Page 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Delroy huddled in the metal chair, his gaze darting worriedly around the dimly lit cellar.

The Black Devils safe house in Brooklyn was a nondescript brownstone housing a laundromat on the ground floor. It looked perfectly normal from the outside. Few people knew the basement contained an interrogation room that could make even the most hardened criminals talk.

Judging from the sheen of sweat on Delroy’s face, he’d heard of the place.

“The dolls,” Vlad said coldly, straddling the chair opposite the bartender. “Tell us about them.”

Delroy swallowed. Blood had crusted around the wound in his hand where Delphine’s knife had impaled it. His nose was swollen and deformed, the bruise almost filling the middle of his face.

Vlad would have offered him an ice pack had he not known what a piece of trash the guy was.

“I was given two of them,” Delroy confessed, his voice trembling. “Small things, no bigger than my hand. One looked like you.” His gaze darted to Tarang. “The other like your tiger.”

Vlad’s jaw tightened. His familiar’s hackles rose where he sat next to him.

“Who gave them to you?” Delphine asked from where she leaned against the wall to the left, her arms crossed.

“I never saw his face.” Delroy’s shoulders hunched. “He wore a hood every time we met. Walked with a limp.” He hesitated. “If I had to guess, I’d say he was middle-aged.”

“Is he the same man who came to the restaurant that night three weeks ago?” Vlad said.

Delroy flinched. He licked his lips nervously. “Yes. I heard him chanting something under his breath when he gave me the dolls.”

Cortes straightened where he stood near the door. “That guy is definitely our voodoo sorcerer.”

Delroy’s gaze found Vlad, his expression pleading. “Look, I didn’t know what they were planning to do to you! I was just told to keep the dolls on me during my shift. You saw the footage! I almost died during that attack!”

“And yet here you are, alive and well,” Vlad snapped.

“’Well’ is a matter of opinion,” Cortes murmured, glancing at Delphine.

“What happened to the dolls?” Delphine’s tone could have frozen hell.

“I— One of the men who attacked the restaurant took them off me before they left.” Delroy’s panicked gaze flicked to Vlad. “It was the guy who fought you.”

Vlad’s gut twisted as he recalled the masked man with the saber. Tarang growled.

Delphine lowered her brows. “And the security feeds from the restaurant? The ones that conveniently cut out before they attacked?”

“That wasn’t me!” Delroy protested. “Someone else took care of that!”

“Who?” Vlad demanded.

“I don’t know!” Terror made Delroy’s voice crack. “But that sorcerer guy, he—he works for Santana. That’s all I know, I swear!”

Delphine pushed off the wall. “Santana Isaacs?”

Delroy blanched. “You know about him?”

“Only the name.” The super soldier crossed the room and rested her hands on the armrests of Delroy’s chair. “Tell us about Isaacs.”

Delroy leaned back as far as he could, the blood draining from his face.

“Look! I don’t know shit about the guy, I swear!” he croaked. “The only thing I can tell you is that he’s bad news!”

Delphine studied the squirming man for several tense seconds. She straightened so suddenly Delroy yelped.

“He’s telling the truth.”

Frustration churned Vlad’s insides.

Shit. It’s like every inch of progress we make immediately hits a wall!

Time was running out. He now had under thirty-six hours to find the sorcerer who’d cursed him and undo his spell.

The sound of Vlad’s cell ringing had Delroy almost jumping out of his chair.

Vlad slipped his phone out of his jacket. He stilled when he saw the number on the screen.

It was Wei Chen.

“We need to talk,” the leader of the Red Dragon told him curtly when he answered the call.

“Indeed we do.” A muscle jumped in his cheek. “I keep hearing your name everywhere these days.”

Wei Chen sighed. “It’s not what you think it is. I assume you know Jared Dickson?”

“The NYPD Lieutenant?” Vlad’s pulse quickened. “What about him?”

“He has a friend who wants to meet with you.” Wei Chen paused. “A DEA agent.”

Surprise jolted Vlad. His gaze automatically found Delphine.

She was watching him with a focused expression, like she could hear their conversation. She dipped her chin.

“When and where?” Vlad said stiffly.

Wei Chen gave him an address in Lower Manhattan. “One hour.”

She hung up.

“What is it?” Cortes asked guardedly.

