Chapter 8

Carrow

Neve pressed her back against the wall of the cubicle. "Shit! Those are the trolls we walked in on earlier. I think our number is up." She looked at me. "They may not be after us, but I don't want to count on it. Do you have what you need?"

"Yes. We've got as much as we can."

"Okay, lets boogie." We backtracked through the stacks into the central chamber, hugging the shelves beneath the balconies to keep out of the sight of any possible watchers above. I followed Neve, bounding up the stairs to the second floor, and crossed over the lower half of the skyway.

Panic rose as we hurried through the corridors, trying to avoid looking suspicious. We couldn't get caught breaking into one of the main government buildings in Magic Side. They had the manpower to hunt us down and put us behind bars, and I didn't have time to chill in a holding cell.

Mac and Seraphia didn't have time. It was up to us to save them.

I studied Neve as we turned down another one of the endless narrow corridors lined by red doors. If we got caught, it could end her career. Yet, she seemed to be having fun. Who was this woman, and why was she risking her job to help us?

Finally, we exited into the alley, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

It was after noon now, and the sun shone high overhead. Birds chirped from the trees in the courtyard, and Neve said, "Come on, follow me."

She led us down the sidewalk away from the Hall of Inquiry, skyscrapers to our left and the long parkway to our right. We ducked into a bar in the lower level of a century-old building. Three-paned windows let in the sun, and the bar was well lit, with high ceilings and dangling Edison bulbs. A slender, tattooed woman was working behind a granite bar top. It was trendy but quiet and cozy at the same time.

Heck yeah, this was my kind of place.

Neve flagged down the bartender and took us to a table in the corner. We seated ourselves facing the door.

"Where are we?" Grey asked.

"The Hideout." Neve indicated the name of the bar, backwards in the window, written in bold white playbill letters.

The bartender stopped next to our table. She propped on hand on her hip. "Your usual, Neve?"

"No, on the clock. Just squatting. Can you say we've been here an hour if anyone asks?"

The woman cracked a grin. "Not a problem. I'll bring you some water."

"Thanks, Diana, you're the best." Neve turned to us. "Man, I could feel the corrupted magic streaming off that book. Can you tell me what this is all about?"

I drew in a breath and met her penetrating gaze. I wasn't sure what to make of this woman. At first glance, she seemed unassuming, if fashionable. But there was something extremely sharp about her, a hidden intensity below the surface that I sensed when we locked gazes. I recalled the vision I'd had when I shook her hand. I'd tried to avoid it, but she'd been quick. First had been the sensation of a warm, pleasant breeze, and then my stomach had lurched as though I were plunging downward at limitless speed.

The dizziness had remained even after I'd released her hand.

I had no idea what species she was, but it didn't matter. She'd put her job on the line for us, and she deserved an explanation.

"That book is linked to something bigger in Guild City." I spoke quickly, laying out the whole story, starting from the beginning with Seraphia and the book. As I finished, Diana stopped by our table. She sat three plates of sandwiches and three glasses of water in front of us.

"What's all this?" Neve asked.

"If I know you, you've had your head stuck in a book this whole time and missed lunch. Breakfast too, probably."

"You know I'd never miss a cinnamon bun from the coffee shop." She grinned at her. "But thanks. Otherwise, you're right. I'm starving."

"Anytime, Neve."

Neve took a big bite of her sandwich and chewed, a far-off expression on her face. I bit into mine, grateful for the sustenance.

Neve swallowed. "So, you're out of leads, but you've dealing with at least three curses—one on the book and the city wall, one on Grey's memory, and one on your friends?"

Curses on everyone except me. I was grateful, but it felt weird to be the odd one out.

"The curses are linked," Grey said. "The magic feels the same, and it's all tied together. We need to know what the curse is. Then perhaps we can track whoever cast it."

Neve nodded. "Sounds like you need a Curse Diviner."

"Is that the person you mentioned earlier?" I asked. "The one who might be able to help Mac and Seraphia?"

"Yes. Fortunately for us, they don't work at the Order. We need to lay low there."

"Where are they?" Grey asked. "Who is it?"

"Madame Duvoir. She lives and works in The Dens."

Grey's face tightened. "Who does she work for?"

"The Dockside Boss," Neve said.

"Just my luck." Grey gave a wry smile. "First the Order, now this. Not that any of the others would be better."

I gave him a curious look. "What am I missing?"

"The Dens are run by the criminal underground of Magic Side," Neve said. "It's been around forever, but it really hit its stride in the 1920s."

"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.

Now I was in America, and I'd been in Romania before that. My life had taken an adventurous turn.

The breeze was cool as the boat sped over small waves. Neve directed us toward the Dockside Den, looking like an expert at the wheel.

