Page 28

An empty can hits the wall below the display window next to me, close enough to startle me. Yeah, time to move. With a last glance behind me—towards the teens from before, and the empty can their would-be leader is juggling—I hurry after Cor. Maybe Looke will let me move in.

LOOKE’S IS EXACTLY what I expected. Her little store could come right out of a Fantasy novel, with the dark brown, shoddy looking counters, the wood and glass showcases in the back, the thick, red carpet dampening our steps to a whisper, and the uncountable amounts of rings, armbands, necklaces, pins, boxes, cases, vases,… It startles me a little, in a good way. I am a dusty store person at heart, no matter what is being sold in there.

The little bell above the door stops jingling, and we hear a voice from the back, calling out a rough, “Coming!” The voice has a vague accent that I can’t quite place with just that one word as a reference. When Looke steps past the tiny paravent hiding the doorway to her office, I am both intrigued and surprised.

The woman behind the counter is on the shorter side, maybe four inches shorter than me, with black hair that she has tamed by way of a ponytail in her nape. Her pale skin is tattooed with symbols and runes in little groups, too strict and systematic to be a fashion statement. She wears a blood scarlet bandanna on her head, like a pirate, but I can see just a hint of a tattoo line peeking out on her forehead, a small slice of color below the cloth. Hiding a tattoo, I surmise.

Looke looks to be around thirty-five to forty, with a simple black linen sarong around her hips and a slightly ripped, tight sleeveless top gripping her breasts as if they might run off otherwise. There are very slight bra lines under the mixture of embroidery and sewed-flat frills, and I have no idea whatsoever why I even notice. She doesn’t flirt or sway her hips or pose; she just comes in, smirks at me roguishly, and leans her elbows onto the counter. And I take a moment to realize it’s not sex-appeal that makes me blush and sweat, but power. Raw, magic power.

It floats around her like a heavy perfume, like lazy tendrils bobbing in a breeze, waiting for unknowing prey to brush up against them. I raise my hand before I know what is happening, but I can stop myself from reaching out in time. Stop myself from touching all that lurking, roiling power and finding out what it feels like.

Looke just watches with a slightly curious expression on her goth-pretty face. She twitches the corner of her mouth when I pull back, neutrally amused. Makes me wonder if she did it on purpose or if she didn’t realize at all what I was doing. “You Hunters rarely come by personally,” she says as a greeting, quirking an eyebrow at me. I can place her accent now: Scottish. It’s faint, but it is there, and it only adds to her hypnotic presence. Contrary to the people outside, she doesn’t seem perturbed by me being a mortal or a Hunter. Looke has been working with Hunters for years, and we pay her handsomely. It makes for a good friendship. Money usually does.

I tear my eyes off her swaying magic, shaking my head to get the tingles out of my ears. “Yeah. It’s a little different this time. I don’t have an actual artifact to look at. I only have its last victim,” I say, gesturing roughly towards the location Cor should be at. “I think this is going to take a lot of explaining, though. Any chance we can sit somewhere?”

“Away from the windows, where nobody can see you, I presume?” She smirks.

“Well—yes.” I shrug and return the smirk awkwardly. No sense in lying.

Looke eyes Cor over my shoulder, tilting her head to the side as she considers what she sees. “I don’t usually invite your kind into my back room, to make that clear. But I’m admittedly dying to hear what this—,” she points between Cor and me, “—is supposed to be.” Then she turns and waves us with her, disappearing behind the paravent again. “C’mon.”

Cor walks past me before I can say anything, breezing into the back room like he’s been there dozens of times before. I, mortal that I am, stay back for a moment and adjust my shoulder holster until I feel like I could draw my weapon quickly enough to defend myself, should anything jump me after the curtain. I’m getting way too complacent, and it’s not healthy.

When I enter the back room, Cor is inspecting a locked glass shelf filled with what I assume are animal bones or something similar, while Looke is on the other side of the room, rummaging through a box filled with precious stones, gems, and other shiny trinkets. She seems to find what she is looking for, pockets a small, red stone of some kind, and turns her attention back to me.

Looke waves us towards a massive wooden table with four chairs as she takes a seat on one side. “Well then, I am all ears and all yours. Dazzle me.”

I am not sure I will be able to dazzle her, but I fumble for the scrunched up amulet and carefully place it on the table. Only to quickly cover it with my hand as Cor raises a fist to smash it again, shaking my head at him pleadingly. “She will only look at it, then you can destroy it or whatever. Please,” I plead with the vampire. His expression makes me shudder slightly. There is a fire in his black eyes that seems to go way beyond simple hatred or rage. It’s deep and vast, and I don’t think it will ever go away until that amulet is well and truly destroyed. Still, he leans back and now glares at Looke, daring her to do other than what I said.

The magic lady just clicks her tongue, making an amused face. Instead of commenting, though, she leans forward and examines the sad remains of the amulet from up close, as promised, without touching it.

Looke’s green eyes narrow as she inspects it, her fingers hovering just above the crumpled metal. After a few moments of intense concentration, she pulls back and turns to me with a serious expression. “This is definitely no ordinary amulet. It has been infused with dark magic, and there is also some sort of link to another magical object.” She pauses for a moment, her gaze shifting between Cor and me. “If I had to guess, I’d say it is meant to track this one, if it pleases whoever created it.”

I feel my heart drop at her words. That means whoever was behind the silver coffin not only knew about the existence of this amulet but also had a way to track it. Probably even how they found Cor the first time, when I followed him into that park. And if they could track it down once, they could do it again.

“Is there any way to break this link? Or destroy the amulet completely?” I ask, trying not to let the panic show in my voice.

Looke shakes her head. “Not without knowing more about its creator or obtaining powerful counter-magic. This is beyond what I can do.”

I let out a frustrated sigh and run a hand through my hair. This just keeps getting worse and worse.

“And the other amulet?” Cor asks, finally breaking his silence with a surprisingly concise question. Almost a full sentence. I keep a straight face instead of gaping openly, but it’s a close thing.

Looke nods. “Yes. The link is faint but definitely there.”

Cor leans forward, his pitch black eyes locked on Looke’s face in intense focus. “Where?”

Looke closes her eyes for a moment before opening them again and nodding hesitantly. “It seems like it’s somewhere in the city outskirts. Hard to pinpoint exactly, I would need more time. And it’s risky. If I poke too hard, whoever holds the other amulet will find out and probably find me. Not my dream situation.”

“So how long would you need?” I ask, trying not to sound impatient. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, I promise.” Her worries are valid, especially since she is the actual expert on things like these. If she says it’s risky, it’s goddamn risky. But if we can track the other part of whatever diabolical magic this is, we will find Arzel and his cultists. Maybe even their main hideout. And that would be major progress.

Looke raises an eyebrow at my words but doesn’t comment. Instead, she shakes her head. “Two days, three, but that’s optimistic. Might take much longer, depending on the magic they used.” Her eyes meet mine, and she stares at me unflinchingly. “I am not even sure it is worth the risk for me. Or you,” she says, turning her attention to Cor. Her accent thickens noticeably. “Whoever made this, held a deep, dark, personal grudge against you. The hate is tangible in the magic.”

The thought of someone having such rage towards Cor makes my palms sweat. I know hate, but not like that. ‟What does that mean for us?” I ask, my voice suddenly hoarse.

Looke takes a deep breath and makes a slight gesture towards the broken amulet. Her eyes find mine, sucking me into her gaze as she leans forward. Her voice is not rough like mine, but it is a close thing. ‟Might be best to run from that particular past, instead towards it. I don’t see anything except death as an outcome, if you run into whoever made this thing.”

Shit.