Scarlett Undercover by Jennifer Latham

sloe-eyed stare stayed on the street. “And where are you going today?”
    “To do laundry.”
    “And then?”
    “City Hall. I’ve got a case to research while the washer runs.”
    A corner of his mouth crept up into a knowing half smile.
    “This case you’ve taken on… it’s a bit more than you expected, perhaps?”
    Dammit
, I thought.
He’s doing it again.
    But all I said was, “Nah. Not so much.”
    The unsmiling half of his mouth twitched.
    “It’s not easy, you know, being your
mu’aqqibat
. And I have a feeling it’s about to become more difficult.”
    “I never asked for a guardian angel, Mook. I don’t even believe in them.”
    He ignored that. Took a drag and looked across the street toward DiSanti’s.
    “Have you spoken with Delilah lately?” he asked.
    “Last night. At the Rubicon.”
    “She’s a good soul, Delilah, and loyal. Sometimes to a fault.”
    “Sure,” I said, doing my best to sidestep whateverpoint he was working up to. “I guess I better get this stuff in a washer.”
    I started to push open the Laundromat door.
    “Akht?”
    I stopped.
    “Yeah, Mook?”
    “Watch your back.”
    “I always do.”
    He took another drag and blew the smoke out his nose. It was as close as he’d get to a good-bye.
    I went inside. Loaded the machine. Went back out.
    Mook was gone.
    My tails were not.
    As I moved down the street, the pair of them followed me tight. They weren’t keen on being seen, but I’d already ditched them twice, and they didn’t look ready to let it happen again. I crossed the street, waited until they’d done the same, then crossed back, just to mess with them.
    Three blocks over, I turned into an alley and stepped behind a Dumpster. My blackjack was in my hand by the time Blondie caught up. She looked around, squinting toward the dead-end brick wall ahead.
    “Ladies,” I said, stepping out as Shorty joined us.The gold in their eyes reminded me of toxic sludge. “How can I help you?”
    Blondie let out something close to a snarl. Shorty looked insulted. Neither spoke.
    “Not sure?” I said. “Then maybe you can tell me who you’re working for and where you learned to do such a crap job running a tail.”
    “You little…” Shorty said. Blondie stopped her with a hand on the shoulder.
    “You get one warning,” Blondie said in a washed-out, reedy voice. “One. Go back to playing detective with your slum-rat neighbors and leave the real mysteries to us grown-ups.”
    “Is that all you were trying to do yesterday morning?” I said. “Offer me some friendly advice?”
    Shorty didn’t appreciate my rapier wit. In fact, it hacked her off so bad she came at me.
    I dropped low, batted away her fumbling swing with a forearm block. Grabbed her collar with my left hand, hooked my right elbow, and swung up and inward to smash the spot where her jaw met her neck. She dropped like a sack of hot rocks. It shocked the hell out of Blondie; I knew it from the look on her face. And it didn’t sit easy with me, either. Hurting people never did.
    “Are you two part of the Children of Iblis?” I asked, tapping the blackjack against my palm to hide the shake in my hands. Blondie glanced at it nervously.
    “
That
was a mistake,” she said.
    “Let’s try again,” I said. “Tell me what you know about the Children of Iblis.”
    Her lips curled back. Her eyes darted from the blackjack to Shorty, writhing on the ground.
    “I’m not telling
you
anything,” she spat.
    Something in her voice, in the way she held her body, let me know I’d gotten to her. My shaking stopped.
    “Then I guess we’ll have to do things the hard way,” I said. “Because I’m real good at my job, and real bad at letting things go. Sooner or later, I’ll bust up your little freak show. And when that happens, I guarantee you’re not gonna like it.”
    Her laugh was like metal scraping metal. “You’ll be dead soon, you know.”
    “We’ll all be dead soon, lady.”
    She shook her head.