Enchanted Execution Page 11

  That makes me wonder how Luke takes his blood. Which is totally off topic. Which makes me bump into Clo’s table and spill Eudora’s thimble-sized teacup.

  “Sorry!”

  Eudora just gives me a pitying shake of the head. Clo narrows her eyes. She is makeup free today. And I was right about her scare factor. She looks like an ice carving. Cold, hard in a way that says, ‘I’ll freeze your blood in your bones.’ I’m not sure if she or Gor the Goblin would win a ‘my worst nightmare’ contest. Maybe her because she’s in front of me.

  Bennett and Flowers pull another table over and sit. Seena struggles to do the same, so I help him. Underneath all the gauze, the tables are glass. And heavy. Seena and I sit.

  Flowers takes the lead, which surprises me.

  “Ladies, we just wanted to speak with you a little about the incident a few days ago. We’d like to keep this low-key. With the understanding that we’re just looking for more information right now.”

  “Of course,” Clo gives a brief nod, face devoid of emotion. Most white witches are smiley and have a hippy earth-loving vibe. But not her. And I don’t know if it’s because she specializes in winter spells or because she’s secretly a dark heart disguising herself as an undercover spy so she can annihilate the other side.

  I have to turn off the conspiracy button in my brain as Clo starts speaking. I’ll never beat Seena by coming up with wild and impossible theories. Clues. I need clues.

  “We knew, of course, the night prior to the announcement, that Eudora wasn’t going to be selected.”

  I’m the only one who raises my eyebrows.

  Eudora sees it and brushes some pixie dust over her throat to speak. “Winner gets notified so they can prepare their speech.”

  I toss her a nod of thanks.

  Clo continues, “Of course, we never planned for Eudora to actually win. The chances of the mayor choosing to upset the balance of representation was very slim.”

  “May I ask why you nominated her?” Flowers tilts his head as if he’s genuinely interested. And I have trouble not staring at him. Who the heck is sitting across from Clo? And where did my hard-ass teacher go? He’s gotta be pulling this polite shit out of his ass.

  Eudora jumps in. “A Wing position is coming open. Clo’s trying to convince me to go for it. She thought I needed a little boost to my resume.”

  My jaw drops a bit. Wing positions are very rare. Beyond the Veil, they’re incredibly powerful. Wings negotiate treaties, work on immigration laws, deal with law enforcement for foreigners. With Clo as a Councilor and Eudora as a Wing, there could be a lot of changes coming for Tres Lunas.

  Eudora winks at me. “Yup. Lots riding on that. Wouldn’t be a death on the battlefield per se. I’m still not convinced I’m the best fit for the job. I’d still get to carry a sword. But the chattering every day. Not sure how she puts up with all of it. Swords solve problems faster than words.”

  Clo rolls her light blue eyes at that. “Short term solution.”

  Eudora turns to her. “Well, now, with a serial killer stalking you all, it does make that sorta job a little more appealing.”

  This time it’s Bennett that interjects. “That’s just media speculation.”

  “I dunno. They’re usually right.” Eudora gestures to her teacup and Clo somehow manages to refill the tiny cup without spilling any. The pixie takes a sip. “Rumors all start from somewhere.”

  “Clo, there were some specific items we’d like to ask you about. A few years ago, you took a class at a local community college.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Which one? Pottery? Magical bindings? Anatomy?”

  “You go to community college?” Eudora looks taken aback. “I didn’t know that.” She almost seems offended. Like she should have been told. Are they that close?

  Clo waves her off. “It’s just one of those things. The PR rep for the Council suggested we all do more community activities.”

  Bennett leans forward, trying to keep his voice low. “What we were really interested in was a class you took on potions.”

  The white witch cocks her head. “Okay. That was a while back.”

  Bennett gestures to Seena. My Persian pal slides over a printout of Clo’s final paper.

  Clo’s eyes widen as she reads the title. Her pupils dilate. She glances up, and I think I might see worry cracking those ice-like features. “Is Dormio …?” she lets her tone trail off, the perfect politician. Aware that we’re surrounded by a group of nosy gossips.

