“Zayvion, if you don’t hold still, I will knock you back out.” Dr. Fisher had a spell caught in her left hand. I didn’t know if it really was something that would lay him low. More likely it was some sort of healing or siphon or Sight spell.
Still, she got her point across. Zay stopped trying to get up on his feet and instead did what he could to get out of his shirt, then leaned against the wall while she looked him over. Someone, probably Terric, had brought a blanket for him too, and Zay tugged it closer over his shoulders.
“Other than your ribs, anything hurt?” The doctor had already gone over his head and eyes and checked the sensation in his feet and fingers. She was quick.
“Just sore.”
“No bullets, which is what I like to see,” she said. “One of you being shot is enough.”
Zay looked over at me. I didn’t think he could get any angrier. I was wrong.
Shame strolled back into the room. “Tea. It’s black, but I didn’t see any herbal in there. Take it down a notch, mate,” he said to Zay. “You’re gonna boil paint off the walls.”
“Where’s Dane?”
“We’re looking.” He handed me the tea. “I added milk and sugar.”
I didn’t like milk or sugar in my tea. But one sip and I highly approved of his choice.
“Okay.” Dr. Fisher finished bandaging Zayvion’s ribs, pulling so tight, he grunted. She stood. “Help me get Zayvion on his feet first. Let’s get you to the couch.”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“Good. Let’s see it.”
Shame and the doctor helped Zay stand, supporting him without pressing too hard on his ribs. They let go of him, and he walked across the room to the couch and back.
“Tender, but I’ll live.”
I’d have believed him too, if he weren’t sweating so hard. Man was in a world of hurt.
“How bad is it?” I asked the doctor.
She gave me a smile. “Not as good as he wants to let on, but nothing fatal. He’s probably had worse from street fights. Still”—she shifted her focus to Zay again—“I want you to keep those ribs wrapped, and contact me immediately if you cough up blood or see blood in your urine. That goes for you too, Allie.”
I nodded. “Can I get some painkillers for when this shot wears off? I think I used magic without setting a Proxy.”
“Oh, for the love of breakfast, Beckstrom,” Shame said. “Why?”
“I was a little preoccupied trying to stay alive to worry about a headache.” I frowned. Come to think of it, I wasn’t hurting nearly enough. Either the medicine the doctor had given me was amazing, or using magic in tandem with my dad had unexpected side effects. Wouldn’t it be something if he paid the price for once?
“You should be on the Authority’s Proxy pool, Allie,” Dr. Fisher said. Then, to Shame, “Why haven’t we done that?”
He shrugged. “You know how things have been. Crazy. I’ll talk to Mum about it.”
I hated other people Proxying for me. I was plenty strong enough to pay my own price for the magic I used. I didn’t tell them that, though. I didn’t have the energy to argue right now.
“Your turn,” the doctor said. “Let’s get you on your feet.” Zay took a step toward me. Shame cut him off.
Dr. Fisher and Shame knelt and helped me stand. My arm hurt even though it was in a sling, and so did my hip, which was bandaged. My back hurt too. That was from the punch to the kidneys.
I wasn’t going to win any beauty awards, but I was a long way from being down for the count. I walked, my hip not hurting as badly as I expected, and sat on the couch. Lowering myself down hurt more than walking. I groaned a little.
Zay could be the tough guy and lean against the wall in his underwear with his cracked ribs and pretend he wasn’t hurting. I didn’t have pride.
“How do you feel?” Dr. Fisher asked.
I gave her the rundown, much more detailed than Zayvion because I wasn’t ashamed of my wounds. I knew I’d been lucky.
“How long for the sling?” I asked.
“Your arm is just a graze, and the bullet clipped your gluteus maximus. From the bleeding, I thought for sure you’d have a bullet buried in there, but you don’t. You are very, very lucky, Allie.” She paused so I could acknowledge that fact.
“Yay?” I said.
