Raving Moon, Lords of the Night Book One

Chapter 32: The Wrong Place, At the Wrong Time

Mr. Brewster and Ariane took off after Jamal in a burst of supernatural speed.

I focused on the spell, calling back the magic. This close to the end of my contract it was unwise to leave active magic unattended. The silhouettes faded then vanished in a puff of smoke. Feeling the slight tug in my chest, I knew I had to replenish my energy. Whether that meant giving in to the thirst or loading up on fried pickles, I wasn't sure what path I would take.

"What does this all mean?" Mrs. Brewster asked as she took a tenuous step into her dead son's room.

"It means I'm officially reopening your son's case, ma'am. I'm not going to stop until I get to the bottom of what happened here and what really happened to Ty."

Before I could react, she wrapped her arms around me and wept. I hadn't wanted or expected a thank you. I wanted to feel like I deserved the tattoo on my forearm. I wanted justice.

"Michele!" Ariane called from downstairs.

I eased out of Mrs. Brewster's embrace and left her in the room. As I descended the stairs, she worked the mattress back onto its frame. It was finally time to pick up the pieces. At the bottom, I called out for Ariane. They were in the kitchen.

She leaned against the back door, Mr. Brewster glowered by the kitchen entrance. Jamal sat at the kitchen table. His lip was bleeding and he nervously tapped his foot on the floor. The blood on Mr. Brewster's fist answered my unspoken question. I walked in and sat in the chair across from Jamal and patiently waited. For a while we all sat in silence.

"Enough of th-" Mr. Brewster fell silent as I raised my hand.

"I... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Jamal's voice wavered with unshed tears.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?" I asked.

He shook his head and fidgeted with the phone in his hand.

"Look at me. Why are you sorry."

"He wanted me to give this to someone I trusted, but... but who could I trust? You're all the same." He slid the phone across the table. "I wanted to give it to you... but how could I be sure? This, everything, has been so fucked." He never met my eyes.

I picked up the smartphone, turning it over in my hand. The battery was half-full and the locked screen image was of Ty kissing Jamal on the cheek.

"What is this, Jamal?"

"It's Ty's cellphone. He gave it to me the morning before... the morning before they killed him. He knew I sometimes worked with the thrones. He wanted me to show it to someone."

"Why?"

"It had something to do with the app he was working on. I don't remember." He wiped the blood from his lip and the tears from his eyes.

I tried to unlock the phone, but it required a passcode. I showed Jamal the screen.

"The password is my birthday."

I typed in the date and the phone unlocked.

"What am I looking for?"

"The app that says Jz-Us."

I swiped right, scrolling past Tyson's substantial collection of apps. The very last was an icon of a dog holding binoculars. I pressed the icon and five video thumbnails popped up. At the top of the screen was the word 'Watchdog" in stylized lettering. I pressed the first thumbnail and watched from a window as a pair of thrones beat an elf into submission with grossly unnecessary aggression. By the time they threw him in the back of the van, he was barely breathing. Disgusted, I watched the next.