Corruption

by Jennifer Blackstream

“Well, they could take it away,” Peasblossom pointed out. “They’d cut off the bit that had the tattoo.”

  Andy’s lips parted, and I glared at Peasblossom. “Helping or hurting?” I demanded.

  She furrowed her brow in genuine confusion. “I’m always helping.”

  I pulled the dustpan free from where it locked onto the broom’s handle. Careful not to kneel in glass, I hunkered down to gather the biggest pieces.

  “If you want to talk about protecting someone, we should talk less about how I upset a herd of water horses and more about the fact that a powerful sidhe owns you.”

  I turned so my back was to Andy, furious when the unmistakable warmth of a blush spread over my cheeks. Flint Valencia, leannan sidhe, serial killer, and a man who turned seduction into a weapon, had tricked me last month. I’d been stupid enough to bargain for his help, assuming our even trade would mean escaping the consequences of teaming up with a member of the sidhe. I still wasn’t sure how much of what happened he’d planned. But I wasn’t so naïve as to write it off as one giant coincidence that to save the kids I’d asked for his help to get out of a sidhe stronghold, and then I’d had to take their place at a human slave auction. A slave auction he’d won.

  I clenched my teeth. “I’m dealing with that.”

  “You’re dealing with it?” Andy tapped the file against the bar. “And how are you dealing with it?”

  “There are ways to…limit his control.” I picked up a shard of glass the size of a dessert plate. Blood and bone, this is embarrassing. “He can’t order me to use magic to hurt anyone because it violates my code as a witch. And he can’t make me tell him the details of an ongoing police investigation, thanks to the contracts I sign before I work with you.” I gestured with my chin to the blue file at the end of the bar, the one that held a ready stack of contracts. Once I’d signed the confidentiality agreement, breaking said confidentiality agreement would make me forsworn—something Flint couldn’t order me to do, ownership or no.

  “Have you figured out a way to avoid your weekly dinner dates?”

  The blush grew hotter. “No. And they’re not dates.”

  “Dinner every Saturday night sounds like a date to me.”

  There was no jealousy in his tone, only calm observation. “We meet in a neutral place. I don’t go to his house, and he doesn’t come to mine.” I patted myself on the back for that one. The thought of having the sidhe in my house with the authority to poke around my things twisted my stomach. And the thought of going to his house…twisted other things. Neither was a good idea. I’d had to argue that point, and it had taken some convincing. I considered it a huge win.

  “So instead you’ll meet at romantic bistros?”

  I scowled. Not a total win. “I’m not sleeping with him.”

  I regretted saying it as soon as the words left my mouth. The obvious next question for Andy would be “Could he make you sleep with him?” I really, really didn’t want to answer that.

  Andy was silent long enough that I knew he’d thought of the question. But then he reminded me why he was such an incredible partner—he didn’t ask it.

  “You said you have to tell him when you take on a new case or if someone tries to kill you. So you think he’s only interested in you because he believes you’re part of a prophecy?”

  “That’s my best guess,” I said honestly. “It’s all he seems interested in. When we meet for dinner, he grills me on the cases I worked—whatever information I’m allowed to share with him—who I’ve met, that sort of thing.”

  “And he asks about romance,” Peasblossom reminded me. “Did you kiss anyone, do you have new feelings for anyone. Did you have se—”

  I shrugged my shoulder, and Peasblossom cut herself off with a yelp. “Thank you, Peasblossom,” I murmured.

  “I almost fell!” She grabbed a lock of my hair and gave a warning tug. “I’m going to sew seat belts into shoulder pads and glue them to your shirts.”

  I made a mental note to hide the glue gun.

  “Have we determined that the black cat that was following you around last month is a potential… What did you call it? An animal companion?”

  Peasblossom gave my hair a final defiant tug, then crossed her arms and settled into a sulk.

