Bronze Gods (14 page)

The garden parted before them, relinquishing them to an open space at its heart. There, the stars glittered, and the crescent moon shone brighter than Aurelia had ever seen. Reflections danced in the fountain, formed from stones and overgrown with moss. Rising well past eye level, a lily pond inhabited by gold and silver fish surrounded it. Next to it stood a small gazebo built in the same unfamiliar style as the rest of his home: elegant curved arches and filigree, topped with a tapering half dome.

With a ghost of a smile lingering, he guided her toward the structure. At the entrance, Aurelia stopped, one foot on the step. The magic was heady, dizzying, and the vista offered a beauty so pure as to hurt the heart. A fierce ache welled up until she didn’t know where to look, wanting to absorb everything at once.

“Here is the soul of this place,” she whispered, tipping her head up.

“So it is.” He met her gaze, the small line between his brows bespeaking uncertainty. For a blown-glass moment, they gazed at one another. Then he shifted; at some unseen signal from him, music wafted through the tangle of plants around them. “Would you dance, Aurelia?” His words blended with the music, his offered hands dark against the ivory of his shirt.

Her breath hitched. Some of her confusion manifested in the lopsided smile she gave him, but she put her hands in his with enough conviction to offset it.

“I’d love to,” she said, low.

When he led her into the gazebo, she felt as if they had withdrawn from the world into a quiet place where only the two of them existed. She waited for his lead.

He sought her eyes, and whatever he saw made him smile. Then he led her into what might have passed for a waltz if they were elsewhere and dancing to a different melody. As the music flowed, it called for a closer hold; the slow slide and brush of hip and arm as they spun in languid motions.

She followed, anticipating his turns an instant before he made them. As they circled the floor, her head fell back. The world whirled over his shoulder, less from motion or wine; she was quite simply drunk with
him
. Inhaling deeply through her nose, Aurelia devoured him with a look while the rest of her arched and yielded, twisted and spun in steps so fleeting that she lost the thread of them, her body entirely given to his guidance.

They moved together with a single will, all but merged, until the music peaked and drifted into silence. Holding her close after a last turn, he gazed down at her, his smile long gone, replaced with hunger. Aurelia trembled, her breath coming fast, and for an infinite moment, she met his look. Her short nails curled into the nape of his neck.

If this place is his creation, if his power is strongest here, how do I know this is truly what I want?

She had no qualms about choosing a lover, but it must be her own decision. The knives of desire in her belly swelled into a red-hot poker as she tore herself away.

“I have to go. But thank you. It was a lovely evening.”

Disappointment warred with shock in his expression.
He didn’t expect me to resist. What
does
he have in mind for me, I wonder?
The attempt to fuddle her with a strong glamour only made him more interesting to her; nobody had so persistently attempted to draw her into his schemes for the longest time.

“I’ll call the coach for you. But understand that this isn’t the end for us, Aurelia.”

“No,” she said, smiling. “It’s only the beginning. Chase me if you like. Perhaps, if you remain interesting, I’ll even let you catch me.”

CHAPTER 13

T
HE NEXT MORNING,
M
IKANI MET
R
ITSUKO IN THE FOYER OF
the CID building. He had been so eager to see her that he forgot to stop for his usual coffee.
Hope Electra doesn’t think I’m dead.
They both started talking at once, until she held up a hand, demanding silence. That was so unlike her that he actually quieted.

“Mine’s better, I promise. Come with me.”

Bemused, he followed her down to the evidence room, where she asked the clerk to produce item 157. The man complied with laconic efficiency, and Ritsuko handed him a clockwork device.
It’s . . . What
is
this?
After a rudimentary examination while she bounced on her toes like a child, he turned to her, astonishment warring with mild outrage.

“You should’ve located me yesterday, Ritsuko.”

Her smile faltered. “But . . . you were following another lead; and then it was time to go home. I logged it.”

“If I’d found this, I wouldn’t have rested until you knew about it.”

“I just . . . I was only thinking about getting it here before Toombs’s mother changed her mind and decided I needed to fill out forms in triplicate. I was afraid she’d get rid of it if I hesitated and she realized just how crucial it was and the severity of the related crime.”

“I understand. But you still should’ve come looking for me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. No excuses. He could tell by her expression that she felt awful, but there was something else, too.

Though he didn’t often do this to his partner, he let slip enough to read her, echoes and impressions. He saw the moment where they spun in an awkward dance in his hallway, the night they spent drinking, when she had her hands in his hair.
That’s why? She was afraid of intruding on my off-duty hours, afraid it would be unwelcome?

“I’m
truly
sorry.”

Now that he understood, he decided to move on.
Best not to make her explain further.
“I can understand why you thought I needed a rest. It’s been grueling.”

Ritsuko nodded and turned to the clerk. “I’m taking this upstairs to show to Commander Gunwood.”