As twilight faded, I stared out at the city. It rose tall from the shore, shining skyscrapers reaching for the sky. Lights gleamed in the windows, more and more flicking on as the hour grew later.

"It's beautiful." I said.

Neve nodded. "Yes, at night. And some parts during the day. This is your first time in Magic Side?"

"Yep. It's quite different to Guild City. The people are so open with their magic. I mean, I saw a blood sorceress striding down the street. Magic radiated off her. It was clear as day what she was. You could never be openly…powerful…like that in Guild City."

Neve shrugged. "Never been there. Heard stories, though. It doesn't make sense to me. This is a magical city. We're a magical people—it's literally who we are. Why hide our powers?"

"Except you do." The words were out of my mouth before I had time to think. Neve's jaw tightened, and I instantly regretted it.

She was silent a moment, then she spoke, not making eye contact. "It works for me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

There was a long, awkward silence. Grey was far enough away that the wind drowned out our conversation.

"I'm still mastering my powers." I was trying to offer up something, but that didn't get any result, either. She had locked up. I continued anyway, trying to smooth the moment over. "Sometimes I just sense things. About people. Objects. I wanted to join the police, be a full detective. It didn't work out. Maybe it would have been better for me here."

Neve gave me a sympathetic look and shrugged. "This place has its own pitfalls. I've been trying to make investigator for years. Haven't managed it yet. It sounds like you have some interesting talents for it."

"None that have helped me in Guild City. I didn't have a lot of options, so I kinda had to strike out on my own—start my own detective agency."

Neve gaped. "That's amazing. Your own agency! I'm jealous. I can't imagine what it would be like to be my own boss."

I beamed a little at that. "Honestly, I'm making it up as I go along."

She smiled back. "Hey, any help you need, give me a call." She studied me for a moment, then gestured to the wheel. "Want to drive? Might as well learn some waterborne infiltration skills."

"I'm not sure the captain would approve. I haven't done it before."

She stood aside. "Nonsense. Come here."

I took her place. Beneath my palms, I felt the powerful thrum of the engines vibrating through the wheel.

Neve pointed at the controls. "Throttle up, throttle down. The wheel makes us turn to port or starboard. This button scuttles the ship, and we drown in Lake Michigan."

"What?"

She grinned. "Just kidding. Try not to hit land. You'll be fine—it's a big lake."

Handling the speedboat was exhilarating. As soon as I had got the hang of things, Neve had me punch up the engines, and we raced through the night along the dark, curving shoreline. The speedboat surged and hummed beneath my hands, begging me to go faster.

I shot a grin at Grey, then turned to Neve and shouted over the roar of the engines, "How do you know where we're going?"

"I've done this before," she yelled back.

"At night?"

"Yeah. For work."

"So, do you go into the field a lot? Hunting down bad guys?" It reminded me of my own work.

"I wish. Primarily, I'm a researcher, so they generally keep me chained to the archives." She grimaced.

"I've heard you're very good."

"Yeah, I'm so good I've been pigeonholed. They only let me out of the cage if they need me to read some ancient spell."

"Jerks."

Neve turned to look at me. "Totally. It's really frustrating. I do the groundwork for a lot of cases, but I'm never part of the bust."

I gently bit my lip. "Damn. That sucks."

"Yeah. I have a lot of repressed sleuthing." She grinned at me. "So what do I do? Find a healthy outlet? Noooo. I sneak a mob boss into the Order archives, then I shuttle him into the territory of another gangster. I need new hobbies."

"I'm sorry we're putting you at risk."

"Please, this is the most fun I've had all month." She looked back. "Anyway, I'm intrigued now. I want to push the case forward. All we have to do is not get shot."

"Is the Dockside Den that dangerous?"

"Only if you aren't supposed to be there. I mean, it's a free city. In theory, we should all be able to go where we want and talk to whomever we like. Normally, I would be fine going in. They might give me a hard time because I'm a known agent, but they wouldn't mess with me too much."

"So why are we trying to slip in under cover of night?" I asked.

Neve nodded back at Grey. "He makes this a lot harder. Bosses are supposed to stay out of each other's territory. Professional courtesy and all. But since he's the one with the curse…"

Neve looked at the dark shapes looming along the shoreline. The buildings here weren't as tall, and few were lit. "Speaking of getting in the hard way, I think I'd better drive."

I gave her the wheel, and she turned down the throttle. The engines reduced to a low murmur as we puttered along the shorefront.

"Just whispers now for this last part," Neve said in a low voice. "Sound carries over water."

