Fortune's Favors Page 7

  I touched the silver chain that always hung around my neck. I’d found a black cat carved from Indian ebony, a little coral fish, an emerald frog, a diamond-studded key, and a horseshoe made of moonstones. There were two missing: the miniature book and an ivory wheel of fortune.

  I was halfway into my shift when Luke Seren sent a message to Ambrose that he wanted to meet with me. I wasn’t sure why Luke hadn’t sent it to me directly, but I was relieved to get a response.

  “What does that mean?” I asked Ambrose.

  “He’s considering his options,” he said.

  “What do you know about Luke?” I asked. Ambrose knew everyone in town worth knowing and a few people everyone wished they didn’t know.

  “Political,” Ambrose replied. “There’s been a power play from occasional challengers to his position and he’s managed to come out on top.”

  “Ruthless?”

  “He meets the very definition,” Ambrose said. “But we desperately need allies and many in the Houses are scared of defying Hecate.”

  “But he’s not?”

  “Afraid? No. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t switch sides in the blink of an eye if it suited him.”

  “So you don’t trust him?”

  Ambrose shook his head. “I don’t. But we need him if we want the House of Zeus on our side.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “But the slaughter at the wilderness center has Luke spooked. What can you tell me about the structure of the Houses?”

  “I see you’re prepping for this meeting with Luke,” he replied.

  “It certainly got me thinking,” I told him.

  “That’s a nice change of pace,” Talbot said.

  “Very funny,” I said.

  Ambrose ignored us. “There’s a leader in each House,” he said. “The position is often hereditary, but not always.”

  “How is a new leader chosen when one dies?”

  “There’s a vote,” he said. “There was a vote called already, but the House of Hades is giving their candidates a month to campaign. It’s like a local election.”

  “I read about all that,” I said. The books I had at the apartment told me a few things about the history of the Houses, but pretty much stopped in the fifties. The eighteen fifties. “What can you tell me about the contenders for the head of House of Hades?”

  “There’s Danvers,” Ambrose said. “But his ill health is making the members nervous about backing him. There’s a young guy named Johnny Asari, who says he’s a direct descendant of Osiris.”

  “The Egyptian god of the dead?” I asked skeptically.

  “A lot of people are buying it,” Ambrose said.

  “Johnny Asari is a dick,” Talbot said helpfully. “He was at college the same time as me, but he pledged a different frat.”

  “Anybody else?”

  Ambrose looked at me like he was deciding something. “There’s a rumor floating around that the son of Hades is in town.”

  “The son of Hades has no interest in becoming a leader of a magical House,” I said evenly. “But maybe his half sister is up for the task.”

  The conversation ended without us coming to any conclusions. I met Luke at the Bean Factory in St. Paul, which was the location he’d chosen. It was a little out of the way for me, which is probably why he’d chosen it.

  Luke was already there when I arrived. I ordered a red-eye and then joined him.

  “Thank you for meeting me,” I said.

  “I hear you captured a chimera,” he said.

  “You’re well informed,” I said.

  He preened, taking my comment as a compliment, which wasn’t necessarily the way I’d intended it. I didn’t like people knowing my business.

  “I am,” he said. “I have to be if I want to stay on top.”

  I studied him as he sipped his tea. What would he do to stay on top? Luke Seren was drawn to power, but there were thousands of ambitious magicians in the Twin Cities.

  He had a tiny scar near the open V of his shirt and another on the palm of his hand. On closer inspection, it looked like his missing finger had been removed with a knife.

  He noticed my stare. “Hunting knife. Childhood game gone awry,” he said. His tone was light, but the expression on his face forbade further inquiries.

  “I was hoping that you would lend your support,” I said. “Hecate has some running scared.”

  Luke gave me an appraising look. “You are impetuous,” he said. “Many in the Houses believe your impetuous nature will get you killed.”

  “I’ve been dead before,” I said.

