Dark Descent - [Nyx Fortuna 02] (17 page)

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.”

When I arrived at Zora’s, the door was ajar, so I stepped inside. The store was empty. Strange at this time 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?”

“Most of them,” she admitted. “I’m beginning to think we got rid of the wrong ones, though.” She stared out her window. “A necromancer isn’t the only one who can command wraiths.”

“You mean Hecate,” I said.

“Or Hecate’s daughter,” she replied. She raised an eyebrow. “Any witch worth her salt who is willing to dabble in black magic could do it.”

“Wren isn’t in collusion with her mother,” I said. “She’s one of her victims.”

“You have a tender heart,” she said. “It’s not an attractive quality.”

We had bigger problems than a petty family squabble, so I ignored her last comment.

“Danvers said he could be my father,” I said.

“And that would bother you?” she replied. Only a Fate would ask if it would bother me if my father were an evil psychopath.

“Yes, it would bother me. Is it true?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine my gentle mother with Sean Danvers.

She gave me a long look. “Could he be your father? I have no idea.”

She hadn’t exactly answered my question, so I tried again. “Is he my father?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes,” I cried. “It matters very much whether or not that slimeball is my father.”

“He is not your father,” she finally said.

“But you know who is?”

She didn’t say anything so I pressed her. “There’s a story there, I know it,” I said. “He hates me.”

“You did sleep with his bride,” she pointed out.

“Before she even met him,” I argued. “Dislike, I could understand, but the guy wants to tear out my heart and roast it on a spit.”

“I understand how he feels,” she murmured. “You can be most annoying.”

“I get that a lot.” It was the same song, different verse. Annoying, scourge of the world, yada yada. But sometimes, a rare sometimes, Morta would look at me with a glimmer of affection in those stony eyes of hers.

I took a step closer to her. “Are you going to tell me anything or not?”

“It’s in the past. It hardly matters now.”

“The past is the only thing that does matter,” I said.

“You feel that way now,” she said. “But eventually you have to let go of the past.”

I snorted. “Like you have?”

She met my eyes. “I have changed.”

“Nobody ever changes,” I said. “They just get better at hiding who they are.”

“I wouldn’t put much trust in anything Danvers has to say,” she continued.

“I thought you were going to go into business together,” I said.

“He wanted to,” she said. “I did not.”

“Why not?”

“Because he is a necromancer and I am a Fate. I have standards. Besides, I find him utterly repellent.”

“He wanted your secret recipe,” I said. “Ambrosia would be dangerous in the hands of a necromancer.” I gave her a stern glance. “Or anybody else.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “If we avoided everything in life that is dangerous, we wouldn’t have anything to do.”

“Maybe that would be a good thing,” I said.

“You have no concept of what the world would be like without the Fates,” she said, “or you wouldn’t say that.”

I met her eyes. “I have a pretty good idea of what life is like
with
them,” I said. “And if I had my druthers…”

She gave a curt nod. “But you do not.”

The room was still. Finally, I inhaled, which sounded unnaturally loud in the room. “Would you tell me who my father is if you knew?”

“No,” she replied.

“Do you know who my father is?”

“Maybe,” she said. “But that is a story for another time. I have a meeting in exactly two minutes, and I have given you more time than I can spare.”

In other words,
Get the hell out of my office
. When I left, Trevor was loitering in the hallway.

“Lost your way to your desk again?”

He glared at me but headed to the front. The receptionist was either the nosiest guy ever and was trolling for juicy gossip or Morta had a spy in her midst, but solving commercial espionage wasn’t at the top of my to-do list, so I let it slide.