Dark Descent - [Nyx Fortuna 02] (16 page)

BOOK: Dark Descent - [Nyx Fortuna 02]
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Sometime during our second night at the Dead House, Willow stole away while I slept. I waited for her for hours, but she never returned. Maybe she was somewhere in the Driftless, the watery world where I’d found Elizabeth’s brother Alex. Or maybe she’d decided to leave Minneapolis altogether. Wherever she was, I hoped she was far away from her husband. Not knowing where she was or if she was safe was taking its toll on me.

I stopped by the Red Dragon, looking for information. It was early, so there were only a few regulars at the bar, but I was hoping I’d hear something, anything. I was nursing a glass of beer when Ambrose came in and took a seat beside me.

“Have you heard?” he said. “There have been two more murders, both naiads.”

I swiveled around to face him. “Why are you telling me?”

“I thought it might stir you out of your personal pity party long enough for you to try to help those poor unfortunates,” he said. “Apparently, I was wrong.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Get off your ass,” he said.

“I’ve got a few things on my plate,” I replied.

He sighed. “Nyx, for an intelligent man, you are somewhat oblivious.”

“Are you insulting me?” I took a long sip of my beer.

“You are ignoring something that is right in front of you,” he said. “And people are dying. I am asking you for your help.”

I felt like an ass. Ambrose had gone out of his way to be kind to me. “I’ll do what I can,” I said. “Anything I should know?”

He hesitated. “I do not want to point fingers, but it has been said that Mr. Danvers is taking out his recent disappointment upon his runaway bride’s colony.”

The stein shattered in my hand. “What? That’s insane.”

“I’m afraid that describes the man rather perfectly.” He handed me a clean napkin. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine, but Danvers isn’t going to be.” I used the napkin to wipe away the blood.

“Be careful, Nyx,” Ambrose warned. “The man is dangerous.”

“Then why hasn’t the House of Poseidon taken care of him?” I asked. “Or the House of Hades?”

“He’s too powerful,” Ambrose said. “And he has powerful friends.”

“You’re telling me that Hades is okay with this?”

“The old gods no longer exist,” Ambrose replied. “Or if they do, they’ve lost interest in the mortal world.”

“Naiads are magical, not mortal,” I pointed out unnecessarily. “Isn’t there some sort of law about this sort of thing?”

Now it was his turn to shrug. “As with mortal law, our laws are sometimes broken.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

He nodded. “One of the old houses on Summit.”

“That surprises me,” I said. “He seemed like such a suburban douche bag. Not old magic.”

“He’s not,” Ambrose said. “He bought it after the previous owner died under mysterious circumstances.”

“It seems a little excessive, doesn’t it? Killing his wife’s cousins to get her to come back to him? And some of the naiad killings happened before Willow left him.”

“Maybe he’s just a psychopath. Or maybe it’s how he forced her into marrying him.”

“What do you know about his background? How long has he lived in Minneapolis?”

Ambrose told me all he knew about Danvers, which wasn’t much, and then left, but not without a parting shot. “You are your mother’s son, Nyx. It’s time you started acting like it.”

When I finally gave up waiting for Willow and headed home, Wren wasn’t at the apartment.

I called Naomi. “Is she with you?”

“Who?” But her careful tone told me that Wren was there, probably listening.

“Look, I was helping a friend,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m explaining this.”

“Maybe because you think you have something to explain.”

“Danvers was looking for Willow,” I said.

“I see.”

“No, you don’t fucking see,” I said. “She’s my friend. She needed my help.”

There was a long pause and then Wren came on the line. “Nyx?”

“I’m sorry, Wren.”

“I was worried about you.”

“Willow is my friend and she was in trouble.”

“You could have called me,” she said.

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.” I said it again.

Long pause. “I think I’m going to stay at Claire’s for a few days.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” she replied. “At least until you figure out what you want.”

She wanted me to say I wanted her, and part of me did. But the other part was focused on Willow.

After Wren hung up, I stared at the walls of my apartment until I couldn’t stand it any longer.

I drove by Danvers’s house, which was a limestone three-story mansion in the Park Avenue area. The street was known to the magical in Minneapolis as Magicians’ Row because the Houses’ upper echelon had homes there.

His house looked like a castle or a fortress, depending on how you looked at it. I knew which way Willow saw it.

There were a couple of kids playing on the sidewalk, but they weren’t paying any attention to me.

I didn’t spot Danvers or Willow, but I did notice my aunt Deci walking into a lime-and-pink Victorian a few houses down.

