Angelic Deals (Realms Unleashed: Red Angel Book 2) Read online

“There’s another theory going around,” Mark said in a low voice.

  “Is it the vampire thing?” I asked. “Because we’ve already heard that one.”

  Mark laughed. “No way. That’s stupid. No. Some people think she’s a mix of demon and angel, and that’s why the wings are red—colored like their tattoos.”

  “Demons and angels can’t mix,” I said cautiously, refusing to glance at Zel for confirmation. The way the rumor mill was going, how long until they actually landed on the truth of why the Red Angel was an anomaly? They were getting awfully close as it was.

  The thought of someone figuring the truth out was almost scarier than Zel or Ramón realizing I was both the Red Angel and the Souls Sword.

  “Right,” Mark said. “But you never know. Could be a weird accident, or something.” He looked at Zel expectantly.

  “Hmm,” was Zel’s answer. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking because I still wasn’t looking his way, but his voice insinuated it was nothing good.

  “Well,” I said briskly, “text me if you learn anything else, okay?” Without giving Mark time to agree or complain, I launched into my next request. “Now, have you seen any summoners around lately?”

  Mark shook his head, undaunted by the change of topic. “Nope.”

  “Heard anything of interest about them?”

  “Ward’s upped the reward for the Book.”

  That gave me pause. “What? When?”

  “A couple of days ago.”

  “Why?” It made no sense. He already knew where the Vow was and that it was useless now. He didn’t need the Book any longer.

  Mark shrugged. “Because he really wants it?”

  “I guess… What about Cabot? Has he been seen around?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess? Some of them been coming down to the Market. Not sure if Cabot was one of them. Try Linda.”

  If Linda found out I was still going around with Zel, she’d skin me alive. “Sure. Thanks, Mark.”

  “No problem.”

  He waved us goodbye as I walked away, lost in thought. There were only so many people who would share information free of charge. I pondered trying to find Aszu, my housemate’s demon contact in the Market. Aszu was old, he was powerful, he spent his days meddling in all kinds of black market deals and secrets, and, most of all, he liked me.

  But the last time I’d talked to him, he had been vehement about me dropping anything to do with summoners and staying well away from them. He had also mentioned rumors of Chaos being reopened. Did the Book of Souls have something to do with that? But why would the summoners want to reopen Chaos? Nothing good could come of it, even for the most evil mastermind.

  My phone shook in my pocket, startling me.

  A text appeared on the screen. Leo—the dealer who had sold me the memory potion for Cole last week.

  Are you at BM?

  With Zel reading over my shoulder, I typed a fast no.

  I was about to return the phone to my pocket when another text came through.

  Lee just saw you at Alisha’s with the angel.

  Hell.

  The phone shook again, this time with an incoming call.

  “You better answer,” Zel whispered behind me, close to my ear. “It’s important to repay your debts.”

  Since I had no money, I’d been forced to pay for the memory potion with my favorite currency as of late—a future favor.

  Shooting Zel a disgruntled look, I answered the call. “Leo?”

  “Hey, there!”

  I glowered at Zel some more. “What’s up?”

  “I need a favor.” From Leo’s upbeat voice, you’d think he was about to ask me to get milk and not something probably highly illegal.

  “Okay,” I said cautiously. “What is it?”

  “Need you to go check Nash’s place for a couple of things.”

  “I still have no money.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Leo said joyfully. “I don’t need you to buy anything.”

  “I’m very busy. Can’t you go yourself?”

  “Dude, no way I’m going. It’s gross. Plus, I don’t wanna get involved in that mess.”

  “Why would it be gross?”

  “He’s dead. Someone offed him early this morning.”

  “I don’t—wait, you mean he’s still there? He’s been dead all morning and nobody’s removed the body?” Ewww.

  “Gross, right? That’s why I need you to go there for me.”

  I shuddered. “No way. I’m not doing it.”