The man pushed a form toward her. “Fill this out, please, and sign the ledger.”

Mikani’s partner did so, then she beckoned for him to follow, as he was still holding the device. Mikani was glad that at least she hadn’t presented evidence without him. It should be a team effort when they told their boss they’d narrowed it down to one likely suspect, and they’d need the whole city to tighten the net, use all available resources to restrict Toombs’s movements. From this point, it shouldn’t be long.

As soon as they stepped into the duty room, Commander Gunwood bellowed, “Mikani! Ritsuko! My office. Now.”

It was early enough that there were other officers on shift, some at their desks, others preparing to head out to follow their own leads. All of them mumbled an encouraging word as they passed. Mikani pressed his partner’s shoulder gently with a free hand, then strolled into the old man’s office. His attitude was sure to draw ire, as it always did. He liked it better that way because he
really
didn’t like it when anyone went after Ritsuko. It had started when they’d first met, and he had gleaned in her what most others failed to see: spirit, courage, and a drive to do the right thing. In their three years together, the urge to defend her had deepened even as it grew fiercer. It felt like a waking beast, full of protective rage, and he couldn’t always control it.

“You’re looking well,” he said, knowing that would make things worse. The old man was rumpled, cranky, exhausted, and in all ways aggravated.

“You think this is funny, Mikani?”

Gunwood didn’t invite them to take a seat. To be called on the carpet properly, you had to stand like a child before the headmaster, waiting to feel the crack of the birch rod. Ritsuko was very still and quiet beside him; and her fear was so thick he could taste it, a sour, acrid note coating his tongue. Not fear of physical harm, more insubstantial. Based on what he knew of her, he guessed she was afraid of losing the job she loved.

“One dead girl. One
very
powerful House.” Gunwood slammed a fist onto his desk to emphasize his displeasure. “I expected you two to have this mess cleaned up five days ago. Care to explain what’s taking so long?”

Mikani was about to make a joke that would probably get him suspended, when Ritsuko said, “There is no justification, sir. But we do have some compelling new evidence if you’ll indulge me for a moment.”

“Just one.”

She nodded at Mikani, indicating he should demonstrate the device. Gunwood was already growling, “I don’t have time for toys”—when Ritsuko produced a sketch of the crime scene. Wordlessly, she laid it on the commander’s desk beside the model.

“It’s a match,” the old man said.

Ritsuko inclined her head. “Precisely. Built by Gregory Toombs, once an engineering student, now an actor, and he’s known to have taken an interest in the victim.”

“What are you doing to hunt this maniac down?”

“Everything,” Mikani answered. “Or rather, we would be if we weren’t having this charming interlude with you.”

Gunwood narrowed his eyes. “One of these days, someone will shoot you, and you won’t be wearing the right vest.”

“Please don’t kill my partner, sir. Though he can be difficult, I’m used to him . . . and it would be a bother to train someone new.”

Though her tone was light, his earlier reading lingered between them. Her true feelings washed over him, an astonishing amount of pain at the idea of harm coming to him. Mikani didn’t know what to do with that truth, so he pocketed it to be digested later. But he aimed a quiet look at Ritsuko, thinking he’d gladly cut out a few hearts on her behalf as well.

“Since you didn’t arrive empty-handed, I’ll skip the rest of the lecture. You know how crucial it is that we locate this monster.” Gunwood sighed, looking more weary than irate. “If you don’t, it’ll be your career
and
mine. Oleg Aevar has been leaning on my superiors, asking for all our heads on a pike if we don’t deliver. You have forty-eight hours to bring me a suspect in chains.”

“It’s hard to move forward when we file our requests and you sit on them,” Mikani muttered.

That still grated. They’d sent in the proper paperwork days before and heard nothing from the commander. He hated the fact that the great Houses could avoid inconvenience to the point that they were almost untouchable. It was no wonder the impoverished, persecuted magicians and sorcerers were looking for a solution. Sometimes, he wanted one himself.

“About that,” Gunwood said. “Miss Aevar’s mother has returned to the city, and she’s willing to speak with you.”

He hadn’t expected that. The woman had seemed broken the night they’d taken the report of Miss Aevar’s disappearance. Apparently the mother had a core of strength not readily apparent. In the great Houses, if there were no sons, the daughter’s husband took on the family name to keep the line going. Mikani presumed Cira’s father was deceased or gone, as there had been no mention of him.

“Her father doesn’t know,” Ritsuko guessed.

“Indeed. So you will be meeting Valerie Aevar at a café in the Temple District.” He provided the name and directions, then leaned forward and gave them a narrow-eyed look. “You are not to distress her in any way. If she returns to her father with so much as a stubbed toe, I will hold the pair of you accountable. Understood?” Mikani led the way down, still grumbling about special privileges, but they did snag his favorite cruiser.

I’ll take
that
as a good omen.