I watched her go in and then got out of the Caddy and went up to the kids, who were full of mischief but not a lick of magic.

“Hey, who lives there?” I asked. I pointed to the Victorian.

“That’s the witch’s house,” the boy said. He looked at his sister. “If you’re not careful, she’ll cook and eat you, just like in Hansel and Gretel.”

At least he had his facts straight, but I had had no idea Danvers and Deci were next-door neighbors. How cozy.

He glanced at the Caddy. “Nice ride.”

The purple Caddy was too conspicuous. I handed him a ten. “Thanks. Now forget you saw it.”

I borrowed a car and spent another afternoon following Sean Danvers around town. I’d been hunted for years by the Fates’ Tracker and I’d learned a few things.

I didn’t see Willow, but he seemed to have a lot of time on his hands for a successful businessman. He played a couple rounds of golf while I watched him with binoculars from a distant spot where I thought I wouldn’t be noticed. I was practically asleep from boredom by the time he decided to head to the office.

I trailed well behind him. He had an office not that far from Parsi Enterprises. I circled the block as he parked the car and entered the building.

It was a little after sunset and decided to chance it. I said a quick obscura spell and then broke into his car. I rifled through the glove box but didn’t find anything suspicious, except that he had shit taste in music for a villain. I was expecting some soul-crunching-dark-lord type of music, but instead it had more of a suburban-mom-car-pool vibe.

But then I found something interesting. A long flat box decorated with a familiar-looking symbol. I expected to find his athame in the box, but instead I found a robe decorated with the same symbol. The Tria Prima.

He was a Hecate worshipper. Although technically, as the queen of necromancers, she belonged to the House of Hades, she had been booted out of the club for being naughty several thousands of years ago.

Why had he married Willow? Someone had used dark magic to kill the naiads, which pointed straight to Danvers, but why was he killing them? His treatment of Willow made it clear he was a sadistic bastard.

I had to stop Danvers from murdering any more naiads, even if I had to kill him to do it.

The opportunity to talk to Willow finally came when I wasn’t expecting it. I’d parked outside Danvers’s place, in a nondescript van I’d borrowed from a poker player I knew. He’d won it off a baker with a gambling problem, and it smelled yeasty, like mutant bread dough was fermenting in the back.

Willow emerged from the house, arm in arm with Danvers. He was the picture of a loving husband, if you could forget he’d beaten her half-dead. I couldn’t.

Lurch came out behind them. He opened the passenger door to a town car for the happy couple and then got in behind the wheel.

He drove to a Brazilian restaurant on Hennepin. Danvers had brutally attacked Willow and now he was taking her out to lunch? I watched them enter, Lurch in tow, but stayed where I was.

I did a quick obscura spell while I was in the van. I didn’t want to risk using magic too close to Danvers. He might pick up on it.

I entered the restaurant unobserved. It was essentially a high-dollar steakhouse, and they would have probably refused service if they could actually see me in my worn jeans and tee and beat-up Doc Martens.

Two mind-numbing hours went by while they dined. Willow didn’t touch her food until Danvers said something to her. Then she just pretended, putting her fork to her lips and setting it down, but it seemed to satisfy him.

Finally, Willow got up to go to the restroom. Lurch went with her. For a second I thought he was going to follow her into the bathroom, but he waited outside.

Her bodyguard-slash-jailer looked right through me, but I waited until a woman herding two young children opened it.

Willow stood at the sink, staring in the mirror like the person she saw was a stranger. Maybe she was. She didn’t look anything like the Willow I knew.

It felt creepy watching her when she didn’t know I was there. I waited until we were alone before I spoke. “Willow, it’s me.” I removed the spell so she could see me.

“Nyx? What do you want from me, son of Fortuna?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” I said.

“As you see, I am well,” she said.

Her eyes told a different story.

“Why did you leave without saying anything? I was worried.”

“He swore that he won’t hurt me again. He’s sorry.”

“He won’t keep that promise,” I told her.

“I know,” she said. “But would you stand idly by and let your friends get slaughtered?”

“You’re my friend,” I said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Danvers was an abusive husband. As long as Willow stayed with him, there was more than a good chance she’d end up injured or dead.

She turned and put a hand to my cheek. “I know.”

I grabbed her hand and put it to my lips. We stayed there for a long moment until she stepped away, pretending to straighten her skirt.

“Willow, why is he killing the naiads?”

She remained stubbornly silent.

“It’s important, Willow,” I said.

“Nothing is more important than keeping my people safe.”

