Magic Slays (Page 31)

Andrea looked at me for a long moment. "I don’t think you understand this whole business thing. Clients produce money. Employees cost money. We want fewer employees and more clients, not the other way around. We don’t need teenage bouda sex fiends as interns."

"How do you know he is a sex fiend?"

Andrea looked at me like I was mentally challenged. "He is fifteen and he is a bouda. Hello?"

Good point. I nodded to the boy wonder and the sex fiend. "Pull up some chairs."

When I came back from the kitchen with a carafe of coffee and four mugs to pour it into, everyone had gathered around Andrea’s desk.

I opened the file with the case and ran through it. By the time I finished, Derek was frowning. A crazy glow lit up Ascanio’s eyes. "Do you think people will try to kill us?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

Cool. Right. "There is a freezer in the back room with de Harven’s body in it. Go and examine it. Look at his face and memorize the scents. After you do that, walk through the office so you know the layout."

They took off.

"What’s eating you?" Andrea asked.

"I had a fight with Curran."

"What about?"

"He’s managing me." Andrea raised her eyebrows.

"He maneuvers events, taking away my choices until there is only one possible solution to a problem. It pisses me off."

"That’s what alphas do." Andrea grimaced. "I got a note from Aunt B last night."

Warning, warning, spiked traps ahead. "And?"

"She wants to meet. For a `nice chat.’"

I knew exactly what this chat would be about. Andrea was a shapeshifter, and no shapeshifter could exist within Atlanta without becoming a member of the Pack’s furry horde. Before, Andrea was a member of the Order, and the boudas kept her secret. Now she was unattached. Andrea would have to make a choice: enter the Pack and become one of Aunt B’s boudas or move. After her childhood, Andrea would rather cut her arm off than become a bouda.

"I’m not going," Andrea said suddenly.

Aunt B wouldn’t just let it go. Of all the alphas in the Pack, two gave me pause: Mahon, the Pack’s executioner and the head of Clan Heavy, and Aunt B. Screwing with Aunt B was like sticking your hands into a meat grinder. She was all sweetness and cookies, and then giant claws came out and people’s guts ended up as garlands on the chandelier.

"It’s a courtesy," I told her. "She’s letting you come to her on your terms. You blow her off too many times, and she’ll have you brought to her."

"I know." Andrea locked her teeth. Right. No intelligent life there. Arguing about it would just make things worse.

The two shapeshifters trotted back and took their seats at the table.

I explained about Chernobog, Adam’s last name, and the fact that he likely had ties to a Russian community.

Andrea frowned. "A sacrifice gives the priest a magic boost."

I nodded. "It only lasts a couple seconds, but yes."

"Could he grab Adam and his doohickey, and teleport out?"

Now there was a thought. "If he was a really, really powerful volhv, probably. But why would the volhvs need Adam?"

"I don’t get it," Derek said. "Why can’t we just go to talk to them directly?"

"When I was a merc, I took a job to guard a man. He had stolen something from the volhvs, and I kept them from killing him. They won’t talk to me or anyone associated with me." I paused to make sure I had their attention. "Volhvs throw around heavy-duty magic. Once we start asking questions, they will be on us like white on rice. We need a security protocol in place."

I looked at Derek. Start earning your keep, boy wonder.

He pushed away from the edge of the desk. "From this point on, we’re on high alert. We leave together, we arrive together. This office is a small fortress." Derek pointed at the door and looked at Ascanio. "While in the office, that door stays locked. The back door is reinforced with a metal grate. That door stays locked and barred at all times as well. We do not open the doors unless we know the person on the other side and they smell right. If you have to leave, let someone know where you’re going and when you will be back, unless it’s an emergency."

The phone rang. I picked it up.

"Kate?" Ksenia’s voice said. "Evdokia says meet her at John White Park. I’d run, not walk, if I were you."

"Thanks." I hung up. "I have an audience with the witches."

"We pide and conquer." Andrea rose. "Derek, you and I need to dig into de Harven’s background. His house, his neighbors, history, everything we can get."

"What about me?" Ascanio asked.

"You hold the fort," I told him.

"But …"

"This is the point where you say, `Yes, Alpha,’ " Derek said.

Ascanio shot him a look that was pure murder. "Yes, Alpha."

This wasn’t going to end well, I just knew it.

Chapter 9

IN ANOTHER LIFETIME, JOHN WHITE PARK HAD housed a golf course flanked by a nice middle-class neighborhood of brick houses and arbitrarily curving streets. The houses still survived, but the park had gone to hell some time ago. Dense underbrush flanked the crumbling asphalt road, and past it tall ashes and poplars reached their way to the sky, vying for space with mast-straight pines.

The pre-Shift maps put the park at around forty acres. The recent Pack map, which was the envy of every law enforcement official in the area and of which I was now a proud owner due to being the "Consort," put it closer to ninety. The trees had eaten a chunk of the subpision south of Beecher Street and chomped their way through Greenwood Cemetery.

Ninety acres of dense woods was a lot of ground to cover.

I turned the corner. A large duck sat in the middle of the street. To the left of the duck, a deep ditch took up half of the road. No way through.

The magic was up and my Jeep made enough noise to give a thunder god a complex. You’d think the stupid bird would move. I honked the horn. The duck stared at me, ruffling its brown feathers.

Honk-honk. Hoooonk!

Nothing.

"Move, you silly bird."

The duck remained unimpressed. I should get out more. This mated life made me too soft. I couldn’t even scare a duck off the road.

I got out of the Jeep and walked over to the duck. "Scoot!"

The bird gave me an evil stare.

I nudged her gently with my boot. The duck rose and flopped on my foot. The bill pinched my jeans and the bird tried to pull me to the left. One of us was nuts and it wasn’t me.

"This isn’t funny."