I quit the chitchat and watched the structures of the dockyards slip by. Their enormous, looming piers had once been used for freighters and were backed by abandoned factories and unlit warehouses. The dockside area was expansive. There were a few harbors for small boats, and a motley assortment of vessels were tied off to bobbing orange buoys further along the shore. We came to an area of old wooden docks, which led to a cluster of warehouses and tall brick buildings that lined the waterfront.

"Here we go," Neve whispered.

She cut the throttle, and we coasted silently in, sliding under the tall dock and navigating between the tall pilings. They were in bad shape, covered with crustaceans and tattered bits of old rope. Everything smelled of dead fish and something strange, like smoky tar.

Neve pointed to a piling with wooden slats nailed to it. "That's how we get up."

She secured the speedboat, tying off the bow and the stern, then turned off the engine and pocketed the keys.

By then, Grey was already at the ladder, scaling it swiftly and naturally despite his suit.

"I don't know how that man makes a suit look so appropriate for everything," she mused.

"He's like James Bond."

Neve nodded. "Yep."

I followed Grey, and Neve brought up the rear. At the top of the makeshift ladder, a small wooden hatch was propped open. Grey was already on the dock, and I shimmied through the hatch to join him.

It had begun to sprinkle lightly, a faint rain that was cool against my skin. Shipping containers towered around us, blocking our view. We tucked ourselves into the shadows as Neve joined us.

"This way," she whispered, leading us out of the maze and toward the glow of lamps.

We reached the edge of the crates, and I caught a glimpse of the dock. Gas lamps flickered gold in the darkness, their light gleaming on the puddles and glass windows of the crumbling factories along the waterfront. Wooden slats ran between us and the buildings.

Everything was brick and iron, a remnant of an industrial past that had been abandoned in this part of the city.

Something moved in the shadows.

"Guards." Neve pointed to the two men. "Those are the boss's goons. Marsh Men."

I frowned. "Marsh Men?"

"People say they came from the lake, but I don't know if it's true." Neve indicated a guard roughly twenty feet away. "I'll take that one." She crept forward, soundless and lethal. Stepping from the shadows, she called, "Yoo-hoo!"

The Marsh Man turned in surprise, but Neve was on him in seconds. She ducked a blow and spun behind him, bringing her elbow down hard on his shoulder. He dropped to his knees, and Neve followed with a swift blow to the back of his head. The guard stiffened and toppled facedown.

Neve shot me a grin. "He'll be out for a while."

"Holy crap. You move like the wind. How did you learn to do that?"

"It's Silat, a Southeast Asian martial art. A lot of law enforcement agencies use it."

To my right, Grey darted out on silent feet, his movements a blur. A moment later, I spotted him dragging the second guard into an alley between two of the old factory buildings.

"Looks like he's taken care of the other one." Neve stood. "Come on."

She sprinted across the open section of docks and disappeared into the alley where Grey had dragged the Marsh Man. I dashed after her and found Grey standing over the guard, whom he'd bound with his own belt. There were gills on the side of the guard's neck, and he glared at me with green eyes.

"The boss will have your heads for this," he said.

"He'll have to catch us first." Grey removed his tie in a sexy one-handed gesture, then crouched and gagged the Marsh Man with it. "But tell him that the Devil of Darkvale sends his regards."

"You play a risky game, Devil," Neve said.

Grey grinned. "What's life without a little risk?"

He stood and stared down the alley. "Is this the way to your Curse Diviner?"

"Madame Duvoir lives at the end." Neve hurried quietly down the road. One end of the building abutted a small Art Deco tower, and Neve cut around to the back, where

she pointed at a fire escape that hung out of reach. Grey sprang up, grabbed hold of the metal ladder, and pulled it down.

"Will she mind that we're sneaking up on her?" I asked.

"Friends' entrance," Neve said. "And she'll know we're here by now."

"The boss knows you're here as well." A feminine voice, tinged lightly with a French accent, sounded from above.

I looked up, spotting a woman with dark, curly hair and unusually bright eyes. She wore a flowing dress with long sleeves, bangles around her wrists, and a broad amber necklace. She grinned widely. "Long time no see, Neve."

"Hey, Madame Duvoir. Got some time to lend us a hand?"

"All the time in the world." She raised her brows. "You, however, will be in a world of hurt when the boss shows up."

"How long do we have?" Neve asked.

Madame Duvoir shrugged. "Well, it's Thursday, so he's down at Gigi's. The show has started, but he's already received word that there are intruders on the docks."

Us.

"So it depends on how good the show is," Madame Duvoir said. "If it's good enough to distract him, he might just send more Marsh Men. If it's not…"

"He'll come himself." There was a slightly bloodthirsty lilt to Grey's voice. It would serve me well not to be distracted by his sophisticated manners and elegant suits. He was ruthless at heart, likely addicted to danger.

