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My phone rings. Joe.
“Yeah?”
“Someone fucked with the electricity on that block last night. There are reports of the lights going off from dusk to this morning, and since they’re set on auto, they came back on this morning when they don’t usually.”
“Thanks.” I tell Violet, who only frowns but nods.
“Do you have like a special bag or something to hold evidence? We should maybe?—”
I do not have the time or patience for this.
“For fuck’s sake, stuff them in your bra if you’re that worried.” I turn to the door and push the doorbell. Out of the corner of my eye, she makes a gesture thatcouldbe flipping me off, but when I look sharply back at her, she shrugs her shoulders at me innocently. Probably just as well. Hauling her over my knee to teach her respect probably wouldn’t go over too well right now.
The flowers are gone. I wonder if she took my advice. I imagine them pressed up against her perfect breasts, and with effort, pull my mind back to the job.
I turn back to the door at the sound of footsteps heading our way. Like many apartment buildings in downtown Salem, the door and stoop are aged with time and wear. A potted plant, the leaves dried and dead, sits to one side of the stairs. Below us, on the ground, my eyes fall on a crumpled condom. I hate that Skylar lives here.
Someone speaks to us through the door. “Who’s there?” Lottie.
“Cain, Skylar’s brother. Open up, please.” Thepleaseis an afterthought. I try to remember my manners. Manners can sometimes get you places, but they’re damn inconvenient.
Hushed voices rise and fall on the other side. Violet and I look at each other in silence as the door stays shut.
She shakes her head. “Now remember, you can’t just go in there and kill them,” she says in a whisper so soft I can barely hear her. I didn’t even realize my hand was already grazing the butt of my gun. It’s a little scary how she reads my mind.
“Why not?” I whisper back. I’ve killed for less than this, and I’d do it again. This is my sister we’re talking about, my goddamn sister, and if anyone hurts her?—
“Laws,” Violet whispers. “You’re no good to your sister in jail or dead yourself.”
“Fucking logic.” She can try all she wants, but she won’t stop me if anyone’s hurt Skylar. No one will.
I turn back to the door and raise my hand to knock, when I hear the clicking of metal, and the doorknob turns. Lottie, my sister’s roommate and best friend, stares at me with wide, haunted eyes behind thick glasses. Her purplish black hair’s in braids on either side of her head, and she wears a black cape with a black and silver dress over her curvy body. Someone I’ve never seen before—man or woman, I don’t know yet, dressed in drab black clothing with long dark hair— stands next to her.
Lottie’s voice is pained. “I didn’t do it, Mr. Master. I had nothing to do with it.”
Never a good way to begin a conversation.
“Do what?” I just want to get inside so I can ask some questions. I take a step toward her, and she steps back. Violet watches us both curiously.
“Any-anything.” She’s terrified of me.
Sometimes, that works against me. Sometimes it’s in my favor.
I consider shoving past them to get inside, demanding answers to questions and scouring the place for clues, but I know that brute force isn’talwaysthe best response.
I look to Violet, and with subtle eye movements and a slight jerk of my head, silently ask her to get us in here without someone shitting their pants.
She steps forward, a smile on her lips.
“We didn’t think you were to blame.” Her voice exudes confidence and grace. She looks so small, so wholesome, no one would realize how quickly and easily she could cut or maim them. Her voice gentled, she stands close to me, as if showing with her physical presence that she’s with me, and we mean no harm. “We’re concerned, though, and want to help. Let us in, please?”
Lottie releases a breath, steps aside, and beckons for us to go in.
The sweet, nearly acrid smell of incense hits me when we set foot inside. It’s hard to tell it’s daytime, with the blinds drawn and nothing but candles lighting our way. Several cats curl around my ankles before gracefully gliding away. I take in every detail I can. Skylar’s never invited me, but I’ve had surveillance on it since she came here. I know the basic layout, but now I’m looking for other details.
It’s a small, crowded apartment. Two bedrooms? The kitchen sink is tidy but cluttered, dishes stacked on a drying rack that’s nearly bursting. Beside the dishes there’s a stack of coffee mugs, Zodiac signs engraved on the outsides of them. A velvet cushion lies on a table to the left, and several long, carved sticks that look like wands sit atop it. A carved structure featuring threewomen in dresses, holding hands around a white candle base, sits to the left of the cushion with the wordgoddessengraved below, and beside the candle a long incense burner casts smoke heavenward. The scent grows stronger.
On one wall several silver pendulums hang on a silver peg, and in the living room, there’s a stand with a large, clear sphere. A crystal ball? Several dragons are displayed on the walls, some carved in 3D and some flat prints. The door to one bedroom’s ajar, revealing an unmade bed and a large stack of unfolded laundry in a wicker basket. One of the cats walks into the room, quickly swallowed up by darkness.