  “Aw, c’mon. It’s just a little corpse. Bet it doesn’t even smell yet. Besides, you owe me.”

  This week was apparently favor-reaping week. Better to get this one out of the way, I supposed. “Fine, okay. Who is this guy?”

  “Just some dude who deals with information and stuff.”

  Leo made it sound like he was a nobody, and people who dealt in information “and stuff” were common in the black market, but if Leo was willing to cash in this favor, there might be more to the guy than met the eye. The dead guy’s eye.

  Was he dead because he had sold something to the wrong person? It must’ve been something big. Hell, if he made the black market his permanent residency, he might’ve gotten part of Kurtz Warner’s explosion of information at his death. My spirits perked up. He might even have been in contact with the summoners.

  “Where is his room?”

  As Leo rattled off directions, I felt a tapping on my shoulder. I glanced at Zel and rolled my eyes.

  “Hey, Leo,” I said when he was done talking. “Do you know anything about the Red Angel?”

  “Sure. It’s a bio-engineered weapon.”

  “A bio-engineered weapon?” I repeated dumbly.

  “Yeah, they somehow got some angel DNA and made it in some lab and they’re testing her out. Don’t worry, people already checking for any companies that might’ve made it.”

  Zel lifted my hand until the phone was close to his face. “It’s an angel,” he said firmly.

  “Nah, dude,” Leo answered, as if it was no big deal someone else was talking into my phone. “Too fake to be the real thing. Def made in a lab.”

  Talk about conspiracy theories. And once again, the fact that people were calling the Red Angel a weapon brought it too close to the truth for comfort.

  Zel looked like he was about to argue the point, so I jerked my hand free. “Never mind that. What is it you need from the dead guy’s place?”

  “A small jar full of tiny white crystals. They look like sea salt.”

  I was going to go on a limb here and guess it wasn’t salt. “All right. Will text you when I’m done.”

  “Thanks, girl!”

  The call ended. I took another deep breath. Searching a dead guy’s place with his corpse somewhere in the vicinity? Sure, why not. This was the black market, after all.

  FIVE

  According to Leo, Nash’s hidey-hole in the bottom level of the Market could be accessed through one of the narrow, darkened corridors that made the maze behind the bigger shops. Lucky us—we wouldn’t even need to take the stairs.

  The closer we got, the emptier and more silent the corridors became. Even accounting for the daytime lull in activity, it told me the rumors were true, and someone had met their ultimate end nearby. I swallowed hard. I wasn’t a stranger to dead bodies, but those were usually my work, not someone else’s. What if my Red Angel instinct got all hot and bothered at seeing someone else’s handiwork and decided to spring free? God, I hoped there was no blood.

  A figure moved furtively ahead of us, hurrying our way then darting into a side corridor.

  My spirits dipped.

  There was no way we were going to find anything of importance at the dead guy’s place. If Leo was right about how long it had been, the place was likely ransacked by now.

  “Do not be so disheartened,” Zel commented, his voice unnaturally loud in the strange silence. I glanced at him, unsettled by his ability to read my mood.
The dim lights in this stretch of corridor left his expression a mask of shadows. “I’m sure we’ll eventually find someone who knows about the Red Angel.”

  Oh, for the love of everything holy. “Obsessed, are you?” I snapped, fastening my steps. The sooner we got this done, the sooner I could get rid of him and return to my actual investigation.

  “Merely curious,” Zel answered.

  “Are you going to stalk her once I find her for you? Because this obsession is starting to sound a little unbalanced.” And why the hell was I theorizing about finding her—me—and what would happen afterward?

  “‘Stalk’ is such a human term.”

  “I guess you’re more human than advertised, then,” I muttered, peering into the final corridor taking us to Nash’s room.

  I felt him loom behind me right before he spoke in my ear. “Be careful, half-angel, or I shall show you the differences between our species.”

