Page 70 of Cheater Slicks

“Right now?” Things were starting to snowball, and I was being swept along. “Of course right now. That was the plan.” It was happening too fast but not fast enough. “It’s just…” I wet my lips. “What if I can’t do it?”

Butting Harrow’s cheek against mine, which wasn’t awkward at all, Anunit promised, “I will not let you fail, Frankie Talbot.”

“Okay.” I shook out my hands. “What do I?—?”

Anunit grabbed me in a bear hug, and the room dropped out from under my feet.

We touched down in a bathroom the size of a shoebox, and my heart thundered in my ears.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” I pitched my voice low. “I’ve never seen the bathrooms.”

“This god has a disturbing fixation on cats.” She indicated a mural in the corner I hadn’t noticed yet that looked like Buttons was peeking around the side of the toilet. “I would expect such from Egyptian gods, but there is no reason for Dis Pater to make a cat his entire personality.”

The slightly modern cant of her words left me wondering how much of Harrow she was absorbing while she was inside him, but I didn’t have time to let my thoughts wander. I had a mission. And the first step, now that we had confirmed we were in the right place, was finding the saint’s finger bone and then making our exit. I would prefer to destroy it elsewhere, when I had time to be more cautious, but I was willing to keep my options open.

Shoving me into a corner, she got down on hands and knees and pressed her nose to the crack under the door. She drew in a few breaths, tilted her head, then glanced back at me. “The house is empty.”

Palms sweating, I wiped them dry on my pants. “You’re sure it’s safe?”

“I cannot promise you safety, but the god is not here.”

“Good enough, I guess.” I helped her up then leaned around her to open the door. “Let’s get searching.”

“Do you recall how you found the bones of my kin?”

“I touched them while they were in the ground. That taught me their resonance. Once I knew that, I was able to track the stolen ones to where they had been taken.”

“The same theory applies here.” She aimed, without fail, for the kitchen. “You touched spirits trapped in the enchantment. You have only to close your eyes and let your senses guide you to that source.”

“I…hadn’t thought of it like that.” I might have been too hard on her. This advice was helpful. “Here goes nothing.”

Focus. I could focus. I was great at focusing. Not like I was standing in a god’s bathroom. Or like that god would murder me for real if he caught me breaking and entering. Nope. No worries here. Justfocus.

Matty’s absence hurt the most, so I zeroed in on that. The joy at finding his soul, the grief at leaving him behind. I couldn’t touch him, but I recalled the brief sensation as I swiped my hand through him.

Then came Vi. I had picked up more from her, especially this last time, but there wasn’t a strong enough connection there to guide me. The contact had been too brief. But Rollo, our only successful extraction, had left an impression.

The stickiness of the magic. His determination to get free. The resistance as I fought the enchantment.

I would never forget how terrified I had been to hold his soul in my hands, how afraid I couldn’t meld the two, or how I used extreme measures to save him.

A faint throb drew my attention, and I put my hands out in front of me, allowing the sensation to guide me. I bumped into a couple of walls then smacked into a table. I caught a vase full of flowers seconds before it toppled and decided I would keep my eyes cracked before I lost all hope of a stealth mission.

When I checked behind me for Anunit, I discovered she had abandoned me for her own pursuits.

I hadn’t intended for us to split up, but she ought to be safe enough on her own.

No one could get past Dis Pater’s wards. Except, for some reason, me. He would expect his home to be otherwise secure. But, given how fast he showed up after I began prying Vi out of the parade, I knew he would sense the moment I destroyed the bone. He wouldnotbe happy with me, but I would figure that part out later.

Hopefully before he killed me.

Again.

That same icky-sticky sensation lured me to the rear of the house, to a closed door I pegged as the master bedroom. As much as I didn’t want to know about anything that might happen behind said closed door, I shoved it open and invited myself in anyway.

The décor belonged in any upscale beachside hotel. Lots of blues, whites, and tans. Bland but nice. I could tell money had been spent to achieve the aesthetic. I followed the sensation into what I assumed was the closet, but as soon as I stepped inside, I knew I had made a mistake.

“Hello, mouthy girl.”

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