I drew my fingers along the length of the intercom, pressing every button as I went for a split second. Some made a sound as I touched them, others didn’t. Rey watched me, then lost interest in my face and turned to look at the street, his tail swishing gently. The door then buzzed and unlocked. I opened it and headed inside, smirking at Rey.

  “Oh, sure. I could’ve done that,” Rey said.

  “But you didn’t, so…”

  The inside of the building didn’t smell as bad as my old one did. All of the mailboxes seemed to be intact, too. I was about to head up the stairs, when I found the first cat. He was sitting on the stairs, watching us both; a little ginger guardian. I walked up to it, but as soon as I got too close, it hissed and swiped at me.

  “Do I need to do this again?” I asked the cat.

  “You don’t know anything about our kind, do you?” Rey asked, shaking his head.

  “Alright, fine. You deal with this.”

  Rey approached the other cat with his tail held high. He sat in front of the ginger cat and licked his own paw. The ginger cat hissed at Rey, its ears arching back, a growl in its throat. Rey paused, then lunged, slapping the other cat in the face three times in quick succession. The ginger cat retreated and went bounding up the steps at full speed.

  I waited a second. “That didn’t seem to go too smoothly,” I said.

  Rey turned his head. “Sometimes you’ve gotta bash a few skulls to get what you want, kid. A good lesson to learn. C’mon, she’s waiting.”

  I followed Rey up the stairs and to apartment 1C. The door to Bastet’s place sat at the end of a dark hall. A single ceiling lamp flickered, trying its best to shed a little light on the pastel green walls that were covered in scratch marks. There were cats here, too—lots of them. They lounged around like they owned the place; grooming, sleeping, and shedding everywhere.

  The door to apartment 1C opened before I reached it, and Bastet stepped out with a scowl on her face. I paused and watched her from where I stood. She was one of those girls blessed with a perfect light-brown complexion, and wavy black hair that did what it was told. Her eyes were dark and smoky, she was wearing ripped-up skinny jeans and a long-sleeved black top with a huge, purple, cartoon cat’s face on it. The knife in her hand looked way too sharp to be a kitchen utensil.

  “Is that… for me?” I asked, pointing at the knife.

  Bastet aimed the tip of the knife at me. “It will be if you don’t give me a good reason why you haven’t come to visit.”

  “I… got abducted by aliens?”

  Her scowl twisted into a smile. She lowered the knife, and the tension I was feeling fell away. “Were they smoking hot aliens with washboard abs and twelve-inch—”

  “Bastet!”

  “I was going to say probes. Now, come and give me a hug!”

  Smiling, I walked over to her. She was quick to wrap me up in an embrace. I heard her sniff my hair. “Why does your hair always smell so scrummy?”

  “It’s magic, remember?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  She pulled away and smiled widely. “And you brought Rey,” she squealed. “How’s my fifth favorite cat?”

  “Fifth?” Rey asked, incredulousness in his voice.

  “Don’t take it personally, Mister scruffy-kins. Why don’t you come on inside? You’ll catch your death out here.”

  “It’s not that cold.”

  “I was talking about him, not the cold.”

  She’d gestured across my shoulder with her eyebrows. I turned my head, but besides Rey and the other cats, there was no one there. Maybe the hallway was a little darker than it should’ve been, maybe the shadows were a little long, but it was empty. Still, a shiver ran up and along the length of my spine, as if an icy finger had brushed against it.

  I shuddered and stepped into Bastet’s apartment.

  Inside, music was playing, and something was cooking. The air was heavy with the smell of chopped onions. Bastet moved past me and headed into her quaint kitchen. She had a large pot on the stove, steam rising from inside.

  An entire row of little bowls filled with dry cat food lined one of the far walls. No matter where you looked, there were at least three cats chilling out. The apartment didn’t smell like cats, though.

  “Nice place,” I said, looking around.

