Leo still looked a little put out that his brilliance wasn’t being lauded, but he made no more protests. “I can keep trying.”
“I don’t know that it’s needed,” said Justin. “What we really need is to find an unlicensed cult serving a Celtic death goddess.”
“Isn’t that what you do all the time?” asked Dominic, a challenge in his voice.
“A little harder when they’re not licensed,” Justin retorted.
Leo didn’t seem so sure. “Didn’t you used to be tight with some groups in the underground?”
“Very tight,” murmured Mae.
“My best source couldn’t help,” Justin said.
She suddenly frowned. “What about your other one? Geraki?”
“I—no.” The suggestion momentarily stunned Justin, then he shook his head adamantly. “No. Definitely not. He’s not a source. He’s a stalker at best.”
“I don’t like him either, but he’s wired into that stuff, right? And he claims he wants to help you. He even did kind of help you.”
“He’s crazy,” Justin told her. That, and Geraki wasn’t like Callista. Superficially, they shared a lot of the same traits. Both were cunning and charismatic. Both were smart enough to command others without calling attention to it. But there was something about Geraki that made Justin’s skin crawl.
Because you’re connected, said Magnus. And he knows things about you.
He could help if you’d give him a chance, added Horatio. Probably with this. Most certainly with your calling. You need to start learning the craft.
“Justin?” Mae leaned toward him, eyes concerned. He realized he’d spaced out. With a feeling of dread, he made his decision. He had only a few days left. Desperate times and all that.
He sighed. “Excuse me a moment.”
He went outside, leaving the rest of them looking confused. “Call Demetrius Devereaux,” he told his ego. “Voice only.”
“Justin,” boomed Geraki when he answered. “Look at that. And here I thought I was going to have a boring day.” Even without seeing him, Justin could imagine the smug look.
“You claimed you wanted to help me last time. Is that still true?”
“No small talk, huh? What kind of help could a megalomaniac like me offer?”
Justin gritted his teeth. “I’d like to know if there’s an unlicensed religion in the Pan-Celt grant. One serving the Morrigan.”
“Haven’t heard that name in a while. Why would I know anything about unlicensed religions? You’ve made some mistake—a rarity, I know.”
“Goddamn it! We all know you’re lying. I’m not asking you to give up anything on yourself and whatever nonsense you’re running.” Justin paused to take a deep breath. “I won’t say anything to SCI. But I need to know about this group. They’re killing innocents, and even if you’re crazy, I don’t think you want death on your hands.”
“‘Crazy’ is an arbitrary term. And someone like you isn’t in a position to judge sanity.” But Geraki didn’t outright refuse. “If I could do this—and I’m not saying I can—what would you give me in return?”
“What do you want? And don’t ask for something illegal.”
“All I want is for you to do what I asked the last time we met.”
“You asked for a lot of things. Most of which I didn’t understand. Because they made no sense.”
“You understood what I meant by yielding your stars and flowers.” Geraki’s voice was low and dangerous. “That doesn’t sound too bad to me. A good bargain for information about a group you claim is killing people. If I can even find out such things, of course.”
Something in Justin’s chest tightened as Geraki’s previous words rang in his head. Yield your stars and flowers and accept the clever compromise.
“I know what the stars and flowers mean but not the rest. I can’t do what I don’t understand.”
“I’m sure our master will make it clear. When he does, promise you’ll do it.”
“Fine,” said Justin, wondering just how much he’d regret this. “I’ll do it—if you can even find out anything.”
“Swear you’ll do it,” said Geraki. “And that this isn’t being used as entrapment.”
“I swear it,” said Justin promptly.
“What do you swear by?”
“Does it matter?”
He could tell Geraki was smiling. “No. Your word will hold you, so don’t try to break it. Hang on, and I’ll call you back.”
The call disconnected, and Justin wondered exactly how long he was supposed to “hang on.”
He got his answer a few minutes later, one that was surprisingly detailed, if slightly ridiculous. But Justin made note of all the information Geraki gave him, promised to make good on the enigmatic deal, and then returned to his friends inside.
“Well,” he declared. “I may have our hit. Turns out there’s a grain warehouse in the Pan-Celt grant we might be interested in.”