  “Probably.” I carried the dustpan full of glass to the trash bin behind the bar and dumped it. “At least, that’s the consensus. Flint thinks I might have caught its attention the same way I caught—”

  I stopped. I’d almost mentioned Anton Winters. That was not a name I could afford to drop, not in front of Andy. He didn’t know Cleveland’s most successful “businessman” was a vampire, but I was pretty sure that as an FBI agent, Andy would suspect there was more to the undead’s business than was strictly legal. I’d promised to introduce Andy to the Otherworld, help him navigate cases that might have a non-human component, but I couldn’t speak to him about Anton. The confidentiality agreement I’d signed with the vampire forbade it, and enchanted contracts were lethal if broken.

  Then there was his telepathic secretary who’d accused me of trying to get around the contract. I didn’t think she’d forgotten about me, or the way I’d gone to her boss to get around her.

  Andy didn’t seem to notice my sudden stop. He stared at something to his right, near the door. I followed his gaze—and froze.

  As if our conversation had summoned it, the hulking black cat in question sat on the other side of the room. The beast was bigger than any mundane cat, even the great cats. On all fours, its head came to my shoulder, and it easily weighed over seven hundred pounds. Though it resembled an enormous panther, the ears were wrong for the breed, too pointed. And there was a shadowy quality to its form, as if it weren’t really there. As though it were a lingering nightmare come to life.

  “Maybe I should install a cat door,” Andy murmured. His hand lingered near his gun.

  “Don’t shoot it,” I warned.

  “I’m not going to shoot it.” He paused, considered that. “Would it do me any good to shoot it?”

  “Bullets have iron, and I’m pretty sure it’s fey. If you could hit it, you could hurt it.” A shiver ran down my spine. “But somehow…I don’t think you would.”

  Instinct told me the beast would be fast, impossibly fast. Andy was an incredible shot, but he was human, with human limitations. The black cat crept forward, silent as a dark fog. My heart skipped a beat as it approached the sleeping kitten, sniffing the air above Majesty. The kitten cracked open one eye.

  “Oh please, don’t scare him,” I begged, trying not to sound as panicked as I felt. “Please, I can’t face another rhinoceros.”

  The cat blinked as if it had understood me, then studied the kitten with renewed interest, tilting its massive head to one side.

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes, a rhinoceros. It’s one of the fun, terrifying things that can happen if you startle that…kitten.”

  “You weren’t going to say kitten,” Peasblossom accused. “You were going to say a bad word, weren’t you? Which one?”

  My phone rang, and I jumped a foot in the air. Majesty shot to his feet, claws piercing the couch. The black cat’s ears rose.

  “Please don’t summon another rhinoceros.” I fumbled for my phone. “Hello?”

  “Shade! Shade Renard?”

  It was a woman’s voice, thick with an Italian accent. She sounded hoarse, and her last word ended in a way that suggested she was clenching her teeth. Nearby her a door opened, then slammed shut.

  I straightened my spine, magic kitten forgotten. “Yes, this is Shade. Who is this? Are you all right?”

  “They’re dead, both dead. Murdered. You have to help…” She groaned.

  I gripped the phone tighter, staring at Andy. He didn’t take his attention off the cats, or his hand from his gun.

  “Who was murdered? What happened? Where are you?”

  Andy met my gaze. Tension seized his shoulders, and he put the gun away.

  “I’m at St. Mic
hael’s on Lexington Avenue. I need your help, you must come now. Please hurry, I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.”

  “Hold what?”

  “The demon.”

  The line went dead. I stared at my phone and the unfamiliar number. My blood turned to ice in my veins, making every throb of my heart torture. Andy had disappeared, and now he returned with a box of trash bags and a roll of duct tape.

  “What happened?” He put the box down and quickly began taping white plastic over the rhino’s exit.

  “A demon killed two people at St. Michael’s on Lexington. I have to go help.”

  “You go, I’ll follow.”

  I wanted to argue, wanted to tell him he had no business fighting a demon. Not when he’d already made powerful enemies. But he wasn’t the sort of man to stand down from danger, and convincing him to stay behind would be a long fight I’d lose anyway.

