Green-Eyed Demon Page 39


“What?” Alodius shouted.


I paused. “Did you know him? He worked for Madam Zenobia.”


Alodius’s face had turned an interesting shade of red. He sputtered for a moment. I couldn’t tell if he’d realized he’d given something away or if it was genuine shock. “He came here a time or two for Madam Z. Are you sure he’s dead?”


I nodded sadly. “But that’s not all. Whoever killed him also destroyed Zen’s shop.”


This seemed to shock him less than hearing about Brooks’s pretend death. “That’s a shame.” He paused. “But back to the fae. You’re absolutely positive he died?”


“I’m afraid so.” I shook my head, keeping my eyes on the Cajun. “Who would do such a terrible thing, Alodius?”


Alodius punched a fist into his palm. “Those sons-a-bitches!”


I moved in closer. “Which sons of bitches?”


He choked and kicked his feet. “What? I just meant whoever’s responsible should pay.” He looked away with wild eyes.


I got in his face. Grabbed his collars. “Who?”


His mouth worked like a hungry carp’s. “I— they were just going to scare y’all a little.”


I tightened my fists on his ring-around-the-collar and lifted. His doughy body struggled against the reverse of gravity. Exposing my fangs, I hissed, “Names. Now!”


The bell over the door announced the arrival of Adam and Pussy Willow. “He better have confessed to something, Red,” Adam said by way of greeting. “Because we agreed no violence until we had proof.”


I dropped Alodius. His ass hit linoleum with a crack. Probably broke his tailbone, judging from the moans of pain. “We were getting to that. Alodius was just about to tell me everything he knows.” I nudged him with my boot. “Right?”


Alodius cringed and looked up at the six-foot-tall diva in heels towering over him. “Brooks!” His voice cracked. “You’re alive!” Then he paused and swiveled his gaze to me. “Wait a second. What the hell’s going on here? Why did you say he died?”


Pussy Willow crossed her arms and glared down at the man. “Brooks did die, darlin’. I’m his better, bitchier half.”


Alodius shook himself, clearly lost. “What the sam hell’s going on?”


Adam knelt down and looked into the human’s eyes. “Here’s a clue. Next time you want to hide your involvement in attempted murder, make sure to take off the tacky tie pin that links you to the crime.” Adam flicked the pin in question with his fingernail.


The man blanched but raised his chin. “You’re grasping at straws. A tie pin don’t prove nothin’.”


“Bullshit,” I barked. “Are you telling me if I go upstairs I won’t find a red hood in your closet?”


He swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed frantically among his jowls. “Alodius wasn’t there! The shop was open. You can ask anyone.”


“Fine. Maybe you weren’t there,” I said. “But you’re involved. And you’re going to tell us everything you know.”


He shook his head and tightened his fat lips.


Maybe a professional interrogator would have kept trying to get the man to admit his involvement. Me? I preferred a more direct route. I hauled the Cajun up by his armpits. “Adam, get the butcher knife. I’m gonna cut the truth out of him.”


The Cajun’s eyes went wide with fear. “No!” Spittle flew from his fat lips and landed on my face. I’d had no real intention of cutting the sad little man, but if he kept spitting on me I might change my mind.


“Start talking, then.” I carried him over to a chair and tossed him down in the seat. He groaned and rubbed his backside.


“Ouch! No need to be violent.”


I got in his face. “On the contrary, there is every need to get violent. This isn’t a game, Alodius. It’s as fucking serious as it gets.” I grabbed the picture of Maisie from my pocket. “This shit here makes me want to inflict some major pain on someone. Unless you start giving us something we can use to find my sister, that someone will be you.”


The space between us filled with the tang of urine. I glanced down at the rapidly spreading wet spot on the front of Alodius’s trousers. A shudder wracked the human’s body as he tried to collect himself. His eye welled with tears and his face went red.


I dropped him to escape the body fluids. He slumped on the floor and openly wept. “I’ll give you something to cry about you miserable piece of shit.”


“Sabina,” Adam said quietly.


Snot bubbled from his nose. “They’ll never induct me now,” he wailed.


I stepped back with a sigh and crossed my arms. “Who won’t?”


“The Benevolent Brotherhood of the Eastern Mystery.”


Frowning, I looked at Adam, who shrugged and shook his head. Pussy Willow looked equally lost. “Who the hell are they?”


Alodius snorted and swiped at his tears. “They’re only the most powerful secret society in human history.”


