Read Dark Descent Page 17


  “But you are quite ingenious,” he continued. “That’s when I knew you were my son.”

  “There’s no way in hell I’m related to you.”

  “I could be your daddy,” he said. “I bet they didn’t tell you that part, did they? I’m one of the oldest necromancers around. I knew your mother intimately.” He smacked his lips.

  “You’re lying.” The thought of the sick old letch touching my mother made the bile rise in my throat.

  He seemed delighted with my repulsion. What a dick.

  “It’s been real,” I said. “But it’s time for you to go.”

  The truth was my father could have been anybody. My mother never talked about him, wouldn’t tell me his name even when I’d asked.

  He seemed to be composing himself before he took another step and then disappeared around the corner.

  It was pretty obvious that Willow’s husband had it out for me. But why would he have wanted to kill me even before he’d married her? Before he’d even met me?

  I had some questions for my aunts. I wasn’t sure they would answer them, but it was worth a shot. They’d always danced around my father’s identity before, but I had a feeling they knew more than they were telling me. It could wait, though.

  Ambrose shoved me into his apartment and then closed the door and locked it. “Nyx, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

  I avoided his gaze. “I have no idea.”

  “Guess,” Ambrose replied through gritted teeth.

  “Runaway bride. Pissed-off necromancer would be my guess.”

  I sat at the kitchen counter while he poured me a glass of something strong. “Drink this.”

  “It smells vile,” I said.

  “It’s a curse cure,” he said. “Remember that little curse thing?”

  “I have had a few other things on my plate,” I said. My throat was swelling from Lurch’s roughhousing, but I chugged the concoction anyway. It tasted as nasty as it smelled.

  “Something more than that is going on,” he said. “But I haven’t been able to figure out what.”

  “You mean besides Willow marrying that creep to prevent more naiads from dying?” Baxter had told me Trey’s niece was the sacrificial lamb, but Ambrose’s expression confirmed it.

  I got up. “Thanks for the drink.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve got to find Willow before Danvers does,” I said.

  I figured she’d head for home, so I pointed the Caddy to the lake where we’d first met.

  Willow’s lake. She needed me and I needed to know she was safe.

  The bench felt hard and cold, despite the spring weather. Pristine blue water was unmoving and silent. Even the tadpoles were hiding.

  “Damn it, Willow! Where are you?” I said. The sound of my voice carried over the water, but there was no response. I waited, but all was still. I finally gave up and stood. A ladybug landed on my shoulder.

  I extended a finger to set the bug in flight when I saw her through the tangled moonflower vines, like a mermaid from a fairy tale, wobbly on new legs, waiting for her prince. But it was no fairy tale and there was no prince.

  “Willow?” When I got closer, I could see the blood trickling out of the corner of her mouth, her eye already turning black.

  A pattern of bruises marred her upper arms, chest, and legs. She couldn’t stop shivering. Her wedding night hadn’t been a pleasant one.

  “I’ll kill him,” I said. I took off my jacket and wrapped it around her.

  She whimpered. “You can’t.” Then, more strongly, “You won’t.”

  I was upsetting her. She didn’t have to know what I had planned for that bastard. “You’re cold,” I said. “Let me warm you up.”

  There was a vicious-looking bite mark on her neck. “Your moonstone,” I said. “It’s gone.”

  She shook her head and slowly unclenched her fist. Her fingers unfurled and then I saw her fingernails were grimy with dried blood. The gemstone was imbedded into the palm of her hand. She’d fought back, then.

  “Did he…” I started and then stopped, not sure how to say it.

  She finally met my eyes. “The marriage was not consummated.”

  “We need to get out of here,” I said.

  “He’s already been here looking for me,” Willow said. “I hid.”

  “Good.” I picked her up and carried her to the Caddy. I placed her gently in the front passenger seat and then went to the trunk for the blanket I kept there. I’d learned quickly to be prepared for Minnesota weather. It was spring, but my idea of spring was slightly different from a Minnesota native’s.

  I wrapped the blanket around her and started the car, turning the heater on full blast to warm her up. “Where to?” I asked. “One of the other lakes?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not safe,” she said. “The other naiads will just send me back.” She didn’t sound bitter that her own colony wouldn’t protect her.

  “What about someone in the House of Poseidon?”

  “There’s no one,” she said. “No one but you.”

  “He’s been to my apartment, too,” I said. “But I know a place no one will find us.”

  I’d take her to the Dead House. I’d killed a troll there. In fact, he was still there, his stone image guarding the entrance.

  The place hadn’t changed a bit. A boarded-up window hung loosely, and I put her down gently.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said. I slithered through the window and then went around and opened the back door. I carried her in and put the blanket on top of the bedroll that had been there before.

  The décor was early graffiti and beer bottles, but nobody would look for us there. “Home sweet home,” I muttered.

  I ripped the last of the healing amulets out of my jacket and used them to try to heal her, but it wasn’t enough.

  “You need a doctor,” I said. She was drifting in and out of consciousness, but she heard that.

  “No, please,” she said. “He’ll find me.”

