Page 92 of Hoofin’ It

“Unlike the other victims they’ve had as potential trial fodder, I might actually get somewhere.” I tapped my fake eye. “From my understanding, the last guy lost a whole limb. Eyes can be replaced if you have the money.”

“Prosthetics will never be equal to the real thing, especially in a field like law enforcement. We’ve had a few exceptions in the FBI, but the prosthetics cost a lot.”

Larry cleared his throat. “Tell the lady how much that eye of yours will cost.”

Since popping my eye out and tossing it at Ernesto’s vampire spawn child would probably cause a wreck, I settled for a grunt. I couldn’t remember if I’d told Marian the cost of the eye I couldn’t afford. “Two mil.”

“Ernesto could pay it without missing a beat. You should let that vampire actually be useful.”

“Doesn’t work that way, badge babe. The good guys don’t become indebted to the bad guys for a two million dollar eyeball. It would end my career as everyone would question why someone like Ernesto would help someone like me with something like that.”

“There’s nothing illegal about charitable donations to a good cause. Giving a cop an eyeball is a good cause. I bet he could legally write it off his taxes, too, if he established a charity fund to help those injured or crippled in the line of duty.”

“Where did you find this lady, Gibby? Think she’d come work for Papa?”

“FBI agent,” I reminded him.

“But she’s smart and pretty. Papa would love to have her batting for him.”

“No.”

“Gibby, don’t be so cruel. Papa would owe you more than two mil with a broad like her batting for our team.”

“No.”

“You are as Papa says, mean and cruel. What has he ever done to you to deserve such treatment from you?”

“He exists.”

“Evil!”

If I banged my head against the window hard enough, would I render myself unconscious for the remainder of the thirty-minute drive to the underground mall skirting the canal? “I think you’re confused. Vampires are evil. Cops are good. She’s the cop, I’m the ex-cop. You and Ernesto are vampires. What does that make you?”

“Misunderstood.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Deep beneath the heart of Chicago, the storm drains emptied into a canal, which cut across most of the city before disappearing into the depths of the third level. Magic darkened the water to hide what lurked beneath the surface, and that same magic hid the smell, something my nose appreciated. I’d been to Lower Chicago once when the magic had failed, and the experience had taught me one very important lesson.

If anyone dredged the canal, they’d find bodies—a lot of bodies. Not a week went by without a body turning up in the Chicago river, and I had no doubt corpses gave the underground water its distinctive stench. I still wasn’t sure who maintained the spells that kept the canal’s smell from driving everyone away, but I appreciated their work.

Most people had no idea what the dark water hid. While I got a card from Larry so he could come and pick us up later, Marian stared at the rippling surface with wide eyes. “Shane, the water’s black.”

Larry grinned and winked at me, flicked a salute, and drove off, leaving me alone with the FBI agent who’d turned my world upside down and made me like it. “Do yourself a favor. Don’t fall in.”

“Why not? It doesn’t look that bad, just weird. Why’s the water black?”

Capturing her wrist in my hand, I pulled her a safe distance from the canal. “Magic. It’s an illusion—a good one. It’s also hiding the smell.”

“Smell? What smell?”

“Do you want the pretty version or the truth?”

“Truth.”

I pointed at the canal. “Corpse stew.”

She blanched. “And no one has pulled them out?”