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“What we know of the organization,” Arnaud said. “Including their whereabouts. They are dangerous, but not clever.”
“I trust that you will put this to your advantage. Gentlemen. I bid you good evening.” She nodded at us, then at Arnaud. “Home. I’m very tired. There’s a good lad.”
He smiled tightly at her, then at us, and then the two were off, the gray woman in her silver chair, her assistant in his equally ashen clothing disappearing into the emerald darkness of the arboretum.
The poor woman. I felt better knowing we would solve everything in one blow if we found the Codex: the Viridian Dawn would be stopped, and Enrietta and I both got to live. Win, win, triple win.
None of us spoke for a good few moments. Something about Mrs. Boules seemed so ancient, and so infused with melancholy that it stayed behind like a miasma, cloying and thick. But what really stayed behind was what she had left in her wake. Where her bare feet had touched the ground was the same wet grass as before, only there were now sprays of flowers among them, small and pale, like stars.
Sterling bent down, sniffing at them, then picking one up. It looked so delicate in his fingers, tiny and frail, like Enrietta Boules herself.
“It looks like we’ll need a little help,” Gil said, flipping through the files in Arnaud’s dossier. “An entity, maybe. Dust. You up for it?”
I thought of Dionysus and his poisoned cup, of Arachne and her venomous brood, of Hecate and how all three of her apparitions tried to murder me. But it was all part of the job, I knew, and communing was one of those things I could do well. Do it for Mrs. Boules, I told myself.
“Talk to another entity? Yeah. Sure.” I pushed my hair back, blinking away all thoughts of dying horribly, and mustered my brightest grin. “Who did you have in mind?”
Chapter 10
/> Gil thumbed through the Viridian dossier as we made our way back to the hideout, reading by the light of electric lamps. He seemed to be doing pretty well considering the dark and how fast we were walking, but I chalked it up to his werewolf senses.
“So?” Sterling asked. “Where do we hit? Who do we kill?”
“Shush,” I said, the air streaming out of me in a cloud of mist. “I know this is the Meathook but geez. Someone could hear.”
“Shut up,” Gil said, running his finger across the pages. “Right. Says here that the cult is hiding out in a residence, somewhere near the Gridiron.”
So a house close to the industrial district. It made sense. Lots of activity and plenty of movement in and out, so much that no one would question shipments and deliveries. The fact that normals had no way of detecting or even knowing that arcane curiosities existed was, of course, a bonus. They were hiding in plain sight.
“So we torch the place,” Sterling said, lighting yet another cigarette. “Easy peasy. Everything burns down, then we sift through the ashes and pick out what’s left.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t alert the normals. You know how police and firefighters work, right? They’ll pick the place clean. And what’s the chance that the Codex will survive the fire? We don’t even know what it is. Could be a grimoire.”
Sterling blinked and stared at me blankly for a moment, the cigarette dangling from his lips. “It was a stupid joke, and you had to make a whole thing out of it. What we need to do is infiltrate.” He nodded at the sheaves of documents in Gil’s hands. “What’s a good time?”
“The day, it looks like. Apparently the vast majority of the Viridian Dawn’s members still carry on with their regular lives. It’s not a cult in that sense, per se. Which means that with the cultists living their day-to-day lives and working their jobs – ”
“The house is more likely to be empty by day,” I said. “Or at least more lightly guarded.”
“Correct. But we’re probably going to need all hands on deck for this one. Floor plan is showing multiple levels, it’s a pretty big building. Carver might have to come with.”
The hairs at my nape pricked up. Carver was coming? Wow. I’d never seen him on a mission before. I had pretty limited experience with his abilities, having seen him disintegrate solid objects into motes of worthless dust. Gotta admit, it both excited and terrified me to wonder whether he could do that to people. I stuck my hands into my coat pockets and shuddered.
Gil folded up the documents, slipping them back into the envelope and under his jacket. “We’ll have to find some way to take Sterling with us, too. We need all the help we can get.”
Sterling folded his hands behind his head. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Dibs on the magic users. Their blood is tastier.” He blew out a puff of smoke, then gave me a slow, meaningful wink. I shuddered again.
We raised the shutters on Mama Rosa’s restaurant, unwinding the chains holding the glass door together after turning keys in the three different padlocks she used to secure the place. Tedious, yes, but it kept her restaurant safe, and our domicile even safer. Besides, in an emergency, Carver could easily wave his hand and unlock all of them in a single go. The restaurant was empty by then, about four or so in the morning, which meant she’d already gone home, but unsurprisingly, Carver was perched at one of the tables, chin resting in his clasped hands, eyebrows set expectantly.
“Well?”
Gil handed him the dossier, briefing him on what we’d discussed.
“Excellent. Good work taking initiative on planning, Gilberto.”
Gil shrugged, but I could tell he was hiding a smile. Carver had that effect on people. You wanted to show him you were good at your work, and you wanted to hear him say it, too.
“I agree,” Carver continued. “This is a four-man job, and we’ll definitely need Sterling on board. I also agree that we’ll want an entity’s intervention to smooth the creases in this project.” He rubbed his chin, stroking his beard. “We could shroud the place in darkness.”
