Half-Resurrection Blues_ A Bone Street Rumba Novel - Daniel Jose Older Page 0,77

that you proceeded into the realm of the dead without first obtaining permission for said activity from the Council.”

Assery! My mind bumbles through the big clunky words I have to say to justify said activity, but I’m still a little tipsy, so I know they’re not going to come out right. “The situation,” I say, very slowly, “was sufficiently urgent . . . as to require . . .”

“Of course,” Botus says with a pay-no-mind swipe of his hand. “We’re just glad you made it out okay.” This is when I realize something must indeed be very wrong. I’ve never heard of him being this magnanimous. “What’s . . . ? How shall I put it? Ironic? What’s ironic, Carlos, is all that trouble you went through and still were not able to fully thwart the conspirator Sarco.”

“Hm, ironic, right.” Trying not to roll my eyes.

“Fortunately, he was found dead, as you know, yesterday afternoon. Perhaps even brought low as a result of some of the damage you inflicted on him during the foray into the Underworld?” I want to stab Botus. But I won’t, partially because my aim would be a little off right now and I don’t think I’ll have more than one shot. He’s going somewhere with all this, enjoying it thoroughly too. “So we are going to close the case, but only partially.”

“Partially?”

“Well, of course, ngks are still there, infesting several buildings around the rogue entity Esther.” Besides calling Esther a rogue entity, this is the first thing Botus has said that I agree with, possibly ever. “And many tantalizing, unanswered questions remain: Who was this character? Where did he obtain the spiritual technology to do what he almost did? What is the nature of his alliance with the ngks? How exactly did he finally meet his end?”

I’m nodding, dazed more by the shock of agreeing than by the alcohol.

“And finally,” Botus finishes elaborately, “who was he working for?”

I stop nodding. “Come again?”

“We have reason to believe, Agent Delacruz, that the conspirator Sarco was actually in league with another entity . . .” I’m not tipsy anymore. My mind is sharp with despair. “One besides the ngks, that is.”

And then my stomach plummets. I know exactly where this is going. And as I think it, Botus is sliding Sasha’s picture across the table with his icy fingers. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

And I’m raging across the room, overturning carefully placed furniture and growling my inhuman wrath as I wrap my hands around Botus’s shimmery neck and plunge my blade through his chest. No. No, not that. I’m nodding. Looking with disinterest, a touch of disdain even, at the picture Trevor showed me those months ago, ignoring the fluttering sensation in my chest. I shrug. Don’t want to overdo it. Just a shrug.

“We believe this person to be, in fact, the mastermind behind the conspirator Sarco’s operation. Or should I say . . . mistressmind?”

That cements it: Botus gotta die. He looks at me for a shared chuckle, but I just stare.

He shrugs. “Anyway, we believe she has designed and carried out numerous breaches of the Council code and may have even manipulated this Sarco into performing her bidding. Perhaps with some form of mind trickery or hypnosis.”

Lies. Impossible, ridiculous lies. “I see.”

“We also have reason to suspect, Agent Delacruz, that she is, like yourself, an inbetweener, probably related somehow to the unsavory fellow you dealt with so proficiently last New Year’s Eve. Well done, by the way.”

I nod. Some of my best work, actually. Completely fucked up my life. You’re welcome.

“Anyway, it’s fitting, in a way, that you should lead up this part deux of the investigation, so to speak.”

“Where can I find her?”

“We don’t know, I’m afraid. May take a little reconnaissance work. But all your operational considerations regarding Sarco should be transferred directly to this new target, considered extremely lethal and a vast threat to the Council and all that we stand for. From what we can figure, an attack is imminent.”

An attack is always imminent, but I don’t have it in me to get slick.

“We want her dead. Deeply dead. Gone. Extinct. Is that clear, Agent Delacruz?”

“Crystal. When do I start?”

“Immediately, of course.”

My voice sounds cold and a hundred miles away. “Excellent.”

* * *

“Well,” Riley says. “We both knew this was going to happen sooner or later.”

I shrug. We’re back at the Burgundy, but I don’t even feel like drinking anymore. “It’s true, but damn . . .” A horrible thought occurs to