Stone was not in the kitchen. He was, however, in the living room, his forehead pressed against the window, his batlike wings curved umbrellas over his shoulders as he stared out at the city.
I walked over, coffee in one hand and patted his shoulder. “Nice, isn’t it?”
It was raining outside, but a rainy day in Portland felt comfortable as an old pair of slippers.
Stone clicked in agreement and continued to watch the people who walked the streets below.
My thoughts wandered to Davy. Maybe the city only looked nice on the outside. On the inside, it found an awful lot of ways to hurt people. I decided to call the hospital to see how he was doing. The nurse on duty wouldn’t give me any information, which made sense since I wasn’t related to him. She could only confirm that he was still there, still in ICU. I thanked her and hung up. I’d just have to head down there and see if I could find anything out.
But before I went anywhere else and did anything else, I needed to record the last few days in my book.
I padded, barefoot, over to my coat and pulled out my little notebook. I took it and a fresh cup of coffee back to the table and worked on writing down everything that had happened in the last few days. It took a while, even though I was fast at this. And looking back over it, all I could do was shake my head.
“I need a vacation,” I muttered. And from my notes, it was also clear I needed to call Violet and talk to her again about turning my dad’s company over to her.
Better now than never.
I dialed her number. Violet picked up on the second ring.
“Beckstrom residence,” she said.
“Hi, Violet. It’s Allie.”
“I’m glad you called,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about your offer for me to take over as CEO of Beckstrom Enterprises.”
A soft flutter brushed against the back of my eyes. Not as weak as before. Growing stronger. I had a sinking feeling in my gut that my father was recovering.
I rubbed at my eyes to try and push the flutter away. No luck.
“Great,” I said to Violet. “And what did you decide?”
“To accept.”
I exhaled with relief. I’d really been stressed about having to run my dad’s company, or handing it over into incompetent hands. “Good,” I said, trying to be nonchalant about it. “How do we make this happen?”
“Leave that to me. I’ll get everything together and let you know when and how we’ll handle the transfer.”
“When you need me, just call, okay?” I said.
“I will. And Allie?”
“Yes?”
“I tested the material.”
I had to think for a second to come up with what she was talking about. Then I remembered she had taken a sample from the ring of ash in the park.
“It is from the disks. The signature is there. But we never had these kinds of results in the laboratory. Someone has found a way to use the disks with”—she paused, thinking—“Blood magic, I’m fairly sure, and some form of magic I’ve never seen.”
My heartbeat sped up. Of course she’d never seen the other magic. Death magic was not known to the general public. “Do you think it could just be contaminated?” I asked. “I did break the spell. I might have messed it up.”
“Perhaps.” It was clear she didn’t think so. “I’m going to run a few tests in the lab to see if I can duplicate the results.”
“Well, let me know if I can help.” I hated keeping information from her, but there were too many dangerous things going on in this town. And I wanted her, and my future sibling, to stay far, far away from them.
“Thank you,” she said. “I will. And you’ve contacted a self-defense coach, yes?”
“I’ve narrowed it down,” I said. “When I pick someone, I’m sure you’ll know.”
We said our good-byes, and the flutter behind my eyes stopped. I put on my long coat, which was dry again, and a scarf and hat. It was time to go check on Davy.
“I’m going out,” I said to Stone, who still stared out the window. “Do you want out, boy?”
He looked over his shoulder, bat ears shifting back, then up into points. He clunked his head against the window again and cooed down at the street, rocking his head slowly from side to side to watch traffic go by.
“I’ll take that as a no. Then how about you stay in my room? There’s a window in there too. Lots of doors and drawers to open. Oh, and hey, you could go to sleep.”
His ears pricked up at the word
sleep
. He waddled back from the window, tipped his head up at me, and then waddled on two feet off toward the bedroom, his marble-clack sounding like he couldn’t believe it was night again already.
I chuckled. “Just while I’m gone so you don’t scare Cody and Nola,” I said.
Or Stotts
, I thought. He curled up at the bottom of the bed and I patted his round head. “With any luck, I’ll be home before them.”
I shut my bedroom door. No lock on the outside, so I left a note on the door that said
Sleeping
, and hoped for the best.
It didn’t take long to get to the hospital.
I didn’t see any of the Hounds there, didn’t see anyone who might be Davy’s parents. I talked to the nurse on duty, explained I was a close friend.
Maybe I looked worried or tired or sincere. Whatever it was, she told me his room number and pointed the way.
I paused outside his door and took a deep breath, calming myself, preparing myself for seeing him before I walked in.
It was a little darker in his room, a small window placed in just the right position to reveal a generous portion of the gray sky, city, and the hills beyond.
Davy did not move. Sleeping, maybe. His face tipped toward the window, so that I couldn’t see his eyes.
“Bring me a beer?” he wheezed, just the breath of sound.
I walked around the bed and stood in front of him. “Of course. But I had to use it to bribe the nurse to let me in.”
He rolled his eyes up to look at me. With some effort he rocked his head back so he could see me better. “Hi.”
“Hey,” I said. “I appreciate your eagerness, but you know I haven’t nailed down the details on that health insurance program for Hounds yet.”
He raised one eyebrow. He was still pale, his left eye swollen, the bruises on his face worse than the last time I’d seen him. “What’s the holdup?”
“I’ve been busy.” I glanced around the room, pulled the wooden chair next to the bed so I could sit. “Knitting, filing my nails. You know, baking bon-bons.”