“So your arm will hurt if you move it too much. The hip will hurt most when you bend or sit. Both wounds are incredibly minor for the circumstances. You can take your arm out of the sling if you need to, but if there’s no reason to be using it, I want you to keep it as immobile as possible for at least the next three or four days. As for your hip, leave the bandages on—they’re waterproof, so showers are fine, but no baths—and come see me in a week, okay?”
The door clicked open again, and I’d be lying if I said the sound didn’t make my heart race.
It was Terric. He couldn’t have been gone more than a few minutes. I glanced at my clock. At least an hour had passed since I’d crawled out of bed. I was not tracking time well.
“We haven’t caught trace of him,” Terric said. “Victor’s calling a meeting. He wants all of you there if you can make it.”
“When?” Shame asked.
“Three o’clock. Victor’s place.”
Dr. Fisher made notes on a handheld she’d pulled out of her pocket. “I’ll need to move some appointments around, but I’ll be there.” She dug in her bag and pulled out a couple sample packets of pills. She handed me two packets and the same to Zay. “Take two in two hours, when the shot wears off. I’d like you to get some sleep before I see you at Victor’s.”
“So would I,” I said. But I was so rattled, I didn’t think I’d sleep for a week.
“Good.” She packed up and paused for a moment, studying the oil black ring of ash near the door. She shook her head. “I will be so glad when these disks are taken care of.” She stepped over the ashes and closed the door quietly behind her.
Terric locked it. The ward Zay had set there a few months ago was blown. I could smell the burnt-stone stink of its failure.
“How about we help clean this up?” He pointed at the floor.
“You don’t have to stay,” I said. “I can get it.”
Shame snorted. “Don’t be a ninny. Zay, want some tea? Food? Maybe less nakedness?”
Zay stood away from the wall, took a deep breath, but gave up on that about half a lung into it. He sighed, more of a growl, and gave me a look.
I held up one hand. “I’m sitting here. Drinking my tea.”
“Don’t let anyone in.” He walked off, slowly, toward our bedroom.
“No, I’ll check on him,” Shame said to Terric. Terric hadn’t asked a question. That was sort of odd, but then, those two had a connection ever since Terric used Life magic, Death magic, and Blood magic to accidentally implant a crystal into Shame’s chest. Even though Shame didn’t like it, it had probably saved his life on the battlefield. And now each knew where the other was at all times and, apparently, what the other was thinking.
Shame walked off after Zayvion, and Terric sat down in the chair by the couch. “How you really holding up?”
“Still not dealing with the horror of it all.” I took a gulp of tea. “I plan on ignoring it for as long as I can. Tea’s good, though. And I’m starving.”
“Did you have breakfast?”
I shook my head.
“Let me see what I can get you.” He left for the kitchen, and I closed my eyes, holding the tea tight against my chest, the warmth against my skin only making the hollow hole where my small magic used to be colder. I was still doing my best to ignore that too.
I couldn’t hear what Zay and Shame were talking about, just the murmur of their voices. Or, mostly Zay’s. Pretty soon I heard Zay growl and Shame laugh.
Terric must have found something to put on a plate. The microwave started up, and the smell of eggs and bacon wafted out of the kitchen. My mouth watered.
Not exactly the relaxing breakfast I’d hoped for, but I had a feeling those eggs were going to taste like heaven.
Chapter Two
T
erric brought breakfast out not only for me, but also made a plate for Zay and stared him down until he accepted it. I ate every last crumb of toast. Near-death events make me hungry. No, that wasn’t entirely true. Using magic—and Dad and I had pulled on a shitload of magic—always made me hungry.
Zay, still angry, didn’t say anything as he ate, but at least he sat at the table by the window and chewed his way through the meal instead of standing or pacing.
Terric gathered our dishes after we were done and washed them, which was above and beyond. Shame did what Shame does best. Lazed around shooting off his mouth and drinking coffee.
“I never did like Dane,” Shame said. “Too quiet, didn’t cheat at poker, didn’t drink. That’s what should have tipped me off. No one’s that pure-hearted in our line of business. And he smelled like . . . I don’t know. Something musty.”
