Page 87 of Bitter Spirits

“Hound.”

Locke looked at Isa.

Her expression was empty of emotions and her voice flat as she pointed at Angel. “You should know that Cora and Carter made a deal with Angel. They provided the initial sample, and for a cut, they connected him to a supplier.” The ghostly skeletal mask flickered. “I searched her memories for who the supplier was, but her recollections have been scrubbed.”

“Someone used a Memory mage on her?” Zev asked.

Isa cocked her head in that disturbing alien way. “Apparently so. I was unable to get anything more than that.” She turned back to Locke. “You still wish to question Angel?”

His yes hovered on the tip of his tongue, but considering how much of a threat the Harvester had been in life, he had to ask. “Can he hurt you?”

A flash of cold amusement was there and gone. “Harvesters feed on the living. My business is death. There’s nothing for him to eat.”

Not exactly reassuring, but he had to trust that Isa would respect her limits. “Then yes, I have some questions for him.”

“So do I,” Zev added.

“So be it,” Isa murmured as the shadows clustered until the Reaper’s hood settled around her, hiding her face from view.

A wind whipped the frayed edges of her cloak, and a curved staff formed in her hand, flickering in and out of view as murmurs and wails gathered, there but indistinct. The writhing shadows thickened as they moved around Angel’s body, carrying an icy chill. Locke’s skin crawled as ebony ribbons, dotted with lightning streaks, erupted from the body lying between him and Zev. Locke’s magic sank into a crouch, ready to pounce, but held itself in check, letting Isa do her job. Even knowing it was coming, he wasn’t ready for the storm of power to switch off or the resulting unnatural stillness.

“Rise.” The command held undeniable power, and it pulled at Locke’s bones.

Angel’s soul came together and hovered between the Hound and the Hunter. “What—who—” It caught sight of the shadow-covered body below it. Anger, arrogance, and fear washed through its face as it looked at the Reaper standing silently at its feet. “¡No me jódes! What did you do, chiquita?”

Isa said nothing.

Enraged, the wraith shot forward. “What did you do?”

Before Locke could interfere, heavy coils of magic looped around the spirit and held it in place inches from the Reaper. “You will answer the Hound’s questions.”

Struggling against the bonds, Angel’s soul snarled in defiance. “And if I don’t?”

There was a shift, then Angel screamed as the binding power whipped around him, shredding his form. “¡Basta!”

The power released him, and the Reaper’s hood turned to Locke. “Ask your questions.”

Not knowing how long Isa could hold Angel, he got to the point. “Who is the supplier Cora set you up with?”

The answer came grudgingly. “I don’t know.”

Locke wanted to call bullshit, but Isa didn’t react, which meant it was the truth. “How is that possible? You don’t strike me as the type to go into business with an unknown.”

Anger and disgust twisted Angel’s face. “I trusted Carter.”

“He was desperate,” Isa said, speaking over Angel. “He needed money fast. To replace what he stole.”

The pieces started to fall into place. Desperate, Angel must have stolen from less-than-understanding sources, like those who avoided legal scrutiny. Isa had once told him Angel’s legit businesses were a front.

“You were stealing from your own, weren’t you?” Locke asked.

Angel jerked against the relentless chains. Magic flared, and he hissed in pain. “They are not mine. They worked for me, but if they found out the money was gone, they’d have turned. I needed a quick fix. The distribution cut would cover it until I lined up investors.”

Arrogance and stupidity were not a good combination. Locke wondered how Angel had managed to hold his position as long as he had.

“Give us the name of your supplier,” Zev bit out.

Angel didn’t even acknowledge him. Isa had set it up so Angel had to answer Locke. So Locke repeated Zev’s demand.