Page 33 of Werewolves Don't Howl
Her face got truly scowly. “Fine. I’ll be a fairy, but only if I can keep the profits from your cookies. I’ll have Mr. Senator’s driver take me so you can stay here and do research. I’ll be perfectly safe on this fool’s errand, so don’t worry that you’re taking advantage of a poor underage chump.”
It didn’t take long to tuck her in the back seat of the black car with several very large boxes of cookies and my potion bottle. “Only two droppers, or you’ll stay a fairy for a week. Maybe a month if you have any fairy blood in your veins.”
She made a face. “Like any goblin would have a fairy. Go do research. I’ll interrogate the neighborhood.”
I started with the case of the missing girl in Golden that Loren had on her computer. There were no signs of struggle, no clue other than Ridley’s interest in her. There was a distinct lack of coverage on the girls’ disappearance. No one had made a point to dig deeper.
I had better luck when I started trolling various conspiracy sites about Lynx with my own Lynx happily purring on my lap. She understood snacks like a gnome. It took time to get even the gossip straight, but eventually I found a site that listed Lynx as one of the secret societies that ran under the radar. It linked to another site on the dark webs where I had to engage my magical protection so I didn’t catch a virus that could literally dissolve my computer, or perhaps steal my soul, depending on the kind of malevolent force you were dealing with. Possessed computers were incredibly not fun.
Finally, I got through his firewall and found an actual article about Lynx, a secret society of science. I frowned at the screen. All that for an order of science? I’d expected an assassin order at the very least, but no, science. What could a science order have to do with a werewolf or missing women? Or Ridley? He certainly wasn’t a scientist. Maybe he’d been a secret scientist.
I sighed and then emailed the guy who ran the site, hoping to get some more direct information, then I went back to compiling cases of missing persons in Golden and other places, checking if each had the same MO. I made a spreadsheet with the pertinent information until I got a ping from the conspiracy guy.
Ooh, a personal message. I double checked my security and then accepted his message.
Don’t ask about things you shouldn’t.
Well, that was useful.
I flexed my fingers and typed,Why shouldn’t I? How could a science guild be dangerous?
It took a moment for his response.
Everything is dangerous if left in the darkness to fester and grow.
Written like a true conspiracist. “Although, he’s not wrong.”
I found a kitten with a Lynx constellation on the collar. I’m trying to find its owner.
I leaned back while I waited for his response.
Where did you find it?
That was personal information I shouldn’t give him, but then again, Singsong was a big place.
Singsong City.
The Lynx constellation has been spotted on the lower levels of the old train station. But if I were you, I’d forget about finding the owner and just send it to a shelter. The owner will look for it and find it there. Scientists who keep their work secret are not the sort of people you want to meet, Delphi.
I sat back with a gasp. He knew my name? The screen went dark, and I didn’t touch my computer. I put Lynx on the floor with an indignant squeak. Soon smoke came out of it and I grabbed it and threw it in the sink before it exploded into flames. An electrical, magical fire wasn’t going to go out with water, but the ceramic sink should keep it from spreading while I hunted for the baking powder. Ah, a nice large canister. I dumped it over my computer, white plumes of dust filling the air until it finally stopped burning. Then I had to open the windows and air out the kitchen, coughing because that smoke was nasty.
I wrapped my laptop in a towel and carried it outside, hoping that would help clear out the smoke. And now what? Now I went to the Union Station and tried to find that elusive Lynx marking.
Before I’d gone anywhere, an extremely dapper goblin walked towards me out of the shadowy hall, making my heart race as I stared at him. Was this somehow connected to getting my laptop blown up? I scooped up the kitten and backed away, ready to defend her with my beast.
He bowed. “Miss Delphi. I’m Henrick, Senator Silverton’s personal assistant.” He gave me a close-mouthed smile, so you could hardly tell he wasn’t human except for the greenish cast to his skin.
I put my hand on my chest, exhaling. I was still recovering from the last rumble. I didn’t really want to summon my beast tonight. Not for a while. “Oh, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m not Miss Delphi, just Delphi.”
He nodded and opened a briefcase, pulling out several tinctures that he studied with a frown. “He asked me to give you this. It’s to help you recover more quickly.” He handed me a bottle. “Three droppers, no more, no less. Take it tonight and tomorrow morning.”
I stared at him, then at the bottle of dark liquid. For some reason, I wasn’t incredibly eager to trust a strange goblin. “Where is the senator?”
“The Senator has some meetings regarding a bill he and his constituents are trying to pass. He sends his apologies.”
I frowned at him. “Not to be rude, but do you have any proof that you’re not some goblin assassin?”
He smiled with sharp teeth and pulled out his phone. “She thinks I’m a goblin assassin,” he said to the screen.
