Chapter 6

T he tree was burning again.

That was the first thing I noticed when I arrived at The Body Shop. Sure enough, I checked the leaf in my pocket and found it engulfed in harmless flames. As I stood there, watching the fire, Badb lit on a limb in the center of the glow. For a second, my heart stopped, fear souring my mouth, but the crow was as unaffected as me.

"You must be Frankie Talbot."

Whirling toward the voice, I watched as a woman whose head might reach my hip, dressed in a lavender suit with frothy white hair rising from her scalp like smoke, leapt down from the bench next to the office where she had been standing. "That's me."

"I'm Charity Moore." She offered a delicate hand, which I made no move to take. "Tilda sent me?"

Tilda? Who the hell was…? Oh . She meant Carter.

"That was fast." I would have expected an expert to take days or weeks to arrive. "Mind if I verify?"

"Mind if I get started while you check my credentials?"

"Help yourself." I tracked her progress across the road as I dialed Carter. "Charity Moore."

"She's a dendrologist who moonlights as an arborist." Her throaty laughter hinted she wasn't surprised by the woman's abrupt appearance. "She specializes in the study of trees with ectoplasmic resonance. Their physiology, growth patterns, and spiritual ecology. As well as the origin of their otherness, their likelihood of contagion, and the development of silvicultural systems for their preservation. Or destruction. Depending on her findings."

"Alrighty then." I blew out a breath. "I'll let you get back to it."

Hopefully, the it in question wasn't my sister, but I wanted to avoid nightmares, so I wasn't going to think too hard about it. Carter was likely still hunkered down with Harrow, discussing what he learned tonight, so Josie should be safe from her own bad decisions. For now.

"Never hesitate to call me, Frankie. I owe you. Even if I didn't, I like you. You're good people."

"I like you too." I blinked away the afterimage as the tree extinguished itself. "Later."

After I ended the call and got my vision squared away, I approached Charity, who gawked at the trunk.

A loud caw brought my attention swinging up to Badb, who sailed down to land on my shoulder.

"I can't believe this." Charity spread a glittering substance across her fingertips. "I've never…"

"…seen anything like it?" I couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad one. "Any theories?"

"This tree appeared here?" She let my question roll right off her back. "Overnight?"

"The tree's always been there." I stroked down Badb's spine. "It was struck by lightning from a clear sky." I shifted my weight, uncomfortable sharing the information. "It caught fire, as lightning-struck trees do, but it burnt itself out before our hoses could get more than the crown wet."

"Do you see this?" She lifted her hand, which glittered under the moon. "It's not sap, it's ichor."

Ichor, in my limited experience, was black and viscous. Not gilded and syrupy. "Ichor?"

"This tree will bear fruit," she marveled, her eyes wide with wonder. "Ambrosia."

"I take it you don't mean the fruit salad kind." I studied the tree with renewed interest. "This is an elm."

"Not anymore." She reached up to tug a limb down a couple of inches. "That flower? Looks like an apple or maybe a pear." She released her hold, watching it snap back in place. "Of course, just because it looks like the earthly equivalent doesn't mean it is one. Its power will depend on its divine origin."

Divine.

Not a total surprise, given the events of the past month, but this was one more mystery to solve.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I searched my memory. "Gods eat ambrosia, right?"

"It's called the food of the gods, yes, but it's a catch-all classification."

"You mentioned the fruit's power will be determined by its divine origin?"

"Yes." Her keen intellect sharpened on me. "Do you know who blessed this tree?"

"Not for certain." I read her disappointment and admitted, "But I've got a hunch it was a death god."

Or one of their personal assistants.

"Then this will become a pomegranate tree."

That was an area I was well versed in. "The fruit of the dead."

Hades and Persephone came to mind first, followed by the claim the fruit sprung from Adonis's blood.

"This complicates things." She couldn't clean her hand off fast enough. "We'll need to contain this tree."

The tree wasn't mine, and neither was the land, but I was curious. "How do you plan on doing that?"

Josie had quarantined it by withdrawing any nearby root systems from the area to avoid contamination, but I got the feeling Moore had a more tactical containment idea in mind.

"We'll ward it until it produces its first fruit. Then we'll test it, classify it, and decide its fate."

