Using my title meant that things were grim in the extreme. “That sounds . . . bad. Dangerous. Do you need me there?” I made a swirling motion to Alex and he went to work. With one hand, he was shoveling in broccoli and cheese with the commitment and momentum only a growing teenaged boy can display. Cheesy broccoli was a new addition to his very short list of favorite foods, so much so that the Kid had even learned to make the dish. With his other hand, Alex pulled one of his electronic tablets close and brought up satellite maps of the Waddill Wildlife Refuge. It was a swampy landmass near the Comite River, near Baton Rouge.
Eli picked up his fork and placed his napkin across his lap, his brown eyes on me. I could tell he didn’t want me to leave.
“No,” Bruiser said firmly. “From what I can deduce, it’s very bad. Leo has dispatched the other Onorios at his disposal to the pit, to retrieve her. They and a dozen human blood-servants are leaving in minutes on a rescue mission.”
That told me even more. Onorios were hard to kill, and they did politically high-level, often dangerous, important stuff. But not usually together. That Leo was sending the two others said a lot about several aspects of this situation. “Oookaaay,” I said, drawing out the word as I continued to put things together. It sounded as if Leo didn’t need me to go on this assignment, which was enough to make me want to happy-dance, despite the sore muscles that were setting up residence in my limbs. Starved vamps were hazardous, blood-sucking, insane killing machines. With my skinwalker metabolism and ability to shift into other creatures to save my life, I was usually very hard to kill—even harder to kill than an Onorio—but that didn’t mean I went looking for a mauling, especially right now. “So this is a call to cancel our date and tell me good-bye so you and your buddies can do hazardous, death-defying Onorio things?” I managed to stifle the plaintive note that wanted to sneak into my voice. We had been busy, and date nights had become few and far between. “Should I take you off speakerphone?”
As if he knew my reaction to Bruiser’s broken plans, Eli chuckled under his breath, a sound that was remarkably wicked.
“Yes and no. Your introduction to the Rock N Bowl will have to be put off for tonight.” His voice warmed slightly, “Though, I would much, much rather be with you, instructing you in the proper body mechanics of bowling, than climbing into a water-filled pit with a starving Mithran.”
Me too. Especially with that emphasis on body mechanics. I fingered my tattered braid. I’d had such plans.
“Your own well-being aside, you are a potential liability, Enforcer.” That made me sit up. “You were attacked in your home with magic, an attack that may have triggered more magic in Gee DiMercy to attack you. Until the spells targeting you are dealt with, you’re a possible liability around all things magical.”
“And how is that gonna be dealt with?” I asked, heat in my tone.
“Leo has contacted Molly Everhart Trueblood to check you out when they get there.” His voice lightened when he added, “And he offered a very nice fee for her professional services.”
“Oh.” I sat back. “Okay. That works.”
“But you aren’t totally off the hook,” Bruiser said. Eli’s eyes tightened and he was eating with practiced, mechanical motions “I have already reported to Leo and, once the imprisoned Mithran is retrieved and safe, Leo wants you involved in the investigation, in your official capacity.”
Official capacity meant my Enforcer capacity, which was why he was sounding so formal. Enforcer was a job I had taken by accident and then accepted for real, not because I liked Leo, but because regular income was important, vamp money was good, I got to learn new stuff about the supernatural world, got time to build my business, got to stay close to the Cherokee Elder who was teaching me about myself and my long-forgotten past, and I got to stay in New Orleans near my . . . well . . . near my boyfriend, or whatever the proper term was for the almost-relationship that Bruiser and I had. But mostly because I was in a position to help my witch friends stay safe; making sure the Witch Conclave went off without a hitch was a big part of that.
Official capacity also meant that I’d be enforcing Leo’s will on whoever had put Ming in a hole in the ground. I’d be executioner, if that was called for. Not my favorite part of the job, but I was good at it. Very good. Usually. I slid my fingers against the scar tissue in my side. It was less ropy and stiff and far less painful. Even when keeping Beast down, as Beta, I healed faster than any human.
Bruiser said, “Once we get the pit drained and Ming of Mearkanis to safety, you’ll need to bring Yellowrock Securities and work up the pit.”
“Oh, hell,” Eli muttered.
“Happy, happy, joy, joy,” I said, knowing my sarcasm was transmitted over the cell. We’d be looking for clues to the witchy, Mithran, or human person or persons who took her, standing knee deep in mud and muck and mosquitoes.
Small biting things. Hard to catch, my Beast thought. I didn’t respond, rolling up a slice of ham and chewing it.
Alex, the electronics whiz part of our team, opened another one of the tablets on the table and created a file to take notes in, typing in the location and what little information we had. “Okay,” I said to Bruiser. “What else do you know so far?”
“According to the photos I’m texting you, the hole she’s in is beneath a rough-cut wooden trapdoor set directly into the ground and covered with leaves. I think the Mithran is chained with silver to a cement wall set in the mud. From the scent, the skeletal remains of humans are in there with her, and if it’s Ming, it’s possibly her blood-servants, Benjamin and Riccard. The water table is so high that the pit is almost full of swamp water. There’s no power to the site, no easy access in, despite the roads that border it and the rutted one that bisects it. We have to bring in massive amounts of pump machinery, generators, fuel to run them, and lights to work by, shovels, tools to break the chains. Maybe wood to shore up the pit,” he added.