Shadow Duel (Prof Croft Book 9) by Brad Magnarella (ereader with android .txt) 📕

“It’s Tabitha,” she hissed from her harness leash.

“What’s up?” I asked Gretchen.

“I found the information you asked for on organ harvesting.”

“Okay, great, but can we keep it down a little?” She was getting looks not only from the crowd now, but the investigative team. “In fact, let’s go over here.” I led her to the far side of a maple tree.

She checked to make sure Bree-yark followed before lowering her voice slightly. “In ancient Greece there was a movement among certain cult leaders to only use clean organs for their god offerings. They eliminated the brain and heart first, common sacrificial organs at the time. The cults believed they held humans’ worst qualities: greed, lust, that sort of crap. Over time, other organs were struck out for this or that impurity—the stomach, for instance, because it was considered gluttonous. By the end, the puritanical cults deemed only three organs worthy of the gods.”

“Let me guess—kidneys, liver, and lungs?” I peered back toward the crime scene.

“Yup, and they were offered in boiling blood, which represented the soul, the purest of the pure.”

I nodded at her, impressed. She’d delivered a succinct explanation of exactly what I’d asked for. I couldn’t remember that ever happening.

For Bree-yark’s part, his expression remained stoic; he might have been thinking about our earlier talk. Tabitha was using him as a barrier so she wouldn’t have to look at Gretchen’s face. A few biting remarks emerged from behind Bree-yark’s legs, but I was too fixated on the last thing Gretchen had said.

If there was blood yet to be harvested, the killer wasn’t done. Though grisly, the idea also offered a sliver of hope. We could still stop the killer from completing what appeared to be a god offering.

“Was the Attican cult among them?” I asked.

“Now that I didn’t find out,” Gretchen said. “It’s very possible, though. There were a number of puritanical cults active during that time. They worshipped gods across the entire pantheon, old and new.”

“So maybe the Hermes cult, maybe not,” I said, thinking out loud. “But why Discovery Society fellows? Why would they be targeted?”

Gretchen shrugged. “Anyone hungry? There’s an oyster bar nearby that’s supposed to be halfway decent.”

I caught Bree-yark’s ears perk up, but he quickly flattened them again.

“Hold on,” I said as Gretchen started to turn. “You promised to check out that silver residue on me.”

“Oh, right,” she said unenthusiastically. Even putting on her best face for Bree-yark, she could only sustain her good will for so long. Arms folded, she cocked her head, eyes roving the length and breadth of my body.

“Ah, there it is,” she said at last, then snorted. “Looks like you’re festooned in tinsel.”

“Did someone put it there?” I asked, struggling to come up with how or when that would have happened.

“The pattern’s too random. It’s almost like someone hit you with a blast of birdshot.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, thinking back. “When Bree-yark and I were in the landfill and the garbage animation had him by the leg, I didn’t invoke a protection before dispersing the box’s magic. There wasn’t time. The release hit me in a scattershot, but because it didn’t seem to do any damage, I dismissed it.”

“Well, there you go,” Gretchen said, losing complete interest.

“So that magic’s the reason you’re going into the shadow present?” Bree-yark asked me.

“More than likely.”

I thought about my theory that the thieves’ cult had developed the ability to cross in and out of the shadow present, focusing that magic into an object—possibly whatever was inside the box. Or even the box itself. The first time I’d crossed felt spontaneous, but the second time someone had not only sent me, but arranged for the police to be there to receive me. Once again, I tried to tap into the residue, but I couldn’t feel it.

I turned to Gretchen. “Can you remove it?”

“Afraid not.”

“You’re not even going to try?” Bree-yark asked.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. My magic’s telling me to leave it.”

I eyed her suspiciously. “Are you sure that’s not your stomach?”

“Pretty sure, but I’m getting cranky, which means I really do need to eat. And since you have Bree-yark on a leash even shorter than Tiffany’s, it looks like I’ll be asking Enzo to accompany me. Too-da-loo!”

In a flash of light, she disappeared.

“Tiffany,” Tabitha spit, waddling from behind Bree-yark’s legs. She squinted at Gretchen’s just-vacated spot with murderous eyes. Bree-yark regarded the same spot gloomily before collecting himself.

“So you could still be sent back there?” he asked.

“Yeah, but at least I’ll be ready.” I patted my pockets of potions and the concealed shotgun, wishing I felt more confident than I did.

A sharp whistle sounded, and I looked to find Hoffman waving me back over.

“They’re getting ready to bag him,” he said when I arrived at the edge of the police tape. “Need anything off the body?” He shook several aspirin into his mouth and began crunching them.

I considered Walter’s covered form. I could perform a scrying spell on the hairs, like I’d done with Bear’s, but that would take time. His shadow had probably been similarly incapacitated by the shapeshifter, never getting a look at the killer’s face.

“I’m good,” I decided. “But can we agree this isn’t the work of Vince Cole?”

The bruised bags of flesh around Hoffman’s eyes bunched up as he ran his tongue around his teeth. “I’m willing to suspend that line of thinking till we find something better. What do you suggest?”

“Three murders, three Discovery Society fellows. I think it’s time for a raid.”

“Fine by me,” he growled, “’cause I’m ready to break something.”

29

With a blow from a battering ram, the front door to the Discovery Society splintered open, and the Sup Squad team poured inside. Hoffman and I followed, his sidearm drawn and my grip slick around my sword hilt. The last time I was here, I’d been sent to the shadow present. I was also ninety percent sure the killer had been here that night as well.

In the corridor of portraits, an