  A spell would make him stay. A spell could keep him safe.

  I dismissed the idea, guilt eating at me for even considering it. Never again. He was starting to trust me, I couldn’t do that again. Ever.

  “Are you a man of faith?” I asked him.

  “Faith in what? God?”

  “One god, multiple gods, male gods, female gods. Specifics don’t matter. Just faith, real faith, something more than yourself.”

  Andy didn’t pause or look at me. “No.”

  I bit my lip. This was not going to go well.

  Chapter 2

  “I need clarification.” I glared at the traffic light until it turned green, then punched the gas pedal, shooting through the intersection with heart-stopping suddenness.

  “Clarification?” Flint’s voice flowed through the phone like whiskey, smooth and a little smoky.

  The thrill I usually got from his sensual tone was lost under the flood of adrenaline sizzling through my veins. Nothing like the promise of an angry demon to get the blood flowing.

  I gritted my teeth and focused on reading the street signs, glaring at my GPS that had decided to lose its signal and leave me to navigate Cleveland on my own. “Yes, clarification. You mentioned that you’d like me to tell you when I’ve taken on a case.”

  Denim rustled as if he were putting on his pants. “I did not say I would like you to tell me when you’ve taken on a case. I told you, in no uncertain terms, that you are to inform me whenever you take on a new case—immediately.”

  The hint of amusement in his tone did not subtract from the message. It wasn’t a request. It was a command from my master. I bristled. “What exactly constitutes ‘taking on a case?’”

  Flint sighed and bedsprings told me he’d sat down on the mattress. “You’re going to make this as difficult as possible, aren’t you?”

  “I only want to be clear.” I squinted at a street sign that someone had spray painted with what I hoped was a picture of a rocket ship. “Let no one say I don’t keep my word.”

  “To the letter, if not the spirit.”

  I took a chance and turned right, another knot of tension twisting the muscles behind my shoulders. “Does ‘taking a case’ mean someone asking me for a consultation, or does it only apply when a contract has been signed, or money has changed hands?”

  “It means before you take an action on behalf of a client, you inform me who the client is, and what they’re asking you to do.”

  “What if someone asks for help, but doesn’t specify they want to hire me?” I took my eyes off the road for a split second to look at Peasblossom. “I give you my word I will investigate this matter concerning the demon.”

  “What did you say?” Flint asked sharply.

  “She gave me her word—” Peasblossom began.

  “Nothing important,” I interrupted. “Now about helping—”

  “Call me as soon as they ask you for help,” he snapped.

  “In that case, I just received a call about a demon. I’m on my way to the church to check it out.” I halted at a stop light in front of yet another defaced street sign. “You don’t know where St. Michael’s is, by any chance?”

  “Stop the car and turn around,” Flint said. “You are not a holy warrior, you have no business dealing with demons.”

  “Something I should have considered before we began our relationship,” I muttered.

  “Shade.”

  The note of warning in his voice made my stomach clench painfully tight, and I squirmed in my seat. “Sorry, but I’ve already given my word to investigate. And as we’ve discussed at great length, you can’t order me to do something that would cause me to be forsworn.”

  “I’ve had it with your games,” Flint growled. “From now on, unless not doing so would endanger your life, you will ask me for permission before you give your word—to anyone.”

  My temper flared, and I pressed my lips together to withhold my opinion of that idea. Stay calm. Breathe. “Will do. Thank you, Master.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I won’t. Have a wonderful day.” I wanted to hang up right then, but he’d figured out early on to make it a condition of our phone calls that I’m not allowed to end the call until he said goodbye.

  “Call me tonight,” he said finally. “It seems we need to have another discussion.”

  Unease rolled down my spine like a snowball, but I didn’t have time to weasel my way out. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the conversation the closer I got to the demon. “Will do.”

  When the call disconnected, I put the phone down on the passenger seat. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

  “Don’t think for a minute it’s not going to get worse,” Peasblossom warned, her voice far too grim for her cute pink face. “He owns you for another eleven months. It’s only a matter of time before he makes use of that control.”

