City of Ghosts by Stacia Kane Page B

he?
    Then again, why wouldn’t he?
    “Who do you know? I mean, you said you knew people who knew people. Do any of them have any information?”
    He hesitated. “I ain’t got names, you dig. Need to make some calls.”
    “No problem. Just, anything you could find out would be a help. Really. Bump’s got his fingers in it too, so it’s not just me you’re helping, you know?”
    Edsel looked down, dug his cell phone out of his pocket. The sun glowed off his pigmentless hair. “Gotta hang me a couple days on this one, baby. They folk ain’t the kind always answer them phones.”
    “Sure. Thanks, really. Oh, and here—” She dug her notebook and pen out of her bag, leaned forward to scribble a list. “This is a long shot, I know, but if anybody buys any of this stuff—anybody you don’t know—could you let me know? Try to find out who they are, if you can.”
    Her list wasn’t long; the Lamaru would have their own suppliers anyway. But things like corpse water or tormentil were pretty strictly regulated by the Church, and had a big enough customer base outside of it that they might chance buying it off someone. So why not Edsel?
    He took the torn-off sheet of paper, nodded. “Hold out, now. Lemme try, while you here.”
    He punched a couple of buttons on the phone, took a step back into the shadows at the back of the booth. He usually lurked there, out of the sun, looking more like a wax statue or a corpse than a man. Caught a lot of thieves that way, too.
    She took a discreet step away, distracting herself by gathering up a few things to buy. Thirty K in her bank account felt really fucking good, and she could use some things, right?
    In the center of the counter she made a little pile: one of the bags Galena made, a couple of hare bones, a little vial of goat’s blood. That might come in handy if she was dealing with black witches. Oh, and some protective items, too, she’d need those.
    In a wicker basket fairly vibrating with power, plastic-wrapped snake segments rested in among lodestones and black cat paws. She grabbed a paw and two bags of snake to add to the pile, too, and tossed a chunk of black mirror on top. She could make a hell of a hex with those, and she might need it later.
    What else … mandrake might be useful, grab a piece of that … She opened her mouth to ask how much spiderweb he had, when he held up a hand.
    “Got me a message left. Ain’t no guarantees, baby, you know, but we see what we got. You keep touchin me, aye? An I touch back iffen I hear, or sell that list somebody I ain’t know.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Aye, well. Bump getting involved this one, maybe he willin to kick in some lashers, aye? Babies got needs, you dig.”
    “Yeah, I’ll ask him, okay? I …”
    He definitely looked paler, she thought, seeing Terrible push through the crowd. Last night she hadn’t noticed it, not even at Bump’s place; all that red gave everything a low-key sort of glow. But in the sunshine she saw it. He looked a little tired, a little pale. She wondered if his wounds still hurt. She wished she could turn her greedy eyes away.
    “Might wanta get yon mouth closed, baby,” Edsel murmured.
    Chess did, snapping her teeth together so hard it hurt and wishing desperately she’d paid better attention to casting glamours in training. She could have wiped the stupid blush off her face.
    Instead she focused on the grinning skulls dancing down the wide stripes on the front of his bowling shirt. It was easy to do so, considering he stood about a foot taller than her own five feet six.
    “Edsel,” he said. “You right?”
    “Right up. Been telling Chessie here, maybe I got some knowledge be useful. You thinkin Bump might kick in, be the case?”
    “Aye, he lash you back. No problem.”
    “Cool. Chessie gonna keep touchin me, I keep her up, aye? She pass it on.”
    Terrible’s gaze fell on her. His chin jerked; it could have been a nod, she guessed.
    “Hey.” She fumbled in her bag for some