Argent eyed Creek’s V-Rod just like he always did. The lure of chrome was too much for him. Dragons might have a high heat tolerance, but they had a serious weakness for shine, which was why Creek kept the thing polished as best he could. Any distraction with Argent was a welcome one. The varcolai took a few steps toward the bike. “Where are you with getting the ring back?”

Lying by omission was still lying, but it didn’t exactly feel like oath-breaking either. “I’m progressing. I know it’s not in the comarré’s possession, but I’m working on finding out who has it.” A little truth, a little half-truth. And now a change of subject. “Something new has come up. One of Seven’s manufactured comarré was murdered. Turned out to be the mayor’s daughter. Mayor thinks I know something since I’m the one who found the body, but I’ve offered to educate her a little on what’s happening in exchange for removing me from the investigation’s focus.”

Argent’s gaze stayed fixed on the machine. “The KM supersedes the mayor’s power. You don’t need to do anything for her.”

“If I’m to live and work in this city, I do.” He checked his watch. He had to do it soon, too. He’d promised to be back at Chrysabelle’s by dusk. That gave him thirty minutes to get out of here and to her house. “Getting on her bad side will only make my job harder. If she feels indebted to me, I can use that down the road.”

Argent shrugged as he strolled slowly around the motorcycle. He trailed a finger over the handlebars. “Suit yourself. But we need that ring back. Samhain is tomorrow night.”

“What do you think could happen?”

Argent stilled and looked at him. “That ring has the power to raise and command an army of undead souls. With the covenant broken, the wrong person gets hold of that ring and even the KM may not be able to save the world from the hell that’s unleashed.”

Damn. “Thanks for the info.” Creek studied the varcolai, thankful Argent couldn’t read his mind. If he, Mal, and Chrysabelle couldn’t get things taken care of in New Orleans and be back before tomorrow night, the KM wasn’t going to be happy. Hell, they weren’t happy with him now. Wait until they found out he’d voluntarily let Chrysabelle have the ring and that she planned on melting it down and embedding it into her skin.

Could the ring’s power transfer into her? Did she even know what the ring’s power was? Not that it mattered. Chrysabelle wasn’t exactly the world-domination type. Which reminded him of a woman who was. “I could use a little intel.”

“On?” The sector chief’s nostrils flared like he was trying to smell the chrome.

“Tatiana. I know we had a source in Corvinestri. Did we get a replacement after Algernon’s death? Because I need to know Tatiana’s status from them.” He moved away from the sink and grabbed his jacket from the hook by the stairs, hoping Argent would take the hint.

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Argent’s head whipped back around. “KM deep-ops are above your pay grade.”

Creek held his hands up, his leather jacket swinging from his fingers. “I’m not asking who the source is. I don’t want to know. I just want to use them to make my job a little easier. That is what they’re there for, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” If Argent had feathers, they would have smoothed. “You suspect she’s here, then.”

“Don’t know.” He slid the coat on, then scooped his helmet off the workbench. “Since the Castus is, that could mean she is, too. Or the Castus has found another way of getting the ring. Maybe she’s screwed up one too many times. Maybe they’re no longer using her.”

Argent half shifted, a sure sign that this conversation was near its end. Wing tips jutted from behind his back, his forked tongue flicking out to lick his lips. “I’ll see what I can find out. Regardless, you follow your leads, get that ring back. If it’s used tomorrow night, the world will never be the same place again.”

Creek snorted before he could catch himself. “It’s not now. And it certainly won’t be after tomorrow night.”

Argent shifted completely, his eyes hooding with a darkness that seemed both threatening and worried. “What it is and what it could be are as different as heaven and hell, because hell is exactly what this world will turn into if that ring gets slipped onto the right finger.”

Chapter Twelve

Ma?” Evie called as she entered the house. She let the screen door slam behind her to announce her presence further. “Ma, you here?” Not that Evie expected an answer. The airboat normally parked beneath the house was gone, and she’d been phoning the house for hours without an answer. Evie’s left eye fluttered involuntarily for a second, then calmed. Damn spasms were getting worse. “Ma, where the heck are you?” Wasn’t like the old woman to go into town without asking if Evie needed anything. Or even to be gone without anyone knowing where she was. She was the coven leader. She had to be available.

“Anyone home?” she asked the empty space. A coffee cup and breakfast dishes sat in the sink. She passed the kitchen and went into the living room. TV was off. The demon was at rest in his aquarium, which meant only a boiling mass of black-red smoke was visible. Her mother’s bag, usually on the side table next to her recliner, was gone. What could be keeping her in town this long? It would be dark in an hour.

Evie flicked one long, clear-polished nail against the aquarium to wake the demon up. Since being unfrozen from her stone prison, the twitching made it impossible to give herself a decent manicure with colored polish.




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