Drink Deep - Chloe Neill [108]
“That goddamned bureaucracies are killing me this week. Catcher’s giving me trouble about setting up a meeting with Simon.”
“We could probably try Tate again, too.”
I didn’t want to do that, but I was running out of options.
I spent a few minutes giving Kelley and Malik an update, and got the text just as I’d finished: SIMON. ONE HOUR. JENKINS SUPPLY CO.
“Jenkins Supply Company?” Jonah asked when I showed him the message. “What’s that?”
“I have no clue,” I answered, tucking the phone away again. “Let’s go find out.”
Jenkins Supply Company, it turned out, was a hardware store not far from Hyde Park. Before heading in, we stood outside for a moment just taking in the building. It was a mom and pop store, with a sign above the door in old-fashioned, red cursive letters. There weren’t many cars in the lot, but the lights were still on, so we headed inside.
Like most hardware stores, it smelled like rubber and paint and wood. An older man with white hair and square glasses tidied the area near a cash register, and he nodded at us as we entered.
We offered smiles and moved past him into an aisle of cold weather gear—shovels, ice melt, gloves, and snowblowers. All the necessities of a Chicago winter.
There was no immediate sign of Simon, but there was a lingering trail of magic in the store. I motioned to Jonah, and followed it like a bloodhound.
We found Simon and Mallory together in an aisle with small tools—hammers, screwdrivers, that kind of thing. They were loading items into a basket.
Jonah and I exchanged a glance, then made our way down the aisle.
Simon looked up as we walked toward him. He wore a polo shirt and jeans, and looked completely innocuous. But there was no mistaking the concern in his expression. Was it concern about what was going on—or because he’d been caught?
Mallory also looked worse for wear; exams had clearly taken a toll. She looked tired, and her T-shirt and skinny jeans seemed baggier than usual. I always gained weight during exams—too many late night pizzas and ice cream breaks. She smiled a little at me, then crossed her arms, hiding her hands. She barely made eye contact.
My stomach balled with nerves. Maybe Simon did know something about the Maleficium—and she couldn’t get away to tell us.
“How bad is it out there?” Simon asked.
“Pretty bad,” I said. “The cleanup is going to take a while.”
“There were no fatalities, right?”
“None,” Jonah confirmed. “Minor injuries and major property damage. What are you doing here?”
“Gathering supplies,” he said, then gestured at Mallory. “Exams are pass-fail, and the Order won’t allow exams to be suspended. If we stop, she fails. But we were thinking we could use the last exam to help clean up. Move mountains, as it were.”
Curious, I peeked into Mallory’s basket. It held candles, salt, and a couple of thick construction pencils. Nothing dangerous, at least from what I could tell, and all stuff that looked pretty witchy. The kind of things you might have used to work a spell you found on the Internet.
“We think they’re following an elemental pattern,” Jonah said. “Water, air, now earth. Do you know what might be causing it?”
“I’ve been researching,” Simon said. “And I know Catcher has, too. I haven’t found anything discussing these kinds of problems.”
“What about the Order?”
Simon and Mallory shared a glance, and then Simon looked around worriedly as if he expected someone to burst through the door after him.
“The Order’s taken a hard line,” Simon said, leaning forward conspiratorially, and there was no mistaking the fear in his eyes. “They think there’s old magic involved—magic that existed before the Order was even organized. That’s not their territory, and they don’t want anything to do with it.”
Awesome. Denial was totally going to help me right now. But I pressed forward, the Order be damned. “What about the Maleficium ?”
“Don’t say that aloud,” Simon whispered. “That’s dangerous stuff. The Order would go ballistic if they even heard the word mentioned.”
“Fine,” I said. “Call it what you