Grave Attraction by Lori Sjoberg

“I don’t know. Let me check my inventory.”
    After hiking up his sagging pants, he shuffled to a counter inside the garage. An old school cash register sat on top of the counter, with a small aquarium filled with hermit crabs in front of it. He rummaged through a drawer beneath the register for a few seconds before grabbing a dingy canvas sack.
    â€œThis is all I got,” he said as he untied the bag. “You brought cash?”
    â€œOf course.” She sounded offended by the question. “How much for how much?”
    He pulled out a large chunk of something blackish gray and placed it on the counter. “Five hundred.”
    Marlena barked out a laugh that said exactly what she thought of the price. “That’s ridiculous. I’ll give you one fifty.”
    â€œOh no, little shifter,” Freddie said with a chuckle. “Do you know how hard it is to find quality horn these days? The lowest I can go is four hundred.”
    â€œFor that much, I’ll hunt one down myself. Two twenty-five.”
    Freddie’s eyes narrowed. “Two seventy-five.”
    She stared at Freddie for a second or two before giving him a curt nod. “Deal, but only if you throw in ajar of catnip. Cassie’s almost out.”
    He smiled, flashing a hint of fang. “No problem. You want a bag for that?”
    â€œNah, just the receipt in case security busts my chops for shoplifting.” She glanced over her shoulder at Adam, a look of triumph on her face as she tossed him the chunk of demon horn. “Keep a hold of that, will you?”
    It was the size of his thumb and surprisingly light, with tiny shallow grooves running along the smooth surface. He tucked the horn into the front pocket of his jeans.
    â€œSo,” Marlena said while Freddie scribbled out a receipt. She leaned an elbow on the counter. “Who’s been buying all of your demon horn?”
    Freddie paused his scribbling long enough to glance up at Marlena, his nose scrunched up like he’d just smelled something bad. “You know I can’t tell you that. It would be bad for business.”
    â€œFreddie.” In all his days, Adam had never heard so much menace put into one single word. The temperature in the booth seemed to shoot up another ten degrees as Marlena’s face turned harder than granite. “I need to know. It’s important.”
    The vendor stopped writing, reaching back to scrub a hand against the side of his neck. “Come on, pretty shifter. You said you weren’t here to make trouble.”
    â€œI’m not. All I need is a little information so the reaper doesn’t lose his temper. Isn’t that right, slick?”
    Following her lead, Adam shot the guy his best don’t-fuck-with-me look. He had no idea what the guy thought reapers could do, but obviously, it wasn’t pleasant. “Just answer the lady’s question.”
    Freddie’s gaze went from Marlena to Adam and back to Marlena again. “Fine,” he said with a huff of resignation. “I sold a few pieces two weeks ago to a witch from Bushnell. Kind of tall. Curvy.” He made an hourglass shape with his hands. “Hold on, I’ll see if I have her name.”
    He opened a drawer and grabbed what looked like an old address book. Time seemed to drag while he riffled through the pages until he finally found what he was searching for. “Ah. Here it is. Mistress Zoe was her name. She bought three pieces. Paid cash.”
    Marlena looked disappointed but covered it quickly, giving Freddie a pat on the arm. “See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it? Let me know the next time you get a shipment of rue in. Cassie’s starting to run low.”
    As she turned to leave, she motioned for Adam to follow. He fell in line with her steps, ignoring the nearby vendor barking out a sales pitch for a home security system.
    â€œYou want to tell me what that was all about?” Adam