“Old vitamins,” I said.
Shame snapped his fingers. “That’s it! Which means he was a health freak too. Another thing that should have tipped me off. A man without a single visible vice always has dozens stashed behind closed doors. Probably had a puppy-skinning ring on the side.”
He took a drink of coffee and frowned. “But I didn’t think the bastard would try to kill you, Allie. Or you, Zay,” he added. “Did you do something to make him mad?” Shame shifted in his chair so he could better see Zay. “I mean other than what he says he wants, maybe he’s holding a grudge? Come on, now, you can tell your mate. What’d you do, Zay? Did you steal his puppies?”
Zay looked up from his plate and gave Shame a glare that could draw blood.
“Shame,” I said, “don’t make him hurt you. I don’t need more blood on the floor.” I plucked at my sleeve, which was still damp and sticky. Then I set my empty teacup on the coffee table and stood.
“Where are you going?” Zay asked.
“To get clean and dressed.”
“Let me help.” He pushed away from the table with a grimace.
“No,” I said, “I can get dressed on my own. I’ll be right out. Try not to murder Shame.”
I went to the bathroom first and washed all the blood off my arm and ribs and thigh. There was even blood on the side of my face. I had no idea how it’d gotten there. What I probably needed was a shower, but I didn’t want to take the time unless I could soak, and I didn’t want to deal with waterproofing the bandage on my arm.
I stripped and looked over my body to make sure there weren’t any new scars I didn’t remember getting. It was a habit, a way of dealing with the new trauma, of putting it in perspective with the other traumas in my life.
No new scars. Everything was pretty much the same. The finger burns and other cuts and bruises from fighting the Veiled were fading or gone. The black mark of death was still in the middle of my left palm, black bars at each of my knuckles, wrist, and elbow, and all the ribbony magic ran up from my right fingertips to the edge of my eye. My hair was still streaked with white from going through death—literally. I had two other bullet scars in my collection—one under my left collarbone and one under my left ribs. Other than the Blood magic scar on my upper biceps and thigh, I was pretty much how I always was.
A mess.
I took a deep breath, pushing away the tears that threatened to fall.
No time for that, Beckstrom.
There was work to do, people to hunt, asses to kick. Crying could wait for another day.
I wrapped up in a clean pink towel and shut the bedroom door behind me. After I’d gotten into one of my looser pairs of jeans and a red T-shirt, both my arm and hip were aching, even through the painkillers. I slipped my arm back into the sling.
I ran a brush through my hair and stuffed my feet into my running shoes. I suspected it was going to be a busy day. Feeling mostly human, I walked back out into my living room, right into a heated conversation.
“Like hell,” Shame said.
All three men shut up as soon as I stepped into the room.
“Fighting over who gets to hunt Dane?” I asked.
Shame was slouched on my couch, his feet up on the coffee table. Terric sat at the round table by the window, a cup of coffee in his hand. Zayvion was on his feet again, leaning against the wall where the bullet had buried itself. That was so coming out of my cleaning deposit.
“Do we look like we’re going out to hunt Dane?” Shame asked.
“Yes. Whose toes are we stepping on?”
“Victor’s,” Terric said. “And Carl’s and Nik’s. They’re all out already hunting.” He directed that at Zayvion. “And if we go out, we’ll only get in their way. Which is why we should coordinate with them.”
“Why wouldn’t we coordinate with them?” I asked.
“It leaves some options open,” Shame said. “Like if we ‘accidentally’ stumble across the guy and kill him before we have the chance to call Victor in on it, we’ll get in less trouble than if we’re following Victor’s rules and reporting in every fifteen minutes.”
“They aren’t Victor’s rules,” Terric said, exasperated. “They are the Authority’s rules. When a member turns against a member, neither may be involved in the containment or examination of the people in question.”
“When did you become such a Polly Playbook?” Shame asked.
“When did you decide the rules applied to everyone except yourself?”
“I think we should get the Hounds involved,” I said over the top of Shame’s answer.
