Knell Read online

  Intrigued, Veruca watched the ring shrink, slimming as if the metal was shifting and evaporating to best fit Finn’s finger. It took only a second and, had Veruca not looked closely, she could have assumed they’d been custom made to fit his fingers exactly.

  A bit of his disgust gone, Finn made an interested sound, lifting his finger to look closely at the band. “That’s handy.” Then, after a moment, he chuckled to himself and mumbled, “handy” under his breath.

  Leo slid the rest of the rings on their pouch across the table, waggling the other pouch full of the T-needles. “Use these. That string is useless. Anyone could cut it or just yank it real hard and you’ll lose use of your zombie. The pins should be better.”

  “Wait,” Finn said, distracted from the shiny rings. “How’d you get my string? I have my string!” As if he was suddenly unsure, Finn dug into his breast pocket, pulling out his tin and cracking it open, Veruca watched him count the twine, and heard him swear quietly. “She stole some.”

  “Just enough for the rings. Don’t worry about it. You won’t need them. This is better, I’m sure of it.”

  “You’ve seen it work before?”

  “Not up front and personal, but I’ve been at this a decade now. I know how magic works, probably better than you guys who get all up in your heads about it. Trust me, just jab one of these suckers into a dead eyeball and you’ll be all set.”

  “No!” Finn argued, still horrified by the prospect.

  Veruca wasn’t too keen on the idea either, but she tucked the pins into her purse just in case they ended up needing them. It was a good idea, as far as magical tools went. The eyes were the windows of the soul, the place the soul would wriggle out of when extracted by something using non-Reaper magic. It was a horrid process, from what Veruca had heard, and the fact that Leo had suggested the eye instead of the neck, chest, or base of the skull made Veruca think he really did know magic pretty well.

  He’d have to, though, surrounded by the stuff every day, she suspected.

  “What do we owe you?” she asked loudly interrupting Leo and Finn’s repetitive arguing.

  “No payment, not from you. Ankyati was very generous, which is why I threw in the anchors.” Leo sneered at Finn, making it clear he felt Finn was a fool.

  Instead of saying anything, Finn just stuffed the empty ring pouch angrily into his pocket and turned to storm back toward the door.

  Donald was after him in a moment, grabbing his arm and keeping him from leaving before they were ready.

  “I guess we’re done here, then.” Veruca said, even though she didn’t entirely want to be. She wasn’t a magic user, at least not in the way that other fae spawn could be. She’d never taken up spells or potions and had no interest in glamour or wards past what Belial had set up for her in her various homes, but she was curious. What sort of interesting magic did Leo have access to and would any of it help her find the banshee?

  She wasn’t sure it would be appropriate to ask, let alone if it would be affordable. She doubted Leo took payment for mystical items in plastic or cold hard cash.

  “Not quite,” Leo warned, leaning down to rifle through some papers. He popped back up with a slightly iridescent envelope that boasted the image of a leaf when viewed at just the right angle. Veruca took it, intrigued. “Ankyati had this delivered for you as well.”

  “Do you know what it is?” Veruca asked.

  Leo just shrugged, sliding back onto his stool. “I don’t ask those types of questions.”

  Probably for the best, Veruca thought, before nodding at him one last time, and then turning to leave.

  ****

  “What’s it say?” Donald asked once they were out on the street again.

  Finn had tried to wander off, but Veruca had grabbed him to keep him close, assuming the wards on Leo’s shop were to blame. He was happy to stick by her side though, admiring his new rings, even as she opened a questionably safe envelope from a questionably sane Fairy.

  “Well…” Veruca sighed, unsure she wanted to know. The paper inside seemed to be a leaf, thin and delicate like tissue paper, but with the feel and look of an actual plant. Finn whistled, impressed, and reached out to rub it between his fingers, accidentally disintegrating the corner. “Don’t touch, darling.”

  Donald laughed nervously, waiting patiently for Veruca to read the text scrawled artfully into the leaf as if it was part of the thing itself, weaving along the surface like veins. It was simple, clear and yet confusing.