That got me a ghost of a smile. “Bon-bons are ice cream, stupid. Tomi okay?”
Ouch. How should I tell him how messed up she was? “She’s okay as far as I know. I’m going to check on her later to make sure. You were right. She got into some bad shit. Bad people.” And not being someone who could let an opportunity slip by, “Did you see anyone with her in the park?”
He swallowed. “I tried. I thought I’d find her. Who she was with. In the park. She said . . . ” He swallowed again. “She said she screwed up. And she was sorry.”
“Everybody makes mistakes,” I said, surprising myself. “She has a chance to fix things. Her life. You have to let other people help her do that, Davy. Fix her life.”
He just stared at me. “I can’t,” he said. “Can’t just give up.”
“Do you remember her hurting you in the park? Do you remember her doing this to you?” I asked.
He just stared at me. Belligerent.
Sweet hells. What was I going to do with a boy who was too stupid for his own good?
I swore, as soon as I nailed down health insurance, I was going to hire a counselor for the Hounds. Talk some sense into his thick head.
“I think you need to give her room to make choices,” I said. “She’s not alone. She has all of us, all the Hounds, to help her too. Maybe you should give her some room to try other options, other people.”
He quirked one corner of his mouth up, and the fire I knew he had sparkled through the pain and pain medications. “Like you have all the answers.”
I smiled. “Damn right I do. Sometimes a change of strategy is called for, you know? Getting different people involved. And besides, Hounds do not go into dangerous situations without having backup. That includes love.”
He blinked, his eyes staying shut a little too long. “Sure. How’s that going for you?”
“What?”
“Love.”
“None of your business.”
“Thought so.” He was slurring now, and I figured I needed to let him get some sleep.
“I’ll see you soon, okay?” I reached over, rubbed the back of his hand.
He surprised me by catching my fingers, even though his eyes were still closed. “Don’t give up,” he said. “It’s worth it.”
“What is?”
“Love.” He let go of my hand. Between one breath and the next, he was asleep.
Poor kid. He just wouldn’t give up on her, no matter how much she hurt him. I wanted to shake her and make her realize she was screwing up a chance to be with someone who was a really good guy. And I wanted to tell her just to leave, break it off clean and quick so that Davy could grieve and heal and love again. So he could find someone who would be good to him. But I knew Tomi was in pretty bad shape too. I just didn’t know how permanent her wounds would be.
The wounded loving the wounded. How could that ever end happily?
I heard the footsteps outside the door before the person paused and pushed the door open. It was Sid, a cup of coffee and sandwich in one hand.
“Hey, Allie,” he said. “How’s he doing?”
“Sleeping.” I stood.
He nodded. “Looks like you got hit by a shit truck. Go home.”
“It’s suddenly clear to me why you’re not married, Sid,” I said.
He grunted, a short laugh.
“Call me if anything changes, okay?”
“No problem,” he said. “We’ve got it covered.”
I left the hospital and went home to make sure Stone wasn’t causing a riot. My luck held. Nola hadn’t come back yet. I opened my bedroom door.
Stone stood in front of my dresser, pulling one of my sweaters on over his head. He’d already put a shirt on each leg and had stacked every shoe I owned into a precarious pyramid. The room looked like a small, overly curious tornado had torn it apart.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said. “Maybe I should give you to Shamus.”
Stone crooned, only one ear and one eye sticking out of the neck hole of the sweater. I pulled the sweater off him.
“Now your foot,” I said.
I don’t think he understood what I wanted him to do, but I am nothing if not a determined woman. And besides, there was no way I was going to let him stretch all my sweaters out of shape. Once free of my clothing, he trotted down the hallway on all fours and started in on his second favorite pastime, conversations with plumbing.
Just what I needed: Stone, the Toilet Whisperer.
I let him mess with the sink while I cleaned up most of the disaster in my room. By the time I got done shoving clothes back in my drawers, I was thinking Stone would have to learn a few new phrases. Such as “Keep your grubby hands off my stuff” and “Windowsills are not for chewing on.” So much for my cleaning deposit.
There was a knock at my front door, and I closed the bathroom door on my way by, hoping Stone would stay busy with the sink.
I looked through the peephole.
Zayvion Jones stood there, wearing his ratty blue ski coat, a black beanie pulled down over his dark curls. A warmth in my chest, more than just my pleasure at seeing him, spread out.
I unlocked the door, opened it.
“Hey, stranger,” I said.
He gave me a soft smile. “Mind if I come in?” He held up a bottle of wine and a cell phone.
His eyes were a little bloodshot, and even though it looked like he had changed back into jeans and a sweater, he didn’t look like he’d gotten any sleep last night.
I stepped aside so he could come in. “You do realize it’s ten thirty in the morning?”
He glanced at the bottle in his hand. “Too early for wine?”
“Unless you like it in your cereal. Did you sleep at all last night?” I took the bottle from him. He unzipped his coat and pulled off his beanie, then scrubbed his head.
“No one did. We’ll meet again at five tonight. Thought you should know. Maeve wants you there. Not at the meeting. But in case she needs to ask you questions.” He rubbed at his face, muffling the last couple words.
“Calling someone?” I asked.
He frowned, noticed the phone in his hand. “Oh. No. This is for you. Compliments of the Authority.”
I expected it to be heavy from the silver glyphs that encased it, but it was light, compact.
“Thank you,” I said.