And I had a very short supply of those. I wouldn’t let a single death god take anyone else from me. It wasenough.No, it was already too fucking much. Byron. Honey. My brother, made into a supernatural creature. Me, too.No more.
Misery sat on my left, Madde pressing close on my right as I tried to get through to Duncan again, to no avail. Robotic, like Madde said.
“Can we do anything?” I whispered to my men. “Duncan’s a good person; he doesn’t deserve this. Wil doesn’t, either.”
Justin, on the other hand, had acted threateningly towards Honey that day in the garage. I’d never got a bad vibe from him before that, but that day shifted my view of him. Was he one of Nightmare’s minions? Was hestillone of Cruelty’s henchmen?
“Let’s see.” Madde rested his elbows on the table, his fingers flicking and swirling in the air. Unlike the cat’s cradle he made with the shadow pyre, this was a net of vibrating death magic.
“Be careful,” I breathed, casting a look around the room. No one was paying attention to us as far as I could tell. “Don’t hurt them. Except Justin. You can hurt him a little.”
“Which one’s Justin?” Madde asked, his tongue poking out as he concentrated on widening his net of magic. “Normcore, Clearly Bisexual, or Oxford Librarian?”
I tried not to laugh. “Normcore?” I would have called him Try Hard, because he threw cash on designer clothes to look messy and slouchy and like he didn’t give a shit. He could have achieved a more authentic look by walking into any vintage or second-hand shop. No one went to that much effort to be effortless.
The effect of Madde’s magic was instantaneous. Duncan’s emotionless face twisted into a snarl, and he shoved Justin away from him. “Prick,” he spat.
“You’re one to fucking talk,” Justin snarled back.
Wil just met my eyes with a wide-eyed stare, panic practically bleeding from him.
“Are you okay?” I asked, startled by the contrast between their empty eyes a second ago and the riot of life and emotion in them now.
Wil’s hands shook as he raised them to his face, dragging them through his blonde hair. “I’d love to say I’m okay, babes, but I’m not. I don’t know how the hell I got here.”
I winced. What could we tell them? Miz decided to skip that part altogether. He leaned across the table and grabbed the front of Justin’s baggy hoodie. “Have you seen a prairie dog?”
Justin’s eyes widened, the colour bleaching from his tanned face. “Anne-Marie Evangeline had a Pomeranian but she… oh god. She was murdered last week. How did I forget that?How did I forget that?”
“Focus,” Miz snapped, shaking Justin. “Aprairiedog. Small, golden-brown fur, cute as fuck, big dark eyes.”
“I-I’m sorry, man,” Justin stuttered, his eyes wide and distant, as if he was remembering a week’s worth of trauma. Maybe more. “I don’t know what that is.”
“Hey,” Wil snapped, getting to his feet. “Let him go. I know he’s a prick but can’t just grab the guy.”
Miz whipped around to face Wil. “Tell me what you know.Where is she?”
“Miz,” I breathed, reaching out to rest my hand on his back. “I don’t think they know anything.”
“They have to!” he argued.
Justin’s eyes shifted away from us, then back. He got unsteadily to his feet.
I narrowed my eyes, reminded of my suspicion of this fucker. “What did you say to Honey that day in the garage?”
“Nothing,” Justin replied too quickly.
I didn’t look away from him when I said, “Madde, darling.”
My husband took no further encouragement. He flicked a glimmer of dark magic at Justin, and the remaining colour bleached from his face. His breathing came quicker, a glint of insanity in his eyes. He grabbed at his head, ripping at his hair until a chunk came out.
“Answer me,” I said coldly. “My best friends are both dead, and you know something about Honey. Tell me.”
“Jesus, Cat,” Duncan breathed, still sitting at the table across from me, watching as if he’d never seen me before.
“I-I—” Justin spluttered, shaking so hard his hands blurred.
“Tell her,” Miz commanded in a voice of steel and ice. “Now!”