  “It just says to see Officer Lam and her passenger.”

  “Maybe she’s arrested someone who knows something?” Donald asked, already pulling out his phone. “That’s not gonna be a quick search, though. There could be any number of Officer Lams around Canada or the U.S.—let alone the world.”

  “She’s here in Vancouver,” Veruca said, delicately folding the leaf back up and tucking it into the envelope. She wasn’t sure it was necessary to keep it, but you never knew with fae. “Ankyati was very specific we come here, so I have to assume this was part of it.

  “That makes it easier. No first name?”

  “No, but I’m hoping that means Lam is easy to locate.”

  “Can’t you find her with your...” Donald trailed off, looking confused. “Is there a term for what you can do? Like my empathy and your…”

  “Power,” Veruca said, waving away the discussion. “Only if I was already within range of her. Shit. She couldn’t have provided a first name? Fairies are such a pain in the ass.”

  “Maybe I can track her down. I’ve done work in the area here and there. Maybe I can get hold of someone who might know local law enforcement. Lots of times fae spawn with a minor sense of things will become cops just because they have a knack for it.”

  “Will that take long?”

  “I can’t say. There’s a line I can call, which may or may not be in service still. Otherwise, I can try to track down a witch or something. It’s been years, and the work I did wasn’t exactly a one-eight-hundred call away, you know?”

  “Yeah,” Veruca said, shaking head in frustration.

  “There’s no one you can call?” Donald asked.

  Finn cleared his throat conspicuously, and Veruca looked up to find he looked frustrated with them both.

  “No one’s remembered I’m here?”

  “We haven’t forgotten, darling, we’re just not talking about lingerie or whiskey so I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

  Finn snorted, losing his annoyance in an instant. “No, I mean, you’re forgetting you’re not the only two who can do stuff.”

  “I don’t know if the stuff you’re really good at will help us here,” Veruca purred, her smile coy. “Unless you’re offering to get arrested for prostitution?”

  Donald barked out a laugh, before trying to hide his giggling behind his hand.

  Finn rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I mean, useful stuff. Remember, I wasn’t always on the level. I ran in some unsavory groups here and there—here a time or two, actually. Recently, in fact.”

  “How recently?” Veruca asked, coating her tone in faux suspicion.

  Finn only winked.

  Chapter Seven

  “I didn’t even know this place existed,” Donald said as they approached the outwardly normal coffee shop.

  “You know a secret magic shop but not a simple coffee shop?” Finn asked, pushing open the door and letting Veruca go in ahead. “You’ve got your priorities mixed up.”

  “Oi! The hell are you doing back?”

  Veruca swung around at the sound of a familiar accent to find a woman with pale brown hair and dark eyes fixated directly on Finn, her lips quirked up in a smile. Nodding to the customer whose order she’d suddenly ceased taking, she grabbed for one of the other employees, shoved him into her spot, and then stepped out from behind the counter.

  She was average in height, in her late-thirties, and cute as a button. Veruca got a good vibe off her, liking the look of her soul a
nd seeing a genuine affection for Finn in the way she was eyeballing him.

  “Doireann!” Finn said, forgetting instantly about Donald’s priorities and closing in on the girl with his arms spread wide. Veruca smiled as he spoke again, noting that his accent seemed a touch more Irish now that he was faced with another that matched it. “The hell are you still doing here?”

  “I own the place now,” she said, wrapping slim arms around Finn’s neck and pulling him into a hug. “Looks like you’re doing well for yourself.”

  “I’ve cleaned up a little,” Finn said, squeezing her back, before she shifted to plant a big, wet kiss on his mouth, and then hop back to gesture to him again.

  “You finally successfully rob a bank? You never looked this fancy before.”

  “Nah,” Finn said, turning to take Veruca’s hand and lead her closer. “I got lucky and fell in love.”

  “You?” Doireann said, shaking her head, before squinting at Veruca. “You know he can’t be trusted, right?”

