Black Wings, Gray Skies (Black Hat Bureau 4)

14

An eternity passed on our ride up to the second floor. I could say this much for the elevator. It was nothing if not consistent. Snails everywhere would envy its lethargic but steady pace and its refusal to be rushed.

A rank odor hit me when the doors slid open, and the bottom dropped out of my stomach.

I didn’t check with Asa. I didn’t call out for Clay. I ran. Straight to the kitchen where I left Colby.

“Hey.” Clay waved a potholder-clad hand at me. “I made eggplant parmesan and garlic crostini.”

“I read him the directions.” Colby fluttered her wings. “He almost cut off a finger on the mandoline.”

“Chefs don’t share their secret ingredients,” he told her out of the corner of his mouth. “Now hush.”

Colby mimed zipping her lips, but she couldn’t hide her smile.

She was back to her old self, and I was sick with the relief of it.

Unable to relax yet, I informed Clay, “I smelled black magic in the hall.”

“That’s rude.” He tossed his mitt at me. “I spent hours on this masterpiece, and I didn’t invoke the dark arts for help even once.”

“Unless you baked a chocolate boo hag soufflé for dessert, we’ve got problems.”

“Rue.” Asa touched my shoulder. “Look.”

A Dutch oven sat on the floor, the kind with a glass lid, and blackness whirled within it.

“What is that?” I stepped closer as red eyes blinked open. “Who is that?”

Based on what we learned tonight, I had a good idea, but I wanted to be sure.

“Wakey-wakey.” Clay nudged the pot with his foot. “Time to spill your secrets, or I spill this rice.”

A low growl vibrated the lid with a metallic clink, but the hag didn’t speak.

“How did you catch it?” I peered at the dark mass. “Is it trapped in there?”

“I was about to boil pasta when our guest here attacked the wards on Colby. I dumped a handful of kosher salt crystals in the water, and the boo hag dove in to count them before they dissolved. I slapped a lid on, and I’ve been adding various things to the pot to keep it occupied since then.”

That a boo hag could be compelled into a pot of boiling water for the sake of counting was hardcore.

Too bad it hadn’t dissolved along with the salt, but that was probably hoping for too much.

“We visited Marah,” I told Clay. “We heard her side of the story.”

A low hiss rattled the lid, as if steam were escaping from the vent, but it didn’t speak.

Instead, it threw itself against the sides, roaring and thrashing. “Hungry.”

The petulant tone warned a tantrum was coming, all but confirming who Clay had caught.

“I will set this pot in the window at high noon before I feed you my daughter.”

A coiled spring wound tight in my chest, until my heart nearly burst with the enormity of my declaration.

I tap-danced around my relationship with Colby for both our sakes, but apparently all the feelings Asa was stirring up had me in a claiming mood on that front too.

Too chicken to check Colby for her reaction, I focused on the hag. “Who are you?”