  “Impetuous and cocky,” he said. “Why would I want to support you? It’s common knowledge that you and your aunts don’t get along, you’ve managed to wreak a considerable amount of havoc in the short time you’ve been in Minneapolis, and you set free a vengeful goddess.”

  Everything he said was true. “Yet you’re still here,” I said. Luke Seren was a hard man, despite his courtly air with the ladies.

  He seemed to come to a decision. “You are also the son of Fortuna,” he said. “And I feel the need to have some luck on my side right now. I will help you.”

  “What about the other Houses?”

  “Trey Marin seems impressed with you,” he replied. “Which means you have the House of Poseidon and the House of Zeus on your side.” He kept his eyes on his teacup.

  “I’ve never met the leader of the House of Hades,” I said.

  He glanced up swiftly. “The House of Hades is currently without a leader,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “A sudden illness,” he replied. “Alzezar was very old. Most people had forgotten about him. There is a faction that wants to bring Danvers into power.”

  “That psycho? He’s in no condition to lead anyone,” I said.

  Luke Seren smiled. “Thanks to you.”

  We shook hands. I was satisfied that Luke Seren would be our ally, but discomfited by the notion that my new friend had an ulterior motive.

  Outside, I came face-to-face with my cousins and sister.

  “Nyx, what are you doing here?” Naomi asked.

  Had they been following me? I glanced at my sister, but she looked away. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “We,” Claire said gaily, “have been shopping.” She held up multiple bags as proof.

  “Were you in the Bean Factory?” I asked.

  “I told you he was suspicious,” Naomi said to Rebecca. The three of them giggled madly, like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

  It wasn’t an answer.

  “We were going to stop for coffee,” Rebecca said, after she finally stopped laughing. “Want to join us?”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” Naomi said. “You can fill us in on your meeting with Luke Seren.”

  “Shopping, my ass,” I said.

  They laughed again, but I held the door to the coffee shop open for them anyway.

  They were Fates-in-training. They couldn’t help snooping.

  We ordered coffees and pastries and grabbed a table.

  “Before I forget,” I said to Naomi. I reached in my pocket and offered her the photo I’d found in Sawyer’s things.

  “I found this in one of your dad’s books,” I said. “I know Sawyer would want you to have it.” He wouldn’t shut up about it, in fact.

  I held it out, but she didn’t take it. Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”

  “I—I just assumed,” I stammered. Now was not the time to tell her that I was having daily chats with her dead father.

  She accepted the photo and stared down at it. “Thank you.”

  I thought the time might be right to put in a word for my best friend, who was pining for my cousin. “When are you going to forgive Talbot?” I asked Naomi.

  “Eventually.”

  “He didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. “Except having poor taste in friends. You shouldn’t punish him for my actions.”

  “That�
�s not what I’m doing.”

  “Isn’t it? You’re punishing him for being loyal, but that’s a good quality.”

  “You’ve made your case,” Naomi said. “Now tell us what happened with Luke Seren.”

  She obviously didn’t want to talk about Talbot, so I filled them on my meeting until the order arrived.

  Claire and Rebecca went to get our food at the pickup window. I took the opportunity to grill Naomi.

  “So what’s the real reason for the sudden thaw?” I asked.

  She avoided my gaze. “No reason.”

  “Naomi, tell me the truth.”

  She looked up. “It turns out”—she gulped—“that you were right about Aunt Deci. The aunts found out she’d been in league with Danvers for years.”

  Danvers and, by association, the Fates’ mortal enemy, Hecate.

  “How’s Rebecca taking it?”

  She shrugged. “Badly, but she promised to give you a chance.”

  Rebecca and Claire came back with two trays piled with food.

  “Elixir of the gods,” Claire said after she took a long sip of her iced coffee.

  “Not exactly,” I said wryly.

  Naomi frowned. “The aunts aren’t manufacturing that anymore.”

