“Which people?” Morales asked.
LM shrugged, his eye skittering to the side. “Forgive me, Special Agent, but I’m not at liberty to share details about our confidential business with an officer of the MEA.”
Morales rolled his eyes. It’s not like we didn’t know that LM and Mary were tits-deep in the magic trade in the Cauldron. It’s just that by comparison they were relatively small fish in a filthy pond full of bottom feeders. Arresting them for their small-time potion deals would be like capturing a tadpole when there was a school of barracuda swimming past.
“If this business of yours has anything to do with the case we’re working,” I said, “it’d be in your best interest to give us some names.”
LM shook his head. “This ain’t none of your business, Prospero.” His tone was so serious it gave me pause. Little Man wasn’t ever Mr. Happy Good Time, but he usually enjoyed busting my balls during our meetings. Something was up. He knew I’d go to bat for him if it was in my power to do so, but for some reason he believed I either wouldn’t or—more likely—couldn’t help him with this one.
I nodded. “I hear you. Just make sure you two watch your asses. I don’t have time to train new snitches.”
That finally earned me a chuckle. “Ah, shit, girl. You’re a trip, you know that?”
“That’s funny. I thought she was just a pain in the ass,” Morales added.
LM laughed again. “I hear that, Macho.” He held up his uninjured hand. Morales paused only a fraction of a second before he leaned in to slap the homunculus some skin. When he pulled back I held my breath, worried he might do some stupid thing like wipe his hands on his jeans, but he didn’t.
“Anyway, don’t worry about us,” LM said. “This busted lip is a fucking pussy magnet.”
Vomit rose in the back of my throat at the mental image conjured by his words. I felt rather than saw Morales shudder next to me. LM cackled and raised his hand for another high five, this time in my direction, but I sidestepped it verbally. “Anyway, we were wondering if you two heard anything about this asshole calls himself Dionysus.”
Mary, who’d been staring off into the middle distance, as was her habit, suddenly became very alert. Her massive melon head jerked up and she stared at me like I was her enemy. LM felt her go tense and started patting her arm. “Shh, Sissy,” he whispered. To me he narrowed his eyes. “Who told you?”
I froze. “Wait. He did this to you?”
The small face scrunched up with confusion. “You mean you didn’t bring him up like that to see how we’d react?”
I frowned and shook my head. “No, we’re investigating him for real. I had no idea you were connected to him.”
LM crossed his arms over his tiny chest. “Well, fuck. I knew we shoulda skipped out of town before this fucking moon got its claws in the city.”
“Why didn’t you?” Morales asked.
LM’s posture changed. His movements hesitant, as if he was worried about giving away too much. “That’s the thing. This business I mentioned, it came up last minute right before we was gonna leave.”
“Wait,” I said, “Dionysus approached you?”
Mary stiffened again at the mention of the name. LM shushed her and then reluctantly looked at us again. I raised a brow. “Fuck,” he said. “Fine. What’s-his-name came to me couple weeks back—just after the last full moon. Said he heard I was the man to talk to for information.”
I nodded because that much was true. No sense asking how Dionysus figured out LM was the guy. It was common knowledge in the Cauldron that the homunculus knew everything. The only thing keeping the little shit alive was his sister’s reputation for violent overprotection and that most people were just plain freaked out by the pair. “What kind of information?” I asked.
“Said he wanted to know who the key players in town were. Paid real well for a list of the top wizes and their specialties.”
“Was he after something particular?” Morales asked.
LM shrugged. “At first no. He just took the list and paid me. But last week he comes back demanding to know why I didn’t list all the Cauldron’s wizes.”
I frowned. “Who’d you leave off?”
The homunculus looked me in the eye. “Aphrodite and Volos.”
“Goddamn it.” I felt Morales shoot me a look but ignored him. “What about them?”
“I left the Hierophant off the list because I was afraid it’d get back to her/m and s/he’d poison our asses.” Little Man crossed his arms with a huff. “And I didn’t put Volos on the list ’cause he’s all legit and shit.”
I raised my brows to indicate I didn’t believe Little Man was naive enough to think Volos was really out of the game completely.
He shrugged. “Leastwise, ain’t nobody knows of any new potions he’s produced in a few years.” He waited for me to acknowledge that.
Truth was Volos had put a potion out in the last few months, but it was the legit antipotion he’d created with my help to battle the dirty potion Ramses Bane put on the streets. Still, LM’s point held up because all that aside, Volos still hadn’t been a player in the Votary Coven in years—not since he betrayed Uncle Abe and testified against him in court in exchange for a clean slate.
“So Dio”—Morales shot a worried glance in Mary’s direction—“err, the asshole came back demanding to know why Volos wasn’t on the list specifically?”
LM shook his head. “No, he came back saying I had to have left someone off. Got the impression he’d checked out all the other alchemists on the list and didn’t find whatever it was he was looking for. So he figured I musta left someone off.”
“Did you figure out what he was looking for?” I asked.
“Said he knew a wizard in Babylon had ordered a large shipment of calamus root recently. That’s what he was after, see? When he checked out the others and didn’t find those barrels, he knew I’d left someone off.”
“Calamus root?” Morales asked.
“It’s used in some Hoodoo traditions to gain control over someone’s will,” I explained quickly. “I didn’t see it listed as an ingredient for Aphrodite’s potions.”
“So it was Volos.” Morales didn’t sound surprised, and frankly neither was I. He was developing a bad habit of getting himself tangled in my cases. A bad habit I was going to have to cure him of ASAP before it got more people hurt—or worse, cost me my job.