he couldn't hint, and I filed the comment away for later pondering.
'I don't suppose this job comes with a fee attached?' I said hopefully.
'Just my undying gratitude,' Dis said, giving me that movie-star smile of his.
'That's what I was afraid of.' I sighed. 'All right, but tell me this: is Papa's disappearance linked to that of the other magic-users?'
Dis just looked at me, and for a moment I thought he wasn't going to answer, but then he simply said, 'Yes.'
I nodded. 'Then I'll take the case. Is there anything else you can tell me before I get started?'
'Just good luck.'
And then Dis turned, stepped back into a pool of shadows that had gathered in one corner of the room, and vanished.
'Thanks a lot,' I muttered.
'Thanks for what?' Devona said, frowning.
She was moving again, as were Varney and Shamika.
'Nothing. Just thinking out loud.' I wanted to tell Devona about the visit from Dis, but I didn't feel comfortable doing so in front of Varney and Shamika. I considered filling Devona in telepathically, but the others would see the two of us staring silently at one another and wonder what was going on. I decided I'd tell her later. I knew Dis wanted me to keep his visit secret, and I would, but not from Devona. She was my… well, my partner, and I wasn't going to keep any secrets from her, even if a god wanted me to.
Devona gave me a strange look, but she didn't press any further. Instead, she said, 'So what's our next move?'
'I think we should head on over to the Midnight Watch. Maybe Bogdan will be able to cast some kind of tracking spell that will allow us to locate Papa Chatha.' I knew it wouldn't be that simple, though. The Adjudicators had access to the best magic and technology available in the city, and if they hadn't been able to track down the missing magic-users, I doubted the Midnight Watch's resident warlock would be able to. But since Bogdan was Arcane, he might have some insight into why someone would want to abduct magic-users in the first place. If nothing else, it was a place to start. Too bad I could barely stand to look at the sonofabitch, let alone talk to him.
I turned to Shamika. 'Why don't you come with us? Maybe you can help Bogdan.' I had no idea how powerful or skilled a witch Shamika was, but I figured Papa was her uncle and she deserved to be included in the investigation – until it started to get dangerous anyway. And what could possibly be dangerous about going to the Midnight Watch?
SEVEN
'I'm going to tear your head off and use it for a bowling ball!'
'Not before I transform you into something small and extremely squishable!'
Devona, Varney, Shamika and I stood in the entrance to the great room of the Midnight Watch. Since Lazlo hadn't been available, we'd hired a skeletal rickshaw pulled by a long-limbed ghoul to get us here. Devona had renovated the great room not long ago, and it had all-new leather furniture, abstract holo art hanging on the walls, and an illusory fire flickering in a brazier set in the fireplace. The mystic fire produced light but no heat, which was great for me since I tend to get a little on the dry and flammable side when my preservative spells start to wear off.
Devona's three employees were there: Tavi stood next to the fireplace, keeping his distance from Bogdan and Scorch, who from the look of things were less than pleased with one another. The two faced each other in front of the large black leather couch, hands balled into fists, jaws jutting forward pugnaciously, looking for all the world like a pair of bickering children.
Despite the fact that it sounded as if Bogdan and Scorch might soon come to blows – or more likely, because of it – Devona strode into the room, looking pretty angry herself. I almost asked her to hang back just in case a fight really did break out, but I managed to keep quiet. I told myself no matter how upset Bogdan and Scorch were, they wouldn't hurt Devona, and I believed it. More or less.
'What the hell are you two doing?' she demanded.
Bogdan answered Devona without taking his eyes off Scorch. 'She started it!' His right hand touched the golden medallion that hung from his neck, and I knew he was prepared to cast a spell – in all likelihood, an appallingly nasty one – on Scorch if she so much as made a move toward him.
Bogdan was an irritatingly handsome warlock in his late thirties, tall, broad-shouldered, with red hair and beard with just a hint of gray. A sharp dresser, he always wore a stylish outfit of one kind or another, and today he had on a suit made of spidermesh that hugged his fit body like spandex. I think spidermesh looks silly on most people, but I had to admit he made it work, damn him.
I should probably mention that he has a crush on Devona too. At least, that's what I – the trained detective – think. Devona says I'm a jealous idiot and it's just my imagination. I admit that Bogdan's never come out and hit on Devona, but I think he's just biding his time.
Devona turned to Scorch. 'Well?' she demanded.
Scorch appeared to be a slender teenage girl with a long blonde ponytail that stretched down to the middle of her back. She usually dressed garishly, and today she wore a Black Flag concert T-shirt cut to expose her bare midriff, along with a mini-miniskirt over a pair of hot pink tights and ultra-high heels. If I hadn't already known she was a supernatural creature, the shoes would've given it away. There's no way a human woman could've successfully maintained her balance on such ridiculous footwear.
Scorch's skin is usually the typically light color of blondes, but at the moment it had a reddish cast to it, and though I couldn't feel it, I knew waves of heat were rolling off her. She was a fire demon, and when she got angry, she literally got hot under the collar, or in her case, under the cutoff T-shirt.
'We were talking about Talaith's unprovoked attack on the Sprawl-' Scorch began.
Bogdan cut in before she could finish. 'Hardly unprovoked. Rumor has it that there's evidence Varvara is somehow involved in the recent disappearances of magic-users. While I admit that Talaith was a bit… overzealous in her response, I wouldn't say-'
'Overzealous!' Scorch's skin darkened a couple shades and patches of scale began to appear. Her girlishly thin limbs swelled a couple sizes, her neck thickened, and a pair of stubby horns protruded from her forehead. Scorch's other form was that of a classical fire demon – big, scaly, powerfully muscled, horned, fanged, clawed, with a long tail that ended in an arrow-tipped point. She only assumed her full demonic aspect when she intended to wreak some serious havoc, and the fact that her change was beginning was not a good sign that she was going to be calming down anytime soon. 'Talaith had the Weyward Sisters destroy both bridges! And without so much as a warning! That sounds more than a 'bit overzealous' to me! It sounds like Talaith is looking to start a war, and if that's what the bitch-witch wants, that's what we Demonkin will give her!' Scorch paused ominously, her eyes turning a very disturbing crimson. 'That's what we'll give all of you Arcane!'
Bogdan glared at her and clutched his mystic medallion tighter, but he didn't start slinging spells just yet.
Tavi looked at Devona. 'I am so glad you're here!' he said. 'The two of them have been going at it like this for twenty minutes now. I tried to settle them down, but they wouldn't listen to me.'
Tavi was an East Indian man, lean and wiry, wearing a tan nehru jacket and matching pants. At least, that was his current form. Like Scorch he was a shapeshifter, but he wasn't a demon. He was a lyke, and as such he could assume a wildform whenever he wished, and given the way he was eyeing Bogdan and Scorch with increasing alarm, I figured he'd been on the verge of transforming in order to protect himself when we'd walked in.
I looked at Varney and Shamika. Varney was grinning like a kid on Descension Day, no doubt recording every second of Bogdan and Scorch's fight for his documentary. Shamika looked at the two of them with curiosity but no alarm. I didn't know if she'd spent all her life in Nekropolis or if she was an immigrant like me, but I chalked up her lack of fear to living in a city where the denizens are just as likely to go at each other's throats as they are to say hello. Nekropolitans are used to sudden outbreaks of violence in the same way that people who live in rainy
