27	DIVINE DETAILS

AT LONG LAST, her vision for the Four Hundred Ball was almost complete. On Friday morning Finn was at the museum bright and early, taking care of a hundred little details, from picking out the silverware they would use to making sure the stage was set where the investiture would take place to what time to have the orchestra stop playing music so that the DJ could take over for the after-party. It was going to be perfect, and it was all because of her.

She felt a heady rush of excitement and dread as she saw the palm trees being planted in the courtyard. It was yet another expense, but she knew it was just the perfect thing that the party needed. Her assistants, the museum staff, and event staff were buzzing with a million questions about the timing, seating, and setup.

Finn walked around the courtyard watching as they set up the billowing white tents for the party. There was so much activity all around that she hardly paid attention to the two Venators making their way toward her.

“Yes?” she asked, when the museum assistant whispered in her ear that they wanted to talk to her. “Can I help you?” She recognized one of them as the angry girl with the short hair—her name was Ara something—and the other had to be the wolf that had joined the force, the one who had been called in from Morocco. He looked like he crawled in from the desert all right.

“Miss Chase, I’m Venator Scott and this is Venator Marrok,” the girl said, motioning to her partner.

“I know who you are,” she said coldly. “What is this about? Does Oliver know you’re here?”

“We haven’t spoken to the Regent, but we’re here on orders from the chief.”

“Sam? He sent you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Let’s talk in the office,” she said, feeling a bit nervous that two of the Coven’s hard-boiled Venators had been sent to see her. She took them inside the museum and asked the curator if she could borrow his room for a while.

She bade them have a seat.

The wolf never said a word, just looked at her with those topaz-colored eyes of his. Finn tried not to shiver. “Now what is this about?” she asked.

“Can we ask you a few questions about Ivy Druiz?”

“Ivy? What’s wrong? What’s happened?” she asked.

“She’s an artist with this exhibit?” Ara asked, consulting her notes.

“Yes,” Finn said. “I chose her especially for this exhibition.”

“And was she… how would you say she felt about being part of it?”

“Oh, she loved it. She was so excited.”

“And yet she failed to attend an important dinner last night, and she has not returned the museum’s calls about her work?” Ara asked.

“Yes, she has been hard to get ahold of. Is there something wrong? Why are you asking me these questions?”

Ara decided it was time to tell her the truth. “The body they found last night. The ID finally came in. It’s Ivy. She was bled to death, and her hand hacked off. A pentagram was painted over the body.”

“Oh my God. That’s terrible,” she said, turning pale. “Poor Ivy. What happened? Who did this to her?”

The wolf looked at her sternly. “We’ve been talking to a lot of people, and the thing is, Miss Chase, you were the last person to see her alive.”

“Her blood isn’t on file with the records. She wasn’t registered as a human familiar,” Ara said somewhat apologetically. “It looks like we’re dealing with the same renegade. Did she say anything to you? Did she mention anyone in the Coven?”

Finn thought about those two bites on Ivy’s neck and how happy Ivy had been the day they had confided their secrets to each other. She glared at the Venators, as she could feel them tentatively reaching through toward her subconscious. But Oliver had taught her how to keep her mind protected from outsiders. “No, she didn’t,” she said, the lie falling smoothly from her lips.

“Do you remember anything? Anything at all that can help us? Her body was found not far from the Nephilim hive we torched the other week. We think her death might be related. Have you ever seen one of these?” asked Ara, pushing over a dime bag with the five triangles on it.

Finn stared at it. The bags that contained Vitamin P. “No,” she said. “I’ve never seen that before.” She hoped they didn’t notice the beads of sweat beginning to form on her forehead.

“No?” Ara asked. “Take a close look at it. The corner not far from her studio was a big drug freeway. Was she addicted to anything?”

Finn shook her head. “I’m so sorry. But we didn’t know each other very well. We only ever talked about her art. If you knew Ivy, you’d know she didn’t find many other topics very interesting.”

The Venators got up to leave.

“Looks like it’s going to be a great party,” Ara said as they left the museum.

“I hope so.” Finn smiled. “We’ll see you both tomorrow night?”

“Count on it.” The wolf nodded with his deadpan stare.

When they left, Finn went to the bathroom and tossed the last of the drugs she had in the toilet and flushed them down. She shivered, feeling cold all of a sudden, as if the hand of the dead reached out and touched her for a moment. There was no way she could tell them what she knew without implicating herself, and she couldn’t let anything spoil Oliver’s big night.

Their night.