“Did you find anything?” Nora asked. “Like whatever the captain here was after?”
Selene scooped up a backpack Nora had missed beside the couch. “Looks like he’s already done our work for us. Thank you, Mr. Mueller.”
Selene rifled through the bag. Then she cursed.
“Not what you were looking for?” Mueller said with a grimacing smirk.
“He was planting evidence tying Rafe to the child trafficking. Nothing here helps us find out what Rafe is planning now.”
Mueller wheezed a horrible, bubbling laugh and said to Nora, “Not such a bad guy after all, huh?”
“Right,” Nora said. “It was just another way to get rid of Rafe. And save your own skin. But it wouldn’t work—you’re tied to the trafficking, too, Captain. So what did you expect to accomplish here?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Selene said. “He’s failed his mission. He’s not interested in walking out of here alive.” She crouched in front of Mueller. “But I bet he would be interested in a quick death.”
“Go to hell,” Mueller said.
“Oh, I’m not the one who needs to worry about that.”
“Don’t be so sure. I know what you are. You’ve got blood on your hands. More than me, I bet.”
“I do,” Selene agreed. “And I’m about to spill more.”
Without a word, Nora slid aside and let Selene take over. She felt the shadows roil and burn inside her, heard Damastes’s ironic chuckle. For a moment, she hated what she had become, then she sank the thought the same way she sank Damastes, banishing it into inner darkness. Rafe and what remained of the American Children of Phonos had to be stopped, and if it took the blood and pain of one more Phonoi, so be it.
Selene pulled a balled-up sock from her pocket and stuffed it into Mueller’s mouth. Then she poked a finger into one of the divots in his chest. He howled behind the gag. Selene tortured Mueller. There was no nice way to put it, and while Nora might recognize that, as torture went, this was mild, it was still torture. Captain Mueller was in pain. Selene didn’t add to his wounds, but she manipulated that pain. Nora could not count herself innocent—she had done the same.
Selene deepened Mueller’s agony. “Are you ready to answer our questions?”
Nora could see Mueller snarling and raging, but it was all in his eyes, his body growing too weak to fight.
Selene pushed deeper into his gouged chest. “Where are the Edwards children?”
She plucked the gag from his mouth and Mueller gasped, choking on his breath and blood. “Bogdani. I don’t know where.”
Selene shoved the gag back and went at him again.
He passed out twice. Nora roused him with an icy cloth. Finally, he nodded. Selene still didn’t remove the gag.
“What is Rafe’s plan?”
Mueller’s gaze was eager and bright with pain. Nora plucked the gag from his mouth.
Mueller’s voice was thin now. “Re-create the original ritual.”
Nora looked at Selene. It made sense only up to a point—the original ritual had called Damastes forth, but left him stuck inside Nora. Was Rafe planning to call Caedis or another murder god? Or did he have a way to wrench Damastes out of Nora’s body and into another vessel of his choosing?
Selene glared at her to remain silent. “We want to know where the original ritual was held.”
He seemed almost relieved at that, as if he’d feared some larger question. Something he might not be able to answer. “Westchester. Near New Rochelle. Old cemetery in the woods … Abandoned now. An old vault…”
Memory and nightmare shook Nora. “Yes. I know it now.” She shuddered under the weight of recollection. “I know where it is.”
“If he intends to re-create the ritual, he’ll need the Death’s Wings pendant.” Selene leaned close to Mueller and rested her hands on his bleeding chest with enough weight to make blood well up between her fingers. “I know you were present for the original ritual.”
“Yes. I was. Me. Not that bastard. Rafe Bogdani. He says it’s our fault the ritual went wrong. He said he could fix it—restore what was destroyed. That’s why the others trusted him—they needed him. He’s been creating something.… All those kids … Taken him goddamned years, but it’s ready. Or so he claims.”
The ombrikos, Nora thought. That must have been what Rafe was re-creating. Mueller didn’t know what had gone wrong—he was no sorcerer or high priest. She couldn’t let Damastes know, either, or all their caution at the NYChronicle would be for nothing. Nora held her breath until Selene went on.
“And the pendant?”
He turned his fading glare on Nora. “Charlotte’s had it since your idiot father fucked up the first ritual. When her own kids were born, the pendant was part of a ceremony to bind them over to us. To prepare them…”
“For the moment when their own mother would murder them in the name of her god,” Nora said.
Mueller tried to shrug, but it turned into a twist of agony. “Sacrifices … made. Charlotte always knew that. She didn’t get too close. Not like Graham. And the kids had a good life.”
Nora held back her desire to scream and rage at Mueller as Selene said, “But Rafe needs them for the ritual. One of them at least. And with Charlotte dead, he needs their father to perform the sacrifice.”
Mueller nodded weakly. “And the Wings. Graham’s got ’em … explained what Rafe was doing—had been doing. Why Bogdani needed the kids, needed him. Coulda handed him over, but … I’ll be damned if I’ll give anything more to that cocksucker.”
Selene looked at Indigo. “Then, wherever Graham Edwards is, that’s where we need to be. Now.”
Nora got to her feet, looking around. “As soon as I call 9-1-1. If he survives, he’ll be useful in mopping up the details. I just need a phone.” She glanced around the blood-spattered office. “Must be one around—can’t use mine.”
Selene grabbed Mueller by the hair … and snapped his neck. Then she rose and started for the door. “Let’s go. You can use his.”
Nora stared at her. “He could have helped—”
“He would only have died slower. And implicated both of us, just to keep you and Damastes out of Rafe’s hands. Do you not understand that if his ritual with the Edwards children fails, Rafe will still have one other chance to claim a god for his personal puppet? By taking you. And we don’t know how far ahead Rafe is.”
*