Lori Devoti - Amazon Ink

As Zery ground to a halt in front of us, I didn’t bother to further analyze the reason for his lack of overt action. I was just grateful for it.

“What are you doing?” Zery asked. The question was directed at me. She had yet to let an eyelash flicker in Reynolds’ direction.

The detective stepped forward, went through his whole “I’m a detective investigating the murders” routine. I’d heard it before, blocked it out. Besides, I was busy soaking in the betrayal in Zery’s eyes and the pure hatred in Pisto and company’s.

As Reynolds’ introduction wound down, the group of warriors around Zery grew. None of them touched a weapon, but they didn’t have to-the promise was obvious. If Reynolds felt it, he didn’t react, gave no sign that he knew the dozen or so women now surrounding him-they’d come up from behind too-wanted him, us, gone.

Done with his spiel, Reynolds crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

Zery didn’t move, and none of the warriors would until she did.

It could be a long wait. Not wanting the detective to get impatient and force an action all of us would regret, I took a step forward, into the gym. “The detective just wants to ask a few questions about the girls…who they were, where anyone saw them last, that kind of thing.” I prayed what I said was true, that he wouldn’t start digging into Amazon life.

Zery held my stare for a heartbeat. It felt like a lifetime. Then she raised her left hand, told the warriors with that one gesture to back off, scatter. They did, but they didn’t wander far. One twitch from Zery and they’d be back at her side, their weapon of choice pressed to my or Reynolds’ throat within seconds.

Reynolds unfolded his arms. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“The cafeteria,” I responded and started walking, taking the short route through the main gym. Either way, we had to walk past warriors. Might as well get it over with as quickly as possible.

While we moved ahead, Zery took a minute to speak with Pisto. The Amazon had been staring at me since I’d walked into the gym, eyeing me as if measuring me for a hole-although I doubted she was worried about accuracy of the fit, just depth.

“Interesting group,” Reynolds said as he held the door open for me. I closed my eyes and walked into the cafeteria. I didn’t want to know if any of the warriors were watching as I let him get away with what to him was probably just a show of good manners, but to them…no telling.

“We just caught them at a bad time. They’re training for a celebration.”

“With knives?” His gaze floated over the room, cataloging everything he saw there, I was sure.

“Celebration’s the wrong word. More of a demonstration,” I replied.

His eyes focused on me. “You have a hard time hitting the right word, don’t you?”

I walked over to a table and pulled out a chair. “I’d offer you coffee, but…”

“You won’t.” He sighed. “I’m doing my job, Mel.”

I shrugged, then turned so I could look out the window at the walkway between the cafeteria and my shop.

Zery arrived, saving me from getting completely pissy-at least for a few seconds before they both told me to leave. Even then, I had to swallow my ire. Arguing with either of them in front of the other might reveal more about me and my life than I cared for either to know.

After an angry stare at each, I strolled out the door. Somehow, as I walked out, a small rock got kicked into the space near the hinges, keeping the door from closing.

I was leaning against the doorjamb, straining to hear what was being said, when Peter stepped around the corner from the front of the building. He glanced from me to the window.

It was lighter outside than inside. I didn’t know if he could see Reynolds and Zery sitting at the table, and I didn’t want to step away from the door to find out-didn’t want them to see me, or Peter for that matter.

Realizing I had no other option, I moved away from the door, toward the basement steps where I was fairly sure we wouldn’t be visible from where Zery and Reynolds sat.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

He raised both brows. “Not with me.” He glanced over my shoulder, back toward the parking lot. “Looks like you have a visitor. Is he in there?” He nodded toward the cafeteria.

I stared at him, remembering our kiss and his questions about Reynolds. The air around us seemed to thicken, and I was suddenly uncomfortable in my skin, like I needed to move, get away from something. But I held firm. I wanted to know what happened between Reynolds and Zery. I wouldn’t let my conscience drive me away.

Besides, I had nothing to feel guilty about-at least not regarding Peter.

“Why’s he here, Mel?” He brushed my hair from my face.

My body, traitorous hunk of flesh that it was, edged forward. It was cool today, and my fleece wasn’t enough to keep the chill at bay. I suddenly realized how warm he would be, how nice it would feel to lean up against him.

I took a step back.

“It doesn’t involve you or the shop,” I replied, keeping my voice firm and businesslike. “Don’t you have a client?”

“No, actually, I was looking for Dana. Have you seen her?”

A band tightened around my heart. “No, how long’s she been missing?”

He frowned, real concern showing in his eyes. “I didn’t say she was missing. Just that I was looking for her.”

“She isn’t upstairs?” I couldn’t help it; panic was building. Dana had been at the bars. Zery had the other girls who had been there under watch-why hadn’t I thought to do the same for Dana?

Reynolds and Zery forgotten, I headed down the stairs, skipping as many as I hit. When I jerked open the door, what-make that who-I saw there stopped my heart cold.

Alcippe.

The old bat was standing in my basement, dressed in some flowing purple number that seemed to fluff up when she saw me-like a cat expanding its fur. Bubbe stood next to her. I could tell by my grandmother’s iron-stiff back that they’d been arguing.

That was enough for me. I entered the room ready to battle.

Bubbe held up one hand. “Stop.”

I did what she would have done, kept moving. “Get out of my house,” I said, my feet coming to a stop less than a foot away from Alcippe. Her robes billowed again, flapping over my foot with the whisper-light touch of silk.

She glanced at me, then away as if I didn’t exist-or was too inconsequential to mess with.

“Melanippe. You forget yourself and who you bring with you.” Bubbe pointed toward the door I’d entered through. Sauntering down the steps came Peter.

This Alcippe noticed. She spun to face me. “Men? Have you fallen that far? You look to men for safety?” She made a face like she wanted to spit.

My hands itched and a space behind my eyes pounded. I wanted to pummel her-with magic and my fists, show her where I looked for safety. As if anything about her brought me fear.

Peter glanced around; I could see the confusion on his face. Bubbe began to mutter, but it was too late. He wouldn’t forget what he had seen here, but luckily he hadn’t seen anything too strange-yet.

“Is Dana here?” I forced my arms to relax at my sides, to present a less aggressive image, at least from Peter’s angle. For Alcippe I didn’t bother but let every ounce of aggression I felt pour out of my eyes. “What have you done with her?”

In answer, the high priestess turned and held up one hand. “Dana, are you ready? We’ll leave now. My business is done, for now.” She angled her face to mine, let her own animosity show-didn’t try to hide it either, not even from Peter.

The door to Mother’s weight room crawled open and Dana, her eyes red and her shirt covered in paint, crept into view. I spun on one foot, my hands flying up, my only thought to stop the high priestess from doing to Dana what she’d done to me.