“Please.”

She glanced around. “I am afraid I cannot help you,” she said. “You must go now.”

“I don’t want to leave you like this.”

She raised her eyes to mine. “You must. I will be fine. As long as you go now! He’ll be suspicious if I linger much longer.”

I did as she had asked, going back into stealth mode before I left. I brushed by Lurch and gave him a nasty case of adult acne.

Back at Eternity Road, I updated Ambrose. “I talked to Willow today,” I said. “I’m pretty sure the naiad murders will stop as long as she toes the line with Danvers and pretends to be his blushing bride.”

“Anything else?”

“Can you help me get Wren out of town?” I asked. “Things are heating up and I don’t want her caught in the crossfire.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I don’t see a way around it,” I said. “She’s a distraction I can’t afford.”

“You don’t think Hecate’s daughter can protect herself?” There was a note in his voice that I didn’t like.

I frowned. “I know she’s not helpless, but she’s innocent. She’s been her mother’s prisoner for years. She helped save Claire and Naomi. I owe her.”

“And you believe in always paying your debts,” he said. “What about Hecate?”

“After Wren is safe.”

It took some persuasion, but he agreed. “I know someone who can take her to a safe house up north. It’s not a perfect solution,” he warned.

The Fates knew that Wren was Hecate’s daughter. I didn’t want her to get caught in the middle of their battle with the goddess.

We took the Caddy to Claire’s condo.

Wren answered the door. “Nyx, is something wrong?” Her hair had been cut into a sharp bob. She wore a yellow dress with a deep vee and had a sophisticated palette of makeup covered her face.

“Can you pack a bag?” I asked. “Ambrose is going to take you somewhere safe.”

“What’s going on?” She peered anxiously into my face.

“Did you know that Sean Danvers was one of your mother’s followers?” I asked.

“Willow’s husband? No, of course not,” she said. “The first time I laid eyes on him was at his wedding.”

“I need you out of the way until I can eliminate the Danvers problem.” Without her number one guy topside, Hecate would have much more difficulty keeping tabs on her daughter, and Willow would make a beautiful widow.

“Out of the way?” she replied. “I hadn’t realized I was
in
your way.” Her eyes clouded.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. “I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”

Ambrose cleared his throat. “I’ll give you two some privacy. Nyx, I’ll be in the car when you’re ready.”

After he left, we took seats at the opposite ends of the sofa. I wanted to say something, anything, but couldn’t get any words out.

“I’ll go pack,” Wren said. I was relieved there wasn’t going to be a great debate about it.

I paced in the living room. The front door opened and then Claire walked in. “Home sweet home,” she said. She threw her purse on a small table in the entryway.

She spotted me. “What are you doing here?”

“Wren’s leaving,” I told her.

Her face worked. “She’s going back to her mother?”

“No, why would you say that?” I asked. “A friend of Ambrose’s is going to take her somewhere safe.”

“You think you need to protect Wren? From what? Herself?”

The bitter note in her voice surprised me. “I thought you were friends.”

“I thought so, too,” Claire said. “But I was wrong.”

Wren came back carrying a small duffel. “I’m ready.” She stopped in her tracks when she saw Claire. I thought it was an odd reaction, since it was Claire’s apartment.

Claire gave her a grim smile. “Surprised to see me?”

“Of course I am,” Wren said. “I thought you said you’d be at work until late.” She held up the bag. “I borrowed this. I’m leaving Minneapolis.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Claire replied. They didn’t embrace or even say good-bye. Instead, Claire turned on her heel, went into her bedroom, and slammed the door.

“Do I have to go?” Wren asked. Her lips were trembling.

I scooted closer to embrace her. “It won’t be for long.”

“Nyx, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” I said. “I’m an open book.”

“Do you love me?”

Love?
The answer must have been on my face. There was no good way to say it, but I cleared my throat and struggled through it manfully. “I like you.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said. “You don’t love anyone, not even yourself. Especially not yourself.”

“Wren, I…”

“It’s okay,” she assured me, but a single tear streaked her perfect makeup. “Good-bye, Nyx.” She gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek and then picked up her bag.

Ambrose’s friend, an attractive brunette about his age who wore earrings identifying her as House of Hades, was waiting with him by the car when we went down.

“This is Thea,” Ambrose said. “She’ll be escorting Wren.”

I swept Wren into a long hug, but she didn’t hug me back. She got into Thea’s waiting car without another word.

I watched the car drive away. Then I went home, had a shot or two, and sharpened my athame.

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