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“Oh, and she definitely has been.” I sniffed the air. Just faintly, I could pick up the cloying vanilla of Melony’s perfume. “Her stink’s all over the place.”
“Well, I just figure the person who books these rooms… She could probably be held accountable, don’t you think?”
“It would be a shame if she was.” I met Striga’s gaze with a steely look of my own. “I would hate to see an innocent shifter become wrapped up in Melony’s crimes.”
“You know what else—” Denny started, grinning.
Mama Striga held up a hand and rolled her eyes.
“You two can drop your little act now. You made your point several lines ago. Yes, Melony has been here. I am a healer, and she’s in need of healing. It is not my job to do the FBI’s work for them. But if you insist on threatening me…” She snorted. “I should have you thrown out for that, you little rule-breakers. But, fine, have it your way. I will tell you whatever you want to know.”
“What’s she want from you?” Denny asked. It was a softball of a question, but a good starting point.
“A similar thing to what you wanted when you showed up on my doorstep thirty-five years ago, Dennis Kerry.” Striga’s smirk was back. “She has been here three times in the last week, always for the same thing. She wants my help with a blood curse.”
I raised an eyebrow as I connected the dots.
Denny. A blood curse.
He must have one of his own.
No wonder his anger toward Striga seemed so pointed and personal. It was. He believed her to be a hack, so presumably, she hadn’t been able to break it.
The list of things Denny should have told me before we arrived today was growing longer by the minute.
“Did Melony have a baby with her when she came in?” I asked, doing my best to keep the conversation on track. If Striga kept baiting Denny, we were liable to get kicked out.
“Oh, you could say that.” Striga chuckled, a high and girlish sound. “She seems to think you’re the father, Mr. Miller. She’s very heartbroken over you. And you know what they say about hell and fury and a woman scorned.”
I clenched my jaw. Now I was the one being baited—and damned if it wasn’t coming dangerously close to working. It didn’t surprise me that Melony was continuing to spread her ridiculous lies about me.
Didn’t mean I was any less pissed off about it.
Focus on the positives, I reminded myself.She has a baby with her. Ryder. All signs suggest he’s with her here.
This was the closest I’d been to Ryder since he was taken.
We couldn’t stop now.
“Have you been able to help her?” I asked.
“Alas, no.” Striga pouted. “She does not want the help I provide.”
Denny’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”
“Must I? You know how this works.”
“I know you take a lot of money from a lot of desperate people,” Denny said. “I know you give them bum rituals to complete and stupid potions to drink. I know you’ve got your little cult set up to reassure them that if your fixes don’t work, it’s the victim’s fault, and you’re never to blame. So, if she doesn’t want your snake oil, I’m not sure what she’d keep coming back here for.”
“You spent a full year doing something very similar, as I recall,” Striga said.
“We’re not talking about me,” he growled.
“Hey. Look. I don’t know how this works. Spell it out for me?” I broke the tension in a way I suspected would speak to Striga louder than any words we could have offered her: I pulled out my wallet. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Striga perked up at the sight of the cash nestled between the leather folds. “Of course, Mr. Miller.” Her eyes glimmered flirtatiously again. “You should have led with that.”
She held a hand out. I took a few bills out of my wallet and rose, placing them into her palm. Her large eyes stared up at me expectantly.More.
