Page 24 of Fallen Reign (Sins of the Father 1)
âConsider it a gift,â Dionysus said, cocking one eyebrow at Florian. âYour dryad friend here will find them especially interesting.â
Some minutes later, after saying our grudging goodbyes, I finally pulled on the pouchâs drawstring, too curious to contain myself any longer. My heart fell into my shoes when I saw the five kidney-shaped lumps waiting in the pouchâs dark recesses.
âBeans?â I said. âHe gave us beans?â
âTheyâre magic beans,â Florian told me at the apartment, after giving the five lima-looking motherfuckers a proper examination. âThese are pretty rare. Very useful.â He shook them like a handful of dice, holding them up to his ear so he could listen to them rattle. âBlessed by Dionysus himself, it sounds like.â
I groaned, throwing myself into my bed. âAnd I suppose that if you threw them out the window, weâd find a magic beanstalk leading up into the clouds by morning. Then you and I can go climb it, kill a giant, and steal a goose that lays golden eggs. And a lady whoâs also a harp, or something. Raziel can come play her. Itâll be a party.â
Florian glowered at me like I was the dumbest person alive. âDonât be stupid. That sounds ridiculous. This is real magic.â
I grabbed my pillow, pushing it over my face as I groaned. Maybe if I pushed hard enough Iâd suffocate. Thatâd solve the problem of paying the rent pretty nicely. Forever.
; 21
My heart raced as I stared through the car window, watching the house for signs of Monica Rodriguez. I was in a ritzier part of town, me in the passenger seat, Quilliam J. Abernathy gripping the steering wheel with two leather-gloved hands, his engine shut off.
âYouâd think that a less flashy car would have been the right choice for this,â I told him.
Fine. The leather seats were comfy, and the interiors smelled clean and warm from the little pot of air freshener on the dashboard â spiced vanilla â but the thing was way too snazzy and unsubtle for a stakeout.
Quilliam sniffed and turned up his nose. âOn the extremely slim chance that someone recognizes me, Iâm not risking the possibility of being caught driving something â pedestrian.â
âYou donât have to worry. No one will ever recognize you with those ridiculous sunglasses on.â
This was after dark, mind you, significantly past midnight. The jury was out on whether death witches even slept regular hours, but Quilliam had a point. Monica was only human, after all, just another flavor of mage. It was better to take her out under cover of darkness, with less chances of attracting unwanted attention at night.
What choice did I have left but murder, really? Weâd considered Florianâs talents for making coin. Now it was up to me to pull my own weight. And Florian didnât have to know about this one. I was fine with carrying the burden of killing the brujas on my own.
Still, I had to stop thinking of it as murdering the Rodriguez witches. I was just stealing an artifact. Leonora would kick the bucket, but not before taking Monica down with her. Their blood wouldnât be on my hands. Sneak in, snip the Obsidian Rose off its bush, then sneak back out. Done and done.
âWeâve waited long enough,â I told Quill. âTime to make a move.â
âRight,â he said, unlocking the car doors. âGood luck.â
I blinked at him, then frowned. âI thought you were coming with,â I hissed, hearing the mounting urgency in my own voice. The inside of Quillâs car lit up with the pale golden glow of the glyphs on my skin.
âWhat? I promised no such thing. Iâm not getting a cut of the fifteen K youâre getting from Leonora, am I?â
âSo Iâll give you a cut,â I said, testing the waters, knowing that he wouldnât bite.
Quilliam raised his nose. âDo I look like someone in need of money? Iâm independently wealthy.â
I leaned in, narrowing my eyes at him. âThen why are you so invested in this? In me?â
He shrugged. âThis is a test. Have you thought about that? Maybe Iâve got more work for you, and I want to see if youâve got the chops.â He tipped his glasses down, glaring disapprovingly at my chest. âAnd donât get so damn emotional, especially in there. Youâll blow your cover.â
I pouted hard even as I fought to tamp down my anger, and the light of my sigils faded. âI canât do this alone.â
âYou can, and you will.â Quill groped around in his jacket for a moment, then pulled out a silvery contraption. âHere. Use this.â
I took the piece of cold metal, frowning. âPlease tell me these arenât just regular garden shears. Tell me theyâre enchanted and that theyâll protect me from death magic. Something. Anything.â
Quill glowered at me. I felt like we were caught in some never-ending frowning contest. âItâs just a pair of shears. Should make the job easier. Plus youâre only trying to steal the damn thing, not vandalize the poor womanâs rose bushes.â
The carâs interiors glowed again. âShe wonât care because sheâll be dead!â