  “Thanks, sweetness. It’s tiny, but it gets cozy on those cold nights. My babies and I are pretty happy here.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  She dropped a chopping board’s worth of minced beef into the pot and glanced over at me. “You’re looking a lot more like the man these days. What happened to you?”

  I checked myself out. “Like the man?”

  “The Order sank its fangs into you, didn’t they?”

  I shrugged. “I guess they did. It’s not that bad there.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I think so… it’s better than being on the streets.”

  “All of my little ones would disagree, but then again they’re cats. They’re much better suited for the cold, wet streets than us monkeys.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Rey said, hopping onto the counter to investigate the food cooking in Bastet’s pot. “I’d take a warm bed over cold concrete any day of the week.”

  “Oh, but you’re my spoiled little baby, aren’t you?” she asked, rubbing him under the chin. “Aren’t you?”

  Rey shut his eyes and purred. “Yes… I am…”

  “He’s so adorably cute. I’m glad you brought him to me.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  Bastet narrowed her eyes. “I can sense your wonderful mind at work… you didn’t come here to have a giggle with an old friend, did you?”

  I shook my head. “I want to ask you about something.”

  “I think I know why you’re here,” she sang, waving her knife around as she buzzed about her kitchen. It was definitely a combat knife, the kind that could leave a mighty gash in a person, and she was cooking with it.

  “Can you help me, then?”

  She stopped and looked at me, a smirk on her face. “You know I’ll always help you, precious. I have to ask you, though… do you think you’re ready to dive into my world? You might not like what you find in there. The water’s frigid, and dangerous.”

  “I’ve dealt with my share of dangers in the past.”

  “Yes, but we’re pretty dangerous. Actually, we aren’t just dangerous, or lethal, or deadly. All the killy words. Mages are insidious. They get into your head, twist your mind inside out. And then if they’re curious enough, they’ll want to cut you open to see what makes you tick—to see if they can learn anything from your cooling corpse.”

  “You make them all sound like homicidal maniacs.”

  “I was going with mad scientists,” Rey said.

  I glared at him, but said nothing.

  “Oh, I’ll just go back to being seen and not heard, shall I?”

  “Try not being seen either. The grown-ups are talking.”

  “Grown-ups,” Rey scoffed, turning around and heading for one of the bowls of cat food.

  I had no reason to jerk his chain, but it was so easy to do, I couldn’t help myself. “Alright,” I said to Bastet, “So, mages are insidious bastards who will probably try to cut me open if they get their hands on me.”

  “Oh, definitely. You, with your glowing hair? Yeah, they’ll wanna know what’s so special about that, let me tell you.”

  “That doesn’t scare me. Anyway, I don’t have another choice.” I walked over to the window and looked out at the New York City streets. “Somewhere, out there, the guy I’m looking for is making deals with mages and rallying an army of vicious maniacs to his side. I need to get ahead of this, and I need your help. Are you going to give it to me or not?”

  Bastet grinned. “Of course, sugar. The real question is, what are you going to give me in return?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I wasn’t sure what was in the pot of chili Bastet had cooked, but it was incredible. It was so good, I practically cleaned the bowl, making sure not an ounce of sauce or beef was left. I set my bowl down on the coffee table, since Bastet didn’t have a dining table we could eat at, and settled back into the sofa.

  “That was good,” I said. “Thanks.”

  “Cooking is one of my passions, didn’t you know?”

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “Have you ever cooked a dish before?”

  “I’ve never been able to cook. It’s just not something I’ve ever had the time for.”

  “Most of us have time, all of us have excuses.” She winked.

  “Yeah, maybe…” I looked over at her. “So, you know why I’m here…”

  Bastet tapped the side of her nose. “I’ve heard little whispers. The city talks, and I listen. I figured it wasn’t long before you decided to come around and talk to me.”

  “Valoel…”

  “Huh. I didn’t know his name, only that he was like you, and that he was curious about us. Some people call him the raven.”

