Seth closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. “So the frozen monster parts the ghost saw might have been headed for the secret restaurant?”
“I guess even other monsters have to eat,” Evan managed.
The immortals and supernatural beings who allied with humans generally retained the moral guidelines they had adhered to during their lives. Those whose behavior posed a threat to others had left behind the mores of their humanity or had never been human to begin with. Seth firmly believed that the only reason most people could sleep at night is that they had no idea of the ancient and paranormal creatures who walked among them, hidden in plain sight.
“Rowan and I are still getting details, so I don’t have a location yet. It’s possible the restaurant moves around, given its nature and select clientele. But as far as I know, at least it’s not called ‘Hannibal’s,’” Teag joked.
“I guess we can be grateful for small favors,” Seth replied. “How do we stop him?”
Seth and Evan had already been studying everything they could find about Vernon. Not surprisingly, he was elusive and camera-shy. Very little first-hand information existed, except reviews for his restaurant and the registration for his shipping boats. The photos that had surfaced were poor quality, taken from a distance, and grainy. Seth expected as much. Magic often messed with cameras, and witches frequently used magic to make themselves more difficult to photograph.
Cassidy and Teag exchanged a look. “We’ve been working on that.” Cassidy took a folder from her lap and slid it across the table toward them.
“We found a couple of photos from the newspaper that weren’t out of focus,” Cassidy continued as they opened thefolder. The pictures showed a man who was probably in his late fifties, well-dressed but with a wary look in his eyes. “In both photos, he’s wearing a necklace with a charm that looks like a ship’s wheel. There’s a good chance that’s his amulet.”
“We also need to find his anchor,” Evan reminded them. “We’ve got to destroy both the amulet and the anchor to stop him.”
Seth nodded. The disciples all had objects that served to focus and strengthen their magic. “Identifying the amulet is a good starting point.”
“His legitimate restaurant gets good reviews,” Cassidy went on. “Classic low-country recipes with unique twists. I doubt he’s using monster meat with regular patrons since even with magic, he’s got to pass health inspections. That’s the kind of thing investigative reporters love to discover.”
“They might go looking for meat from unlicensed dealers or endangered species, but not yeti steaks,” Seth said.
Teag chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”
“Vernon keeps a low profile,” Cassidy continued. “He has a reputation for being standoffish and keeping his distance, even from the owners of other top restaurants.”
“That’s a crowd with plenty of prima donnas,” Teag pointed out. “It’s not a surprise Vernon isn’t warm and fuzzy. He gives very few interviews and avoids TV cameras—probably because of the magic.”
“Where does the underground restaurant come in?” Evan asked.
“That’s been harder to track,” Cassidy admitted. “There’s a whole history of chefs doing pop-up meals in homes or other locations that don’t qualify as a real restaurant or have to adhere to all the regulations. But for the patrons, the sketchy legality and risk are part of the attraction.
“If someone knows the right people, they get on the list. When the chef holds an event, they get word through private channels. It’s a very ‘need-to-know-someone’ thing. There usually isn’t a lot of prior notice, which cuts down on the risk of getting raided or having the wrong people find out,” Cassidy said.
“In the non-supernatural world, chefs enjoy cooking for a small audience and trying out some new or riskier dishes,” Teag put in. “Sometimes they get called ‘supper clubs’ so it sounds more like a personal social gathering.”
“I can see why that would appeal to some people,” Seth agreed. “They’d feel special for being in-the-know and getting to try dishes that a chef hasn’t added to their main menu. It would be a status symbol to be invited.”
“And for supernatural beings, it’s less status than safety, especially if the menu has to be…unconventional,” Teag added. “There’s trust involved between the clients and the chef, but then again, if your guest list is made up of monsters, that’s a lot of incentive not to blow their cover.”
“There have been some famous busts of supper clubs over the years. Outside of the supernatural community, the attraction is usually illegally hunted game meat, risky things like puffer fish, or using meat or products from endangered animals. It’s hard to believe some of the things people will take a chance on eating just for bragging rights,” Teag said with an expression of distaste.
Seth had done some research along those lines on his own, and it had nearly ruined his appetite for dinner.
“And his regular restaurant hasn’t had any allegations of walking on the wild side?” Evan questioned.
Cassidy shook her head. “Nothing we found in the health department reports or news searches. I doubt even magic could cover up anything too weird.”
“I didn’t find anything, either, and that was before I knew to look for monster meat,” Seth said.
“Can I just vote against eating there, even so?” Evan said, making them all chuckle.
Seth reached over to pat his arm. “I’m totally fine with that. We’ll have plenty of choices—Savannah’s a foodie haven.”
“What do you know about weather mages?” Evan asked.
“Like most magic, weather witching can take a lot of forms,” Cassidy replied. “Sometimes it’s one step up from someone getting advance warning on a change for their lumbago or sore toe. On the lowest levels, it’s being able to use magic to accurately predict the weather. On the higher levels, it’s actually influencing that weather, like calling up a storm or redirecting the path of one. A really powerful weather witch is dangerous to everyone.”