  Right. I’d forgotten Zel had a thing about not being thought of as human. I forced down a snort and studied the corridor ahead of us. It was empty and silent, the background sounds of the Market filtered down to nothing. A weak light bulb flickered like it belonged to a cheap horror movie, reminding me of the Archivist’s reception room. Perhaps they’d shared designers.

  A door stood open under the hallway’s flickering light. I approached carefully, although the lack of sounds told me we were the only ones around. The door was made of metal and had a window carved in its middle, like something you’d see at a dispensary. It was closed by a metal slide.

  The inside of the room didn’t look as trashed as I’d expected, although it was hard to discern all the details in the weak, flickering light. I took out my phone and turned the flashlight app on. The room wasn’t exactly spacious but big enough to move around easily. There was a worktable in the middle packed with open boxes, shipping material strewn everywhere. Hard to tell if that was the man’s modus operandi or the work of whoever had come around to see what they could lift.

  Speaking of which, why was I bothering with the phone’s flashlight?

  I fumbled for the light switch and found Zel’s hand already there. His grin was mischievous as he switched on the overhead light, and I was immediately brought back to our interaction at Keys & Bits, right before Malthuk had made his appearance.

  Hopefully, no demons lurking in the shadows this time.

  “Tried to scare me, did you?” I asked, arching my brows.

  His smile broadened, telling me he’d get me some other way. I stuck out my tongue like the adult I was before giving the room my attention.

  Cleaning services were apparently not available in this part of the Market. Empty energy drink cans littered the floor and rose in an impressive tower on one side. Two tables and a small sink lined the walls, along with a couple of bookshelves and a cabinet of drawers, all hanging open and probably empty. Plastic cups and empty plastic bottles filled the sink, and one of the side tables was there just to hold pizza boxes from the looks of it.

  There was a small pile of books by one of the bookshelves, as if someone had been going through the collection and discarded each volume to the side when done. A couple of plastic bins had been toppled under the center worktable, plastic wrappers and more packing stuff spilling to the floor.

  A pair of legs peeked behind them.

  I grimaced. I’d forgotten about the dead guy.

  Refusing to let my gaze linger, I turned to the nearest shelf right by the door. A few more books, and lots of empty space. This must be where he held the stuff ready to be traded. I poked the tomes, seeing if any of them were of interest. The odds of finding some kind of black book with all his clients’ details or some sort of ledger weren’t in my favor, but as we’ve clearly established, I never ran short of eternal optimism.

  The bottom part of the shelf was a cabinet, its doors halfway open. I sat on my haunches and opened them the whole way, studying the insides. A few jars lay inside, most empty, their lids lying discarded, but a few smaller bottles remained filled. I picked one up and gave it a good shake. The insides became murky when the dredges in the bottom mixed with the clearer green water on top. This was either a mixture meant to look like this or very old. I supposed a bottle of unidentified green stuff wasn’t something people could sell easily—I couldn’t blame whoever had come before us for leaving it behind.

  The rest of the filled bottles looked similar. No jar filled with sea salt-like crystals.

  Straightening, I moved to the next piece of furniture—a long table with a stool shoved underneath. This was where Nash had kept his laptop—always one of the first things to go in this kind of situation. The marks in the dust and the solitary mouse clued me in.

  Behind me, I heard Zel rustling around, probably poking everything, as he usually did.

  I resumed my search, peeking under the table but finding no secret drawer or anything taped underneath. Before moving on to the papers littering the rest of the surface, I eyed the mouse thoughtfully. It was a new model and it looked barely used, unlike the one I’d had to trash last month. I really shouldn’t.

  I would decide later, I told myself. Find out if the dead guy was in business with Cabot and try to find Leo’s crystals jar first. Steal wireless mouse later.

  The papers on the table turned out to be receipts of some sort with no names on them. Note to self: label things better, so whoever came to steal my stuff over my literal body later had an easier time of it. A corkboard on the wall was filled with a few tools and yellowing lists pinned to it. I moved on to the next shelf. It was fuller than the previous one, but no jar of salt or anything that gave me any hint of his list of clients.

