Page 135 of Love & Heart Braking

“Your statements count too,” Devereaux scanned all of us. “I have Soleil’s and Austin’s. In the next few days, I’d like to gather official documents of your experiences with the twelve. We need as many as we can to build a character profile to go with our other evidence.”

Gug jerked her thumb through the open bedroom door. “You want names? I got a ton of ’em.”

“What else do you have?” I asked. I’d been curious for a while.

“The twelve provided details so I could write the articles on their behalf. I have evidence of multiple blackmails, extortion, hundreds of petty crimes like the break-in they ordered at Yearning Hearts. Yours isn’t the first business they’ve tried to take down. In most instances, they were successful. I have at least one hundred names of people who have reason to be very angry at the twelve.”

“Give me the names. I can work through them and get what statements I can,” Devereaux said.

Lerome muttered to himself, then lifted his head. “We set the Boquits and Utatios up.” His face lit up. “We set them up. We need evidence of how they shut people down. What if we create the stage?”

I straightened. “You mean fake a call talking about taking the twelve out?”

He dipped his head. “We could record the whole thing. We could hoodwink the Utatios in the same way on the Magi-Web. I could set up a fake forum easily enough.”

Genius.

I couldn’t name a time in my life when I’d felt more hopeless than the last two days, but now excitement stirred in my gut, and I was more than half afraid of it. I’d see what else I could get from the Cinereses, get a message to Soleil, and buy the food for Devereaux’s sniff test. He’d go through the subpoena and gather statements. Lerome would watch for the next truck of Shade leaving the Cinereses’ estate and setting up the Boquits and Utatios. Gug would write her article and give names to Devereaux. Maligni would see what else he could dig up from the documentation from the Opifis’ factories.

There was so much to keep track of. “I never thought I’d say these words, but we need to get organized. Can I copy your list, Dev? I’ll write it in code.”

He handed over his notebook—which weirdly sent a thrill through me to hold—and I dug in my tote for a paper and pen.

I found a scrap of paper and jotted down the connections we’d managed to make under each of the twelve’s names in tiny pink handwriting.

I flipped the note over. Shove. Bury. Squeeze. Rip

Maligni leaned closer. “What’s that?”

“Message from my poltergeist neighbor.”

“Yes, I see that.”

My brows rose. “You speak Poltergeist?”

“They are generation threes of my line,” he answered.

True. Daemons were descendants of Vulcan’s power too. “Right. Of course.”

Maligni’s gaze slowly raised. “Do you know what this note says?”

Dang. Was it something embarrassing? Asking me and Devereaux to keep it down or something? “No idea. I’ve been meaning to get it translated. Could you tell me?”

“Shove. Bury. Squeeze. Rip.” The daemon read aloud. “The twelve killed me. I want revenge.”

30

I was sorely missing gossip o’clock. And Whine at Wine O’clock. I missed all the o’clocks.

I missed my friend.

Who else could I speak to about the huge bomb Rodney dropped? I’d had to put the story together myself, remembering the conversation he overheard between me and Soleil in the hall, then the flash of white I’d seen under the carriage at the Ventrams’ estate. That must’ve been Rodney—or one of his underlings.

I’d slipped a note under his door this morning requesting a meeting, with Maligni in tow. If Rodney had shit on the twelve, then that would be a massive help.

I stared at Soleil’s computer screen and the listed emails.

Subject: System Maintenance

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