Medusa's Dagger: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Aya Harris Collection Book 1) (15 page)

Gideon’s chuckling shook his body. He grimaced at the monkey. “Isn’t a kiss supposed to wake these kinds of things up? Like the frog prince?”

I held the monkey up to him. “I don’t know. Why don’t you give it a try?”

Our laughter was cut off by our host’s disapproving grunt and clearing of his throat. I guiltily turned and tucked the monkey close to my side.

“Thank you for your time. We’ll just be going.”

He nodded, his head barely moving, and extended a long thin arm toward the exit. I shuffled past him and into the halls filled with the remainders of Mrs. DeFleur’s life. We had almost made it to the door when I felt Gideon jump. He yelped and backed against a pile of boxes, sending them tumbling. I turned to see him pointing at the floor.

“What is it?” I jumped to his side, ready for a fight.

“Spider!”

Squinting in the dusty darkness, I could see a large eight-legged bug scurrying across the floor. It disappeared behind a wooden rocking chair. Gideon sucked in his cheeks and steadied himself, brushing imaginary dirt off the front of his suit. He looked up at me while he restacked the boxes, as if daring me to laugh.

“I wasn’t going to say anything…”

The grin on my face said otherwise, so I backed away slowly before he could glare at me again. It was nice to know the smooth and confident Agent Ward had a weakness. Even if that weakness was tiny and harmless. Everyone had their kryptonite.

We slid into the taxi’s back seat, the stuffed monkey sitting between us. I stared out the window as suburbia morphed into the bustling urban city. This short trip had been a welcome distraction from the earlier events of the week, but Michelle and her boy were still out there. I couldn’t keep my mind from constantly wondering where they were. I had the feeling Gideon was thinking the same thing. He stared out the opposite window, his hands in tightly balled fists.

The taxi hit a bump and the monkey prince flew into the air. Gideon and I both reached out to catch him, successfully nabbing him before he hit the ground. I placed him back between us, keeping my hand on the pedestal to steady him for the rest of the trip. 

“Why do you work in that kooky museum?” He frowned at the monkey. “I know you went to school. You could do anything. But you work there?”

I smiled. He wasn’t the first to ask me that question.

“I don’t know. I guess it just feels like the home I never had. I accepted the position there straight out of college because I was desperate for a job. But now, I don’t know if I ever want to leave.”

My first day at the museum hadn’t exactly gone smoothly. Angel didn’t like me coming in to order her around, and the museum had been disorganized and dirty. But eventually, Angel warmed up to me and I got to dictate every little detail of the displays. It felt great having control over something in my life for once.

“I love the stories and the history of all the pieces in my museum,” I continued.

Gideon watched me, his hazel eyes unblinking.

“What we have there, it’s special. Even if our collection is kooky and flawed and sometimes dangerous... I love it. And I love every piece. Even Roni. I really do.”

He nodded and bit his lower lip in thought. For a change, I didn’t feel judged or ridiculed by the question. Gideon seemed truly curious about the museum. I didn’t have to defend myself for wanting to work there.

“Why did you join the Supernatural Investigations?”

I would bet anything someone in Gideon’s family was an SI agent. Those kinds of things seemed to span generations.

He traced a finger along the seam of the driver’s seat. “My dad was an agent.”

Bingo, I was right.

“He retired five years ago to travel around the world with my mom. I’ve always wanted to go into the SI, even as a small kid.” He looked at me, a sad smile on his face. “I thought that by joining the SI, I’d get to do a lot of good in this world. Put away the bad guys. Save the beautiful women.” He winked at me, although I could see his heart wasn’t in the humor. “But some days, I regret it.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I chewed on the end of my thumbnail. While I knew what regret felt like, I was glad to say I didn’t feel that way in my choice of career. The museum had been too good to me.

“I don’t know. It’s cases like these that leave me feeling weak. Like I’m no good at my job.” He looked down again. “We’ve got no leads other than this Theo guy, and no idea where he’s keeping his victims. I have no clue where Nicolo’s hiding or how to get to him. Maybe I should’ve become an architect or an engineer or something other than an agent. Maybe then, I would’ve been able to sleep at night.”