  “I know him pretty well,” Veruca said, holding out her hand to shake. “I’m Veruca, nice to meet you.”

  “Doireann, likewise,” Doireann said, before gesturing to a cluster of empty tables at the back. “Go, sit, rest. You want anything?”

  “No, thank you,” Veruca said, turning to Donald. “You?”

  “Donald,” he said, introducing himself as Veruca had, before stepping back. “No, I’m good.”

  “I’ll take an Irish coffee if you’ve got one, extra Irish.”

  “That’s the Patrick I know,” she said with a chuckle, using one of Finn’s aliases. Veruca didn’t even blink, knowing Finn had very rarely used his real name in his past. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll get the girls to make you something.”

  Finn watched her for a second, a big grin on his face, before letting Veruca tug him over to pick a table.

  “Friend of yours?” she asked with a smile.

  Finn nodded. “Yeah, she helped me out a lot back when I was younger. After I got away from Mort I managed to hop the border, figuring I’d hide out in Canada, and she found me and set me up with a place to stay. She kept me out of trouble, until she couldn’t.” Finn smiled, sloppy with nostalgia.

  Veruca rubbed his arm. “Did she know you’re a necromancer?”

  “Nah,” Finn said. “It’s something I mostly forgot about until ‘round about the time I met you. She’s got a bit of something, though.”

  “Ferromancy,” Veruca said with a nod. “Impressive. You don’t usually see someone with that power in such a simple position.”

  “No kidding,” Donald said, looking around the café as if it had suddenly become a lot more fascinating.

  “What’s that?” Finn asked, following Donald’s lead and looking around with a manic curiosity.

  “Metal manipulation,” Veruca said, tapping her necklace. “She can do what every alchemist through time has wanted to achieve. You hand her some copper and she can turn it into gold. Though, these days, other metals might be just as valuable.”

  “And she runs a café?” Donald asked.

  Doireann closed in behind him, hearing the tail end of what he was saying. “Owns it,” she corrected, taking a seat and smiling broadly. “Bought it a coupl’a years ago, well after this one abandoned me for life on the road.”

  “I didn’t abandon you! I got a business opportunity and decided it was time to make a go of it on my own.”

  “And how’d that work out for ya?” she asked, the look in her eye saying she knew exactly what sort of business Finn would have felt himself qualified for.

  “I got this fancy suit now, don’t I?” Finn asked, feigning insult.

  “On the level?” Turning her attention to Veruca, Doireann met her eye. “You’ve got him on a short leash, right? Never leaving him alone with your wallet or your collection of old coins?”

  Finn’s shoulders popped up around his ears, the whole of him seeming to shrink at the accusation. Veruca chuckled, shaking her head and deciding changing the subject away from his less than savory past was probably the best for all of them.

  “I hear you get a lot of fae spawn in?” she asked. Doireann nodded, though she gave it a beat before she let up on the accusatory look she’d leveled Finn’s way.

  “Yeah, just sorta worked out that way back when it first opened. Lady who owned it before me was an ex-Gavel, so she had a lot of connections and people in the life just sorta spent a lot of time here. It became a hub for a certain type of person and when she decided to retire, I just so happened to have had the money to take over—despite Patrick’s sticky fingers—so here I am.”

  “If we needed to find someone, do you think you might have connections, maybe a person or two who can find him or her with some expediency?”

  “Sure,” Doireann said, though she put up a hand. “We don’t control fees or have a handle in contracts, but I’ve got some regulars I could call, depending on what sorta folk you’re looking for.”

  “I believe we’re looking for a cop,” Veruca said. “Officer Lam?”

  “Haven’t heard of him m’self. Local?”

  “We’re thinking yes, but we got the tip from a Fairy so the term could be used rather loosely.”

  “Got it, we’re looking local as in somewhere in the country. Gimme a few minutes and I’ll put out my feelers. You sure you don’t want anything? Patrick’s already got a pretty long tab going, another two coffees and a slice of pie won’t hurt it.”

