Willow stood at the sink, staring in the mirror like the person she saw was a stranger. Maybe she was. She didn’t look anything like the Willow I knew.
It felt creepy watching her when she didn’t know I was there. I waited until we were alone before I spoke. “Willow, it’s me.” I removed the spell so she could see me.
“Nyx? What do you want from me, son of Fortuna?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” I said.
“As you see, I am well,” she said.
Her eyes told a different story.
“Why did you leave without saying anything? I was worried.”
“He swore that he won’t hurt me again. He’s sorry.”
“He won’t keep that promise,” I told her.
“I know,” she said. “But would you stand idly by and let your friends get slaughtered?”
“You’re my friend,” I said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Danvers was an abusive husband. As long as Willow stayed with him, there was more than a good chance she’d end up injured or dead.
She turned and put a hand to my cheek. “I know.”
I grabbed her hand and put it to my lips. We stayed there for a long moment until she stepped away, pretending to straighten her skirt.
“Willow, why is he killing the naiads?”
She remained stubbornly silent.
“It’s important, Willow,” I said.
“Nothing is more important than keeping my people safe.”
“Please.”
She glanced around. “I am afraid I cannot help you,” she said. “You must go now.”
“I don’t want to leave you like this.”
She raised her eyes to mine. “You must. I will be fine. As long as you go now! He’ll be suspicious if I linger much longer.”
I did as she had asked, going back into stealth mode before I left. I brushed by Lurch and gave him a nasty case of adult acne.
Back at Eternity Road, I updated Ambrose. “I talked to Willow today,” I said. “I’m pretty sure the naiad murders will stop as long as she toes the line with Danvers and pretends to be his blushing bride.”
“Anything else?”
“Can you help me get Wren out of town?” I asked. “Things are heating up and I don’t want her caught in the crossfire.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“I don’t see a way around it,” I said. “She’s a distraction I can’t afford.”
“You don’t think Hecate’s daughter can protect herself?” There was a note in his voice that I didn’t like.
I frowned. “I know she’s not helpless, but she’s innocent. She’s been her mother’s prisoner for years. She helped save Claire and Naomi. I owe her.”
“And you believe in always paying your debts,” he said. “What about Hecate?”
“After Wren is safe.”
It took some persuasion, but he agreed. “I know someone who can take her to a safe house up north. It’s not a perfect solution,” he warned.
The Fates knew that Wren was Hecate’s daughter. I didn’t want her to get caught in the middle of their battle with the goddess.
We took the Caddy to Claire’s condo.
Wren answered the door. “Nyx, is something wrong?” Her hair had been cut into a sharp bob. She wore a yellow dress with a deep vee and had a sophisticated palette of makeup covered her face.
“Can you pack a bag?” I asked. “Ambrose is going to take you somewhere safe.”
“What’s going on?” She peered anxiously into my face.
“Did you know that Sean Danvers was one of your mother’s followers?” I asked.
“Willow’s husband? No, of course not,” she said. “The first time I laid eyes on him was at his wedding.”
“I need you out of the way until I can eliminate the Danvers problem.” Without her number one guy topside, Hecate would have much more difficulty keeping tabs on her daughter, and Willow would make a beautiful widow.
“Out of the way?” she replied. “I hadn’t realized I was in your way.” Her eyes clouded.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. “I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”
Ambrose cleared his throat. “I’ll give you two some privacy. Nyx, I’ll be in the car when you’re ready.”
After he left, we took seats at the opposite ends of the sofa. I wanted to say something, anything, but couldn’t get any words out.
“I’ll go pack,” Wren said. I was relieved there wasn’t going to be a great debate about it.
I paced in the living room. The front door opened and then Claire walked in. “Home sweet home,” she said. She threw her purse on a small table in the entryway.
She spotted me. “What are you doing here?”
“Wren’s leaving,” I told her.
Her face worked. “She’s going back to her mother?”
“No, why would you say that?” I asked. “A friend of Ambrose’s is going to take her somewhere safe.”
“You think you need to protect Wren? From what? Herself?”
The bitter note in her voice surprised me. “I thought you were friends.”
“I thought so, too,” Claire said. “But I was wrong.”
Wren came back carrying a small duffel. “I’m ready.” She stopped in her tracks when she saw Claire. I thought it was an odd reaction, since it was Claire’s apartment.
Claire gave her a grim smile. “Surprised to see me?”
“Of course I am,” Wren said. “I thought you said you’d be at work until late.” She held up the bag. “I borrowed this. I’m leaving Minneapolis.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Claire replied. They didn’t embrace or even say good-bye. Instead, Claire turned on her heel, went into her bedroom, and slammed the door.
“Do I have to go?” Wren asked. Her lips were trembling.
I scooted closer to embrace her. “It won’t be for long.”
“Nyx, can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m an open book.”
“Do you love me?”
Love? The answer must have been on my face. There was no good way to say it, but I cleared my throat and struggled through it manfully. “I like you.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said. “You don’t love anyone, not even yourself. Especially not yourself.”