  “Is that all it takes to get talked about around here? Curiosity?”

  “It does if you’re from wonderland.”

  “Wonderland?”

  “The place you come from, obviously. We need a name for it, don’t we? From the other side of the rifts, it’s just a mouthful.”

  “Does that mean I’ve come up in your discussions with friends?”

  “Oh, please. I don’t have mage friends anymore, only acquaintances. I learned a long time ago, mages aren’t exactly the best company to keep. They’re always after something.” She shuddered.

  “Sounds like someone I know.”

  “Yes, but I’m charming. I make it sound fun.”

  “Do you? Because it still sounds like I owe you ever time I ask for help.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Ever heard of the term you scratch my back, I scratch yours? It’s nothing personal, it’s just business. Like, I just gave you food, but I didn’t ask you for anything in return. That’s because I’m nice, and this is personal, and intimate. But if you want business, then I’ll put my business collar on and we’ll get down to it.”

  “Business collar?” I shook my head. “Never mind. Alright, I do want to talk business. I want to know more about Valoel. Anything you can tell me.”

  Bastet looked to the side and frowned. “Not now,” she hissed.

  There wasn’t anyone there, not even cats were sitting on that part of the couch. That was weird enough since they dominated just about every other inch of the apartment. “Everything okay?” I asked.

  She turned her head to me and smiled. “Of course, silly. Now, I have some information that could help you. Before you ask, no, I’m not one of the mages he’s approached, and yes, I know of some of the ones he has. I may even be able to tell you the name of at least one mage that has joined his band of merry men.”

  “What do you want in return?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “A lock of your hair, my dear Seline. And this is to repay the last favor I did for you.”

  “I thought Rey covered that?”

  She shook her head. “No, no. Rey covered the first favor I did, remember? With the stone? A lock of hair repays the makeover I gave you. Then you can owe me again.”

  “You’re worse than a loan shark!”

  “Could I be a loan cat instead?” she asked, pretending to claw at the air. “Remember, it’s just business. So, what do you say?”

  I chewed the inside of my lip. “What are you going to do with my hair?”

  “A little bit of this, a little bit of that…”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

  “Pretty sure you’re talking about stage magicians there.” I sighed. “It’s just, my hair is special… and I don’t know what giving you some of it will do to me. I’ve heard you talking about eating ghosts… are you some kind of necromancer that’s gonna do weird shit to my spirit or something?”

  Bastet stared at me, then she broke out into a fit of laughter that saw her grabbing her own belly and flipping over the back of the sofa. It was an exaggerated kind of laugh, but it was entertaining to watch; especially when she got up, looked over at me, and fell to the floor again, still laughing.

  When the laughter finally subsided, she pulled herself up over the back of the sofa and looked across at me. “Oh, honey…” she said, shaking her head. “Necromancers wish they were me.”

  “I… don’t get it.”

  She stood and walked around the back of her sofa. “See, I’m a special kind of girl. Different.”

  “But you can see ghosts, right? Weren’t you just talking to one?”

  “I can see ghosts, yes, and I can eat them too. But no, I wasn’t talking to a ghost just then—I was talking to Sharri. She likes to drop in unannounced sometimes and give me her opinions when I don’t want them.”

  It looked like she’d directed that last comment at someone to the right of her, but again, the space was empty. “Sharri?” I asked.

  “Sharri is… an invisible friend that comes from a far, far, away place. A place of storms, and lightning, and power like you couldn’t imagine. Most mages have a guardian like her.” She paused. “Yeah, alright, no one has one quite like you. I’d appreciate it if you could butt out of my conversations, please.”

  “I think I’m losing track of the conversation…”

  “You wanted to go down this rabbit hole with me. I’m trying to give you the tour, which is more than most mages will do for an other like you. As far as mages are concerned, we should study you, and you should never know about us. I could get into trouble for telling you what I know, so you’d better not go running your mouth.”

