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“I’ll make snacks for you and Colby. I’ll even watch you guys slay orcs.” I smiled. “Promise.”
With a nod, he began a careful examination of the area, filling his lungs and exhaling in loud gusts.
“Old blood.” His nostrils flared wide. “Old bones too.”
Much like Savannah, Georgia, and New Orleans, Louisiana, this city was built on the dead. It didn’t vibrate under your feet here the way it did for me in those places, but I trusted the daemon’s nose.
“Anything recent?”
“No new blood.” He fixated on the area around the wreath. “No new bones either.”
“The cleaners did their job well. Too well. We need more samples of the black magic used here.”
A single touch would have allowed me to compare the peculiar offering to the teacher’s remains, but, as I was often reminded, I carried my own black aura. I couldn’t risk contaminating any new evidence when we had so little. A fingerprint wasn’t a big deal to the lab. I was on file and easily eliminated. Same as the fingerprint they would find on the teacher’s remains. Powerful magical signatures were harder to erase.
I had been greedy for answers on the boat. I couldn’t be so careless a second time.
“This new.” He crouched beside the token. “Same as leg.”
A gesture of contrition didn’t fit with the mental picture I was building of this killer. And the oleanders? I couldn’t fathom how the symbolism applied here. Oleanders signified complicated relationships. Endless love. Destiny. Desire. Romance. Weird choice, when you think about how every part of the plant is toxic.
Years spent playing apothecary shopkeeper had me seeking meaning when there probably was none.
Other than oleanders were readily available and easy to harvest from the city-maintained garden beds.
“Okay.” I checked the alley again. “Can you let me talk to Asa for a minute?”
“Caramel apple.”
I waited, but he didn’t elaborate.
“Okay, I’ll bite.” I caved before he did. “What about a caramel apple?”
“You have Asa back if I get caramel apple.” His eyes gleamed. “With nuts.”
Fighting the urge to chuckle at his blackmail attempt, which shouldn’t have been as cute as it was, I agreed. “One caramel apple with nuts, if you give Asa back to me before we get caught.”
A beat too late, I grasped that I had fallen into the same bribery trap as Clay had with Colby, and I could have kicked myself.
From the look on his grinning face as flames licked over him and flickered down him, he knew it too.
For a second, Asa stood there, regaining his bearings as he often did after a transition.
And then his boxers, stretched to capacity, fell around his ankles.
The messages etched in moss absorbed my attention, and I crossed to investigate, giving him my back.
“That has—” I felt certain, “—never happened before.”
Pretty sure the Hulk would envy Asa’s extensive Black Hat wardrobe. Particularly the stretchy underwear pioneered for shifters. His slacks also expanded to accommodate multiple girths, but the shirt and jacket got trashed each time. Shoes too. Had he lost any of those, okay, fair. But his underwear? Again? Really?
“He’s jealous.” Fabric rustled when Asa shifted his weight. “He wants to spend more time with you.”
“We might have to let him out more in the suites.” I made it sound like he was a pet tired of his crate, and I cringed from the comparison. “Between the price tags on the properties, and the bustling tourist trade, this area is under constant surveillance. Otherwise, visitors to the city might be tempted to claim a memento or carve their name into a hundred-year-old oak. I imagine everyone has private security of some kind.”
Which explained the earlier creeping sensation warning me there were eyes on us.
Likely, there had been. Just electronic ones.