  I gripped the wheel and forced myself to take a slow breath. I was racing toward a demon who’d just murdered someone. The last thing I needed to be thinking about right now was my new sidhe master and what he might have in store for me. “It’ll be fine. He just wants information. And he knows how stupid it would be to do something bad enough to make me his enemy. When the eleven months are up, he won’t want to be on a witch’s bad side.”

  “The point isn’t what will he do, or what it would be smart to do. It’s within his power. Remember what we say about bargains with sidhe? Think about what they can do, not what you think they will do.”

  A lump rose in my throat, and I fought to swallow past it.

  Peasblossom climbed into my lap, then jumped to grab the steering wheel, hanging from it like a streamer off a bike handle.

  “Stop it!” I snapped. “You know I don’t like you touching the wheel when I’m driving.”

  “Do you think Andy’s house is weird?” Peasblossom asked, ignoring my reprimand.

  I tried to relax and accept the welcome change in subject. “What do you mean by weird? You mean why does he share Mrs. Opal’s fondness for Precious Moments figurines?”

  Peasblossom kicked her feet in the air, her toes a hair’s breadth from my thigh. “That’s part of it. I mean it looks like he’s camping out in his mom and dad’s house.”

  “It could be his parents’ house,” I said. “Maybe they passed away and he inherited it. It’s not unusual for people to feel strange redecorating their parents’ house. Especially not if they passed recently.”

  “Well, he’s not sleeping in the main bedroom. I checked. That door’s locked, and he’s sleeping in the smaller bedroom.”

  I took my eyes off the road long enough to gape at her. “You were snooping around Andy’s house?”

  Peasblossom looked up at me as if she’d never seen me before. “Of course.”

  I almost missed a turn, and jerked the wheel to the right, my heart leaping into my throat. Peasblossom yelped and dropped into my lap.

  “Don’t snoop around Andy’s house anymore. He’s a private person.”

  “You’re just mad because he yelled at you when you tri
ed to use the upstairs bathroom,” Peasblossom snapped. She hopped out of my lap and resumed dangling from the steering wheel.

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “He didn’t yell at me, he asked me to use the one downstairs in the family room. And I said get off the steering wheel!”

  Peasblossom slumped onto the black nylon fanny pack and crossed her arms. “You’re not ready to fight a demon. We’re both going to get toasted.”

  “We don’t even know what kind of demon it is,” I insisted, ignoring the voice in my head that agreed with her.

  “Oh, so you think it might be a nice demon who just killed someone?”

  “Someone asked for our help, we have to check it out.” I cleared my throat. “But now might be a good time for a little holy inventory.”

  The zipper jingled on my pouch as Peasblossom wrestled it open. She leaned inside, disappearing up to her waist. “Ready!”

  “Holy water?”

  “Check!”

  “Blessed dagger?”

  Peasblossom rifled around in the pouch, then slipped inside. A few grunts later, the blue leather bound hilt of a dagger poked out. “Check!”

  I slammed on the brakes as a traffic light switched to red. Peasblossom squealed, and the dagger disappeared inside the pouch. I thought I heard something snap.

  “Are you okay?” Pulse racing, I unzipped the pouch the rest of the way, searching the enchanted confines for some sign of the pink pixie. “Peasblossom?”

  “I landed on a cat toy.” Accusation thickened her words, but she didn’t sound as though she were in pain. I let out a relieved breath and glared at the light. It turned green.

  More grunting preceded the reappearance of the dagger. This time, she gave it a hard shove, and the weapon fell out of my pouch to clatter against the gearshift.

  “Are you ok—”

  “You bought a cat toy!”

  My attention fell on the church up ahead. A sign out front declared it to be St. Michael’s.

  I’d expected fire, or at least thick black smoke. The panic in the woman’s voice, along with the mention of a demon inspired ideas of fire and brimstone, something violent. Quite the contrary, the serene church could have been plucked from a children’s picture book of rural England.