  Flowers gives a curt nod.

  Clo’s eyes widen. She turns to Eudora. “Would you mind if I go to your room for a moment?”

  “’Course,” Eudora takes a gulp of tea. “I’m gonna flit outside for a smoke.” Clearly, the fairy knows something’s up.

  Clo stands. We all stand. I worry for a second that she’s gonna make a run for it. But she scoops up her final paper, threads a hand through Bennett’s arm and says, “Follow me.”

  Looks like she’s not gonna run. If she’s not gonna run, then she’ll probably talk. But whatever she wants to say isn’t something she wants overheard.

  Seena and I share a glance as we thread back through the teatime mess.

  Are we about to get a big break in this case?

  As we trot up the stairs, I hear Bennett’s radio chirp. He turns off the speaker attached to his shoulder.

  Clo unlocks a door on the right and holds it open. We start to file in, but Bennett’s cell starts to buzz. He sighs and glances down at it. “Sorry. Have to take this. Go ahead and get started, Flores.” He steps back into the hall and lets Flowers shut the door behind him. Of course, he doesn’t bother to sit.

  The rest of us perch on heart-shaped pink velvet chairs set on a red rug that has little cupids woven throughout.

  “Clo, I believe that you wanted to tell us something?” Flowers puts his arms behind his back and waits patiently.

  Clo takes a minute to sit and stare at the paper in her hands. “This won’t get out right? No reason for it to be in your final reports?”

  “I can’t guarantee anything until I know what you’re going to share.”

  She sighs. “Of course not. Look, the classes were a PR move, alright? Nothing more. Show up. Mingle. That’s it.”

  Seena stiffens beside me.

  “Okay …” Flowers waits for her to continue.

  “Look. My job is stressful. There are a lot of long hours. I don’t have time for … homework. Okay?”

  Flowers stays quiet and stares at her. It makes Clo squirm. Heck, it makes me squirm.

  Seena clears his throat. “Are you saying your teachers passed you without turning in any homework?”

  Clo’s cheeks turn the palest shade of pink. “No.”

  “Are you saying you turned in homework?” Flower’s voice is soft, almost gentle.

  “Yes.”

  “And you did not do the homework you turned in?”

  She sighs. “Yes.”

  “Who did it?”

  She shrugs. “I dunno. I just went to one of those sites online. Homework Wizards or something.”

  Flowers tilts his head. “And did you tell them what to write about?”

  Clo shakes her head adamantly. “Nope. No time. I’d just scan the assignment pages. Tell them the due date. Pay.”

  Flowers takes out a notebook and a pen. “Can I get your password and login to the college and to the Wizards site?”

  Clo nods and takes the paper from him. “Can this be kept off the record?”

  “I honestly can’t say just yet. We’ll have to look into who was writing those papers for you. Because whoever it was ended up being quite the authority on this poison.”

  Clo slumps in her chair. “Dammit.”

  Bennett smacks open the door. “Dammit all.” He looks straight at Flowers. “Get what you need?”

  Flowers nods and grabs the notebook back from Clo. “Yup.”

  “Good. Thanks Councilor. Everyone, move out.” Bennett stomps down
the stairs without another word. And I mean stomps. Even though Hearts and Powers has a plush velvet carpet for the stairs, I can still hear his feet smashing each step.

  I give Clo a brief nod of respect and hurry out to the car.

  Bennett doesn’t speak until he’s pulled out of the parking lot and is racing down the street. “I got a call from dispatch. There’s a new body.”

  Well crap on a cracker. Bennett’s fury is heating the car. Sweat is pouring down Seena’s forehead. I don’t speak. I’m not sure what Bennett will do. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him this mad.

  “Shit. Councilor?” Flowers is the only one brave enough to break the silence.

  Bennett shakes his head. “Nope. Looks like the cameraman might have witnessed something that day.”

  “Cameraman?”

  “Channel Thirteen.”