I couldn’t imagine the weight on Gideon’s shoulders. Every case he worked probably took a piece of him with it. The horrors of being an SI agent were never talked about. Even my mother had her own horror stories that she kept locked inside. Fighting the bad guys came with a cost. In the real world, after a fight, Superman came home with baggage. He’d be scarred and beaten. He didn’t always win. And sometimes. he was broken beyond repair. That was reality.

Slipping my hand into Gideon’s, I squeezed it and held tight. He returned the squeeze, looking up at me.

“I’m afraid, Aya,” he said, swallowing hard. “I’m afraid that we’re running out of time.”

Chapter Twelve

The stuffed monkey made it to its new home in one piece, despite the bumpy taxi and a ride on the Arcana city rails. I handed the little guy off to Angel as soon as we got back. If anyone could find a prince hidden in there, it was Angel. She squealed with delight when she caught a glimpse of the little brown monkey, practically tearing it from my hands. He was in good company.

Gideon lingered near the counter, as if I could have a vision at any moment. We’d discussed my visions on the train, hoping that another would materialize. But nothing happened. He’d sent out a message to all the SI’s psychics and other contacts, but so far they had zilch.

If I knew anything about my brother, he would’ve figured out how to shield himself from psychics and magical objects that could capture him. And he would’ve taught Theo those same tricks. We were screwed.

The phone at the museum rang. It startled me at first because I wasn’t used to hearing it go off. The only people that called the museum were telemarketers, and very rarely, Mr. Jones himself. A sudden thought struck me on the second ring. Nicky said he’d contact me. So far, my track phone had remained quiet all day. It was probably him asking for the dagger. I didn’t know what I was going to tell him.

Gideon must’ve had the same thought. He raised his eyebrows at me and then nodded for me to answer it. I picked the black receiver off the counter, slowly raising it to my ear. The hard plastic felt cold against my skin. There was a buzzing in the background that made me think it was a bad connection. Wherever he was calling from, it seemed far away.

“Hello?”

The buzzing suddenly got louder, and I pulled the receiver away from my ear in pain. There was a blip on the line, like a man trying to talk, but it was fuzzy. I glanced at Gideon, fear working its way through my veins like a shot of adrenaline. He pursed his lips, listening closely. Finally, the buzzing stopped and I put it back up to my ear.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Hello, I’m calling for Aya Harris.”

The voice sounded oddly familiar, but it wasn’t Nicky’s.

“I’m Aya. Who is this?”

“Ah, Aya, I thought that was you. Has the SI contacted you with any updates on the missing Yonas case?”

I realized in that instance where I knew the voice from.

“Ian Welch, I’ve told you not to bother me anymore.”

Gideon threw his hands up and walked a few steps away, shaking his head. He was probably contemplating whether to shoot Ian Welch or simply throw him in jail for messing with the investigation. Either way, I was game.

“I just want a comment from you. Anything you can tell me. I know there’s more to this case. Has Agent Ward been in touch with you?”

“No comment.” I slammed the receiver down.

All the anxiety that had been rushing through my veins only seconds ago made my knees shake as it fizzled out.

“He just doesn’t give up,” I said. “When will he get a clue?”

“I’ve never known a demon who could take a clue.” Gideon shrugged. “He’s already sold his soul to get to the top – he’ll do anything else it takes. I’m not surprised he’s harassing you.”

Angel came running up to us with her cellphone in hand. Her face was flushed like she’d just run a mile in her Jimmy Choos. She hopped next to me, tucking back a strand of hair behind her ear, and waved for Gideon to come closer.

“I’ve got a crazy idea to help the case,” she said. “There was a rumor a while back that someone who can perform a locator spell resides in Arcana. I talked to my friends who dabble in magic – it took me all day – but I think I’ve finally got a reliable location for him. He might be able to find this Theo guy for us.”

I held back the flutter of excitement in my stomach. Locator spells weren’t as easy as they made it look on TV. It took powerful magic to find someone who didn’t want to be found. And as always, powerful magic came with a cost.

“Where is he?” Gideon’s face came alive with action. He finally had a lead to pursue. “What do we need?”

