“That can wait.”
“The fuck it can.”
Lou held up his phone, displaying the text with the list of locations. “If this plot is really as widespread as I suspect it is, the entire city is in danger. Do you understand?”
“Do you understand that there’s a very scary but hot faerie guy who will turn me into a bunch of damn daisies if I don’t do what his boyfriend says?”
“The brain of Talos is clearly part of their plan,” Sariel added. “While I understand we may not have much time, locating the brain should remain a priority.”
“Fine.” Lou huffed. “But you report to me. Not Mr. Heiss.”
“Does this mean I get your phone number now, big guy?” Seymour smirked. “Whatever will Neil say?”
“Sariel can contact me.”
“Fine. I like blonds better anyway.”
“Save the jokes. Myrna was able to translate part of the music.”
Seymour made a face. “Why do I get the feelin’ it wasn’t about rock and rollin’ all night and partyin’ every day?”
“Because it’s a song for anyone without mortal blood,” Myrna said with a mournful pout. “It is for those who walk the Terrestrial, fly within the Celestial, dance deep in the Ethereal, and float through the Other.”
“In English?”
“The music is meant to targetmonsters.”
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
So.” Seymour swallowed hard. “That’s bad.”
“No shit,” Lou grumbled.
There was a hiss, like air rushing out of a tire or a snake preparing to strike, and Mr. Heiss appeared.
Fuckin’ hell.
Because what they really needed right now was a gigantic demonic asshole.
Mr. Heiss scanned the area, taking in the petrified troll, Sariel cuddled up with Seymour, and the blood. He sneered and snapped his fingers, pulling at something invisible in the air. “Sariel. Come here.”
Sariel jerked, his collar appearing as a thin, translucent chain grew taut. The other end definitely led to Mr. Heiss. “Yes, master.” He left Seymour with his head bowed low, obediently walking over.
Mr. Heiss grabbed Sariel’s jaw and turned his head this way and that. He didn’t seem to be happy with what he saw, perhaps able to see beneath Sariel’s human disguise, because he suddenly snarled, “What in the actualfuck? What happened to you?”
Lou scoffed. “What the fuck do you think? It’s theribelli. They have a squonk running around, posing as us and planting these beacons in multiple monster establishments.”
Dagobert wiggled the crystal, and he still appeared as if he’d rather be holding anything else.
Day growled softly, but she stayed plastered against Seymour’s side as she glared at Mr. Heiss. “Can I eat him?”
“Not right now,” Seymour whispered. “Too many witnesses.”
Mr. Heiss frowned. “Beacons? For what purpose?”
“To potentially broadcast music written with the Wine of Silvertongue that targets monsters,” Lou replied shortly. “We have a list of other locations to check, but trust me that this plot is as massive as it is potentially devastating.”
