn’t ominous or anything. “I can do magic without a wand,” I said.
“Good, that’ll help.” Gray handed me a black helmet. “Safety first.”
“You’re not wearing one.”
“I’m a vampire. I have that whole immortality thing going for me.”
Right. I pulled the helmet over my head and breathed heavily. “Luke, I am your father,” I said. I knew it was a misquote, but I didn’t care. It was still funny.
“Who’s Luke?” Gray asked.
“Forget it,” I mumbled. I wanted to feel smug that I knew something that the vampire didn’t, even if it was only a pop culture reference. Instead, I felt stupid that he didn’t laugh.
“Sit behind me,” he instructed. “Make sure you hold on to me—tight. I don’t need any casualties before we even get there.”
I swung a leg over the seat and hopped on. It was slightly awkward, but I managed it without falling off. The arms thing would be trickier. The thought of pressing myself against a hot vampire was both alarming and thrilling.
“Too loose,” he said, and my embrace automatically tightened in response. Man, his abs were like the stone walls of the academy. “That’s better.”
I hoped he couldn’t hear my heart thumping against his back. Heartbeats were probably to vampires like red flags to bulls. The analogy was unsettling.
Outcast: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Warden of the West Book 1) Page 8