  She made it sound like they’d had a choice. The recipe for the elixir was gone, and if I had anything to say about it, it would stay that way. But thinking about elixir had reminded me of something I’d read recently.

  “Nyx, are you okay?”

  “Just thinking about something.” I’d read about a necromancer who had used an elixir of some kind to reverse the possession. What if the Fates had done the same thing, only using the rare and powerful black asphodel?

  I knew how the Fates did it. I knew how to save Willow. The hard part would be finding the elusive black asphodel. “You don’t happen to know where I can get a dozen black asphodel flowers, do you?” I asked.

  “What?” Claire said, confused.

  “Doesn’t exist anymore,” Naomi replied.

  There was a flicker of something in Rebecca’s eyes, but when I stared at her, she looked away. Whatever she knew, my sister wasn’t going to share with me.

  “I can ask Mom, if you want,” Naomi volunteered.

  “That’s okay,” I said. Rebecca knew something and Sawyer had mentioned that Deci had come up with the solution. I needed to make a visit to Deci’s, but I didn’t want to advertise the fact.

  Chapter Thirteen

  My conversation with the junior Fates had shaken something loose from my brain. The next morning, I stopped at Hell’s Belles for a couple of black coffees and eggs and bacon to go.

  I woke Talbot up, but handed him one of the coffees. “I brought breakfast.”

  “Nyx, it’s six a.m.,” he groaned. He took a sip of coffee with his eyes still closed. “You better have remembered the biscuits.”

  I handed him a container. “Gravy’s in the bag.”

  We munched silently.

  “We’re going to break into Deci’s house,” I said.

  “Bad idea, Nyx,” Talbot said.

  “Do you have a better one?”

  “No,” Talbot admitted.

  “It’s my only lead to find the black asphodel,” I said.

  “The Fates will be pissed,” Talbot said.

  “You’re right,” I said. “But what they don’t know won’t hurt me.” It was empty. Yesterday, Rebecca had mentioned she was staying with Claire.

  We took the Caddy to Magician’s Row, the street where Minneapolis’s most prominent magical lived.

  Deci had been Danvers’s neighbor. Danvers’s house was a fortress, but the place looked abandoned. I parked and approached the house. Someone had thrown a rock through the front window and shards of glass still lay on the grass. The door hung drunkenly on its hinges. I peered inside.

  Even his henchman Lurch had deserted the premises, but the inside was worse than the outside. The place had been tossed.

  Next door, Deci’s lime and pink Victorian looked just as empty, but someone, probably Rebecca, had picked up the mail and watered the lawn. There were new wards on the front door.

  “Let’s try the back,” Talbot suggested.

  The back door was ajar.

  The kitchen was empty, but I heard a faint sound from somewhere in the house. The sound was louder when we walked down the hallway.

  “Someone’s here,” Talbot said.

  I nodded and drew my athame, but wasn’t prepared to see Rebecca on her hands and knees, sobbing as she scrubbed her mother’s blood out of the floral carpet. I tried not to look at the rust-colored stain.

  She jumped to her feet and had a weapon in her hand lightning fast. This time, it was a mop handle. “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” I repeated her question back at her.

  “What’s it look like?” she snapped. “Cleaning up a murder scene.”

  I flinched. “It was self-defense.”

  “Yeah, that’s what you said.” Her voice was emotionless, but there were still tears on her eyelashes.

  I didn’t want to leave her alone, but her glare told me she didn’t welcome company.

  “I hate to ask, but can you help me with something?”

  “If you hate to ask, then why are you?” she asked.

  I turned to leave, but she stopped me. “Just tell me what you want.”

  “Is it all right with you if we search the house?”

  She gave me a weary look. “Why don’t you try telling me the truth for a change?”

  “It takes two,” I snapped.

  She shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know where I can find black asphodel,” I said. “It’s the only way I can reverse the possession and save Willow before Hecate destroys her. I know Deci used an elixir of black asphodel last time the Fates trapped Hecate.”

