Page 24 of Mardi Gras Murders & Midnight Masquerades
"I've been analyzing the timeline of events based on the scant information I have been able to gather about their meetings," Phi explained. "It appears as if they hold gatherings based on lunar cycles. It wasn’t easy to get this information, and I could be wrong. I had to resort to social media check-ins from known or suspected acolytes."
"That's some solid detective work," Noah commented.
"Part and parcel of being a microbiologist. We dig deep on things. Anyway, here's where it gets interesting," Phi continued. "None of the murders align with these meeting dates. They follow a completely different pattern. They all occurred during times of specific astrological significance."
"So, the killer is working on a different timeline than the Society," I summarized. “They aren’t connected at all, are they? How were we so off to assume the opposite?”
"All evidence is pointing to them not being associated.But we shouldn’t rule it out entirely. I have also been comparing the magical signatures from the crime scenes. While they share some base components with the Society's magic, there are distinct differences."
"Someone is using the Society as cover," I concluded.
"Or the Society itself is being manipulated," Phi suggested. "Either way, I don't think they're directly responsible for the killings, even if they are connected somehow."
"Keep digging," I urged. "We are heading to the Midnight Boutique to see what we can learn about these ceremonial masks and the Society. I will send the list of names we got from Vivianne. It might help."
I hung up and sent the information to Phi before we resumed our trek. It didn’t take long to get to the Midnight Boutique. It occupied a narrow storefront on Exchange Alley. Its windows displayed elaborate evening wear that shimmered with subtle enchantments. To mundane eyes, they would appear merely elegant. A supernatural could sense the magic they radiated. The stunning blue one on the left was designed to enhance the wearer's natural gifts. That was fascinating and reminded me how little of the magical world I had actually seen.
Eliza Montgomery emerged from behind a curtain of midnight-blue velvet. She was a striking woman with auburn hair and eyes so dark they appeared almost black. Her smile was calculated as she, too, recognized me.
"Danielle Smith," she greeted, her voice melodic. "What an unexpected pleasure. Madame Vivianne mentioned you might stop by."
"Word travels fast," I commented.
"It's a small community within a small city," Eliza replied with a graceful shrug. "Now, what can I help you with?"
"We're interested in learning more about the Society of the Masked," I said, deciding ondirectness.
Eliza's smile faltered slightly before returning. This time, it didn’t reach her eyes. It was like a veil dropped around her. "I see. And why would that be of interest to the Six Twisted Sisters?"
"Professional curiosity," Noah interjected smoothly. "We like to stay informed about new players in the supernatural community."
"The Society is hardly new," Eliza countered. "They've existed for generations. They're simply... becoming more public with their recruitment efforts."
"And you're among the newly recruited," I observed.
She inclined her head. "It's quite an honor. They're very selective."
"What exactly do they look for in their members?" I asked, wandering toward a display of intricate masks near the back of the shop.
"Influence. Talent. The right connections." Eliza followed me. "They value those who understand both the mundie and supernatural worlds. Especially those who can move comfortably between them."
"And what do they offer in return?" Noah asked.
"Community. Protection. Access to knowledge and techniques most practitioners would never encounter.” Eliza lifted a shoulder as if that was a minor thing. “The Society preserves ancient traditions that might otherwise be lost."
My attention caught on a mask partially hidden behind velvet draping. It was a masterpiece of gold and obsidian that seemed to draw in the light around it. Without thinking, I reached for it. "I wouldn't—" Eliza began, but her warning came too late.
My fingers brushed the mask's surface, and my psychometry activated with such force that my knees nearly buckled. The world fell away as images flooded my consciousness. There were dark chambers, robed figures, and ancient ritualsbeing performed with precise movements like Lia had described from her vision. Beneath these expected scenes lay something darker and more insidious. There was a current of magic that twisted and writhed like a living thing. I expected it to flow to those who seemed to be leading the process, but it didn’t. None of them even seemed to be aware where the power was going.
The scene shifted, and I saw the creator of the mask. All I could see were masculine looking hands that worked with inhuman precision. He imbued each curve and line. He then added enchantments, giving it a purpose that went beyond aesthetics. The vision released me abruptly, and I staggered back, Noah's hand was immediately at my elbow.
His eyes remained fixed on Eliza while he steadied me. "What did you see?" he murmured so only I could hear.
I straightened, focusing on Eliza whose expression had cooled considerably. "Those masks are more than decorative, aren't they?"
"I don't know what you mean," she stated flatly. "Each mask is commissioned for Society members."
"The craftsman," I pressed. "Who creates them?"
