“What was he thinking of?”

  “Names for his new son. His wife is pregnant. That’s the real problem at home. I was something to fill the time until his regular playground was open for business again.” She finished bitterly. “Here I am thinking about a future with this guy and how great it’s going to be when he’s free of his wife, and all along he’s wondering if we can keep this side thing going until the baby is old enough for him to get some regularly at home. Prick.”

  “Definitely. Should we get the girls together and drag him down to Convenire for the night? I think Mr. Normal would love the witches’ bar. We could let Anna wrap fire around him, or have Isaura blow him around the dance floor with hurricane winds. I’m sure it would be a time he’ll never forget.” I wished Phoebe could see my wicked grin.

  “Damn! I wish I had thought of that. All I did was stop taking his calls and send his flowers and candy back to him at home.”

  “Won’t his wife find it there?”

  “Exactly.” Satisfaction filled her voice. “What am I going to do, Mal? I can’t be the life of the party when I feel like hell. Trust me when I say you don’t want to be around a sad spirit witch. We can project, you know.”

  “I’m sure it’s terrible, I mean, really horrible. Especially compared to picking up random body parts left over from werewolf attacks or getting attacked by dead spell workers,” I said dryly.

  “Oh hell, your thing, that’s right. What did you need to know?” She sounded guilty, which was the last thing I wanted.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I laughed. “Hey, why don’t you come shopping with Anna and me tomorrow? I could use someone to keep my checkbook safe.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  “A little retail therapy will help, even if you just live vicariously through me. Come with us. If you’re really good, I’ll tell you about a new chocolate shop I found.” I smiled thinking of how girls would react to Indigo’s wares.

  I got off the phone with Phoebe and called Anna to warn her there was a third member of the shopping party. It was no surprise that I got her machine. I might in my pajamas, ready to go to bed at ten o’clock on a Friday night, but Anna had probably just left to go out.

  I spent the next few hours deep in a book Phoebe had recommended months ago. I was sure the heroine was about to find out that the one who really loved her was the one she had hated all along when I heard Jakob’s key turn in the lock. I managed to tear myself away so I could greet him with a kiss. I was rewarded with a small white box tied with a thick purple ribbon.

  “A gift from Indigo, should I be jealous?” Jakob asked as my face lit up at the sight of it.

  “Don’t be silly, I’ll always love you more than chocolate.” I took the top off the box, revealing perfect dark truffles. “Except maybe once a month, and we don’t hang out together then anyway.”

  10

  A lonely truffle stared up at me from the box. As a compassionate woman, I considered it my duty to eat it for breakfast. I followed up with a college favorite: sugary cereal straight from the box. By the time my doorbell rang, thoughts of dead spell workers and werewolves were miles away. I slipped into my shoes and opened the door.

  “Hey!” Anna sang out. Behind her, Phoebe called a somewhat perky “Chica!” I ushered them into the apartment.

  “How are you, Pheebs?” I stepped over to give her a hug.

  “Why is it so incredibly dark in here?” Anna asked.

  “Jakob’s upstairs asleep, so the shutters are down.” I answered, grabbing my purse. My daylight shutters went from the floor to the ceiling, blocking out even a hint of sunlight. Totally normal for a vampire-safe apartment, but I guess Anna had never noticed them before.

  “Oh,” Anna drew the word out as if she had been presented with dessert. “Is he naked? Can we look?”

  “Stay away from my boyfriend, you lecherous good-for-nothing,” I threatened with mock fury.

  “Careful, Mal, models are known to be grabby,” Phoebe warned.

  I pushed the two of them out the door before things got out of hand.

  Anna drove. Her zippy sports car sported vanity plates that read “FIR PRCS.” Fire princess, Phoebe translated for me. They came with the car—a gift from Anna’s dad. I tried to contain my jealousy.

  Phoebe and I giggled at how over-the-top Anna could be as she issued a bank of orders related to the day’s shopping. It was only ten in the morning, but somehow we were already behind. I made the mistake of mentioning that the mall only opened at nine.