  “Our father gave the flowers to her,” Rebecca said. “Ask him.”

  “Doc’s missing,” I said. My research had led me right back to Doc. My father had been a badass in his time, although if legend was true, kind of creepy. Books on mythology were filled with stories of him, and not much of it was good. Nothing I read revealed the way into Asphodel. Other than death, that was.

  “We’re screwed,” Talbot said.

  “Not necessarily,” I said.

  Rebecca frowned. “That’s all I know, I swear.”

  “I mean we can find the place they grow. My mother once said that black asphodel grows only one place, a place she could never go again.”

  “I’ve been here almost every day and I haven’t found anything about the flowers, but you’re welcome to look.”

  “You grew up in this house?”

  “Yes, of course I did,” she said.

  “Have you been in the basement?” I asked Rebecca. I repressed a shudder. It had been filled with wraiths the last time I was there.

  “No,” she said. “Didn’t have any reason to. There’s just a bunch of old junk stored down there.”

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  Rebecca stayed upstairs while Talbot and I headed for the basement. It was ill-lit, damp, and full of canned goods, but I had a feeling we’d find a clue about the location of the asphodel. Instead, we found Danvers slumped over in his wheelchair.

  He didn’t move when we entered the basement. “Is he dead?” Talbot asked.

  I reached out for his wrist to check, but a bony claw clamped around my arm. “You did this to me,” Danvers croaked.

  He was barely recognizable. The curse had aged him. His good looks had disappeared along with his tan. He now resembled a white grub.

  I’d been nearly dead when I’d cursed him, but it had taken hold. His skin was mottled red in some places, black in others. One of his hands had twisted into itself and lay useless at his side. He looked worse than when I’d seen him hovering at the gate of the underworld.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  �
�No reason,” he said, but he avoided looking at a garish cookie jar, which was sitting just out of reach on the metal shelf.

  “Did you have your hands in my aunt’s cookie jar?” I asked.

  He glared at me.

  “How did he manage to get down here without anyone seeing him?” Talbot asked.

  “And the stairs from the kitchen are steep. It would be hard to manage in a wheelchair, unless…”

  “Unless what?” Danvers snarled. “You’re the reason I’m in this chair.”

  “Unless you knew of another way,” I said. “A secret tunnel, perhaps.”

  I opened the cookie jar. There was a house key on a metal infinity keychain.

  “Wrong as usual,” Danvers cackled.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” I said. He was transfixed by the key in my hand. He wanted it for some reason. And if Danvers wanted it, so did I.

  I put it in my pocket. I was almost certain it was what Danvers had come to find. That still didn’t explain how he’d gotten into my aunt’s house undetected.

  The basement was lit by one lonely bulb. I couldn’t help but wonder if a wraith was going to jump out at us, but there were only cobwebs in the corners. Except for one corner, which seemed remarkably free of spiderwebs and dust.

  I leaned one arm against a loose brick in the wall.

  Danvers snickered when nothing happened. He was several inches shorter than I was and the curse had shrunk him even more.

  I pressed again, this time lower, and was gratified by the sound of gears grinding.

  “Wonder where this leads?” I asked Talbot casually.

  He glanced back at Danvers. “What are we going to do with him?”

  “We need to stash him somewhere for a while,” I said. “I’m sure his blushing bride would like to spend some quality time with him.”

  The curse had turned Danvers’s malevolent magic inward. From what I could tell, he didn’t have any magic left. He was helpless. I didn’t feel sorry for him. He’d beaten Willow, allowed Hecate to possess his wife, killed over a dozen naiads, and wore loud golf shirts.

  “As much as I would like to kill him,” I said, “I’m not going to.” I had to hold on to the hope that Willow would make it out of Hecate’s possession alive, which meant I’d leave Danvers still breathing long enough for her to decide what to do with him. After I got a few answers.