I frowned. “You know, we think Letty died from a food allergy, but she was supposed to have had this anti-allergy potion on her.” I leaned forward toward Will. “Where would she get something like that? Everything I’ve learned about potions recently makes me think something like that would be expensive.”
Heidi and Will exchanged looks.
“What?”
“Normally, yes, it would. As would this little concoction.”
Heidi held up the vial of purple liquid and grinned. “But if you live in the Darkmoon and need potions, you go to Alabaster Monroe and he cooks it up.”
I frowned. “Who?”
Will rolled a gloved wrist. “Disgraced potion master?”
I shrugged. “Never heard of him.”
He sighed. “He was one of the best in his heyday, like thirty years ago, but he’s a madman and lost his license.”
“Why?”
Heidi mimed drinking the vial.
Will bent over the cat with his wand. “For imbibing his own potions. Bit of a lush.”
I pressed my lips together and lifted my chin to get a better view of Will suturing up the cat. “Can you give me his address?”
He glanced up at me and narrowed his eyes. “Seriously, how are you still eating? Aren’t you freaked out by bodies?”
I shrugged and slurped up more noodles. “Yeah, dead bodies.” I pointed my chopsticks at the cat. “But the cat’s alive—right?”
He huffed.
“So.” I raised my brows. “That guy’s address?”
Will growled and stared me down. “Oh sure, Jolene, it’s not like I’m busy right now!” He held up his gloved hands. “Let me just wash the blood off, real quick, and I’ll go dig it up for you.”
I grinned around a mouthful of noodles. “Thanks. No rush.”
He shot me a dark look.
10
ALABASTER MONROE
Will ducked his tall head to fit under the porch and rapped a knuckle against the door. Heidi, Will and I crowded together to stay out of the rain which fell in a chilly downpour, though the overhang didn’t help much. Thanks to the Sansea winds, the rain blew in nearly sideways.
I shivered and held the neck of my bomber jacket closed. “You sure this is the place?”
Will rolled his eyes and shot me a look. “Oh gee, now that you mention it, I’m not.” He batted his lashes at me. “I think it’s a great idea to go knocking on strangers’ doors late at night in the Darkmoon District—no worries there.”
I answered him with a flat look.
Heidi danced on her toes next to me. “It’s so cold!”
The curtain over the door’s window pulled to the side, and an old man with narrowed eyes briefly glared at us through the dirty glass before the curtain fell back into place.
Will raised his brows at me as locks clicked on the inside. “You owe us dessert for this.”
“I want boba.” Heidi grinned at me,
I huffed. “Fine.”
The door swung open a moment later, and the old man held it open and ushered us inside with a sweep of his arm. “Come in, come in.”
Will ducked his head and walked in first.
“Well, wipe your feet!” the old guy bellowed.
Will startled and bumped into a crooked shelving unit littered with glass bottles that tinkled together and nearly toppled. My enormous friend grabbed it with his huge hands and righted it. The old man let out a laborious sigh, then moved deeper into the shop, grumbling to himself.
“Shifters—like they were raised in the wild.”
Will backtracked and knocked his shoes against the doorframe. I leaned close to him and muttered, “Oh great, and he’s racist, too.”
Will sniffed. “Alright, you choosy beggar.”
I waved the shivering Heidi ahead of me, then dutifully knocked my boots against the doorframe before sliding into the tiny shop and closing the door behind me. No wonder Will had nearly knocked those bottles over—the entire place was dingy, dark, and cluttered. I had to turn sideways to ease down a path to the back where the old man shuffled behind a tall counter.
Will ducked under a low, crooked beam, and Heidi paused to peer at a decanter of shimmering, iridescent liquid. She pulled back, scrunched up her nose, and sneezed. A thick cloud of dust flew off and caused her to sneeze a few more times.
I pulled my lips to the side, thinking of Daisy. Guess allergies were getting everyone this time of year. Though with dust an inch thick covering every surface of the shop, probably every day was allergy season.
I waved my arm to clear some cobwebs and eased between two bookshelves. Pockets of colored light from glowing potions lit up the dim space and wild, careening, funky music came from an enchanted organ to my right. I frowned, though an amused smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but it seemed the perfect space for a disgraced potion maker who liked to drink his own concoctions.
I followed Will and Heidi to the back, and we stood on the other side of the tall counter from Alabaster Monroe. The old man hobbled about, a stained apron tied around his neck. He coughed, a hacking, rasping noise, and Will and I exchanged looks. That didn’t sound good. Alabaster sniffed and wiped his bulbous, red nose on his sleeve. Oh, good—and hygienic, too.
A small iron cauldron bubbled on the worn wooden countertop. I crinkled my nose as he uncorked a bottle of what appeared to be toenail clippings and shook a dozen or so into the concoction. The liquid flashed a brighter green, then returned to a low simmer. He recorked the dusty, cloudy bottle and slammed it down next to a dish of ice-blue gems, a tray of speckled feathers, and a jar of dried, brown frog legs.
Heidi shivered and rubbed her arms, then scooted closer to me. I didn’t blame her—except for right in front of the magical flames heating the cauldron, the place was just as chilly inside as it was out in the rainy street.
“So.” Alabaster narrowed his cloudy eyes at each of us and slammed his gnarled fingers