A tree that may or may not grant eternal life, which ambrosia was said to do, would only cause strife.

To keep folks at a distance addressed only half the problem. "The ward will conceal it until then?"

"No one will be able to access the area six feet around it either." Her gaze flicked to Badb. "We can't risk a bird getting a hold of any seeds and scattering them." She stroked the bark as if petting the tree. "Tilda says I can trust you, but I don't know you. Consider this fair warning." Her wispy hair swirled in an unseen breeze. "I will erase your memories of this tree—of this conversation—should you tell anyone else about its existence. This much power can't fall into the wrong hands."

"You should know my brother and sister were with me the night the tree was struck." I maintained a casual tone. "Threaten me all you want. Harm them, even look at them the wrong way, and it will be the last thing you ever do."

"Keep them quiet, and they'll be safe from me."

"They'll be safe from you, or the god I think is responsible for this tree will pay you a visit." I gestured toward the lightning-struck tree. "As you can see, he's got excellent aim."

A bluff, since Kierce wasn't a full-blooded god, but he was the next best thing.

The roses in her cheeks faded to an ashy gray, and she swallowed once. "Good night, Ms. Talbot."

"Night, Ms. Moore."

Invoices consumed my morning, along with phone calls to customers. The shop was slammed with work, which left me pitying Pedro for the headache he inherited when I seated him in Matty's body for the day after my brother spent the entire night drinking and dancing. I brought him ibuprofen and Gatorade, but neither had eased the pinched line between his brows. I shouldn't have put my sibs up to Lure on a work night, but I hadn't wanted to fumble the opportunity to make amends with Carter either.

I knew better than most that you couldn't help your nature. You could only make the best of it.

"I hate you."

Standing in the doorway, wearing dark sunglasses, Josie hunched against the doorframe.

"What time did you get home?" I examined her. "Matty walked in as I was on my way to wake him."

"Just now." She slid her back down the frame until she sat on the floor. "I must still be drunk."

"From the smell, I would say it's possible."

"I swear the tree—the burning tree—is gone." She shook her head, hissing through her teeth, gripping the sides of her skull, then slumped onto her side on the floor. "No more tequila for me."

"The tree is gone." I pitied her as she curled into a ball. "From sight."

"Are you talking in riddles or is it all the Honey Traps talking?"

Bee pollen, Mijenta Reposado Tequila, local honey, kosher salt, lemon and ginger juice, and Mezcal.

A more fitting drink for a dryad didn't exist, and I hated that Armie had turned her onto them.

"Carter dispatched someone to evaluate the burning phenomenon last night. The dendrologist, a Charity Moore, came back out bright and early with supplies. She and her coworkers warded the tree to prevent it from attracting the wrong kind of attention." I doubted she would recall much of this conversation, but it looked like it was happening anyway. "We've been cautioned not to mention it to anyone."

"Or else?"

"Or else," I agreed, rising to help her to her feet. "We'll talk again when you're sober."

"Good plan." She shot me two thumbs-up that drooped sideways. "Sober is good."

Walking out through the shop, I paused to let Pedro know I was helping Josie to her apartment.

"Take care of our girl," he called from under the matte-gray hood of what had begun as a 1967 Chevrolet C10 pickup but was now what the Suarezes affectionately deemed a Frankentruck. With a chopped top, shaved sides, Oldsmobile door handles, custom bumpers, and a diamond aluminum bed with stretched steel sides, it was a total rat rod. "I'm good here for the next hour."

"I won't be gone long," I promised, shuffling Josie out the open bay doors into the sunlight, which would have fueled her under normal circumstances but caused her to flinch from the brightness. "Worth it?"

"Did you see Carter last night?" She groaned from deep in her chest. "She has magic fingers."

"I don't need to know that or want to know that and wish I had never been told that."

"She gave me a foot and calf massage after I tweaked my ankle on the dance floor." Josie wilted over me, mashing her face against my shoulder. "I might be pregnant."

"Not sure that's how babies work, but congratulations?"

Halfway to her landing, my phone rang, and I risked putting it on speaker. "Hello."

"Hey," a low voice rumbled in greeting.

"Harrow?" Josie glanced over her shoulder. "Where did you come from?"

"He's on the phone," I explained, then told him, "I'll call you right back."