“Wren, I…”
“It’s okay,” she assured me, but a single tear streaked her perfect makeup. “Good-bye, Nyx.” She gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek and then picked up her bag.
Ambrose’s friend, an attractive brunette about his age who wore earrings identifying her as House of Hades, was waiting with him by the car when we went down.
“This is Thea,” Ambrose said. “She’ll be escorting Wren.”
I swept Wren into a long hug, but she didn’t hug me back. She got into Thea’s waiting car without another word.
I watched the car drive away. Then I went home, had a shot or two, and sharpened my athame.
Chapter Thirty
I couldn’t concentrate. The idea that Danvers had been killing naiads just to get Willow to toe the line seemed excessive, even for a creep like him. And why kill them in such a gruesome way? Willow was a prize—beautiful, intelligent, and kind—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something.
I went downstairs to Eternity Road. I went to the top cupboard to find the bottle of absinthe I’d hidden from Talbot’s prying eyes. He hadn’t said anything, but I knew he was trying to keep track of how much of the green fairy I’d been drinking.
I sat on the desk and poured myself a healthy shot, but kept the bottle out.
It was a lot of responsibility, the weight of a prophecy on my shoulders. But it was more than that.
I heard a noise. I reached for my knife, but it was only Talbot.
“Jesus, Nyx, I almost brained you. I thought you were a burglar.”
“And I almost gutted you with my athame,?
?? I replied. “I guess we’re both on edge.”
“Want some company?” he asked.
The truth was, I didn’t, but he’d just pout if I told him to go away. “Want a drink?”
“I’ll pass,” he said.
I poured myself another shot. “Suit yourself.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Too many things to list,” I replied. “But thanks for asking.”
We sat in silence for a minute.
“What are you still doing here on a Friday night?”
Talbot tried not to look like he was moping. “Nothing else to do. Naomi has a family thing.”
I wasn’t surprised I hadn’t been invited.
“I need your help with something,” I said. “I’m looking for a book. A really rare one.”
“Rarer than what we usually carry in the store?”
I nodded.
“Not sure that’s possible,” he said. “Did you check Dad’s shelves?” Ambrose had a collection of books in his office.
“I’ve already been through them,” I said. “I want to read up on Hecate. Not the bullshit that everyone knows.”
“Let’s look in the storage unit.”
“It’s worth a shot,” I replied.
I grabbed the bottle and followed him down to the basement, where Ambrose kept extra stock. The room was crammed full of interesting bits and pieces.
“What do you know about Hecate’s followers?” I finally asked.
“That’s what has you sitting alone in the dark?”
“Among other things.”
“They’re a bad bunch,” he said. “Witches, demons, and necromancers.”
“Naomi’s a witch,” I pointed out.
“She is,” he said. “She’s also a Fate.”
“Which is worse,” I replied.
“Nyx, cut it out,” he said. “I know exactly who Naomi is and I love her just the way she is.”
Love? They’d gotten serious pretty quickly, but then again, who was I to talk? I’d been lonely for hundreds of years. Maybe that’s why I jumped in with both feet now.
We spent an hour sorting through boxes. “Someone should really inventory this mess,” I said.
“Bite your tongue,” Talbot replied. “Don’t even mention it or Dad will have us down here every Saturday. We’d never see the light of day again.”
I returned my attention to the box in front of me. “Why do you think he keeps all this stuff?”
“Maybe because he’s a born pack rat,” Talbot said. “Or maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
“Some of it was my mom’s,” Talbot said slowly.
My head snapped up. He’d never mentioned his mother before. “What happened to her?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “As far as I know, she’s living in Des Moines with her new, nonmagical family.”
“She couldn’t cut it?”
“She didn’t want to.” He slammed his book closed with more force than necessary. “There are a couple of boxes in the corner. I’ll look there.”
He got up and went behind an enormous antique armoire, which blocked my view of him. I waited, but he didn’t return. I assumed the mention of his mother had upset him more than he’d shown.
I returned to the search but came up empty-handed.
“Nyx, come here! I found something interesting,” Talbot said. I squeezed around the armoire, and he held up a tattered book. I peered at the title. THE QUEEN OF THE UNDERWORLD was stamped in ornate black lettering on its cover.
Talbot had been using his finger as a placeholder and flipped back to the page he’d been reading. “It says here that Hecate’s followers dabbled with black magic.”
“We already know that,” I said.
“Yes, but did you know that they experimented in malicious possession?”
I leaned against the armoire and studied my friend. “You think the naiads were possessed and then someone killed them?”
“I think the naiads were possessed and that’s what killed them,” he clarified.
“Why didn’t any of the other Houses recognize the signs of a possession?”
“Because death by internal explosion isn’t a common sign,” he replied. “Normally, a demon taking up real estate in your body would result in more typical indications.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I can only find one historical reference to a possession resulting in something similar to what we’ve seen with the naiads. There’s a mention of a siren in Crete who was possessed by the goddess Apate. It says here that the possession lasted an hour or so before the siren spewed all over the place and then went off like a bomb.”
