Cursed Moon (Prospero's War) (16 page)

October 23

First Quarter

T
he next morning I was talking to Mez about the potions Dionysus had taken from Aphrodite when Shadi popped her head into the lab. “Got a minute?”

I glanced at Mez. “Try running the samples through ACD.”

He shrugged. “Worth a try.”

ACD was the Arcane Crimes Database. Sometimes you could find a potion that was used in more than one crime. If Dionysus had sold Aphrodite’s formula to a wiz in another town, we might get a hit. Or not. Either way, it was worth investigating with every tool at our disposal.

Leaving him to that, I went to join Shadi. “What’s up?”

She nodded toward her desk on the other side of the boxing ring. “Got that research you asked me to look up.”

“Cool. But first, how did your meeting with Volos go?”

She shook her head. “It didn’t. He was out of town. Some big meeting in Canada.”

I frowned. “Did his secretary say when he’d be back?”

“Few days. I left my card and asked her to have him give me a call.”

“He won’t,” I said.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep calling until I get him, then.” She had a determined look in her eye that reminded me of a bulldog who’d spotted a juicy bone.

I nodded because that’s exactly how I would have handled it, too. “Good. All right.” I leaned a hip on the desk. “What you got on Dionysus?”

She popped open a folder on the top of the table she used as a desk. “There’s tons of myths about the god, so I’ll focus on the basics. He was the god of wine, parties, and ecstasy. He had these half-goat dudes who were his followers, called satyrs, and a cult of sex freak women, called the Maenads, worshipped him.”

Something niggled at my brain. “Satyrs,” I said. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Maybe nothing, but there was a guy dressed like a satyr at the Halloween Festival.”

“Did he do anything unusual?”

I tilted my head. “You mean other than dress like a half-goat?” I laughed. I tried to think back to the moment I’d seen him. “He just kind of danced around and played a flute. And”—I stopped myself from thinking to the moment when he blew me the kiss—“he flirted with me.”

“Sounds like the god Dionysus, all right. He basically spent his time drinking and fucking.”

“So he was basically every man’s hero?” Morales called from his desk nearby where he was going over recent arrest reports.

Ignoring him, I nudged Shadi. “Hey, do you still have that picture of Dionysus the mayor gave us?” She shuffled through a folder and handed it over. Staring down at the image, I realized with a start that if Dionysus had on a mask he’d look a hell of a lot like the satyr from the square.

And then there were the eyes. In the mayor’s picture they were heavy-lidded and issuing a challenge. When I’d seen him in the square I remembered a glint of something off in the two eyes looking at me from behind the mask. “Shit, Morales,” I breathed, “it was totally him.” I looked up, my eyes wide and my stomach tight. “He was right there in front of me.”

Shadi’s eyes widened and she took the image from me. Morales’s chair creaked. Two seconds later he was taking the picture from Shadi. “Well fuck me,” he said, “I thought this asshole looked familiar when the mayor showed it to us, but I figured I was just remembering some perp I’d arrested.” He glanced up. Whatever he saw in my face made his expression soften. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. We both let him go.”

I knew he was right. Unlike the gypsy who’d taunted me that day, I didn’t claim to have the gift of prophecy. But damned if it wouldn’t have been a really fucking handy skill. “Regardless, it’s clear we need to revisit everything that happened that day—” I froze, the events of the rest of the day coming back to me. I grabbed Shadi’s folder. “The god of wine,” I whispered. “Morales, what was it that leprechaun prick said right before we took him to the precinct?”

My partner looked up, his eyes narrowing as he tried to recall. “Something about the devil fucking your neck?”

“What?” Shadi asked.

I waved a hand and grimaced. “No, after that. He warned us about the Blue Moon, right?”

“So?” he said.

“So, don’t you find it odd that two minutes after we saw Dionysus in the square, a fucking leprechaun hexes two cops and then starts spouting bullshit about the Blue Moon?”

“Not especially.” He crossed his arms. “No offense, Cupcake, but I think you’re reaching. The moons are making people do all sorts of crazy bullshit right now.”

“Hold up,” I said, ignoring his doubt. “Shit, Morales, that tattoo.”

Something shifted in my head, like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place before the safe opened to reveal its secrets. My eyes met his and I could see the memory spring up behind his eyes, too, and then quickly shutter.

“
In Vino
Fucking
Veritas
,” I said.

“Someone fill me in,” Shadi said.

I turned to her. “The leprechaun we arrested at the festival had a tattoo that translated to ‘In wine, the truth.’ And the potion he hexed those cops and people with made them dance around and hump everything in sight.”

“You think the leprechaun worked for Dionysus,” she said, frowning like she was considering it. However, Morales’s expression was closed as tight as a bank vault.

“Come on, Morales. It’s worth a trip to county to talk to the little shit at least.”

His nostrils flared as he expelled a rush of air. “Even if you’re right, he’s not going to tell us crap.”

I raised my brows in challenge. “He’s a potion freak who thinks he’s a leprechaun, and he’s been locked up in county for almost a week. I’m thinking he’ll jump at the chance for a plea bargain in exchange for information on Dionysus.”

“He’s facing assault with an Arcane weapon on two cops, Kate. The DA will never go for it.”

“He doesn’t have to know that. He just has to think it’s
possible.” I tugged at his shirtsleeve. “C’mon. It’s the best lead we’ve had in days.”

His lips screwed up into a martyred grimace. “I’ll do it if you buy me a burger on the way.”