  “We’re not going to the mall.” Anna’s tone of voice reminded me of a particularly mean second grade teacher. “Mall stores are for people who want crappy clothes that look like good fashion. Do you want to wear crappy clothes, Mallory?”

  I did my best to channel five-year-old Emma, and said “No,” while shaking my head. Phoebe burst into giggles.

  “You’ve never been shopping with Anna before, it’s more like… a really high energy vacation. Think of it as an adventure,” she said.

  “An adventure in fashion and fabric!” Anna replied, before starting on a lengthy diatribe about the types of fabric to buy and the pieces to look for. She had either planned all of it out or somehow had picked up psychic abilities when neither of us was looking. We headed into a shopping district I hadn’t found in the six months I’d lived in town.

  Women walked up and down the tiny pedestrian- only streets lined with boutiques. They all wore dressy clothes and carried stuffed handbags, some of them with dogs inside. I’d never shopped somewhere with a dress code before. Luckily Anna had thrown away all of my jeans. My simple sundress might not be designer, but at least it wasn’t yoga pants.

  A valet who couldn’t stop looking at Anna’s legs parked the car. In his defense, her high-heeled sandals did make them go on forever. She wore a light blue linen sundress, but she made it look shockingly good. She walked into the first store with the air of a conqueror. It was all Phoebe and I could do to follow her like puppies. Inside a woman almost as tall as Anna, but not nearly as stunning, greeted her warmly.

  “Bridgette, this is Mallory.” Bridgette looked me up and down. Her expression told me I didn’t belong inside the store with its thick carpet and soft lighting. “She needs a whole new wardrobe. Phoebe and I need mimosas.”

  “Of course.” Bridgette had a passable French accent. She inspected me again. Phoebe stifled a laugh at my confused expression. “I think, maybe, green to bring out the eyes, otherwise they fade.”

  “She’s a detective, so we need to stay conservative, but not frumpy. She doesn’t make enough of her height,” Anna put in. “Maybe start with Kors and Herrera?” The two women nodded enthusiastically to each other.

  “Yes, yes,” Bridgette pushed me into a back room. “Don’t worry, with the right clothes you will emerge like a beautiful butterfly.”

  I was left standing while Anna and Phoebe settled into comfortable chairs. The giant fitting room held overstuffed chairs, a divider, and far too many mirrors. Bridgette dropped off two mimosas and handed me a pile of clothes. The mimosas looked much more inviting than all the hangers did. I did my best to contain my disappointment.

  “Are we good enough friends that I undress in front of you two?” I asked.

  “I guess we have to be, that divider doesn’t stop the mirror behind you from reflecting everything,” Phoebe laughed. For someone who was broken up about a love affair gone wrong, she was laughing a lot.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. I feel like a horse on the auction block.”

  “No, you’re a beautiful butterfly, remember?” Anna teased.

  The only answer was another fit of laughter. Before I had a chance to reply, more clothes began to pour into the room. It seemed like the minute I put something on, it was nixed for some reason: too impractical, not the right cut, too fitted, not flowing, the list was endless. When I tried on a cocoa brown suit, I didn’t care. Stitched with care in the most wonderful shade of deep rich brown, it made the red in my hair pop out and warmed my skin to a shade I’d never realized it had. The fabric felt so amazing against my skin I squealed.

  “This one. I want this one,” I shouted. Anna and Phoebe looked up from their drinks. I did my best to model the long lean trousers and the jacket.

  “I like it. It works for you.” Anna inspected sleeve length and investigated the tags. Bridgette came back into the room looking smug. “And only four hundred. Not bad.”

  “Four hundred?” I squeaked.

  “For the jacket, the pants are probably another two. You’ll need a skirt too.” Anna walked around me, appraising my new look, and nodding to Bridgette.

  “Seven hundred? That’s more than I paid for my first car!”

  “Your first car was probably a wreck. This suit is not.” Anna stood behind me and drew her hand along my body. “Look what it does for you, it’s worth it.”

  “Phoebe. A little help here?”

