and I barely got out alive,” Travis lied. “Please, join me in calling for action to help Senator Balfour bring safety and justice back to society. We want the world restored to what it was—it’s the only way humanity can survive. We can’t mainstream the monsters. I urge you to support the senator in passing the Unnatural Acts Act. Thank you.”
He wiped his eye to indicate tears, though I didn’t see any on the screen. I wondered how much Balfour had paid him, and I feared that this “token innocent victim” might be the nudge those last fence-sitting senators needed to vote for his bill.
I canceled the treadmill program and got ready to go back to the office. I knew Sheyenne was going to be furious.
CHAPTER 34
Immediately after the news conference at which Travis told his shocking, and entirely fictional, story about being abused by a succubus at the Full Moon—which only increased the chill that normal people felt at the very thought of unnaturals having sex—Senator Balfour called a late-night vote behind closed doors and finally coerced enough senators to pass the Unnatural Acts Act.
Sheyenne was livid to learn of Travis’s betrayal, and I had to calm her down before she plunged into a poltergeist fury. She hadn’t seen her brother since storming out of his hospital room, and we all hoped not to see him again.
Without delay, Robin requested the complete text of the Unnatural Acts Act in order to study the new law, line by line. When the delivery service arrived at our office, a man in a dusty brown uniform wheeled in a handcart laden with a stack of paper four feet high, bound in a single yawning comb-clip.
“As ordered, ma’am.” The delivery man wiped sweat from his face, turned his cap around, and handed Sheyenne a clipboard to sign. “One copy of the Unnatural Acts Act. Lots of reporters have requested them. You’re lucky you got yours first.”
I stared at the gigantic document. It would have taken me the better part of a year to read an adventure novel that long, and this was a piece of exceedingly dull legislation written in governmentese.
“I’m sure my brother studied every word before he supported the Act,” Sheyenne said in an acid voice. Knowing Travis’s role in Balfour’s shady victory, she was fuming; I could almost hear all the foul names she was silently calling him.
Robin stared at the mountainous document in dismay. “There’ll be job security for lawyers like me for some time to come.”
Sale tables filled the alley in front of the Timeworn Treasures pawnshop, piled high with a random assortment of odds and ends. Estate Auction: Everything Must Go! Alice the gremlin had meticulously checked the price tags, marked some items down for a quick sale, then left the larger pieces for the auctioneer.
While Robin remained buried alive in the new legislation, I took spending money from the Chambeaux & Deyer accounts and went to the auction, dead set on purchasing Snazz’s ledger book. McGoo had found no heart-and-soul listings at all, but I was convinced he’d missed something. I wanted to study every entry, looking for some sort of code the pawnbroker might have developed. I figured that others besides Jerry might want their bundles back.
I realized that the ledger would be advantageous in other cases as well, specifically because it would list who had pawned the theatrical company’s props before burning down the stage. I had left messages to tell Shakespeare that the pieces had been found, but I hadn’t been able to reach him—ghosts were often hard to track down, and he was busy rebuilding the stage for a comeback performance. Once the items were released from evidence, though, and available for reclaiming, I made sure the troupe knew about it. Several of the ghost actors had promised to come to the estate auction, where I suggested they could buy back their props for a song.
After the fire, Shakespeare in the Dark had received numerous donations, and a construction crew comprising both humans and ghosts had begun to rebuild the stage for a new production of The Tempest. The acting company promised to come back with a vengeance—not necessarily a good choice of words. I had seen numerous Tempest broadsides tacked up around the Quarter, most of them strategically placed over the top of Balfour’s You Are Damned! flyers. I still hoped to prove his minions had been behind the arson.
Alice the gremlin had set up a cash box and metal folding