“Wei Chen wants to meet.” Vlad put his phone away, his mind racing. “With us and a DEA agent.”

Cortes’s pupils flared. “She’s working with the DEA?”

Vlad frowned. “It sounds like it.”

Cortes’s expression turned troubled. “That’s not like her at all.”

Vlad had to agree. Wei Chen was a proud woman and not one to bow her head to any federal agency. Which meant something had happened that forced her hand into doing so.

“It must be the same agent Jared mentioned,” Delphine observed warily. “We should make a move if we want to get there in time for that meeting.”

Vlad turned to study Delroy. The bartender had slumped in his chair, relief etched across his face now that Delphine had stepped away from him.

“What do we do with him?” Cortes jerked his head at their prisoner.

“Leave him to my men.” Vlad’s tone hardened. “They’ll make sure he doesn’t skip town before the DEA can question him.”

Delroy’s eyes bulged. “Wait! No! You can’t?—!”

Vlad was already headed for the door, Tarang at his heels.

“Let’s go find out who this Santana Isaacs is.”

The address Wei Chen had given them was an upscale dim sum restaurant in Chinatown. Red paper lanterns cast a warm glow over the lacquered furniture and silk screens depicting dragons and phoenixes as Vlad entered the restaurant with Delphine and Cortes.

His scalp prickled.

The place was too quiet, even for a weekday afternoon.

“DEA cleared the place,” Delphine murmured as a flustered-looking hostess approached. “There are two agents in the apartment block across the road. Four in the black van outside. Three in the butcher’s next door. There are five agents and Triad bodyguards in the building with us.”

Vlad and Cortes stared.

Cortes arched an eyebrow. “You clocked all that while we were walking here from the car?”

Delphine shrugged. “It’s the way I would have set this meeting up.”

The hostess led them up the stairs to a private room.

Wei Chen sat at a round table near a window overlooking Mott Street. A man in his forties occupied the chair to her right. Though he wore an expensive suit, his bearing screamed federal agent.

“Vlad.” Wei Chen rose, something that looked a little like relief dancing across her face. She indicated the seat opposite her. “Please.” She scrutinized Cortes and Delphine. “Him I can understand tagging along. Who’s the woman?”

“My new bodyguard,” Vlad said curtly.

He settled into the chair she’d indicated, conscious of Delphine taking position slightly behind him. Cortes leaned against the brick wall to the left, Popo watchful on his shoulder.

The DEA guy introduced himself. “Agent Dan Navarro.” His shrewd gaze locked on Delphine. “I see Gideon sent his best.”

Vlad stiffened. “You know each other?” He glanced warily from Navarro to Delphine.

“Only by reputation.” The agent’s mouth curved slightly. “Though I suspect that’s about to change.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Delphine said with a crisp nod.

The subtle scent of jasmine filled the air as Wei Chen poured tea into delicate porcelain cups. “I believe we all have questions that need answering.” She passed him one and gave the other to Navarro.

Vlad picked up the cup and hesitated as he brought it to his lips.

Wei Chen sighed. “It’s not poisoned.”

“She’s right,” Delphine murmured. “Besides, she won’t make it out of here alive if it is.”

Wei Chen’s eyes shrank to slits.

“I like her,” the Triad leader grunted at Vlad.

Navarro scanned the room warily. “Is your tiger around?”

“He’s sitting next to your chair.”

Tarang manifested his presence. Wei Chen inhaled sharply.

Vlad had to give it to the DEA agent. Navarro didn’t even flinch as he met the tiger’s limpid blue stare.

“He’s big.” Navarro’s gaze found Popo. “I’ve heard stories about the parrot too.”

Popo puffed his chest out proudly. Cortes rolled his eyes.

“So, who’s going to tell us about Santana Isaacs?” Vlad said coolly, his gaze flicking between Wei Chen and Navarro.

The agent’s expression turned inscrutable. “What do you know about him?”

“Only that Wei Chen’s Kingston contacts work for him.” Vlad’s fingers whitened on his cup. “And that he’s connected to the man who cursed me.”

Wei Chen drew a sharp breath.

Navarro frowned. “That’s what made you collapse in that video? A curse?”

“Yes.”

Wei Chen recovered her composure. “That’s not exactly true. About my Kingston contacts.”