A Curse Unbroken Page 22

“It’s not a real thing. It’s a rock, Celia,” he said slowly.

“I know, but this whole personality of his—”

“It’s a rock,” Tim repeated, growing more impatient. He turned to the house. “Just get your ass inside. I’ll have Agnes tell you everything she knows.”

On our way in, I spotted a couple of vampires dressed as Captain Hook, Papa Smurf, and Colonel Sanders. It took everything I had to keep my face neutral. A bored vampire is a naughty vampire, I supposed.

We entered the colossal estate Misha called his house and headed straight to the library. It was my favorite room in the ginormous Mountain Craftsman. Beautiful hand-carved cherry bookcases lined the back wall, and an immense fireplace at its center added to the old-world charm. But it wasn’t its elegance that drew me in. It was the memories I had there with Misha. We’d had some of our best talks here, and it was the room where he and I became friends.

As soon as we entered, Agnes glanced up from the pile of old scrolls rolled out in front of her. Her lacey black bra protruded through the white shirt of her naughty Catholic schoolgirl uniform. Unlike the other vampires I’d passed, this wasn’t a costume, but rather her choice of everyday wear.

She adjusted her tiny librarian glasses when she saw me. Her almond-shaped eyes had supernatural vision. She didn’t need the damn things. But her meals found them sexy and I supposed that was good enough for Agnes. “We think we’ve found Shah—or at the very least what country it’s in,” she said.

“Cool. And where might he be?”

“He?” she asked.

Tim laughed and motioned to me. “Our freakier-than-hell mistress here thinks Shah should be referred to as ‘he’ because of his personality, right, Celia?” He returned his focus to Agnes, laughing harder. “Can you believe that shit?”

I grinned.

And emptied a pitcher of ice water down his loose-fitting pants.

Tim jerked away from me. “What the fuck?”

“Quit being a prick,” I hissed at him. I turned back to Agnes while Tim did his best to empty his pants. “You were saying?”

She leaned back in her high-back leather seat. “First answer me this: Do the mongrels know where he is?”

I tried not to grumble. The Alliance had picked the name more for show it seemed. “They have a lead and are tracking him now.”

She smiled. “Where?”

“I’m not sure.”

Her smile widened and she exchanged glances with Tim. Like weres, vamps could sniff lies. “Where?” she asked again.

This time I couldn’t hold back my grumbling. “Malaysia.”

My news seemed to please her. She swiveled in her seat and smirked at Tim. “Told you I was right. Alert the team. We leave in an hour.”

Ordinarily, her smugness would have annoyed me. But who was I kidding? We needed to find Shah. If I had to confirm suspicions in the process, I’d do it.

Tim left like a passing breeze. If not for the squeak squeak of his boots and the chunks of ice he tossed over his shoulder, I wouldn’t have even heard him.

This time, it was my turn to smile. “Now, tell me what you know.”

Agnes adjusted her glasses, annoyed. She didn’t like being ordered around unless it was by Misha specifically. But Misha had given me the title of Mistress of the House. And that title came with power. Power over his undead. Mwahahaha.

“He’s being held by Dilip Singh, the lead geek who created the videogame based on Shah’s legend. Dilip was raised in India and frequently returns to visit family.” She clicked her tongue. “One of his last few trips was to Ajanur village—nowhere near any of his relatives, but coincidentally the same village where the Madiyan Kulom temple is located.”

“Shah’s last known home sweet home.”

“Correct,” Agnes said.

My tigress perked up. “How do you know Dilip’s the one who has him for sure? Weren’t there three other programmers who helped develop the game?”

Agnes played with one of her long thick braids. “He took eight people with him to Ajanur. Three were his fellow programmers like you said, one was his girlfriend, two were young archaeologists, and the two others were locals familiar with the area. Five have died since the profits from Shah’s videogame started rolling in.” She lifted her phone when it buzzed in a text and checked the screen. “Make that six. The first was Dilip’s girlfriend, the next were his programmers. Guess who died next?”

“The archaeologists.” Unlike Agnes, I didn’t see this as a fun game of Clue.

“You’re right,” she said, barely batting an eye. “The female died first. It took Dilip longer to find the male.” She tapped the screen of her phone. “But now he has. If the locals he hired aren’t dead yet, they soon will be.”

“What about the police?”

“What about them?” she asked.

I held out my hand. “Millions at stake. Nine people involved—eight dead—or on the to-die list. It doesn’t take much to narrow down Dilip as a suspect.”

Agnes leaned forward and glared at me like I was too stupid to breathe. “He has Shah, and therefore all the power he needs to keep suspicion off him, or send the police after the kid who pushed him off the swing in second grade if he wanted to.” She laughed without humor. “The thing is, this fool doesn’t know everything he’s in for with Shah.”

I crossed my arms. Agnes was having too much fun. “What’s Shah going to do to him, Agnes?”

“Whatever he wants now,” she sang. “Dilip’s his holder, but not his master. To think he ruled over Shah was his first mistake.”

“Just tell me what he’s going to do,” I said, growling as a result of my mounting impatience.

Agnes narrowed her eyes at my command, but told me anyway, motioning toward the stack of old scrolls. “These scriptures describe the magic worked and incidences surrounding Shah the last time he was used for personal gain. It seems he wasn’t hidden to keep others from stealing him. He was being punished for being an asshole.”

“An asshole?” I asked slowly.

“That’s right. Basically, once Shah feels he’s made a fair trade, he starts to fuck with his holder.”

Okay. This wasn’t necessarily a good thing for us. “In what way?”

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