The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) Brad Magnarella (ink book reader txt) 📖

His mouth straightened as he rested his forearms on his knees. “The truth is, the problem is much more complex than that. Not only because my wife is, well, a supernatural, but because there are genuinely good supernaturals in this city. The diviner I consult in Chinatown, for example. Lady Bastet. The fae. You. Don’t worry, Everson. I know that about my city. For the eradication program I’m proposing, I want to target the bad ones. The worst of the worst. The goddamned ghouls in the subway lines. The creatures making a bone yard of Central Park. Those are the ones I want gone.”

I squinted at Budge, trying to figure out his angle. He was in a mayoral race that, by all rights, his opponent should have been running away with. That Budge was even close was owed to his wife’s condition. But sympathy was only going to carry him so far. Enter the eradication program—or at least an expedited operation or two that would show dramatic results.

“All so you can announce ‘mission accomplished’ in October,” I said, “sweeping you to victory in November?”

Budge grimaced before breaking into a you-got-me smile. “I have to keep reminding myself that you’re a college professor, not one of my typical voters. Yeah,” he conceded, “you’re more or less in the ballpark. Which means I have three months to do what I announced. Not much time at all.”

I studied his imploring gaze.

“Look,” he said, “the federal government spotted me an advance, so the team I’m putting together is ace. But most of them are new to this supernatural thing. You know the ins and outs. Hell, I’ve seen you in action. You’re good. Damned good. Plus, you’ve advised the NYPD before. It’s just a matter of renewing your contract.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The man didn’t want me dead. He wanted my help. I thought about Caroline’s warning before answering. “What would your wife say?” I asked.

Budged looked toward the door and lowered his voice. “What can she say? By the time she awakens, the program will have wrapped up. I’ll be in my second term, and I’ll have you in part to thank. We both will.”

“You sure about that?”

He nodded, his eyes moving back and forth over mine. In exchange for helping him, he was offering a kind of amnesty. No more looking over my shoulder to see whether Penny’s pack was stalking me.

“Are any wolves going to be involved?”

“God, no,” Budge replied, keeping his voice low. “Just NYPD officers and specialists.”

“Detective Vega,” I said.

Budge’s brow furrowed in question. “What about her?”

I was considering what Caroline had said about how the information Vega and I wielded over the mayor and his wife would no longer be a deterrent. “I want the same deal for her.”

Budge’s face smoothed. “Already done.”

“And there has to be discretion. I don’t want every New Yorker and their grandmother knowing what I can do.”

“Hey, mum’s the word.” His eyebrows rose above his glasses. “So?”

Even with my throbbing headache, the calculation was a simple one. Whether or not Budge could control his wife were she to awaken, I would be safer inside the eradication program than outside of it.

“I’ll have to clear it with my higher ups,” I said. “But as far as I’m concerned, yeah, I’m on board.”

Budge’s face lit up as he slapped my knee.

“Attaboy!”

8

I plodded up the final steps of my apartment building, cane and necklace back in my possession, casting prism restored, and reviewed the deal I’d made with Budge. If nothing else, it offered Vega and me another layer of protection. The only question was how robust that protection would be. I didn’t know how much control Budge wielded over Penny’s pack.

I unlocked the three door bolts and prioritized my next moves. First, heal up. Second, contact the Order about my participating in the eradication program. And third, start figuring out why the wolves had murdered Lady Bastet. That would tell me what kind of danger Vega and I might be in.

The apartment was dark when I entered. I was reaching for the light switch when, from the direction of Tabitha’s divan, came a strangled moan. I stopped and yanked my sword from my cane, the bloody image of the decapitated cats searing through my mind’s eye.

“Tabitha?” I called.

A pair of eyes flashed from the divan—but not the ochre-green of my cat’s. These were yellow.

“Protezione!” I called.

Sparks burst from my orb as it manifested a shield of white light. In the sudden glow, the being on Tabitha’s divan took shape. Not a wolf, though. A squat man in a corduroy sports jacket with elbow patches was sitting there, the pointed toes of his green leather shoes just touching the floor. Beneath a mop of gray hair, the man’s eyes squinted back at me.

“Chicory?” I said.

The last time I’d seen my mentor had been ten months earlier, when he’d rescued me from a group of druids in Central Park and then forbade me from pursuing the demon cases. I dissolved my shield with another Word and hit the flood lights. Chicory lowered his hand from his brow.

“At ease,” he said in his Irish brogue.

Tabitha was on his far side, purring and moaning as Chicory scratched the hair around her ears. They had always gotten along well, despite my mentor’s disapproval of her succubus nature.

I sheathed my sword. “You scared all hell out of me.”

“Ah, yes, I let myself in,” Chicory said. “I hope you don’t mind. I’d almost forgotten about your companion. She’s quite a beautiful thing, isn’t she? Though a little starved for attention, I should say.”

I watched Tabitha moan and twist her neck as Chicory scratched around it.

“Not anymore,” I muttered, walking toward them.

I searched my mentor’s face, with its bushy brows, squash-shaped nose, and curmudgeon’s lips, for some indication of why he’d come. His visits rarely heralded good things.

“So, what’s up?” I asked.

Chicory gave Tabitha’s head a final pat. “There you are, love.” He wiped his hands together and stood