Anger was a hot fist in my gut. “I can’t believe you gave her a fucking potion,” I hissed.
“You’re always telling me I’m not capable of real magic.” Her arms crossed, and that chin came up. “If so, then it wasn’t a potion but a simple home remedy.”
My eyes narrowed. “You can play word games all you want, but you know damned well that part of what gives magic its power is intention. The sun energy contains incredibly potent magic whether it’s gathered by an Adept or a Mundane. You know that.”
“That girl’s been in real pain. Pain so bad she’s not sleeping at night and spends most of her days in tears.” Baba’s face jutted forward, her eyes glassy with anger.
I sighed. “Regardless, giving a recovering potion addict a philtre is irresponsible.”
“I gave a friend relief from her suffering,” she corrected. “It’s not even addictive magic.”
“It’s a slippery slope, Baba. One you seem far too eager to slide down.”
She reared back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Please,” I said. “You’re always trying to give me your special teas and brews even though I’ve repeatedly told you I don’t want to ingest anything that even smacks of magic.”
Her expression morphed into one of offended pride. “So I’m only allowed to help on your terms.”
“Yes,” I said, my voice rising. I flinched and cast a guilty glance toward the den. “Yes,” I repeated in a less shrill tone. “That’s the whole point of help, right? If you’re going against the person’s wishes then it’s just interfering.”
The instant the words left my mouth, I wanted to snatch them from the air and gobble them back down. But it was too late. Because those hateful words had already crawled inside Baba’s ears and planted inside her brain like some of Aphrodite’s poisonous plants. Her eyes narrowed and her arthritic hands curled into shaking fists.
I raised my chin as she leaned forward. “You think I don’t see what’s happening? You think I don’t know?”
“I—” I began, but stopped when I realized I had no idea how to answer. How could I when fear was tightening my ribs in a cold grip?
“You’re jealous that your boy and your best friend lean on me instead of you.”
I gritted my teeth. We were getting off track and I needed to rein it in before we went totally off the rails. My own guilt over falling off the wagon was making me act unreasonably. If I wasn’t careful, the old woman would have me spilling my guts out about my own sins.
“It’s not that,” I said, looking her in the eye to show I was sincere. “And I’m sorry I gave you grief. I know you were trying to help.”
She sighed, as if willing to give a couple of inches in this battle of will. “But what if she asks for it? She’s in real pain, Kate.”
“She’ll be in worse pain if she gets hooked on magic again. We have to be strong for her.” It was too late for me to take back my own mistakes, but I could make sure Pen never had to deal with the guilt of a relapse.
Her lips pursed as she thought it over. “All right, I’ll stick to Mundane pain relief.”
“Thanks, Baba. Believe it or not, I really appreciate everything you’re doing.”
She pulled me in for an uncharacteristic hug. “I know you do, girlie. Just take care of yourself, too.” She pulled back with her hands on her shoulders. “I can smell the devil water on you.”
I jerked away. “Don’t act like you don’t have a flask in your bosom, old woman.”
Her mouth broke into a wide smile. With one hand, she reached between her pendulous breasts and withdrew a metal flask. “Guilty.” She cackled. “You know what I always say, though, right?”
I shook my head. With Baba there was no telling.
“The skeletons in our closet are proof of a well-lived life.”
Chapter Sixteen
October 23
First Quarter
The next morning I was talking to Mez about the potions Dionysus had taken from Aphrodite when Shadi popped her head into the lab. “Got a minute?”
I glanced at Mez. “Try running the samples through ACD.”
He shrugged. “Worth a try.”
ACD was the Arcane Crimes Database. Sometimes you could find a potion that was used in more than one crime. If Dionysus had sold Aphrodite’s formula to a wiz in another town, we might get a hit. Or not. Either way, it was worth investigating with every tool at our disposal.
Leaving him to that, I went to join Shadi. “What’s up?”
She nodded toward her desk on the other side of the boxing ring. “Got that research you asked me to look up.”
“Cool. But first, how did your meeting with Volos go?”
She shook her head. “It didn’t. He was out of town. Some big meeting in Canada.”
I frowned. “Did his secretary say when he’d be back?”
“Few days. I left my card and asked her to have him give me a call.”
“He won’t,” I said.
“Guess I’ll just have to keep calling until I get him, then.” She had a determined look in her eye that reminded me of a bulldog who’d spotted a juicy bone.
I nodded because that’s exactly how I would have handled it, too. “Good. All right.” I leaned a hip on the desk. “What you got on Dionysus?”
She popped open a folder on the top of the table she used as a desk. “There’s tons of myths about the god, so I’ll focus on the basics. He was the god of wine, parties, and ecstasy. He had these half-goat dudes who were his followers, called satyrs, and a cult of sex freak women, called the Maenads, worshipped him.”
Something niggled at my brain. “Satyrs,” I said. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Maybe nothing, but there was a guy dressed like a satyr at the Halloween Festival.”
“Did he do anything unusual?”
I tilted my head. “You mean other than dress like a half-goat?” I laughed. I tried to think back to the moment I’d seen him. “He just kind of danced around and played a flute. And”—I stopped myself from thinking to the moment when he blew me the kiss—“he flirted with me.”
“Sounds like the god Dionysus, all right. He basically spent his time drinking and fucking.”
“So he was basically every man’s hero?” Morales called from his desk nearby where he was going over recent arrest reports.