Page 9 of Paws & Order

For a moment, I wonder if this is a prank, some elaborate payback from the events committee.

Maybe someone's trying to get a rise out of me before the morning staff meeting.

But none of my usual co-conspirators would pull something like this.

The only sound is the faraway tick of the grandfather clock in the upstairs hallway.

A chill runs up my arms.

I flick on the light, half expecting the bouquets to shudder or rearrange themselves.

They don't.

Still, I tiptoe around the edge of the desk and gingerly pluck one of the bouquets from the corner.

At the base of the vase is a small silver coin, so smooth it looks like a drop of mercury.

No inscription.

No obvious magic, but who am I kidding?

It's Blackthorn Bay.

We breathe enchantments the way other towns breathe pollen.

From the hallway, I hear a familiar bellow.

"Morales!"

I flinch, almost dropping the vase, and place it back on the windowsill.

Mayor Zadok Infernalis drums his knuckle against my door and smirks at the lineup of floral arrangements.

"Well, well," he says, his voice full of glee. "Is it Friday the Thirteenth, or are you simply irresistible to the local cryptobotanist?"

"Good morning, sir," I say, smoothing my shirt as if that will make this less weird. "Did you... happen to see anyone leave these?"

He leans across the threshold, sniffing the air with comically flared nostrils.

Zadok is built like a high-end espresso machine: all angles and chrome and barely contained power.

His eyes are black and bottomless, but today they look amused.

"Not a soul," he says. "But someone's got taste. That's a corpse lily, isn't it?"

He points at a particularly sinister bloom bobbing near my monitor.

"We had those in the Underworld. They attract the cheeriest of company."

I want to laugh, but my skin prickles in warning.

"I don't suppose anyone's called with a complimentary delivery?"

Zadok shakes his head, lips quirking.

"Nothing since the standard angry-letter roundup. Though I do like the avant-garde death motif."

He circles behind my desk, picks up one of the bouquets, and rotates it between his hands.