Dark Secrets (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 3)

“Gangsters,” I said, remembering my earlier conversation with Grey.

“Precisely.” Neve nodded. “They run a number of neighborhoods throughout Magic Side.” She gave Grey a significant look. “If I remember correctly, your boy here is on their bad side.”

The corner of Grey’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Not always.” He looked at me. “It’s an on-again, off-again business arrangement. Currently, we’re off, which means we need to be careful on their turf when we speak to Madame Duvoir.”

“Will she talk to us if she works for a mob boss over there?” I asked.

“For the right price,” Neve said. “She’s a woman who does what she wants.”

“Why does the Order allow a bunch of old mobsters to control part of Magic Side?” I asked.

Neve shrugged. “Why does organized crime exist anywhere? Corruption, greed. They’ve got an arrangement, and we do what we can to keep everything as safe as possible. Most importantly, they make sure their goons don’t start showing up and dropping spells in Mainland Chicago.” She met Grey’s eyes. “He’d know all about the delicate dance between crime and city.”

“True enough.” Grey shrugged. “The Council of Guilds can’t stop me.”

“That’s because you own them,” I said. “And you can control their minds.”

“It’s a handy skill.”

Neve shook her head. “Well, it’s not too dissimilar here. We definitely want to avoid their goons. They don’t like me any more than they like you, and Carrow is an outsider, so she won’t be welcome either. But I can get us in by boat once it’s dark.”

“By boat?” I asked.

“The Dockside Den occupies the area around the old freighter docks, which the thugs now use for whatever they want to smuggle. The Great Lakes reach the sea, you know.”

I nodded, finally starting to get a more complete picture of Magic Side.

Neve finished her sandwich, leaving a bit of crust on her plate. “Ready to go find a boat?”

I ate the last bite of mine and stood. Grey joined us, laying a stack of bills on the table.

“It was on the house,” Neve said. “Diana sometimes feels bad for me because of how hard I work and throws me a bone.”

“Then it will be a tip.” Grey turned toward the door.

I shrugged and followed him. The gesture didn’t surprise me. He wasn’t the type to owe anyone.

But I definitely owed him.

It took Neve the rest of the afternoon to rustle up transportation, a sleek wooden speedboat we rented off an older gentleman at the local yacht club. It cost Grey a pretty penny. By the time we were ready to depart, the sun was sinking behind the horizon. Waves gently rocked the vessel as we climbed on board.

Neve took the wheel.

From the dock, the owner scowled at us. “Be careful with her,” he said.

She saluted. “You can count on me.”

He grumbled and turned away, as if he couldn’t bear to look.

“Can he count on you?” I asked.

Neve shrugged. “I’m not bad with driving. It’s the docking that’s hard.”

The old man groaned. “Just bring her in slow.”

“Will do, Cap.” Neve pulled away from the dock and looked at the dim sky. “This timing should work well enough. The moon won’t rise until a bit later, so we should have some good darkness.”

Grey stood on the other side of the boat, staring out at the lake ahead. The cool breeze swept his hair back. He looked like a movie star headed to the Venice Film Festival. I’d always liked looking at those pictures in magazines—images of far-off travel I’d never get to do.