  Fast steps outside intruded into the silence. I spun toward the door, butter knife in hand. A man appeared in the entrance, breathing hard. He stopped, startled, when he saw us.

  He eyed Zel warily, then turned my way and lifted a hand to hide his mouth from him.

  “Hey,” he whispered, “have you seen a small leather book closed by a lock?”

  Uhh… “No, sorry.”

  “Shit,” he said with a small stomp of his foot. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah?”

  He tsked. “How long you gonna be here?”

  “Ten minutes?”

  “Can you make it five?”

  “Ah… sure?” Just me, the angel, the random dude, and the dead guy on the floor discussing looting shifts. Nothing to see here.

  “Great.” He turned to leave.

  “Wait,” I exclaimed. “Do you know if Nash dealt with Cabot?”

  The man shook his head. “Nah. You’ll have to ask Bree.”

  Who the heck was Bree?

  It was too late to ask the man, though, as he’d already disappeared. I turned to Zel, my mind busy trying to find any hint of that name in my memories, and found him standing over the legs of Nash, prodding them with one of his low-boot-enclosed feet.

  “Stop poking the corpse!”

  He pouted a little and returned his attention to his side of the room.

  I went back to the shelf I’d been perusing but stopped short at the table. Something about the corkboard didn’t look right. I leaned in to examine it and let out a small crow of delight as I realized the thing opened outward.

  A hole had been dug into the wall behind the corkboard. Nothing fancy—broken plaster, naked brick, and a couple of small plywood pieces to give the two shelves a more stable bottom.

  Unfortunately, and from the looks of it, I wasn’t the only one who had discovered it. I moved the remaining items to the table. A couple of small planners held closed by elastic bands, a notebook, a wooden box, a busted tin box with a few coins inside, a couple of envelopes, and some jars. The one with the floating eye, I left inside the hole.

  As I opened the top planner, my phone began to shake again. I took a peek at the screen—unknown number—and refused the call. It resumed shaking almost immediately.

  I bit my lip. It could be nothing, or it could b
e someone trying to get a hold of me with news. It could be Sol calling me from a new phone hidden from her brother.

  I glanced at Zel. He was back to looming over the dead guy.

  “Stop poking the corpse,” I told him sternly as I accepted the call and lifted the phone to my ear. “Yes?”

  “Hello, red velvet cupcake,” came the voice of the Archivist.

  I stared at my phone like it’d grown spikes. Over by the dead guy, Zel grew still.

  At least he was no longer poking the corpse.

  Carefully, I brought the phone back to my ear. “Archivist?”

  “I need something from that room.”

  “How do you have my number? Wait, what room?”

  “The one you’re in.” The silent duh came through loud and clear.

  “How do you know I’m here?” I looked at the floating eye staring right back at me. No way. That kind of magic didn’t exist. Did it?

  “There’s a camera in the corner, silly.”

  I checked the ceiling. One of those dark semi-spheres was installed in one corner. I walked up to it, pretending I didn’t have to step over the corpse on the way. “Are you serious?”

  “Yep. Now, go back to the hole and bring me the eye.”

  Of all the things here, of course she’d want the fricking eye. “I’m busy.”

  “I thought you liked me,” she whined. “Why trust me with your little bloody secrets if I can’t trust you in return?”

  The damn old geezer. God, if only I could reach through the phone and strangle her. “Fine. But I need to search the rest of the room first.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” She made a few kissy noises and cut the connection.

  The urge to throw my phone across the room was close to unbearable.

  I should have known, I told myself as I stalked back to the items on the table—the last few peaceful days had been the calm before the storm.

  Snapping the elastic off the first planner, I watched it fly through the air with some satisfaction. The planner held no obvious hints of the dead guy’s clientele. Most of the days were empty, with some times and initials scribbled here and there. In fact, I realized, the thing wasn’t current. It was four years old. No wonder it was still there.