  My jaw drops. That wimpy weirdo guy? Wizard maybe? Did we even question him thoroughly? I remember he and Jackie were harassing people for interviews.

  My gaze flickers sideways toward Seena. Good. At least he looks as floored by this as I am.

  My phone buzzes.

  City Council Killer Strikes Again!

  “Um guys? The press knows.”

  We all have to duck when Bennett’s head shifts to dragon and he accidentally spews flame.

  Chapter 16

  Bennett screeches to a halt when we get to the courthouse parking lot. The scent of singed hair is strong in the air, though he managed to get it under control before he burned the leather seats. He’s back to full human now and spits out orders. “Flores, you check the tape for anything the camera guy might have caught. Seena, verify Clo’s info. Fox, I’ll call you with assignments if anything comes up.”

  Mr. French gives everyone an assignment but me. Favoritism? Or punishment for my date with Luke? He knows how bad I want to prove myself. It’s gotta be punishment. I glare at him before climbing out. Fine. Act like you don’t need my help. I don’t care. You’re just the boss. That’s all.

  I’m about to professionally storm off when Flowers calls my name.

  “Fox! You were still on the bottom of the class for spells tonight.”

  I turn slowly, gritting my teeth. “Yes, sir.”

  “You get to shred old confidential files. Eight boxes. In my office.”

  I give a brisk nod, testing my ability to murder him with my eyes. It doesn’t work. Disappointing.

  “And during that, remedial lecture.”

  “Looking forward to it.” I picture smashing his face with my fist. Whacking him with baseball bat. Throwing darts to watch those stupid perfect muscles pop like balloons. No, I don’t hate him. He just inspires violent monologues. That’s not hatred, right? That’s poetry … with blood.

  And hell no. I’m not projecting anything from Bennett. I don’t give two shits what that stupid dragon does.

  “Yuck fou,” I mutter as I trudge behind Flowers down the hallway, unable to end the suckiest day of my career thus far.

  Flowers kindly has maintenance drag the boxes and a shredder to his office. But no chair. So, I get to sit on the floor like a two-year-old. Did I say bat? That’s too swift. Too good for him. Now I’m thinking rusty nails. Covering his tiger form in duct tape and slowly pulling it off again and again.

  Flowers ducks out to check on Seena as I get to work and it’s a box of shredding before he rejoins me. The smell of Korean barbecue teases me. Of course, he’s going to eat while I work. My violent fantasies take on a cooking edge. Like boiling one toe at a time.

  “Tell me what you know about our demographics.” He leans against his desk and unwraps some spicy skewers of meat.

  “Um … we’re a town of mainly magical creatures?” The shredder gets mad at me for stuffing too many papers down its face. I have to reverse it and rip the papers out of its jaw before starting over. Stupid fricking government. Paying for shredders that only eat five pages at a time.

  “Total population?”

  “Close to three hundred thousand.”

  “Two-hundred eighty-thousand give or take. What percentage of the different populations do we have?”

  Crap. Numbers. He wants numbers? I rack my brain. I know shifters and fae are a big part of the population. No true majority. I don’t think. “Shifters are um… forty percent?”

  “Thirty-one point five. How about fae?”

  “Um … less.”

  Flowers waves a skewer at me. “Less is not a number.”

  “Twenty …” His head starts to bob and then he realizes he’s helping me guess. He stops. No. Don’t help me. Of course not. Why help when you can torture? Dickwad.

  “Twenty-six-point-three percent.”

  “Is the point three really important?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s what it is.”

  Oh geez.

  “What’s the next largest population?”

  “Goblins.” I’m sure of that only because Becca made a dumb joke about them gobblin’ up the competition during class.

  “Correct.” Flowers gets a call and he takes it out into the hallway before answering.

  He shuts me in. And I shred, shred, shred. I take a bathroom break and text JR to let her know I’ll be late to wedding sweatshop.

  She texts back that they’ll set up at Sarah’s apartment tonight. I cross my fingers and hope that means the Southern woman will provide a spread. I’m starving. Even Flower’s nasty spicy meat sticks are starting to smell appealing.

