“You sure? Did it tell you its name?”
“No. I—” I paused. This was nuts. “Forget it. I’m going crazy.”
“We all are, honey.” Mac rubbed my arm. “Don’t worry about it.”
Cordelia stared down at me, the weight of her gaze heavy. Then she disappeared, jumping down into an alley and losing herself amongst the shadows.
Strange.
Mac led us to her flat and got me set up on the couch. As soon as I lay down, my whole body seemed to melt. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem.” She disappeared into her room, shouting out, “See you in the afternoon. Then we can make our game plan for the morgue.”
“Good deal.” I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of the city waking up. The window was open, emitting a nice breeze and the smell of coffee from somewhere on the street down below.
I dreamed of the murder. Of meeting the Devil of Darkvale. Of the raccoon who I’d sworn was Cordelia. She had visited me, sleeping on my stomach as I slept on the couch.
Eventually, my mobile woke me, buzzing like mad next to my head on the pillow. I jerked upright, panting, and looked at it.
A text from Corrigan.
Shit.
Memories of every horrible thing I was trying to fight flashed in my mind. The murder. The manhunt.
I opened the message.
The entire police force is looking for you. Your face is on posters in shop windows. Turn yourself in.
Shit, shit, shit. That was intense.
It was ramping up to be a real serial killer investigation—and I was the main suspect.
“Breakfast,” Mac sang out from the kitchen.
I jerked, turning toward the kitchen door. She stepped out, carrying a tray with two big glasses of milk and a familiar blue package.
“Oreos for breakfast?” I asked.
“With milk!” She grinned widely. “That’s how it’s healthy.”
“Of course.” Despite the warning from Corrigan, a smile spread across my face. “Can’t imagine a better breakfast.
“Me, neither.”
We ate the Oreos quickly, cutting through almost half the package.
“So, ready to go sneak into the morgue?” Mac asked.
“Yeah. Can we pay a visit to Eve first, though?” Now that magic was an option, I wanted to use it. I had a lot of skills, but breaking and entering wasn't one of them. Especially not when the building in question was guarded like the morgue. I was willing to rack up some debts with Eve to improve my chances of getting in.
“Sure thing. She should be open.”
Thankfully, it turned out she was. The shop looked the same as it had when we’d entered the first time—cluttered and full of magic, the potion bottles jammed onto the walls and faerie lights in the ceiling—but Eve looked different.
She looked guilty.
Hell, she almost grimaced when she looked at us.