Mr. Langley glared at me and I smiled back. “Go back to trumping up charges, asswipe. I’m not dead yet.”
“Correct,” he said in that weird marionette way of his. “‘Yet’ is the word you need to remember, Ms. O’Rylee.” He spun on one heel and stomped from the room, the sway of his hips reminding me distinctly of the realtor who’d auctioned off Gran’s house.
Monica had seemed fairly normal until she stomped outside of the house three times—stomps that packed a metaphysical wallop—and awakened something. She had a connection to the shadow world, and now this strange prosecutor had her walk. My instincts told me it was no coincidence. They hadn’t been wrong yet, so I decided to trust them and act on my gut feeling. Even if this was weirder than most of my guesses.
“Monica?” I called out.
The prosecutor spun around so fast, he had to grab the edge of the doorframe.
My jaw dropped, and beside me, Alan spluttered. “How can that be?”
I didn’t know the answer. What I did know was that somehow Monica the realtor was also Mr. Langley the prosecutor. Which did not bode well for me. The shadow world was really going for broke. It also confirmed that Davin wasn’t the only one who wanted to take me out.
The person in front of me, who was maybe two people in one, glared at me. “You need removing, and that is all there is to that.” Something had shifted, and the entity now spoke in Monica’s voice.
Edna tsked. “Something ain’t right. That one isn’t human.”
I agreed with Edna—silently. Fancy Pants sucked in a sharp breath at the voice change, but otherwise kept quiet. I’m not sure our final cell mate even noticed, as she was snoring on the cement floor.
The door slammed after the prosecutor. Him? Her? Them? Yes, them it was. They were pissed, and I didn’t really know why. Who did they work for? Because I didn’t really think that Monica/Mr. Langley was (were) the powerhouse behind this thing. More like a deliverer of bad news. A memory whipped through my mind of a man with no face. I’d met him on the same night I’d met Roderick, and even now couldn’t figure out what he’d looked like. His facial features had been a blur when I’d seen him in the hotel, and the feeling of menace that had rolled off him was nothing short of knee shaking. Was No-Face Bruce even on the council? Or was he a thug for someone there?
Could he—Bruce—be Monica?
I had no way of knowing. Just one more mystery added to the pile at my feet.
Alan stormed around the cell, hands flinging in every direction, rightly peeved that he’d been “had,” as he put it. He’d thought Monica was a woman. He’d slept with her, so of course, she was a woman. How could she be a man too? His ranting made Edna laugh.
“So you like both? I wouldn’t have pegged you as bi. You seem too uptight to be open to a back-door entrance.”
“I’m not!” he yelled back at her, and then blinked. “Wait, you’re dead too?”
She grinned. “Yes, longer than you’ve been, you switch hitter, you.” She laughed again and waggled her fingers at him. I might have laughed too if I weren’t so tired.
He spluttered and started going off about not being gay, and never being gay, and, and, and . . .
“Can you keep it down, Alan?” I snapped. “Nobody wants to listen to your homophobic tirade. Just . . . enough. I suspect they’re some sort of shifter and can be anything they want to be in a given situation. Man. Woman. Whatever works for them in the moment, or whatever the hell they feel like.”
Once more Fancy Pants gave me the side-eye. I nodded at her and then looked away.
Rubbing my hands over my face I plopped onto the closest bench, unable to do anything but wait. Wait and wonder why Monica/Mr. Langley of all people was so intent on my death. Was there really a connection to the council?
The house had gone for a decent price, so I doubted Monica’s commission was the issue. There had to be some other motivation, but my mind was too numb to turn it over. At nine in the morning, I was going on trial for a murder I had not committed, with evidence that had been fully planted. If I’d been able to, I’d have put big bucks on the trial being done by