“Let’s find your dad,” I said. “Bring the book.”
*
Ambrose was at home, sitting on the couch with his feet up, smoking a cigar.
“Danvers is looking for a vessel,” I said. I pointed to the page in the book. It was a tiny mention, but it was all we had to go on.
“A vessel? What kind of a vessel? What does he want to use it for?”
“A vessel like a young naiad,” I replied. “And he wants to put Hecate’s soul in it. That’s why the naiads look like they exploded. He can’t find anyone to contain her.”
Hecate’s physical form was trapped in the underworld, so she and Danvers were trying something else.
“We have to stop them,” Ambrose said. “I have to let Trey know. He’ll convene the Houses.”
“I need to get Willow out of his house,” I said.
“You can’t think Danvers would use his own wife,” Ambrose said, shocked.
“Would you really put it past him?”
“Let me speak to Trey first,” he replied. “Then we’ll rescue the naiad.”
He went into the bedroom to make the call, but returned a short time later. His eyes were silverlight.
“Willow and Danvers are on their honeymoon,” he said. “They’ve left Minneapolis for an undisclosed location.”
“We have to do something,” I said.
“Trey has had someone following Willow since the incident,” Ambrose said.
“The incident? Oh, you mean when Danvers beat her half to death?” I replied sarcastically. I threw my glass across the room and it shattered against the wall.
Ambrose stalked toward me, and I thought he might take a swing at me, but he only laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Steady, Nyx,” he said. “Trey will find her. The House of Poseidon won’t abandon one of their own.”
“What was it like before when Hecate was free?” I asked.
*
Talbot and I dragged a likely box of books back to my place. I cracked open a couple of beers instead of any more absinthe.
It was almost dawn by the time we finished with the last book, but we weren’t able to glean any more information. My eyes had begun to blur as the words danced upon the page.
“I’m done in,” I said. “Want to crash here?”
His apartment was only across the hall, but he looked wiped out. Besides, since Wren left, my place felt bigger and emptier than usual.
He nodded. “Thanks, I could use some sleep.”
“Naomi keeping you out late?” I teased him.
He raised an eyebrow. “No, my best friend is an insomniac.”
It was true. I hadn’t been sleeping much since Elizabeth had left me. I’d close my eyes and her ruined face would appear. Not even sex with Wren could blot out the vision completely, and now Wren was gone, too.
I tossed him a blanket. “I might not see you in the morning. I’m heading to Zora’s to ask Jenny a few questions about Danvers.”
“Jenny?” Talbot replied. “She hates the sight of you.”
“True, but maybe she’ll let something slip,” I said.
“Maybe,” he said. “Like a knife into your gullet.”
Chapter Thirty-One
When I arrived at Zora’s, the door was ajar, so I stepped inside. The store was empty. Strange at this ti
me of day. It was a warm day and the air was fetid.
“Jenny?”
I smelled the blood even before I saw her. She was lying like a discarded doll on the floor behind the cash register. Wraith bites covered her body and her head had been bashed in.
Reflexively, I bent down to touch her neck for a pulse. She was cold and my hand came away sticky. Her hands were curled into fists. I gently unfurled them. Her nails were bloody and broken. She’d fought hard and tiny silver fibers clung to her fingernails. She’d been tortured before she’d been murdered.
There was something in her mouth. I pried it open as gently as I could. It was one of the gold doubloons I’d paid her for the harpies.
I searched the rest of the store, but didn’t find any other clues. I had to get out of there before the cops showed up, but something made me check the back room.
From the smell, she hadn’t cleaned the place since I’d taken the harpies. It was more than just a coincidence that my coin ended up in her mouth. It was a message from Danvers not to fuck with him. Danvers had been a busy man, beating Willow, killing females, and generally being a dick.
I needed to talk to my aunts.
I made it in record time to Parsi Enterprises. I had a sweet Caddy, and I was picky about where I parked her. Luckily, Deci’s parking spot was open, so I took that and then muttered a quick prayer to the parking gods that she wouldn’t try to have it towed. The tow-truck driver would get a nasty surprise.
I didn’t bother to mess with Trevor, just muttered, “I need to see my aunts. Now,” and then went down the hall before he could say anything.
I burst into Morta’s office without knocking. “Danvers killed Jenny,” I said without waiting for the We want to kill you, nephew dear that usually started and ended our conversations. “And I think it’s because she gave me the harpies.”
She’d been reading a contract, with her shoes off and her feet propped up on the desk, but she put her legs down and slipped on her shoes as soon as she saw me. A pair of bifocals had been perched on her nose, but she removed them. Morta didn’t like to show any sign of weakness.
“Nyx, calm down,” she said. “Why do you think it was Danvers?”
“It takes a necromancer to command a wraith,” I said. “And didn’t you get rid of all the other necromancers in Minneapolis?”