I awarded him with a wide, bright smile, the kind I reserved for people who were smart enough to let me have my way. “Deal. I’ll even throw in a shake to sweeten your disposition.”

Shadi shook her head at us. “You two are a trip.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Morales asked.

“Oh, nothing.” She chuckled like she was laughing at a private joke. “Enjoy your interrogation.”

Two hours later Morales had a full belly, but his attitude hadn’t improved much. We’d been sitting in the interview room for thirty minutes already waiting for Sean O’Lachlan to grace us with his presence.

Morales slouched in the metal chair beside me. Clearly he’d decided to play “ambivalent cop,” which left me to play both good and bad. He’d made no secret of his doubts about getting intel from the leprechaun. But I figured that was just his pride talking, seeing how O’Lachlan had gotten such a rise out of him last time. Honestly, I was fine taking lead on this one. Especially since of the two of us, the leprechaun seemed to favor me, which meant I was the more likely one to get intel from him.

The door cracked and a detention officer ushered our friend inside the cramped interview room. I didn’t react to the way the guy looked, but I was cringing on the inside. The green suit was gone and replaced with a bright orange jumpsuit. The legs and sleeves were too long for his short legs and arms, so he’d had to roll them up a couple of times. But it wasn’t his ill-fitting
uniform that grabbed my attention when he walked in. It was his face. Or what was left of it, anyway.

Judging from the way his right eye swelled and the large bruise on his jaw, his time inside hadn’t exactly been relaxing. Not surprising since the cells at county tended to be less civilized than some zoo pens I’d seen. Weakness of any kind was sniffed out, targeted, and exploited with vigor. “Someone take exception to your charms, Leprechaun Man?”

He launched up a middle finger to let me know what he thought of my sense of humor. “The fuck you want?”

“Sit down.” I nodded to the uni to “help” our friend comply. Once he was seated, I waved the officer off to go wait outside.

O’Lachlan watched the guy leave with a placid expression. Despite the bruises and abrasions, he had the scent of a guy who prided himself on not being a snitch. Prisons were full of these assholes. Criminals don’t follow society’s moral codes, but that doesn’t mean they have no code of conduct at all. Rule number one was no snitching, which made my job a pain in the ass sometimes. Trick was you had to find some sort of currency to use against them. Or, failing that, you had to locate their weakness and apply the screws until they broke. That part could be really fun.

He propped his cuffed hands on the tabletop. “So?”

I glanced at Morales, who raised his brows in challenge. Looked like I was the only one in the room convinced I could break this guy. “We have a few follow-up questions for you.”

He sighed. “Yes, you’re both assholes. Happy?”

I grimaced at him. Sometimes it really was too bad police brutality was frowned upon. But the worst thing I could do at that point was show the guy he was getting under my skin. I tipped my head toward his hand. “What’s that tattoo mean?”

He frowned and pulled his hands off the table into his lap. “Nuthin’.”

“Did you know there’s a god of wine?” I asked casually. “His name is Dionysus.”

“I don’t know nuthin’ about myths and shit.” His eyes narrowed. “I just happen to enjoy a fine box of rosé every now and then.”

“I’m sure by now you’ve heard there’s a new Raven in the Cauldron. Calls himself Dionysus.”

“Everybody hears things.” He shrugged. “Don’t make ’em true.”

“This thing is true, I assure you.”

“So?” His eyes met mine in that practiced stare that criminals perfect because they think looking you in the eye will prove they aren’t lying.

“So if you know anything about this Dionysus, now’s the time to mention it.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because if you are connected to him, you will be charged with being an accessory after we find him.”

The guy snorted. “You won’t find him.”

I watched him without speaking for a full ten seconds before his expression registered that he’d realized what he’d done. He shifted in his seat. “I mean—if this guy’s a Raven he’s probably a bad motherfucker, am I right? ’Specially if he’s crazy and shit.”

“We’ve already tied him to thefts from one of the most powerful wizards in the Cauldron. If we don’t find him first, Aphrodite will,” I said. “Do you think the Hierophant will hesitate to track down his associates?”

His eyes flared a little. “I didn’t have nuthin’ to do with those thefts.”

“Do you honestly think Aphrodite will believe you when she catches you?”

His face went white as spoiled milk, and a slight tremor shook his hands. “I-I—she can’t get me in here.”

“These prison walls might as well be vapor as far as the Hierophant is concerned,” Morales said. I smiled inwardly at how naturally he slipped into his normal role despite his earlier protests. A cop’s instinct to get answers is pretty powerful. “Or maybe we’ll just cut you loose and let it slip to Aphrodite you’re out.”

O’Lachlan swallowed hard. “I don’t know nuthin’ about the covens getting robbed.”

“But you do know Dionysus, correct?”

He looked down at his hands and nodded. “He paid me to create some chaos at the festival, is all.”

“How did he approach you?”

“I work at a club over on Exposition—the Cock and Bull?”

My eyebrows shot up. “The gay dance club?”

“I’m a go-go dancer there,” he said, nodding. “Anyway, he comes up to me after my shift and says he’s got a proposition for me. I tried to tell him I didn’t turn tricks anymore, but he said it wasn’t like that. He bought me a drink and told me he’d pay me five hundred bucks if I wore a costume and raised a little hell at the Halloween Festival. Then he gave me a sample of this potion that made me feel seven feet tall and bulletproof. Said if I did what he asked, he’d give me all I wanted.”

Morales and I exchanged a look. “What does he look like?”