•   •   •

B
EHIND THEM,
R
ITSUKO
heard two inspectors cursing because they were too late. Her partner answered with a smirk and a salute as they slid in. When they jolted into motion, she realized it was Shelton and Cutler, the ones Mikani had beaten up on her behalf, and more than likely the ones who had asked to take over their case.

No rivalry there.

“You know where we’re going?” she asked.

He nodded. “I’ll get us there.”

“I have a lab report,” she said, digging into her attaché case. “I stopped by on my way up today.” Thinking about the tech, Mr. Higgins, made her smile. She’d enjoyed their luncheon the other day, more than she’d expected.

The tech was proving to be rather delightful, with a quiet, dry sense of humor. Her heart was in no danger, but he made her laugh, and she hoped she offered a little respite from the pain of his mother’s illness. It was nice to have someone who acted as if your company was infinitely desirable. Her grandfather would never have approved, of course, but she didn’t qualify for a prestigious marriage anymore. So she might as well seek happiness over dynastic contribution.

“Anything helpful?”

“They identified the herbs I found at the crime scene.”

“Well?” he prompted, cutting her a look as he wove around a hansom, the engine building up to a rumbling hum as they accelerated.

“Acanthus and hyacinth.”

“What does that mean? How does it help us?”

She exhaled in a sigh. “I have no idea. Maybe it will mean something to Cira’s mother. If it doesn’t, I’ll do some research when we go back to headquarters. And perhaps you can ask Saskia? It may be related to the magical angle, though only Mr. Toombs could say what he’s trying to accomplish.”

Mikani’s jaw clenched. “I want that bastard.”

She agreed completely.

There wasn’t a whole lot to say after that, so they rode in silence to the café. It was a clear evening, stars visible through the pale veil of steam thrown by passing vehicles. Her partner turned off Crown Avenue and into the Temple District, parking below one of the ubiquitous bronze statues. The bronze idols to several dozen gods adorned the plazas that connected the temples, shrines, and chapels that gave the area its name.

Valerie Aevar was already waiting. The time in the country had done her good; she no longer looked breakable. Instead, Ritsuko read a particular determination in the woman’s eyes. Since her daughter’s body had been found, she no longer had hope; instead, she burned with the need for justice, and it had hardened her.

Mrs. Aevar rose as they approached, indicating chairs opposite as if she were the hostess of a party. Even as Ritsuko smiled at the other woman’s manner, she took the indicated seat. It went without saying that she’d take the lead, and Mikani would do his thing. At this point, they didn’t need to discuss how they would proceed with a witness.

“Mrs. Aevar, it was kind of you to break from mourning to answer our questions.” She offered a smile.

“I will not say it is good to see you,” the other woman replied. “But I want you to find out who did this, and if there’s any way for me to help, well, I shall.”

Mikani signaled for coffee while she framed her first query. Her partner stirred, and she glanced over at him. “Something wrong?”

He was frowning. “No. I just feel like I’m cheating on Electra.”

“Don’t fret, you can flirt with her another day.” Ritsuko addressed her next words to the other woman. “We’ve discovered that your daughter was working at the Royale as a seamstress. Did you know?”

Guilt clouded Mrs. Aevar’s gaze. “I did. Of course I did. At first, I thought she had a lover, so I had her followed. When I saw what she was doing . . . it seemed harmless, and it made her
so
happy. After we talked about it, I started sending a coach for her at the boardinghouse where she made the costumes.”

“But her grandfather had no idea.”

Mrs. Aevar shook her head. “He wouldn’t have approved. Proper ladies do
not
work.”

“I can tell you blame yourself for what happened.” Mikani spoke for the first time, eyes closed, and his fingers playing along the edge of the coffee cup. “You shouldn’t. You wanted your daughter to be happy, and you took precautions to keep her safe. It would’ve been impossible to do more.”

Unexpectedly sensitive.

The other woman gave a long, shuddering breath. “Thank you, Inspector. It gives me some comfort to be exonerated even if I cannot yet forgive myself.”

“Was there anyone in her life? A man she held in fond regard?”

“I’m not certain. The last few weeks, Cira began to act differently. Not secretive, precisely, but she had a glow about her. When I asked, she would grow flustered and decline to speak of it.”

Toombs,
she thought. A silent glance exchanged with Mikani said he was thinking the same thing. They needed to find him.

“So there was a guard with her, most times,” Mikani said thoughtfully.

Mrs. Aevar inclined her head. “After I learned Cira had been . . .” Her voice trailed away, then she went on, “I fired him.”

“Would you happen to know where we could find him?” Ritsuko got out her notepad.

She fought anger; if the woman had told the truth that first night, the trail wouldn’t be so cold. But she’d been in denial, still hoping her daughter would come home. She might even have had the guard looking on his own, wanting to resolve the matter quietly if Miss Aevar had run off with an inappropriate man. Once hope died, the need to keep secrets faded, too.