“As long as you don’t go for his hair, you’re fine.” I snatched the phone before he could bolt. “Or mine.”
“I like how you slid that in there.” He laughed. “Slick.” He glanced at Asa. “We haven’t met, but I watched your recent challenges with my dad. Your combat skills are impressive.” He dropped to one knee and placed his fist over his heart. “Jase Isiforos, Miserae.”
Jerked from the action on screen, I pressed pause. “You inflict misery on people?”
A dismissive flick of Asa’s fingers, and the daemon rose. “Pleasure to meet you, Jase.”
“You don’t end up a Black Hat by spreading joy and happiness.” Jase grinned. “Nice to meet you, Rue.”
He backed into the shadows then spun on his heel and returned to his team.
Since he appeared to be in possession of that rarest commodity—common sense—I committed Jase’s name to memory in case we needed a solid agent later, then hit play. “Oh, boy.”
Leaning over my shoulder, Asa watched the brutal murder with me. I kept having to dismiss notifications on posts the witness had made, leading me to believe she had shared her horror story on social media. A solid Black Hat presence meant the Kellies, not the cleaners, would be responsible for expunging that mess.
What was wrong with people that they filmed a murder rather than helped the victim?
“The spirit matches the photos in Frankie’s file.” Asa studied her. “Her form is comparable to the Boos.”
“She’s definitely tangible.” I zoomed in on the snarl curling her lips. “Definitely pissed off too.”
“Did you see that?” Asa paused the video, rewound it. “In the crowd?”
Nudging up the volume, I replayed the section he indicated and spotted a purple-robed wizard with staff in hand. She beamed from ear to ear, danced her way to a better vantage point, and generally acted like she had won a million dollars from a scratch card.
“Ms. March.” I cranked my head toward Asa. “She’s older than I expected for an accomplice.”
After meeting the Amherst kids, I had formed the wrong impression. I expected to be hunting teens. The presumption was sloppy detective work on my part. I knew better than to make sweeping assumptions.
The robe and website logo were damning, but a peek at that handy-dandy club roster would go a long way toward linking the Amhersts and Ms. March, if we could get our hands on it.
“Kids aren’t the only ones who enjoy a temporary escape from reality.”
“Hey, Isiforos,” I called into the gloom. “Come here.”
A minute or two later, he reemerged with raised eyebrows. “Questions?”
Curious about his take on things, I asked, “What do you think we’re dealing with here?”
“Vengeful spirit.” He clucked his tongue. “I don’t know what that guy did to piss her off, but he did it good.”
“Thanks, Isiforos.” I caught his eye. “Here.” I tossed him the witness’s phone. “Send me a copy, please.”
“Please?”He tilted his head. “Keep talking like that, and you’ll ruin your bad reputation.”
“Yeah.” I scratched some dried blood off my cheek that had begun to itch. “I’m real worried about it.”
Point in fact, I was worried. The stink was wearing off me. The pendant’s aura was cloaking mine now. It wasn’t too far off an idea I had early into bonding with Colby. I was starting to think this might work out. The pendant kept the grimoire safe, and their combined black magic funk kept my change of heart from showing every time one of these predators breathed in my direction.
Except, with the grimoire involved, I was always wary whenever I started thinking it was a good idea to keep it close versus flinging it into the nearest volcano.
“Need anything else?” Isiforos readjusted the tarp over the body. “We’re about to move him, if you’re done.”
“We’re done.” I shot Clay a text to update him and tell him to watch out for the video. “So, clothes?”
After the run-in with Walters, we had to accept our outfits were destined for the trash bin.
“There’s a supercenter two blocks away.” Asa buttoned his jacket to better hide his shirt. “Will that do?”
“I’m good with whatever.” I swept my gaze down him. “You’re the fashion plate.”
“I didn’t choose the uniform.” He smoothed his ruined shirt. “The uniform chose me.”
A failed attempt at patricide got Asa recruited, so he wasn’t wrong about not having a say.
“Not your fault you make it look good, huh?” I couldn’t help my smile. “Let’s see if your mojo works on off-the-rack clothes too.”
And if he needed a second opinion that required sharing his dressing room, I would make that sacrifice.