  “I know someone who can help,” I said. “You can trust him.” That is, if I could find him.

  She was sweating and blood was still oozing from her injuries, but the spell had sent her into a healing sleep.

  “I won’t be gone long,” I said to her sleeping form. I kissed her hair gently before I left.

  I looked everywhere, but I couldn’t find Doc. I called Talbot, who gave me the address of the shelter where Doc sometimes stayed, but the doors were closed for the night.

  I didn’t want to leave Willow alone for too long, so I finally gave up the search. I stopped by a drugstore and bought some first-aid supplies before I headed back to the Dead House.

  When I crawled through the window, Willow was gasping and her blue skin had turned an unhealthy purplish color, but she was awake.

  “How long since you’ve been in the water?” I asked her. I’d found her in the shallows, but a naiad needed water like we needed air.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  There was an old trough standing in the middle of what used to be an autopsy chamber. I didn’t want to think about what used to be in it. I scared away the spiders and then chanted a spell to get it to fill with water. I placed Willow in it gently.

  She seemed a little better, but not enough. She was fading in and out again. I was starting to panic, but then I remembered we were in Minneapolis. There had to be a lake or river within spitting distance. I gathered up her wet, slippery form and ran, then told myself to calm down.

  I did a locater spell and then followed the trail of light until we came to a lake. I unceremoniously dumped her into the water and then she slowly sank out of sight.

  I waited for a long time. Was I too late? Was Willow at the bottom of the lake? Finally, there was a splash and her head broke the surface. She swam to the edge and treaded water as she watched me.

  “Thank you, son of Fortuna,” she said gravely. “You saved my life.”

/>   “I should have thought of it sooner,” I said angrily. “I almost killed you.”

  She splashed me and then giggled at the surprise on my face. “You saved me,” she repeated. “I’d almost forgotten I was a naiad. I’d become a puppet.”

  Interesting choice of words. “We should get out of here,” I said. “He’ll probably have people looking for you at the lakes and rivers.”

  We spent another day and night at the Dead House. I didn’t think about Wren, who was probably waiting for me at my apartment. I didn’t think about Elizabeth. I didn’t think about anyone except Willow.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sometime during our second night at the Dead House, Willow stole away while I slept. I waited for her for hours, but she never returned. Maybe she was somewhere in the Driftless, the watery world where I’d found Elizabeth’s brother Alex. Or maybe she’d decided to leave Minneapolis altogether. Wherever she was, I hoped she was far away from her husband. Not knowing where she was or if she was safe was taking its toll on me.

  I stopped by the Red Dragon, looking for information. It was early, so there were only a few regulars at the bar, but I was hoping I’d hear something, anything. I was nursing a glass of beer when Ambrose came in and took a seat beside me.

  “Have you heard?” he said. “There have been two more murders, both naiads.”

  I swiveled around to face him. “Why are you telling me?”

  “I thought it might stir you out of your personal pity party long enough for you to try to help those poor unfortunates,” he said. “Apparently, I was wrong.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Get off your ass,” he said.

  “I’ve got a few things on my plate,” I replied.

  He sighed. “Nyx, for an intelligent man, you are somewhat oblivious.”

  “Are you insulting me?” I took a long sip of my beer.

  “You are ignoring something that is right in front of you,” he said. “And people are dying. I am asking you for your help.”

  I felt like an ass. Ambrose had gone out of his way to be kind to me. “I’ll do what I can,” I said. “Anything I should know?”

  He hesitated. “I do not want to point fingers, but it has been said that Mr. Danvers is taking out his recent disappointment upon his runaway bride’s colony.”

  The stein shattered in my hand. “What? That’s insane.”

  “I’m afraid that describes the man rather perfectly.” He handed me a clean napkin. “You’re bleeding.”

  “I’m fine, but Danvers isn’t going to be.” I used the napkin to wipe away the blood.

  “Be careful, Nyx,” Ambrose warned. “The man is dangerous.”

  “Then why hasn’t the House of Poseidon taken care of him?” I asked. “Or the House of Hades?”

  “He’s too powerful,” Ambrose said. “And he has powerful friends.”

  “You’re telling me that Hades is okay with this?”

  “The old gods no longer exist,” Ambrose replied. “Or if they do, they’ve lost interest in the mortal world.”

  “Naiads are magical, not mortal,” I pointed out unnecessarily. “Isn’t there some sort of law about this sort of thing?”

  Now it was his turn to shrug. “As with mortal law, our laws are sometimes broken.”

  “Do you know where he lives?”

  He nodded. “One of the old houses on Summit.”

  “That surprises me,” I said. “He seemed like such a suburban douche bag. Not old magic.”

  “He’s not,” Ambrose said. “He bought it after the previous owner died under mysterious circumstances.”

  “It seems a little excessive, doesn’t it? Killing his wife’s cousins to get her to come back to him? And some of the naiad killings happened before Willow left him.”

  “Maybe he’s just a psychopath. Or maybe it’s how he forced her into marrying him.”

  “What do you know about his background? How long has he lived in Minneapolis?”

