Gray Witch (Black Hat Bureau 5)

“Yeah, well, everyone else is an idiot.” I slung my arms around his neck. “They missed out.”

“We should go.” He shifted until he settled between my thighs. “Tupelo is several hours away.”

A knock on our door shattered the moment and proved Murder Granny had the same flawless timing as Clay where Asa and I and nakedness were concerned.

“We’re about to reenact one of the most romantic moments in our relationship.” I nudged him back, got to my feet, and loaded our new belongings. “We’re going to sneak out this window.” I gave it an experimental tug to ensure it wasn’t painted closed. “Then we’re going to run to the SUV like scalded cats and burn rubber.”

“That’s not how that night ended,” he reminded me, his hips pressing into my butt, his lips on my ear.

Leaning against him, I fought the urge to groan as his hands explored over my clothes. “Have you ever necked in an SUV?”

“No.” He bit mine to make a point. “I can’t say that I have.”

“Then our night isn’t over yet.”

* * *

Our night was so over.

I could tell the second I caught a glimpse of the carnage Old Man Fang left behind as his calling card. It was textbook, identical to the stories Meg had told me over the years. I wished Dad was here to see it. Old Man Fang’s legends were the kinds of stories I could imagine a black witch dad telling his daughter over a campfire.

“Well, if it isn’t the director’s prize pony. This must be a special occasion for him to trot you out.”

Dread in my gut, I whirled toward the voice, but not in time to fend off the attack.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Evette squealed, tackling me in a hug that smelled like lemon drops. She was cecaelian. Basically, a mermaid with tentacles. “Not since we drank Bourbon Street dry.” She pulled back, but her hands were everywhere. Even the six I couldn’t see, thanks to her natural ability to camouflage. She was lucky my hair was in a bun when she pounced. “Where have you been hiding?”

“I ran away from home.” I pried her off me. “Asa, this is Evette.”

“You brought me a present?” She clapped, her eyes flickering a luminescent green. “He’s so pretty.”

“He’s mine.” I gripped her upper arm and yanked her back. “Do. Not. Touch.”

She wet her full lips with her greenish tongue and debated whether to listen to me. We hadn’t been friends, but we had gotten into a lot of trouble together when I was younger. Usually after she wore that exact expression.

“He’s a daemon prince.” I kept a civil tone. “His person is sacred, particularly his hair.”

“How big is your altar?” She fluttered her lashes at him. “Should I worship you on my knees?”

All of a sudden, I felt certain anyone with eight arms could stand to lose one. Or six.

“Touch me,” Asa said, polite as you can be, “and Rue will slit your throat.”

Shock burst across her face, and she glanced back at me to find my athame in hand. “He’s not wrong.”

“It would be a mercy,” he continued, voice flat. “As I understand it, cecaelia can’t survive without all eight of their arms. Lore says they can’t swim without them and lose their way in the sea. They get lost and wander until they die of a broken heart from homesickness.”

“That’s barbaric.” Evette flexed her hands, her eyes narrowing on me. “Forgot who I was talking to for a beat.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and strutted off, swaying her hips. “Finch, you handle this.”

While Finch scuttled to us, we crouched over the body and began an examination. There was no mystery here. A large warg had gone wolf and ripped a guy open from chin to navel. Most of his organs were MIA, and blood spread like brushstrokes where the warg had lapped up the puddle with his tongue.

“They made a mistake with this one,” I told Asa quietly. “Meg will know where to find his bones.”

“She might have known where they were buried, but can she tell where they were moved?”

“I hear you go by Rue Hollis these days.” Finch measured me with a glance. “Evette’s right. You’ve been gone a long time. We all figured you were dead.” He tilted his head. “You’re not dead, are you?” He cracked a yellowed smile. “The things we’ve been seeing lately make it hard to tell.”

“Asa, this is Finch. Finch, Asa.” I answered the question in Asa’s eyes. “The three of us took a few classes together. We worked a few cases together too.”