  “Tab!” Finn protested, outraged. “Since when do I have a tab? You said all that stuff was on the house!”

  “That was before I owned the house and it came outta my pocket, boyo. Don’t get stingy now you’ve got such nice clothes.” Doireann winked and popped to her feet, heading back behind the counter.

  “You think she’s really gonna make me pay?” Finn asked, still bristling.

  Donald nodded. “She was pretty serious, though she cares deeply for you so I’m sure she’d forgive the debt if you asked nicely.”

  “We’ll leave a big tip,” Veruca said, patting his hand. “I don’t think I can spare you long enough for you to wash the amount of dishes needed to work off what you’ve undoubtedly taken from her.”

  ****

  Finn was settled in behind the counter for old times’ sake when the man Doireann called arrived. Finn was likely causing more harm than good, but the people whose orders he’d taken seemed charmed by him, despite the fact that at least half of them had gotten the wrong orders when all was said and done.

  The man who walked in pulled Veruca’s attention before he’d actually asked for it, his soul familiar, even though she hadn’t actually read it before. He was in his early 40s, though he had been blessed with genetics and the resources for self-care that allowed him to pass for younger. His blond hair and fair skin helped the youthful appearance, as did his casually professional clothes. It wasn’t a suit and tie, but his khakis and button-up would have been fine in some office somewhere. Overall, he was good looking, but unassuming, someone you might give a second look to as he passed on the street, but only out of interest in his attractive face, not because he looked suspicious or particularly interesting.

  Veruca could see a name etched into his purely human soul that she was sure wouldn’t match any introduction that came through his full lips.

  He was a mercenary, that much was obvious from the feel of him, and when he saw Veruca notice him, he didn’t bother to second-guess her attention. Striding straight over, his body language casual, he smiled, holding out a hand. She noted that his nails were trimmed and well-kept, his hand calloused enough that she could tell he wasn’t worried about doing dirty work himself.

  “Am I to assume you’re the one Doireann’s called about?”

  “I should think so,” Veruca said, reaching out to shake. His grip was strong, but not in a way that spoke of insecurity or a need to intimidate.

  Nodding, he gestured to the seat next to hers, asking without speaking
if he could take it. When he did, he looked around, his eyes lingering briefly on Finn, amusement and curiosity sparking in his expression for a moment. Veruca recognized the look, had seen it from a great many people who got to witness Finn in all his extroverted, flirty glory.

  “Benedict,” the man said after a moment, looking back to Veruca, nodding at Donald, and then resting his arms on the table in front of him. Sure enough, that was not his real name.

  “Veruca,” she said, before gesturing to her right. “Donald. I almost hired you a few months ago, actually.”

  “Did I not pass muster?”

  “No, you did, but you were busy. I was forced to settle with a much less … helpful option.”

  “I think I know her and I’m sorry to have left you in that position.”

  Veruca laughed, shaking her head.

  “It worked out in the end, she was just a bit of a handful. Did Doireann let on what it was we’re looking for?”

  “She did, and usually I would have just made a few calls, passed along some information, but I’m in the area, so it was just easier to come see you in person. And Doireann, too. She and I go way back.”

  “She’s somewhere around here, probably wrangling Finn, stopping him from giving everyone free cake or inviting them into the back office for some” —Veruca crooked her fingers— “alone time.”

  Benedict glanced back at Finn, snorted lightly, and then turned back to Veruca. “The pretty boy behind the counter?”

  “Yes, my boyfriend. He’s enthusiastic.”

  “Not a bad quality to have, all in all. Now, Doireann said something about you needing to contact an Officer Lam?” Veruca nodded, and Benedict sat back. “I don’t know him myself—”

  “Her,” Veruca corrected mildly. Benedict kept speaking as if she hadn’t spoken, changing his pronouns easily.

  “But I have a few connections on the force, so I reached out to see if they would be willing to have her call me, if she’s around. If she’s not local—our version of local, that is—I can reach out farther, make a few more calls.”