  “You can’t not buy it, Mal.” She shook her head, whether at my stingy nature or the magic, the suit worked. I wasn’t sure. It would be the most expensive garment I’d ever owned. I hadn’t even paid seven hundred dollars for my wedding dress. I tried to decide if I could afford it. The sensible thing to do would be to put it back and buy ten or twelve items for the same amount, getting the most out of my annual clothing budget. I sighed at the way the suit looked like everything I wanted.

  “Wait! This is brown, right? Perfect! Jakob gave me his credit card, but only for things that weren’t black.” I dug around a bit in my purse, delighted at how the fabric in the suit moved with me. “Oh, but wait, his name is on it, he should have given me a note or had me sign it or something. Can I even use it?”

  Bridgette’s eyes narrowed. I was suddenly not a beautiful butterfly. “Oh dear, I’m sure we would love to…” Anna looked over at the card and grinned. Bridgette followed her glance and stopped mid- sentence. When she spoke again her accent was much worse. “Oh no, there won’t be any problem, absolument, no.”

  I turned to Phoebe and mouthed “Ahb-so-loo- mon?”

  “An adventure, Mal, think of it as an adventure,” she said between giggles. Bridgette left the room, taking the card with her. I was out of the jacket and the blouse when I noticed Anna’s eyes fixed on me in the glass. I had the strangest sensation that they lingered on my breasts.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I don’t think that bra fits. That’s it, we’re going lingerie shopping,” she announced. For a minute, I had thought her look was something else, but I brushed it aside and finished getting dressed.

  “Phoebe, do you want to go lingerie shopping?” I asked, hopeful that she would rescue me.

  “Ahb-so-loo-mon,” she responded. We all collapsed into laughter.

  We went through another three shops before lunch. Anna decided my palette was cocoa brown, cream, and black with turquoise accents. I already owned enough black, but I bought bags and bags of other three colors. I managed to talk Anna out of having me buy a chunky turquoise necklace with Jakob’s credit card. It felt like I was being greedy. She frowned at me and steered us toward a shop for something cheap.

  It looked a lot like a warehouse with a bare concrete floor and Swedish pop songs blaring. She gave me a handful of loud graphic t-shirts with swirls of color and crazy prints. They were cute, but I wondered about the price.

  “Seventy dollars for a T-shirt?” I shook my head.

  “It’s not a T-shirt,” Anna said.

  “Why not? What’s the difference?”

  “A T-shirt costs twenty bucks,” Phoebe cackled. Anna knew when to give up, and finally at two o’clock, we headed to lunch. The café Anna picked was in the shopping district. We sat in the back garden underneath fans that were barely winning the battle against the heat.

  “Okay, ladies, I need a favor,” I said with a deep breath. “I need you to take tickets off my hands.”

  “Play tickets?” Anna asked.

  “Sort of, it’s a revue, a fundraiser.”

  “Sounds like there’s something missing here. Dish, chica,” Phoebe commanded.

  “No dish, I bought them for Jakob and me but we’re not going to use them.”

  “Oh no, you feel like there’s a lot more to this.” Phoebe looked at me. “Don’t make me take it from your pretty little head.”

  “It’s a drag show. I thought I could convince Jakob to—”

  Phoebe’s howls of laughter cut me off.

  “Care to explain the joke?” Anna asked me, well aware that Phoebe could barely breathe.

  “Jakob has a problem with gay men. When I bought the tickets, I thought I could convince him to get over it,” I offered meekly.

  “Uh-huh.” Anna gave me a stern look then turned back to Phoebe. “What’s the extent of this problem?”

  “He’s fine in the usual situations, it’s just when there’s public affection. He turns into this mix of horrible emotions I don’t even want to talk about, especially if another man accidentally touches him,” Phoebe listed.

  “Yeah, I’d call that a problem or, you know, homophobia,” Anna agreed.

  “He’s six hundred years old. I think we can cut him some slack.” I didn’t want to tell them what I knew about where his issues came from. It didn’t feel like my secret to tell. I’d bought the tickets a month ago, hoping he’d be better with things. But our conversation the other day made me decide not to push it.

  “Hey, if you want to date a bigot, that’s your call,” Anna said, suddenly enthralled by the menu.