"He still has the hots for you." Her head lolled back. "All the succubae were talking about it last night."

"We have chemistry, I won't deny it, but that's all we have."

"Just don't have his babies, okay?" Her jaw cracked on a yawn. "They would just be cops."

"I can see it now." I stifled a laugh. "Dress blue onesies with black booties and little badge pacifiers."

"Eww."

"Yes," I said dryly. "The horror of having law enforcement in the family."

A wild laugh erupted from her, shaking her shoulders and almost tumbling us down the stairs.

"Now I'm getting worried." I frowned at the back of her head. "It wasn't that funny."

"Not…that," she wheezed through fits of giggles. "I pictured you…laying…an egg ."

Panicking that her blood alcohol level must be toxic, I gripped her tighter. "Why would I…?"

"Your birdfriend." She couldn't catch her breath. "Your kids…would be… eggs ."

Amusement tickled my lips as I escorted her into her apartment and tipped her onto her bed.

Pretty sure she was out cold before her head hit the pillow, which suited me fine.

Out on the landing, I sank onto the topmost step and redialed Harrow. "Sorry about that."

"Josie stayed out late, huh?" He sounded like he already knew the answer. "Carter's so carsick, we're staying at the office today."

"Probably a wise choice unless she wants her truck to smell like puke forever."

"We had paperwork to catch up on anyway."

A moment of silence lapsed where any number of things once fit but no longer did. "So."

"So." He exhaled as the seconds marched on. "Thanks to being stuck behind a desk since I went on duty, in addition to tidying my inbox, I had time to dig into your case. The five missing girls SPD has on record? We cross-referenced their names, dates of birth, and last-known addresses. They all have some paranormal ancestry. I've updated their information in the 514 database and flagged the grouping for Chief Leer."

"Hold on." I shoved my hair out of my face. "I didn't mean for you to drag him into this."

The small favor I asked was spinning out of control, and the tree situation wasn't helping my anxiety.

"Frankie." A car door slammed in the background. "These girls started disappearing around two weeks ago."

A slow exhale parted my lips as the reason behind his urgency hit me. "They're recent."

As in, the trail was fresh enough to follow. As in, there would be more if we didn't stop the killer.

"Unofficially, SPD is calling them cold cases." He hesitated. "There's not much information on the girls." I heard his fumble for tact. "Unhoused teens are notoriously difficult to track. Most don't survive long on their own. They disappear without a trace all the time. Without leads, the SPD has hit a dead-end."

"That's a cop-out." I recalled the friends us Marys had lost over the years between one blink and the next to the public's indifference and bitter reality. "I'm sure you appreciate the irony."

"We do the best we can." He raised his voice before I steamrollered him. "We know it's not enough."

Mildly placated, I shifted my anger away from him. "What happens when Leer sees the flag?"

"Odds are he'll make it official and hand the case off to Carter and me since we brought it to him."

A sour taste rose up the back of my throat at the prospect of involving myself with the 514 again.

But those lost and forgotten girls deserved an advocate, and I had volunteered to be one.

To give me a moment to process this update, I checked on him. "How are you and Carter?"

Another stretch of silence lasted until I was ready to break, but he beat me to it.

"We talked things out." He sucked his teeth. "We're…okay."

"Okay is good."

"Yeah." His breath gusted across the connection. "Okay is good."

Maybe, if he forgave her for her role in Lyle's death, he could move past his fixation on Kierce too.

"I need to get back to work." I gripped the railing and hauled myself to my feet. "Talk later?"

"I'll call as soon as I know more."

A sharp jab in my hip brought my attention to Badb, who was pecking at my pocket.

"What is it?" I smoothed a hand over my butt but didn't feel anything. Except for the result of eating so much of Josie's cooking. "Oh." I pulled out the leaf I really should have left in my room. "Is this what?—?"

Snatching it from between my fingers, she launched into the sky.

"This is why the tree got warded," I muttered as she disappeared from sight. "Hooligan."

Whatever connection Badb felt with the tree, it was plain she wasn't impressed with it being off-limits.

Certain this latest theft would come back to haunt me, I returned to my office to finish my shift.

And hoped Badb wasn't out there chasing cats around with a burning leaf just to hear them yowl.