* * * *
“Here’s what I can tell you,” Nate began, looking up from his microscope. My brother had taken business classes in college, but he was all about the science now. “The DNA is definitely from a vamp, and he’s totally dead.”
I rolled my eyes. We were out of Alvis’s murder rooms and into a set of what Rufus described as the laboratories/medical facilities. Not that vamps tended to need doctors, but as he’d explained, there were other creatures in the Under, and the primals attempted to be accommodating. In this case that meant a couple of high-tech, ultra-modern rooms where all the scientific stuff Nate had brought looked at home.
I was rapidly discovering the primals’ nest was an intricate circuit of fantasy rooms. I hadn’t seen a space yet that wasn’t the ultimate expression of what that room should be. Like the “bedroom” we’d been assigned that looked like a suite at the Ritz in Paris. I only knew what that looked like because Marcus had taken me once.
They were almost like Hollywood sets, except these were all functional spaces.
“Tell me something I don’t know, Nathan.”
We’d spent a couple of hours going over every inch of Alvis’s apartment and the hallway outside before surrendering the remains to Rufus and his group of official mourners. The service for Alvis would take place sometime before dawn, though I’d been told the mourning would last several days.
“All right.” Nate turned to the team, clapping his hands together. “I’ll tell you something I find interesting. There’s Atropa belladonna in the toxicology report on the soup.”
I hated the term, but there wasn’t a lot of other words for what a vampire who didn’t turn to dust left behind. Soup. Nate and Jamie had carefully collected as much of Alvis as they could, and they’d processed the remains. Jamie had taken a ton of photographs while Casey followed me and took notes. Trent was still out in the nest tracking scents. Fenrir had followed him while Evan had joined us in the lab, the backpack and book in tow.
“Deadly Nightshade?” Evan’s mahogany-colored hair was in a long braid, and she wore jeans and boots with a dark tunic that she’d belted. There was a knife in a holster around her waist, though I’d learned that wasn’t her preferred weapon. She was a bow and arrow girl. “That’s a poison, but it certainly wouldn’t kill a primal.”
“Belladonna?” I’d heard the term but didn’t know what kind of poison we were talking about.
“It’s a plant mostly grown in Europe,” Evan replied. “Though you can certainly find it in the States. It’s used medicinally to treat any number of human ailments. But it’s also known as a deadly poison if the berries are orally ingested, though you should know the whole plant is considered dangerous. The berries contain atropine, which can stop the heart.”
“Is it possible it’s grown down here?” I asked.
Evan shook her head. “They have gardens in the Under, but I’ve never seen them grow belladonna. The gnomes would know. They pretty much rule the gardens.”
“Dare I ask how there are gardens with no sun?” I was fairly certain I knew the answer, but it’s good to make sure.
“Magic, of course.” Evan leaned against the counter. “And Rhys. He can imbue these globes with his power, and the gnomes use them to grow the plants they need. There’s a magical sun in the gardens, but it’s for show. No UV light allowed in the Under. The primals are super sensitive to it. I know the gnomes grow food for the companions who live here, along with the Fae creatures. There are definitely some medicinal plants, but I worked in the gardens many times, and no one ever pointed out belladonna to me. I don’t think our healers use it, but I can ask.”
“It’s also historically been used as a hallucinogen,” Jamie pointed out.
Evan nodded. “Witches’ ointment. As far back as the fifteenth century, witches discovered that if they combined belladonna with fats or oils, they could topically apply it and avoid the deadly effects of oral ingestion.”
“And they would do this, why?” I asked.
“Applied in that fashion it’s a powerful hallucinogen.” Nate joined the parade of smarty pants I found myself in.
I wasn’t a smarty pants, but that’s why I surrounded myself with them. Normally the witch knowledge came from Liv, but she was busy going through some things, so I was happy Evan and my brothers were serious about keeping up with arcane knowledge. “Would it work on a vamp?”
Evan shrugged. “No idea. Nate, did you turn up any other herbs? Like henbane or mandragora?”
Nate held up the report. “Got trace amounts of both. Are you thinking a ritual or a party?”
“Could be either. Though I’m not sure why Alvis would be involved.” Evan turned my way, not requiring me to ask. “So historically witches would use the witches’ ointment combined with other herbs they either put in the mixture, or they would burn the herbs—henbane specifically—and that along with a spell would send the witch into an altered state. And by witch, I really mean anyone. It would totally work on humans, very likely Fae and werecreatures as well. The Fae are not immune to hallucinogens, and neither are wolves, though you should know Fen just mostly wants belly rubs and to eat. It was only the once, and I was smart enough to not eat the damn things. But in this case the henbane could also potentially be a way to contact the Hell plane. Since it’s a virtual call and not physical, I don’t know that the wards here in the Under would work to shut it down. I also have no idea how a vampire would react.”
“First off, the vampire wouldn’t simply down a couple of berries.” I knew quite a bit about vampire dietary habits since I’d lived with one for a while. Vampires don’t eat solid food, and they don’t drink the way the rest of us did. It’s pretty much all blood all the time for those guys. But there were ways around it. “However, if he fed off someone who had belladonna in their system, it might affect him. I know some vampires can get drunk if their feeding partner for the night has had enough liquor.”
“You’re talking about my dads.” Evan made a gagging sound. “Aren’t you?”
“I could be talking about any number of vampires.” I didn’t want to put Donovan and Quinn in an awkward position.
“She’s totally talking about your dads.” Nate did not have the same problem. “Your dad—the faery one—used to drink an entire bottle of Scotch. Like he would down that sucker in minutes and it wouldn’t affect him at all, but then Dan would feed and he would be so drunk.”
“Dude, you’re talking about her dads.” Jamie stared at our brother. “You know you’re about to be one. Do you want me to tell your daughter how you used to miss the toilet when you had a little too much?”
Nate went a nice shade of red. “Well, I mean, it’s not like they did anything weird after or anything.”