  “He is not a bigot.” I started to get annoyed at her tone. Sure, I was giving up tickets to a show but if I wanted to see it, I could go on my own. He wasn’t denying me my only chance. Besides, Anna didn’t have a right to judge without knowing the whole story.

  “Whatever you say, dear,” Anna responded dryly. “We’ll take the tickets, I’m sure it’ll be a fun show.”

  “Jakob’s issues are his own. We’ve all got things we need to work on,” Phoebe soothed.

  “Right, because there are lots of good reasons to hate an entire group of people for half a millennium.” Anna had to have the last word before she would let the subject drift back to shopping. Once again, we were back to my lack of coordination. Anna gave instructions on how things went together while I tried to remember it all.

  “Wait, the scarf with the print shirt? But they’re both prints,” I said, confused.

  “You can put prints together, as long as the scale is different. Although maybe you shouldn’t.” She considered it for a minute. “Okay for you, the scarf goes with the suit and the neutral shells. The print shirts go with the solid skirts.” Anna lectured as our salads arrived.

  I might burn off a thousand calories at work, but a morning of shopping designer boutiques had me on a diet. I suspect the diet wouldn’t last once I got to Indigo’s shop, but for now it was salads and water with lemon juice.

  “You should have her write it down for you,” Phoebe suggested.

  “Would you?” I turned to Anna with hope in my voice. It was the only way I was going to keep everything straight. Anna rolled her eyes but took out her planner and started writing. She was halfway down the sheet when my cell phone rang.

  “Detective Mors, um, we need you here right away.” The voice on the other end sounded wobbly.

  “Who are you and where’s ‘here’?”

  “Umm, sorry this is Officer White, and on campus, I mean on the college campus. There’s a murder scene, Artmann told me to call SIU, but they’re going to need you. It’s a mess.”

  I grabbed the pen from Anna and got the address. I didn’t ask Officer White anything more. We’d worked together before and that murder scene hadn’t bothered her at all. She was part of an old witch family, so the supernatural didn’t bother her. Whatever did have her that upset, it must be pretty bad.

  I said my goodbyes to the girls, and they promised to drop my packages at home. Phoebe even promised to keep Anna from molesting Jakob in his sleep. When I smiled at her joke, I didn’t realize it was the last smile I’d have for the rest of the day.

  The college campus was only a short taxi ride from the shopping district, but it made a world of difference. Here the streets were made to accommodate a crush of cars, not leisurely shoppers. Parking was impossible, though, as most of the campus was being returned to lush green space.

  The cab let me off at one of the lawns. I could see a cluster of cops outside a building not too far from where a tall oak tree marked the fringe of a wooded patch. I cringed, wondering why our killer had a thing against oaks.

  Officer White picked me out of the crowd and nodded. She was standing away from the crime scene, her hair in a long blond French braid. I hadn’t seen her since we last worked together, but she still looked like she belonged in a country club. The bulky police officer’s belt didn’t rest right on her trim hips. The uniform did nothing for an athletic body that should have been in tennis whites. She was a White witch, a family so popular and powerful their name had become synonymous with good magic, but she preferred to be a beat cop.

  She didn’t come over to me, and I could tell why. Sergeant Artmann was standing not too far behind her, well away from the crime scene. Artmann hated all things supernatural and bad-mouthed the SIU every chance he got. Worse, he encouraged the animosity that everyone on the force seemed to have for us, using childish nicknames and mocking our techniques.

  His bad attitude had gotten him sent down from detective to sergeant. He’d worked his way back up, but then been sent down again after he botched the sex witch killings investigation. Danny and I had closed that case, which meant this wasn’t going to go well.

  “Artmann,” I acknowledged him. He opened his mouth to challenge me, but I didn’t give him the chance. I walked toward the bodies, and he refused to follow.

  The crime scene was nothing but gore. Tissue, blood, and broken parts of bone had rained down the side of the building, soaking into the grass. The blood reeked in the summer heat. Underneath it, I smelled vomit. Death pulsed up at me from the ground. People had died here, but there wasn’t enough left of them. Like Peaceful Rest, there was too much death but not enough bodies.

 

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