  “I won’t… why do necromancers wish they were you?”

  “Because they study death, but I’ve been touched by death. They force their way through the dark doors and into the land of oogies and boogies, but I have a key. A key I made from my own blood and bone. There’s only one other person like me in the whole world, that I know of. Anyway, I don’t want to be too specific; we probably don’t have the time anyway…”

  “I get that… but I also just realized I don’t know a lot about you. I don’t even know where you’re from.”

  “Little place called Ashwood.”

  “Ashwood isn’t a little place; it’s a city.”

  “Oh, it’s pretty fucking little when it needs to be. The amount of times I ran into people I didn’t want to meet? You wouldn’t believe it. Anyway, you want to know if I’m going to meddle with you if you give me your hair. I won’t. But I do want to understand it.”

  “It’s hair.”

  “Yeah, but it glows. Hair shouldn’t do that. So, do we have a deal?”

  I frowned. “I guess…”

  “Good. Remember, you’ll still owe me after this.”

  I shrugged. “I always owe you.”

  Bastet grinned, then she sauntered over into her kitchen and pulled a pair of scissors from a drawer. I’d never let anyone except Fate near my hair before. She’d always been the one to cut my hair whenever it got too long, and vice versa.

  Now I was sitting still, with a mage with a pair of scissors in her hand standing only a few feet from me. My entire body was tense, even though I knew Bastet wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. I waited, shut my eyes, and then I heard the snip. A shudder pulsed through me, a feeling that grew and evolved into something like a pinch of pain.

  I winced, then Bastet showed me the lock she’d cut. “There,” she said, “I was discreet where I snipped; no one should notice a thing.”

  I touched my head. Something felt a little different. I tried to ignore it. “Alright, so… Valoel, what can you tell me about him and the mages he’s been talking to?”

  Bastet walked over to her kitchen, opened a small metal pot, and deposited the lock of my hair into it. “He sets the hackles up, this Valoel,” she said.

  “What does he want?”

  She headed back to the sofa and sat down. “As far as this little kitty knows, Mister Valoel is hungry for a fight. He’s unhappy with the status quo and thinks things need to change, the endgame being him on top. Of course, this ruffles all the right feathers, and some of the wrong feathers, too. There are a lot of mages who are pretty upset with the way things are being run around here and could do with a change of leadership.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, your kind has its Orders. Each is separate from the other, each wants something different and goes about its business in a different way. Mages have their Orders, too; each of us a different stripe to the last. But there’s also a governing body that tries to keep all of these Orders in check, and that’s just no good. Strays will be strays, domestics will be domestics—you try forcing them to see eye to eye. For all of our power and wisdom, mages are fucking stupid, and petty.”

  “I need to find him, Bastet. He’s gathering an army, and now he has mages on his side. Can you tell me the name of someone working with him?”

  “You’re not planning on tracking them down, are you? Understand that mages aren’t like you. We have access to vast powers, powers I’m not sure your kind is ready for.”

  “I have to try. I can’t sit back and do nothing while this guy grows his number of supporters. I’m a little surprised you’re not jumping into the fray.”

  “Me? Oh, sweetness, no… that life is behind me. I’m afraid I’ve already done enough harm to the world for a couple of lifetimes. Maybe I’ll get back into the game in a century or so.”

  “Century? What the hell?”

  “Never mind that, honey. Now, you need a name and a deal is a deal. The one mage I know has joined Valoel and his cause is called Slade, and he’s a special kind of dickhead. He’s the kind of stray to piss on people’s cars, crap on their windows, and get into fights with the other neighborhood cats. I think he had a brother on the council. The two of them would get into scraps here and there.”

  “Do you know where he hangs out?”

  “Oh, sure. He and the mages like him haunt a strip club in Queens. The Glittered Goddess. I actually think he owns it now? We used to hang out back at the Academy, but I haven’t spoken to him in years.”