"Just come on up," Madame Duvoir said.

"You won't get in trouble?" I asked, guilt streaking through me. If the boss was so dangerous, and she worked for him…

I desperately needed her help—Mac and Seraphia needed her help—but I couldn't help worrying about her.

Madame Duvoir waved her hand. "Don't fret. I do what I want."

"Come on." Neve scaled the ladder.

I followed her, with Grey bringing up the rear.

Madame Duvoir's place was a large, open space and dimly lit, outfitted with Bohemian décor.

"This way." Madam Duvoir led us toward a round table.

We sat, and she leaned forward, eyes gleaming with interest. "So, what do you have for me?"

I pulled the book out of my bag, along with the two locks of hair. I put them on the table in front of her and told her the tale.

Her expression was impassive as she listened. When I finished, she looked at Grey. "And you're cursed, too?"

"My memory has been modified."

"Could be a spell," she said. "Not as degenerative as a curse, but it would get the job done."

"Can you determine what it is?" he asked.

"For the right price."

"Which is?"

She named a number that made my brows go up. It had more zeros than I usually saw in a year, but Grey just nodded. "It will be transferred immediately."

She pursed her lips and stared at him.

He smiled blandly and raised his wrist to his lips, speaking into his comms charm. "Miranda, could you transfer fifty thousand pounds to the account of Madame Duvoir in Magic Side, Chicago?"

"Immediately, sir."

"Excellent." Madame Duvoir said. "Everyone knows how efficient your Miranda is."

"Indeed."

"Now, let's see this book." Madam Duvoir pulled it across the table and flipped it open. She reached for the two locks of hair as well, frowning as she touched them. "You said these are cursed?"

"Yes."

"They're not cursed."

"Yes, they are." Confusion pulled at me. "Mac and Seraphia were surrounded by the same shadows that hovered around the city wall. Then they became ill."

"It's not a curse. I would feel it."

"Try harder." Frustration surged through my veins.

"Mind your manners." Madame Duvoir glared. "I'm never wrong."

"The book." Grey's tone was soothing, and he gripped my hand under the table. Gently, as if he were trying to soothe me as well.

It didn't work. Much.

But I could see his point. We needed whatever info we could get out of Madame Duvoir. I could grill her on Mac and Seraphia once we had more.

Madame Duvoir leaned over the book, studying it, absorbing it. She breathed deeply through her nose and stared at it with a dagger glare. "This is definitely cursed."

"But not the same curse that's on Mac and Seraphia?" I asked.

"Like I said, they aren't cursed."

It made no freaking sense, but I pressed my lips together and waited.

Madame Duvoir held out a hand to Grey. "May I?"

"Yes."

She touched his free hand, closed her eyes, and focused. "You are cursed as well. The curse is similar to the one on this book."

"And therefore, similar to the curse on the wall," Grey said. "They feel identical."

Madame Duvoir nodded. "I'm going to look into this more closely."

She rose and carried the book to a table on the far side of the room, which was covered in a variety of crystals and silver tools.

Placing the book in the center of the table, she circled it with a ring of red powder, lit two pale green candles, whispered an incantation, and blew them out. The smoke was much thicker than it should have been. Trails of it spiraled toward the book in strange patterns. Madame Duvoir turned to us, her eyes gleaming with interest. "You've got quite the problem on your hands."

I leaned toward her. "Who cast the curse?"

"That, I cannot tell you, but it was likely a sorcerer, given the type of magic. However, I do know how you can break it."

Elation surged through me. "That will save my friends."

"They're not cursed, honey."

Irritation prickled my skin, followed by the chill of fear.

Grey's grip on my hand tightened, bringing me back to myself before I snapped.

"If you can break the curse on the wall, you might learn more about your friends' situation," Madame Duvoir continued. "And you may fix the Devil's memory as well."

"You can't break the curse on my mind?" Grey asked.

"I cannot. Messing around with minds is beyond my power. But I can give you a spell to break the curse on the city wall. From there, you are likely to find more clues."

Even if that was all we'd get from her, it was still a lot.

Madame Duvoir scribbled something on a piece of paper, then collected a small bag of crystals and handed them to Grey. "These are on the house because I feel bad about your memory. You still need a few ingredients, and this spell is best cast when the moon is at its zenith."

I stared at the paper in Grey's hand. An incantation was written on it, along with instructions and a complicated drawing of swirls and spirals. But what if—

A shout sounded from below, and Neve hopped up. "Time to leave. The boss's goons are here."

"You'd better go," Madame Duvoir said. "He'll cut you apart as soon as he looks at you."