Luckily, Gardner didn’t find anything weird about me asking for Harry duty over Volos. “Shadi, you go have a chat with Volos. Even if he hasn’t been targeted, he might have heard something on Dionysus that might help.”
“Fine by me,” she said. “Interviewing a suit like Volos in his sweet office beats chasing stank assholes down by the river.”
“Can I get that embroidered on a pillow?” Morales asked.
“Embroider this.” Chuckling, she flipped him the double birds.
“Okay, you guys have a place to start. Mez, what’s your next move?”
The wizard rose and stretched his arms over his head. “I’m going to call Val over at BPD and see if she’ll share what she found on the letter the mayor received from Dionysus.”
Val was my friend in CSI at the precinct. Despite Mez’s constant flirting with her, she sometimes helped us on the down low when we needed information Eldritch wouldn’t want us to get.
“And if she refuses?” I asked.
Mez smiled at me like he was humoring me. “Then I’ll start working on a new super-strength protection amulet just in case we don’t find this asshole in time.”
Gardner’s jaw tightened. “And I’m going to call in some favors to see if I can get us access to the mental hospital databases. If we can figure out who this guy is, we might stand a chance of catching him before he can make good on his threats.” She looked around the room, meeting each of our gazes directly. “I don’t care what games Eldritch is playing, we’re going to do our jobs and protect the people of this city.”
You could smell the junkyard long before you saw it. Squatting on the edge of Lake Erie in an old industrial area that used to be full of steel factories, Harry Bane’s new headquarters made Rooster’s Gym look like the Four Seasons.
“Least he’s aboveground now,” Morales said with unusual optimism. I nodded absently and kept my eyes on the eight-foot-tall chain-link-and-barbed-wire fence that surrounded the place. Before Harry’s dad, Ramses, was arrested for trying to frame John Volos with his crimes, the Sanguinarian Coven was run out of the abandoned subway tunnels that ran under the Cauldron. But not long after Ramses was arrested—thanks to Harry turning state’s evidence on his father—the city condemned the tunnels and filled all the entrances with concrete. Luckily for Harry, before his dad’s arrest Ramses had diversified the family’s crime empire to include waste management.
Morales steered the SUV to the ancient call box at the front gate. When he punched the black button, the machine crackled with static and high-pitched electronic sounds. Finally, it cleared enough for a voice to come through. “The fuck you want?”
“Need to speak to Hieronymus.”
“He’s indisposed.”
“Tell him it’s Morales and Prospero.”
Silence. We waited a good thirty seconds.
Morales glanced at me. “How long you think he’s gonna make us wait?”
“Long enough.”
Morales scooted down in his seat and closed his eyes. “Good, I could use a nap.”
It took another two minutes before the intercom buzzed again. “You got a warrant?”
Morales opened his eyes and took his time leaning back out the window. “Don’t need one. We’re here as a public service.”
The speaker made another squawk and then the first voice was replaced by Harry’s more familiar one. “Bullshit. You’re here to plant some evidence like you did last time.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned across Morales. “Open the gate, Harry, or I’ll have my friend at the waste management department come down here for a surprise inspection.”
Ten seconds later the gate screeched open on automatic rollers. Morales laughed. “You even got a friend at waste management, Prospero?”
“Of course not.”
He flashed those white teeth. “You’re a trip, Cupcake.”
The car started rolling toward the opening, slowly just in case Harry decided he was clever enough to ambush us. I had a hand on my pistol the entire time. Once we cleared the gate, we were surrounded by a mountain range made out of rusted metal. A road wound through hills of discarded diapers and empty milk cartons and aluminum cans. Soon we came upon a double-wide that served as the yard’s office. Two mangy-looking rottweilers were chained up out front. When we got out, one of the dogs farted, but neither lifted their chins off their paws.
The door to the trailer burst open. Harry emerged with a sneer. His long white hair flowed in the shit-stench breeze coming off his trash kingdom. His pale coloring combined with the black ankh tattooed on his forehead made him look sinister. However, the effect was ruined when his watery blue eyes squinted at the sun. He snapped his fingers at a flunky just inside the trailer and a second later a pair of dark sunglasses appeared in his hand. He stowed the Ray Charles numbers on his face before swaggering down the steps.
The black suit and leather boots he wore probably cost more than my car, but the dust from the junkyard made him look like a dirty crow instead of the grand wizard of a blood coven. The only affectations that actually worked in the entire ensemble were the single red rose on his lapel, which symbolized the sacred blood of his coven, and the walking stick he swung forward with each step. The top of the cane had a crystal skull on it with ruby eyes. I hated to admit it, but it was pretty badass, even when wielded by an utter douche like Harry Bane.
As he came forward, two equally pale assholes emerged from the trailer with suspicious bulges under their shirts. One picked at his few teeth and plentiful gums with a switchblade, while his partner cracked each of his knuckles like a walnut.
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Morales called.
Harry’s narrow face pinched like an anus. “You’ve got five minutes to state your business.”
“Won’t take that long,” I said. “You heard what happened to Aphrodite Johnson?”
Harry’s smile was genuine. “Best news I got all month.”
I tipped my head. “Back in the day one coven leader got hit and all the wizes would circle the wagons.”
He spit on the ground. “Case you haven’t noticed the He-bitch is the last of the old guard still in the game. This a new era, where the strongest wiz wins.”
Morales raised a brow. “Wait, just so we’re clear, by ‘strongest’ you’re referring to yourself?”