“His name’s Limax. He’s set up residence under the old sewage plant on the East end.” Angel grimaced as if she could already catch a whiff of the sewers. “And just so you know, he’s a giant slug demon. It’s not going to be easy getting him to help us.”

I’d heard of slug demons. They tended to live solitary lives underneath big cities. It was pretty common for them to be involved in illegal trade and black market dealings. The SI liked to keep tabs on most of them, but Limax must’ve escaped their notice.

I’d never heard of a slug demon performing magic, but it didn’t surprise me. Demons liked power, no matter what form it came in. Performing magic was just another feather in its cap.

Gideon sighed, a disappointed frown on his face. “Will he even talk to me?”

“My friend says Limax has agreed to at least talk to us, but you’re the only SI he’ll allow in his sewers. So, better not involve your hot-headed partner.” Angel hadn’t forgiven Agent Silva for attacking me last night. “But before we go, we need something from our target. A fingernail, a drop of blood, anything physical. We need it to find him.”

I buried my hands in my hair. It was hopeless. We didn’t even know what Theo looked like, let alone possess a drop of his blood. And I doubted Nicky had anything. Even if he did, there was no way in heaven or hades he’d give it to us. We were stuck.

“We don’t have anything like that,” Gideon mumbled. The new found hope began to drain from his face. He rubbed the back of his head, eyes glazing over in thought.

Maybe we were going about this all wrong. Maybe we didn’t need to find Theo after all.

“Wait, we have another way,” I said. “Is there anything we can use from Michelle or Kit? Anything in their apartment that would work.”

Gideon’s face lit up. “Yes. When our forensics team did a sweep of the apartment, they found Kit’s baby book. It had a lock of his hair.”

“That’ll work,” Angel said, a giant smile stretching on her face.

I looked around the lobby. It was already past closing time and the museum was empty. “I’m coming with you. We can swing by the apartment and then head to the sewage plant.”

Gideon gave me a warning glance. After all my speeches last night about staying away, he was right to look at me that way.

“I’m coming with you,” I repeated with a stern look. “Someone has to be around to save your arse.”

The sky had already morphed into an obsidian black abyss by the time Gideon slid into the driver’s seat of his Sedan, tossing the baby book into my lap.

“It’s all there,” he said, putting the key in the ignition.

Angel looked over my shoulder from the back seat, as I opened the book and pulled out the lock of hair. Straight black hair tied together with a tiny blue ribbon. It was hard to shake off the guilty feeling I had for destroying Michelle’s keepsake, but I was sure she’d forgive me if it led to her and Kit’s rescue.

On the open page, I spotted neat handwriting that curled and looped across the lines. She’d lovingly filled out every bit of the book, marking down the dates for Kit’s first haircut, his first step, his first word. Even the family tree in the front of the book had been painstakingly filled out with generations of Michelle’s family. The father’s side was conspicuously blank.

We drove past the Arcana shopping centers and into the shadier parts of town. Tiny homes with curled up shingles and paint peeling from their siding lined the streets. A pathetic park with one working swing and a rusty old seesaw was the last thing we passed before pulling into the sewage facility.

The city had closed the plant down five years ago due to faulty machinery, and a big blow up on the city council about sewage run off getting into the nearby river. A brand new sewage plant on the north western part of town took over the job, leaving those on the east side with fewer job opportunities and a decaying old sewage plant.

Gideon pulled into the empty lot. We got out and headed toward the giant pipes we spotted at the rear of the building. Angel’s friend had said Limax lived underneath the plant, in the man-sized pipes that were supposed to be empty. I shuddered at the thought of a giant slug slithering under our feet. This was the very edge of town, so the city’s enchantment probably wouldn’t hide his true form. And I wasn’t sure if it even worked down in the sewers.

The drainage pipes were as tall as me. A small amount of water trickled from their giant mouths, forming a polluted stream that flowed into an overgrown brush. We climbed a stack of rocks to pull ourselves into the pipes.

I was regretting that I didn’t think to change at my apartment. My skinny black jeans and light pink satin blouse weren’t going to hold up well in the sewers. Already, dirty water and rust from the pipes covered my hands, and we hadn’t even gone two feet.

“Where’s this slug at?” I wiped my hands on my pants, but the red from the rust still stained my palms. “Do we have a way to contact him?”