  I get back to shredding and start on a new confidential box. It’s about a wife who helped her husband hide his shifter serial eater tendencies. He didn’t just like to hunt rabbits. He liked to hunt rabbit shifters. The creep factor is luring me in to flip more pages when my hand starts to itch. Then my fingers swell.

  “Shoot! Shot! Shizzle!” I stand. The itch is so bad I can’t resist. I have to scratch. But then my left hand starts to itch too. I shake my hands, but the itch is slowly spreading up my arms. “OMG. What’s happening?”

  “Confidential itch powder. Maintenance must have forgotten to remove it.” Flowers leans on the door jamb, nonchalant.

  I glare at him. I halfway think he did this on purpose. “You don’t happen to have any reversal spells handy?”

  “Nope. And looks like everybody’s cleared out for the day.”

  “Of course, they have. Because it’s government. Everyone but you has gone home at a reasonable hour. Excuse me.” I shoulder past him and march down to the women’s restroom. I flip the water on full gush and bend to sink both my arms under the spray. I don’t even care that my sleeves get soaked. Thank goodness this itch powder’s water soluble and not oil-based. The shit washes right off. Sweet relief. I dry myself with paper towels and exit the bathroom, fully intending to march my ass home and leave Flowers and his stupid shredding behind.

  But Flowers has anticipated my anger. He’s halfway down the hall, standing with a pair of rubber gloves in his hands.

  “We were discussing populations when I left,” he tosses the gloves at me. “After goblins, the next largest demographic is vamps. Nymphs, demons, wizards, ghosts and miscellaneous other groups make up the remainder of Tres Lunas.” He jerks his head toward his office.

  Begrudgingly, I trudge next to him.

  “What is the strongest value for shifters?”

  “Value?”

  “Yes. What do they want to see in pack members, clan members?”

  “Compliance?”

  “Not quite. Though some twist the value into that. Loyalty. Loyalty is the most important thing for any shifter.”

  My thoughts immediately stray to Bennett.

  “Focus!” Flowers snaps in my face. “Fae. What do they value?”

  “Power?” My mother made sure I knew I wasn’t valued. No real magic, no real place in society. Or at home.

  “No. Cleverness. Fae love to think they’re the smartest people in the room. Hence your loud mouth.”

/>   “Um … okay. Witches … Clo seems motivated by appearances. With the whole homework thing. And how she somehow thinks getting nominated out here will help Eudora’s chances to get a Wing.”

  “You don’t think it will.”

  I shake my head vehemently. “Fae are snobs. It’s not just about cleverness. If they think the human world likes you, they wonder what’s wrong.”

  “Hmmm. Well, maybe that was a lie.”

  I shrug. “I wouldn’t know. But you’ve got a liar and a professional killer slash part time drug dealer in cahoots on something.”

  “Did you just say cahoots?”

  “I hang out with a lot of old women.”

  I watch Flowers swallow a smile. “Well, she lied about doing the homework. But Clo didn’t lie to us today.”

  “She paid for homework. Seena verified that?”

  Flowers nods.

  “So, he got to go home?”

  Flowers grins. “He wasn’t bottom three.”

  “Hey!”

  He ignores my indignation. Because it means nothing to him. His lecture voice turns back on and semi-human, smiling Flowers turns off. “Wealth is what goblins value. Vamps want power. Nymphs love attention. Demons want power via servitude. Wizards vary based on their human motivations. Ghosts want revenge.”

  “Okay …”

  “So … out of our suspects, who’d get their ultimate values fulfilled based on the killings so far?”

  “Um …”

  “Exactly. Who would want to kill a wannabe Councilor and then a cameraman?”

  “Well, I mean, they might only have killed the cameraman to cover their tracks.”

  “True.” Flowers clicks a button on his computer, turns the screen my way, and silent video feed plays. It’s from Town Hall. He puts the feed at one and a half times regular speed. We all look like little animated claymation weirdos running around.

  “Why aren’t we listening?”