Read Online Hotter Than Helltown: An Urban Fantasy Mystery (Preternatural Affairs Book 3) by S.M. Reine - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: S.M. Reine
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was following. She wasn’t. Fritz must have left her at the OPA offices, where she had been expecting to interview Bubba Tanner.
“What do you think?” Fritz asked again.
Right, he’d been talking to me. “I think this is the same demon who killed Brandon.”
“Are you sure? The methods of murder are drastically different.”
No, I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t be sure of anything until I had a confession on paper. Fritz knew that—he was testing me. And Janet was obviously listening in.
“The specifics of the mutilation is different, but there are other identical markers. The power outage, the clocks stopping simultaneously, the physical profile of the victim. There’s no reason to think that it’s another killer.”
“We could ask him,” Fritz said softly. I checked the open doorway at the top of the stairs again. Still no Isobel.
I lowered my voice. “Jay Brandon didn’t remember anything. What are the odds this guy will?”
“Then what do you propose?” Fritz asked.
“I’m thinking it’ll take old-fashioned detective work. Just have to ask a lot of questions, comb the scenes for evidence, put it all together like a puzzle.”
“Or you could behave like the witch that you are and reconstruct the scene magically.” Fritz thrust the briefcase he was holding at me. “This is for you.”
“What is it?”
“Look inside,” he said.
The second my hands contacted the bag, I knew that it was powerful—the kind of powerful that made my sinuses tickle.
I kept most of my magic supplies in duffel bags, like the ones that I took to the gym. Trust Fritz to think that he should stick magical supplies in a designer leather briefcase.
It was stamped with a craftsman’s mark and the material felt like butter in my hands. Inside, I found compartments built specifically to cushion glass vials, which contained all the standard herbs I used as well as a few more obscure ones.
“Check the back,” Fritz said. “I asked Belinda to put in a pocket sized for your notebooks. I know how much you love those Steno pads.”
Now I felt even worse for throwing mental shade at him over the jock jams. “Gee, Fritz. You shouldn’t have. It’s not even our anniversary.”
“Think of it as an early congratulations for passing your aspis licensing test. You’re ready to take the test, right? It’s coming up on Tuesday.”
My mouth felt dry. “Oh, yeah. Definitely. One hundred percent ready.”
“Good,” Fritz said. “Because once you pass the test, we’re doing the binding ritual the next day. I’m looking forward to the benefits of your protection.” He plucked a jar of salt out of the briefcase. “Furthermore, if you’ve studied the handbook thoroughly, you’ll already be familiar with the spell required to reconstruct the murder.”
“Reconstruction spell,” I said. “Yeah. Right.”
I hadn’t gotten that far in the handbook yet. It was probably in the truncated Book of Shadows at the end—the contents of which would, in fact, be included on the test. If a witch couldn’t cast those spells, then he wouldn’t be able to cast the binding ritual, either.
But… Jesus , that was complex magic. It required a big ritual. Much bigger than anything I ever did.
Domingo could have done it, easy. Suzy could probably do it in her sleep.
I wasn’t my brother or my partner.
Fritz’s hand settled on my shoulder, heavy and reassuring. He steered me into the corner and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Someone in the office has contacted the vice president.”
“Lucrezia de Angelis?” As if there was another vice president that Fritz would be worried about.
His expression was almost neutral, but his lips had gone so tight that they were white around the edges. “She heard about Belle’s visit. I don’t think the VP knows what Belle can do yet, but she’s asking questions about why we would have another witch consulting on cases. Some of those questions also involve your readiness to become
“What do you think?” Fritz asked again.
Right, he’d been talking to me. “I think this is the same demon who killed Brandon.”
“Are you sure? The methods of murder are drastically different.”
No, I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t be sure of anything until I had a confession on paper. Fritz knew that—he was testing me. And Janet was obviously listening in.
“The specifics of the mutilation is different, but there are other identical markers. The power outage, the clocks stopping simultaneously, the physical profile of the victim. There’s no reason to think that it’s another killer.”
“We could ask him,” Fritz said softly. I checked the open doorway at the top of the stairs again. Still no Isobel.
I lowered my voice. “Jay Brandon didn’t remember anything. What are the odds this guy will?”
“Then what do you propose?” Fritz asked.
“I’m thinking it’ll take old-fashioned detective work. Just have to ask a lot of questions, comb the scenes for evidence, put it all together like a puzzle.”
“Or you could behave like the witch that you are and reconstruct the scene magically.” Fritz thrust the briefcase he was holding at me. “This is for you.”
“What is it?”
“Look inside,” he said.
The second my hands contacted the bag, I knew that it was powerful—the kind of powerful that made my sinuses tickle.
I kept most of my magic supplies in duffel bags, like the ones that I took to the gym. Trust Fritz to think that he should stick magical supplies in a designer leather briefcase.
It was stamped with a craftsman’s mark and the material felt like butter in my hands. Inside, I found compartments built specifically to cushion glass vials, which contained all the standard herbs I used as well as a few more obscure ones.
“Check the back,” Fritz said. “I asked Belinda to put in a pocket sized for your notebooks. I know how much you love those Steno pads.”
Now I felt even worse for throwing mental shade at him over the jock jams. “Gee, Fritz. You shouldn’t have. It’s not even our anniversary.”
“Think of it as an early congratulations for passing your aspis licensing test. You’re ready to take the test, right? It’s coming up on Tuesday.”
My mouth felt dry. “Oh, yeah. Definitely. One hundred percent ready.”
“Good,” Fritz said. “Because once you pass the test, we’re doing the binding ritual the next day. I’m looking forward to the benefits of your protection.” He plucked a jar of salt out of the briefcase. “Furthermore, if you’ve studied the handbook thoroughly, you’ll already be familiar with the spell required to reconstruct the murder.”
“Reconstruction spell,” I said. “Yeah. Right.”
I hadn’t gotten that far in the handbook yet. It was probably in the truncated Book of Shadows at the end—the contents of which would, in fact, be included on the test. If a witch couldn’t cast those spells, then he wouldn’t be able to cast the binding ritual, either.
But… Jesus , that was complex magic. It required a big ritual. Much bigger than anything I ever did.
Domingo could have done it, easy. Suzy could probably do it in her sleep.
I wasn’t my brother or my partner.
Fritz’s hand settled on my shoulder, heavy and reassuring. He steered me into the corner and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Someone in the office has contacted the vice president.”
“Lucrezia de Angelis?” As if there was another vice president that Fritz would be worried about.
His expression was almost neutral, but his lips had gone so tight that they were white around the edges. “She heard about Belle’s visit. I don’t think the VP knows what Belle can do yet, but she’s asking questions about why we would have another witch consulting on cases. Some of those questions also involve your readiness to become
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