Read Online Black Arts: A Jane Yellowrock Novel by Faith Hunter - Free Book Online
Authors: Faith Hunter
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humans in the footage are blood-slaves looking for a permanent master. “They’re both sick today, along with four others in the city.”
“Sick?” I asked. Blood-slaves, like blood-servants, didn’t get sick. Vamp blood kept them healthy, though it also kept them blood-drunk and passed around to be dinner and sex toys among vamps. “Sick how?”
“Fever. Malaise. Leo sent them to his vamps for healing. But . . .”
“But it’s weird,” I said.
“Yeah. Weird.” Before I could ask, he added, “I’ll find out if they all went to the party.” Troll lumbered to the front door. “Later, y’all. And get this fixed.” He pointed to the covered window. “You already put Katie on the bad side of the New Orleans Vieux Carré Commission with your last construction and repairs.” He let himself out.
I looked at Eli and explained, “Historical commission. I fixed the door last time and it didn’t match up perfectly and eventually Katie had to pay a fine, even though we matched the door to the oldest photos of the house.”
“Last time?” he asked.
“Long story.” I studied the list of names on the spiral paper Troll had stuffed into my hand. “He recognized four vamps and eight humans. We’ll talk to them if the girls don’t turn up soon. Any news on Molly?”
“Just one thing,” the Kid said. “The mileage on Molly’s rental car. According to an online mileage calculator site, the distance from Asheville to Knoxville is eighty-two miles. She paid mileage on one hundred forty miles. Molly took a side trip before she turned in her car and disappeared.”
“My wife doesn’t want to be found,” Evan said, sounding surprised and deeply injured.
“Maybe the other things Molly mentioned in her note to you, the ones that needed putting to rights, are part of the extra mileage on the rental?”
“She took care of something nearby, close to home,” Evan said. “Then she disappeared.”
“Mileage,” Alex said. “Lemme work on that.”
The Kid spent an hour trying to figure out where Molly might have driven to account for the extra miles, but it wasn’t happening. There were too many possibilities. Big Evan had stopped pacing and spent the time sitting on the couch, studying his hands. I didn’t know him as well as I knew Molly, but I knew he was thinking about how Molly had deceived him. I needed to keep him feeling positive, so I said, “I need to know everything about Molly. What she’s been doing, how she’s been feeling, who she’s been seeing, what spells she’s been working—”
Big Evan’s head whipped to me. “I told you her magic’s been off. Plants dying around the house, her not being able to heal them. Her magic’s the biggest part of the problem,” he growled. “She hasn’t been working any spells. None. Not since Evangelina died.”
CHAPTER 4
A Touch of Tasteless Snark
The couple had been having problems, something Evan had confessed to us after an hour of silent hand-staring. He didn’t know what had been going on with Molly.
“She stopped talking to me,” he said, after lots of prodding. “She stopped sleeping with me. She stopped working in the garden. She stopped baking. She stopped . . . singing.” He looked at me, his face stricken. “That was the worst part. Molly always sang. Always. I never remember a time when she didn’t sing. Old songs from movies, or Broadway, or church. Children’s songs. Always singing. The house was silent for months.
“The last time I saw her, she kissed me and said good-bye, just like always. There was nothing different that day, except for this look in her eyes. This . . .” His hands flapped as he searched for a phrase. “This determined happiness. I thought it meant she had worked through whatever was wrong. I had no idea she was leaving.” He broke down then, and turned his face away so we couldn’t see his misery.
I had patted his broad back, as if that might help. It hadn’t. And I had no idea what to
“Sick?” I asked. Blood-slaves, like blood-servants, didn’t get sick. Vamp blood kept them healthy, though it also kept them blood-drunk and passed around to be dinner and sex toys among vamps. “Sick how?”
“Fever. Malaise. Leo sent them to his vamps for healing. But . . .”
“But it’s weird,” I said.
“Yeah. Weird.” Before I could ask, he added, “I’ll find out if they all went to the party.” Troll lumbered to the front door. “Later, y’all. And get this fixed.” He pointed to the covered window. “You already put Katie on the bad side of the New Orleans Vieux Carré Commission with your last construction and repairs.” He let himself out.
I looked at Eli and explained, “Historical commission. I fixed the door last time and it didn’t match up perfectly and eventually Katie had to pay a fine, even though we matched the door to the oldest photos of the house.”
“Last time?” he asked.
“Long story.” I studied the list of names on the spiral paper Troll had stuffed into my hand. “He recognized four vamps and eight humans. We’ll talk to them if the girls don’t turn up soon. Any news on Molly?”
“Just one thing,” the Kid said. “The mileage on Molly’s rental car. According to an online mileage calculator site, the distance from Asheville to Knoxville is eighty-two miles. She paid mileage on one hundred forty miles. Molly took a side trip before she turned in her car and disappeared.”
“My wife doesn’t want to be found,” Evan said, sounding surprised and deeply injured.
“Maybe the other things Molly mentioned in her note to you, the ones that needed putting to rights, are part of the extra mileage on the rental?”
“She took care of something nearby, close to home,” Evan said. “Then she disappeared.”
“Mileage,” Alex said. “Lemme work on that.”
The Kid spent an hour trying to figure out where Molly might have driven to account for the extra miles, but it wasn’t happening. There were too many possibilities. Big Evan had stopped pacing and spent the time sitting on the couch, studying his hands. I didn’t know him as well as I knew Molly, but I knew he was thinking about how Molly had deceived him. I needed to keep him feeling positive, so I said, “I need to know everything about Molly. What she’s been doing, how she’s been feeling, who she’s been seeing, what spells she’s been working—”
Big Evan’s head whipped to me. “I told you her magic’s been off. Plants dying around the house, her not being able to heal them. Her magic’s the biggest part of the problem,” he growled. “She hasn’t been working any spells. None. Not since Evangelina died.”
CHAPTER 4
A Touch of Tasteless Snark
The couple had been having problems, something Evan had confessed to us after an hour of silent hand-staring. He didn’t know what had been going on with Molly.
“She stopped talking to me,” he said, after lots of prodding. “She stopped sleeping with me. She stopped working in the garden. She stopped baking. She stopped . . . singing.” He looked at me, his face stricken. “That was the worst part. Molly always sang. Always. I never remember a time when she didn’t sing. Old songs from movies, or Broadway, or church. Children’s songs. Always singing. The house was silent for months.
“The last time I saw her, she kissed me and said good-bye, just like always. There was nothing different that day, except for this look in her eyes. This . . .” His hands flapped as he searched for a phrase. “This determined happiness. I thought it meant she had worked through whatever was wrong. I had no idea she was leaving.” He broke down then, and turned his face away so we couldn’t see his misery.
I had patted his broad back, as if that might help. It hadn’t. And I had no idea what to
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