  Ambrose told me all he knew about Danvers, which wasn’t much, and then left, but not without a parting shot. “You are your mother’s son, Nyx. It’s time you started acting like it.”

  When I finally gave up waiting for Willow and headed home, Wren wasn’t at the apartment.

  I called Naomi. “Is she with you?”

  “Who?” But her careful tone told me that Wren was there, probably listening.

  “Look, I was helping a friend,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m explaining this.”

  “Maybe because you think you have something to explain.”

  “Danvers was looking for Willow,” I said.

  “I see.”

  “No, you don’t fucking see,” I said. “She’s my friend. She needed my help.”

  There was a long pause and then Wren came on the line. “Nyx?”

  “I’m sorry, Wren.”

  “I was worried about you.”

  “Willow is my friend and she was in trouble.”

  “You could have called me,” she said.

  “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.” I said it again.

  Long pause. “I think I’m going to stay at Claire’s for a few days.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is,” she replied. “At least until you figure out what you want.”

  She wanted me to say I wanted her, and part of me did. But the other part was focused on Willow.

  After Wren hung up, I stared at the walls of my apartment until I couldn’t stand it any longer.

  I drove by Danvers’s house, which was a limestone three-story mansion in the Park Avenue area. The street was known to the magical in Minneapolis as Magicians’ Row because the Houses’ upper echelon had homes there.

  His house looked like a castle or a fortress, depending on how you looked at it. I knew which way Willow saw it.

  There were a couple of kids playing on the sidewalk, but they weren’t paying any attention to me.

  I didn’t spot Danvers or Willow, but I did notice my aunt Deci walking into a lime-and-pink Victorian a few houses down.

  I watched her go in and then got out of the Caddy and went up to the kids, who were full of mischief but not a lick of magic.

  “Hey, who lives there?” I asked. I pointed to the Victorian.

  “That’s the witch’s house,” the boy said. He looked at his sister. “If you’re not careful, she’ll cook and eat you, just like in Hansel and Gretel.”

  At least he had his facts straight, but I had had no idea Danvers and Deci were next-door neighbors. How cozy.

  He glanced at the Caddy. “Nice ride.”

  The purple Caddy was too conspicuous. I handed him a ten. “Thanks. Now forget you saw it.”

  I borrowed a car and spent another afternoon following Sean Danvers around town. I’d been hunted for years by the Fates’ Tracker and I’d learned a few things.

  I didn’t see Willow, but he seemed to have a lot of time on his hands for a successful businessman. He played a couple rounds of golf while I watched him with binoculars from a distant spot where I thought I wouldn’t be noticed. I was practically asleep from boredom by the time he decided to head to the office.

  I trailed well behind him. He had an office not that far from Parsi Enterprises. I circled the block as he parked the car and entered the building.

  It was a little after sunset and decided to chance it. I said a quick obscura spell and then broke into his car. I rifled through the glove box but didn’t find anything suspicious, except that he had shit taste in music for a villain. I was expecting some soul-crunching-dark-lord type of music, but instead it had more of a suburban-mom-car-pool vibe.

  But then I found something interesting. A long flat box decorated with a familiar-looking symbol. I expected to find his athame in the box, but instead I found a robe decorated with the same symbol. The Tria Prima.

  He was a Hecate worshipper. Although technically, as the queen of necromancers, she belonged to the Hous
e of Hades, she had been booted out of the club for being naughty several thousands of years ago.

  Why had he married Willow? Someone had used dark magic to kill the naiads, which pointed straight to Danvers, but why was he killing them? His treatment of Willow made it clear he was a sadistic bastard.

  I had to stop Danvers from murdering any more naiads, even if I had to kill him to do it.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The opportunity to talk to Willow finally came when I wasn’t expecting it. I’d parked outside Danvers’s place, in a nondescript van I’d borrowed from a poker player I knew. He’d won it off a baker with a gambling problem, and it smelled yeasty, like mutant bread dough was fermenting in the back.

  Willow emerged from the house, arm in arm with Danvers. He was the picture of a loving husband, if you could forget he’d beaten her half-dead. I couldn’t.

  Lurch came out behind them. He opened the passenger door to a town car for the happy couple and then got in behind the wheel.

  He drove to a Brazilian restaurant on Hennepin. Danvers had brutally attacked Willow and now he was taking her out to lunch? I watched them enter, Lurch in tow, but stayed where I was.

  I did a quick obscura spell while I was in the van. I didn’t want to risk using magic too close to Danvers. He might pick up on it.

  I entered the restaurant unobserved. It was essentially a high-dollar steakhouse, and they would have probably refused service if they could actually see me in my worn jeans and tee and beat-up Doc Martens.

  Two mind-numbing hours went by while they dined. Willow didn’t touch her food until Danvers said something to her. Then she just pretended, putting her fork to her lips and setting it down, but it seemed to satisfy him.

  Finally, Willow got up to go to the restroom. Lurch went with her. For a second I thought he was going to follow her into the bathroom, but he waited outside.

  Her bodyguard-slash-jailer looked right through me, but I waited until a woman herding two young children opened it.