I pressed my lips together. “If they’re so powerful, why haven’t we heard of them?”


Alodius looked up at me like I’d said something ridiculous. “You hard of hearing, cher ? It’s called a secret society for a reason.”


Adam crossed his arms. “Please. Most people have heard the names of lots of secret societies— the Rosicrucians, the Illuminati—”


The mortal made a rude noise. “Those guys are pussies. The Brotherhood has the true power.”


“Such as?” I prompted.


He pressed his lips together and twisted his fingers in front. Then he crossed his arms and leaned back.


“Well, now, look who’s suddenly rediscovered his sac.” I placed the ball of my foot on the edge of his chair and pushed. The chair fell back with a clatter and a flurry of curses from the sprawled Cajun.


“You no-good bloodsucker. See if the Brotherhood don’t teach you a thing or two.”


“You’re testing my patience.” I stood over him with my boot heel on his fat belly. “Why did the Brotherhood attack Zenobia’s store?”


The spiked point of my heel ground into his midsection. “Jesus, watch the pancreas, will ya?” he groaned. “I’ll talk.”


The sudden shift to first person told me I’d won. With a smile, I delivered one more jab of my spiked heel before jerking my head at Adam. The mage rolled his eyes and righted the chair before helping the man back into it.


“Now,” I said, putting an extra dose of menace into my voice. “Start at the beginning.”


Alodius ran a hand over his sweaty forehead, smoothing the flap of hair back over his pate. “It all started a week ago. At the monthly meeting, the Big Brothers informed us initiates that we needed to keep our eyes out for a magepire and—”


I held up a hand. “Hold up— magepire ?”


Adam snickered behind me. I shot him a glare before turning it on the mortal.


“Yeah, that’s what you are, right? Half and half?” I pursed my lips together and rolled a hand for him to continue. “Anyways, they said you’d have a mage and maybe a demon with you. If we saw any of you, we were to call in immediately. Imagine Alodius’s delight when you strolled right into the shop a few days later.”


“Why did they want to know about our movements?” Adam asked.


He shrugged. “Dunno.”


“You didn’t ask?” I said, my voice heavy with disbelief.


“Are you kidding? Initiates don’t ask questions. We follow orders.”


“So you called them each time after we left the shop,” Adam said. “That still doesn’t explain how that information got back to Lavinia.”


“Who?”


I rolled my eyes. This guy was a bigger idiot than I’d given him credit for. “Lavinia Kane? The leader of the vampire race? The one who’s been sending her goons after us based on the information you’ve been giving your stupid secret society.”


“Hey! The Benevolent Brotherhood of the Eastern Mystery isn’t stupid. We raise lots of money for literacy at our annual crawfish boil.”


I threw up my hands and turned to Adam. “You better take over before I kill him.”


The mage moved in, pulling a chair up next to the frustrating butcher. “Alodius, I need you to focus, okay? We understand you were just following orders.”


I snorted and rolled my eyes. As I did so, I looked at Pussy Willow. Every muscle in her body tensed, including her fists, which clenched and unclenched like they wanted to get busy. As Alodius waxed poetic to the mage about honor and patriotic duty and a bunch of other bullshit, I sidled up to the faery.


“Hey,” I whispered. “You doing okay?”


A muscle worked in her jaw. Her eyes never left the butcher. “Mmm-hmm.”


“Don’t worry. Adam will get to the bottom of this. He gives great good cop.”


Pussy Willow’s head nodded slowly to acknowledge my statement, but I had the feeling she wasn’t all there. I couldn’t blame her for her anger over Alodius’s involvement. Now wasn’t the time for a heart-to-heart, though, so I patted her stiff arm and focused on Adam’s progress— or lack thereof.


“No, I didn’t know that Nostradamus was a member of the Brotherhood. But I really need you to focus. Did you see anything odd when you went to the temple recently?”


“Like what?”


Adam gritted his teeth. “Like vampires?”


Alodius waved a wave. “Oh, them. Yeah. This one fella was at our last meetin’. Big Brother Devereaux introduced him as ‘Rupert.’ Seemed kind of sissy with the cane and cape and all.”


Adam looked up at me. “The Count?”


I nodded. “Did you speak to him?”


The butcher shook his head. “Nope. He just kind of sat in the back, listening. Seemed odd, since only members of the Brotherhood are allowed in the ceremonial room. But,” he shrugged, “B. B. Devereaux explained the vamp belonged to a group that funded a lot of our activities.”

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