Police have been unable to locate Zywarski for questioning. Bellinowski was a known member of the Chicago beer gang engaged in a feud with the Cicero syndicate. He was born in…
CICERO CABARET AND GAMBLING HALL DESTROYED IN FIVE-ALARM FIRE; 8 DEAD
Sources Believe Retaliation for Bellinowski Death to Blame
A cabaret and gambling hall owned by Isabella Fabiano burned to the ground last night. Eight people, four pairs of witches and familiars, are thought to have perished in the blaze. Fabiano is thought to have escaped, but has not been seen since. According to an informant who asked not to be identified, the destruction came as a direct result of yesterday’s murder of Eddie Bellinowski of the Chicago beer gang. The dead are as follows…
22
“This is too much!” Holly yelled as Sam walked into The Pride.
Two weeks had passed since Opal’s unwelcome visit. She’d called daily, first from the hotel to complain about everything from the bed linens to the bellhops, then from Gatesville once she returned home.
He put her off as best he could, begging for time. He’d been working almost non-stop on the resurrection hex since his meeting with Sullivan, both alone and with Doc. An entire ritual would be required to activate it, rather than just a phrase, and Doc had been instrumental in piecing it together from various sources scattered throughout the dead pharaoh’s possessions. Still, they were missing the key to unlocking the hex inscribed on the Aten Disc. Without that, they had nothing.
But today, Doc called to say he was delayed for a couple of hours. Even though Sam and Alistair were sleeping in the same bed, they’d otherwise been passing like ships in the night, and he missed his boyfriend. He decided to ask Paladino to drive him to The Pride, come inside with him for a drink, and take him back when it was time to meet with Doc. This way, he could snatch a few moments with Alistair, even if just over a quick dinner.
Instead, they walked into the middle of a heated argument. Holly stood glaring at Wanda in the middle of the empty dance floor, her hands clenched by her sides. The few customers who’d come in to get an early start on their drinking stared with open curiosity.
Paladino stiffened behind Sam, ready for trouble, but then relaxed when Wanda said, “This isn’t the place to argue, songbird. Come in the back, and we can talk about it.”
Holly looked around—and spotted Sam. “Tell her, Sam. We’d be better off?—”
“Holly,” Wanda snapped. “In my office. Now.”
Holly tossed her head and marched toward the back. Sam sighed—it didn’t look like he was going to get the chance to spend time with Alistair after all. “Get a drink and a good dinner,” he told Paladino. “They’ll put it on my tab.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Sam left him to enjoy himself and hurried after Wanda, who was following Holly at a more sedate pace. As he caught up with her, she fixed him with her fierce golden eyes.
“What do you know about this?” she growled.
Feeling like a mouse in front of this lioness, he stammered, “Um, I think Holly should tell you herself.”
The edge of her lip curled in a half-snarl, but she didn’t say anything else. Reinhold gave them a worried glance as they passed through the kitchen; Sam just shrugged, and he went back to cooking with a shake of his head.
Holly had stalked into the middle of the office and now stood with her arms defensively crossed. Alistair sat at his desk, looking confused—though his face lit up at the sight of Sam.
“You embarrassed me in front of the customers and Sullivan’s man,” Wanda said, immediately going on the offensive. “What are people going to say if they see me having a lover’s spat in the middle of my own joint?”
Holly’s brows climbed toward her hairline. “A lover’s spat? Really? I try to talk to you about getting the hell out of Chicago, and you dismiss me, dismiss my legitimate worries, like that?”
“Maybe we should leave,” Alistair said, rising from his chair.
“I’d agree, except apparently Sam here knows something about my woman that I don’t,” Wanda snapped.
Sam wished he could fade into the wallpaper. “I wouldn’t put it that way…”
“Maybe I talk to Sam because you won’t listen,” Holly shot back at Wanda. Her feathered headband was askew; she tore it off and flung it on Wanda’s desk. “Staying here is insanity! Haven’t you read the headlines? Sullivan and Fabiano’s gangsters are murdering each other left and right, blowing up one another’s buildings, using fucking look-away hexes that turn them invisible?—”
Sam cringed.
“—and you refuse to even consider cutting ties, leaving this goddamned town, and going somewhere safer!” Holly finished.
“This is all I have,” Wanda snarled. “All we have. We’ve built The Pride with blood, sweat, and tears, and?—”
“And so you’ll die for it?”
