“Your own well-being aside, you are a potential liability, Enforcer.” That made me sit up. “You were attacked in your home with magic, an attack that may have triggered more magic in Gee DiMercy to attack you. Until the spells targeting you are dealt with, you’re a possible liability around all things magical.”
“And how is that gonna bedealt with?” I asked, heat in my tone.
“Leo has contacted Molly Everhart Trueblood to check you out when they get there.” His voice lightened when he added, “And he offered a very nice fee for her professional services.”
“Oh.” I sat back. “Okay. That works.”
“But you aren’t totally off the hook,” Bruiser said. Eli’s eyes tightened and he was eating with practiced, mechanical motions “I have already reported to Leo and, once the imprisoned Mithran is retrieved and safe, Leo wants you involved in the investigation, in your official capacity.”
Official capacity meant my Enforcer capacity, which was why he was sounding so formal. Enforcer was a job I had taken by accident and then accepted for real, not because I liked Leo, but because regular income was important, vamp money was good, I got to learn new stuff about the supernatural world, got time to build my business, got to stay close to the Cherokee Elder who was teaching me about myself and my long-forgotten past, and I got to stay in New Orleans near my... well... near my boyfriend, or whatever the proper term was for the almost-relationship that Bruiser and I had. But mostly because I was in aposition to help my witch friends stay safe; making sure the Witch Conclave went off without a hitch was a big part of that.
Official capacity also meant that I’d be enforcing Leo’s will on whoever had put Ming in a hole in the ground. I’d be executioner, if that was called for. Not my favorite part of the job, but I was good at it. Very good. Usually. I slid my fingers against the scar tissue in my side. It was less ropy and stiff and far less painful. Even when keeping Beast down, as Beta, I healed faster than any human.
Bruiser said, “Once we get the pit drained and Ming of Mearkanis to safety, you’ll need to bring Yellowrock Securities and work up the pit.”
“Oh, hell,” Eli muttered.
“Happy, happy, joy, joy,” I said, knowing my sarcasm was transmitted over the cell. We’d be looking for clues to the witchy, Mithran, or human person or persons who took her, standing knee deep in mud and muck and mosquitoes.
Small biting things. Hard to catch,my Beast thought. I didn’t respond, rolling up a slice of ham and chewing it.
Alex, the electronics whiz part of our team, opened another one of the tablets on the table and created a file to take notes in, typing in the location and what little information we had. “Okay,” I said to Bruiser. “What else do you know so far?”
“According to the photos I’m texting you, the hole she’s in is beneath a rough-cut wooden trapdoor set directly into the ground and covered with leaves. I think the Mithran is chained with silver to a cement wall set in the mud. From the scent, the skeletal remains of humans are in there with her, and if it’s Ming, it’s possibly her blood-servants, Benjamin and Riccard. The water table is so high that the pit is almost full of swamp water. There’s no power to the site, no easy access in, despite the roads that border it and the rutted one that bisects it. We have to bring in massive amounts of pump machinery, generators, fuel to run them, and lights to work by, shovels, tools to break the chains. Maybe wood to shore up the pit,” he added.
Pits didn’t last long in a swamp. They filled up with mud and debris and water. Hungry vamps tended to go psycho fast, so the rescuers would need some kind of cage to secure the vamp. This was looking like a long process. I studied the sat map, tracing with a finger where Bruiser said the pit was. Mouth full, Alex nodded to show he agreed with the location.
Bruiser said, “The small patch of land centered with the pit had a dozen dead crows on it when I got there.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but if I was a witch, I’d be thinking about omens and such. Demons. Bad stuff. “Okay.”
“This will not be easy, love,” Bruiser said, his nearly forgotten British accent creeping in. “I’ll call when we get the pit drained and the Mithran out. It may take two nights.”
Two nights, because vamps catch on fire in the sunlight, so once they got the wooden doors open, they could work only at night, not by day. In the background I heard the unambiguous whine of a helicopter. Bruiser was being flown out, or the other two Onorios were being heloed in. I leaned in to the satellite map, looking for a landing site near the wildlife sanctuary. The most I saw was a muddy turnaround in the middle of the property where the two-rut dirt and mud road crossed it.
“Leo wants you at the Council Chambers to evaluate our photographs when we get the pit open. I’ll call when we get to within half an hour of opening the site so you don’t have to sit around waiting. Try not to irritate him too much. The possibility of finding Ming of Mearkanis has kept him up all day and put him in a mood. He might hurt you.”
I had a feeling thata moodwas a big understatement. “He could try. Maybe a little bloodletting would be good for his soul.”If he had a soul.Thought not spoken. Go, me.
“Send the coordinates and photographs as you get them,” Eli added.
“Of course. Take care of her.” Bruiser ended the call.
Take care of her. I smiled and ate some of the Kid’s broccoli casserole. I was better suited to taking care of myself than Eli was, him being human and therefore easierto damage—usually—but it was sweet. And I was learning to like sweet. The casserole wasn’t bad and I said so. The nineteen-year-old grinned and served himself another portion.
Eli patted his lips delicately and said, “Adding an investigation on top of finishing the security arrangements for the Witch Conclave means our schedule will be full. Leo likes pushing you to the edge, keeping his Enforcer busy.” He didn’t have to add,And this time you’re injured.
“Yeah.” With Bruiser gone I might as well work. Not that I got paid extra for the longer hours. Months ago, I had negotiated a contract with Leo at a flat rate plus the Youngers’ salaries and equipment costs. Of course, that flat rate was fairly hefty. “If we need help, pick out somebody, preferably two of Derek’s people, one with law enforcement and one with crime scene experience, to assist at the pit,” I said. “And it looks like I’ll be able to join you at the Elms, after all.”
“Good,” Eli said.
“You both stink,” Alex said, his tone smug. “Go take showers or I’ll put you on veggies and meat for a week.” Alex had been having hygiene issues, and food was the easiest way to get him to comply. It clearly made him happy to accuse us of the same flaw.
“Showers and change,” Eli said. “We leave in thirty.”
CHAPTER 6
Uncle Sam–Mandated GPS
