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“Is August?”
He paused a little too long. “He’s momentarily tied up. Belzer doesn't believe a hound should eat the hare being used to lure big game.”
“And Winnie?”
“After Ingram Hayes and his lot are resolved, you and I will be splitting that bill,” he said, opening the door to the truck to offer the pelt one last time. “Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I’d like to be getting on.”
I closed the door for him. “What’s the plan?”
“Interview with a monster at nine, then my schedule is well and truly clear.”
“I hope your conscious isn't.”
He frowned.
Together, we headed into the rippling twilight that was Zakar’s shop. The stung lights had been dimmed and there were fewer candles than when last we'd visited. Any light remaining glowed orange while the shadows on the tented ceiling glittered with false stars. The setting felt intimate in an uncomfortable way. The shop reeked of amber and leather, of musk and dirty sex and unspoken ritual.
“Oh, sheriff, you've brought me a delightful surprise this evening,” a mellow, cheery voice rang out from the darkness. Zakar, dressed in similar attire as when we’d first met (in-person, anyway), stepped out from behind the hidden door. “What a pleasant surprise it is to see you again, Deputy Davins.”
He took my hand. His beard tickled my wrist as he pressed his lips against my pulse, watching me through twinkling emerald eyes.
“Miss Davins, please.”
He made a deep-throated “oh” sound delightfully naughty. One blonde eyebrow lifted. “Trouble in paradise?”
I looked over my shoulder at Caelan. The sheriff's frown flickered in the candlelight. “I’m tired of pretending.”
“Aren't we all?” Zakar purred, pulling out a chair for each of us. He seated himself at the opposite end, just beside the hidden door. The trick wouldn’t work a second time; he appeared to acknowledged that fact by leaving it slightly ajar. He set his elbows on the table, folded his hands together and cradled his chin. “Humans are fantastic pretenders. The very best, I'd wager. Do you know what else they are?”
“Curious,” I said coyly, reclining.
The shaman smiled, spreading his arms wide. “You’re in luck, Miss Davins, for I am here tonight to satisfy your every curiosity.”
“Regardless of what she’s calling herself today, that’s my deputy you’re addressing.” Caelan was not near as interested or relaxed as he set his notebook on the table and sat.
Zakar’s eyes narrowed on Caelan. “Pardon me, sheriff. I have the utmost respect for men and women of the law. In fact, I am a platinum sponsor of the CPA’s Haunted Hallows Ball, not to brag. Now, Miss Davins, a little birdie told me you’re the department’s first human. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Not for much longer, though, according to Otherworld custom. A shame, that.” He pouted a moment, then gestured at display with an oxidized, gilded mirror and several dried florals. Reflected back were only the barest shadows, his tall and thin and looming, mine an indeterminate splotch against the dust. “Did you know humans are the only species capable of being turned into other things?”
“The Eevee of our world,” I decided. Caelan's expression was blank as he asked what an Eevee was. “Little fuzzy Pokémon? Turns into a different element depending on what stone you touch it with?”
He shook his head.
I opened my mouth to tease him, when I remembered what his childhood had entailed. “Show you later,” I promised.
Zakar traced his nail along an inky fleur di lis on the table's patterned cloth. “I was thinking more uncut fabric. A wolf, a fox, a cat, a bat: the shape depends on who holds the scissors. Humans are wells of untapped magic, which is why we make good conduits.” His eyes met mine across the table. “And why the worst of us make strong necromancers.”
“Is that what you are?” I asked.
He leaned back with a musical laugh. “I prefer 'Le devin du village.' Or healer, or shaman. I read the needs and help those who ask, be they human, werewolf, or something else. Allow me to demonstrate. Your hand, Deputy.” Zakar reached across the table, palm up.
Recalling the last time, I moved my chair until I was knee to knee with Caelan.
“Only if you want to,” he murmured.
“That’s right.” Zakar’s voice made for a pleasant echo. “Only if you want to, Marcy.”