“No.” That was from Zay.
“Why not?” I asked.
“It’s too dangerous.”
“For whom?”
“The Hounds.”
“Oh, please,” I said. “Hounds know how to stay alive. I say we hire a couple, ask them to look around town for Dane and report back with what they find. We don’t have to tell them what Dane did. If all we’re wanting is reconnaissance, Hounds are the way to go. Big eyes, tight lips, empty pockets.”
“Victor won’t like it,” Terric said into his coffee.
“I’m not asking Victor.”
“You will,” Zay said.
I glared at him.
“Z, you are the mother of all wet blankets, you know that?” Shame asked.
He shrugged one shoulder but answered me. “If you can convince Victor to drag more people into this, I won’t stand in the way. I’m tired of chasing shadows through this fucking town.” He pushed away from the wall and stalked off into the bedroom.
Wow. I’d rarely heard him grumble about his job. Maybe he was hurting more than I thought.
“Is he okay?” I asked Shame and Terric.
“We were going to ask you,” Terric said.
“He’s just angry,” Shame said. “He let Dane in and almost got both of you killed. Rubs the knickers a bit.”
“He didn’t know Dane was carrying a gun,” I said.
Shame shrugged. “Don’t bring logic into this. The man’s pride has been hurt. Only revenge will soothe it up again.”
Zay stormed back out of the bedroom. He’d found his beanie and shrugged into his crappy blue jacket. Work clothes. Man planned on making trouble.
“Let’s go,” he said. Apparently, the time for arguing was over. Shame and Terric headed toward the door after him.
My house phone rang. I thought about letting the answering machine get it but decided it might be important, like a call from Violet, my dad’s last wife. She was due to deliver her baby any day now, and I’d promised I’d be there for her.
“Hold on.” I answered the phone. “Beckstrom.”
“Allie, it’s Nola,” my best friend said in her sunshiny voice.
I did a quick calculation to figure how many days it had been since I called her for our “daily” check-ins. Gave up.
“Hey, girl. Good to hear from you. What’s up?”
“You’ll never guess where I am.”
I so wasn’t up for a guessing game. “Where?”
“Here. Portland.”
My stomach hit my knees. I tried to keep my voice happy while I paced. “Wow, that’s great. Alone?”
“No, I brought Cody. I have some good news I need to tell you but don’t want to do it over the phone. Do you have time for dinner tonight?”
I didn’t want to do dinner. I wanted to hunt Dane. After that I’d have to go to the meeting at three, and I had no idea how long that would last. “How about I stop by for lunch, in maybe a couple hours?” I glanced over at Zay, and he tipped his head down, waiting. “Where are you staying?”
“I got a hotel suite for the week. And no, you’re not going to talk me out of it. Your place is too small for the three of us, and Cody seems really comfortable here.”
“Where’s here?” I tried again.
“St. Johns.”
I stopped pacing, stopped breathing. Just. Stopped.
My dad dug around in my head, stirred, and stretched, suddenly very much more aware, as if every word Nola said was infinitely interesting to him.
Yes, that worried me.
“I didn’t even know you were coming,” I finally said to fill the silence that was building beneath the stares of everyone in the room. “I mean, I could have helped you find a place.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “And don’t say nothing. I can hear it in your voice. You’re worried about something. Do you need help? Do you need me to call Paul for you?”
Oh, I most definitely did not need her to call her boyfriend the cop for me.
“No, it’s not like that. I’m dealing with a lot of things. But no big worries.”
Shame snorted, and I flipped him off as I turned toward the window to pace.
“Plus, you woke me up, so I’m not thinking straight.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I forget what a night creature you are. Should I call you back later?”
“No, that’s okay. Let’s just pick a place for lunch,” I said. “I’d love to see you.”
“How about that inn you keep talking about? The one your friend Maeve Flynn runs?”
“No.”
Too short. Too sharp. “They’re doing renovations right now,” I back-filled. What I didn’t say was that Maeve hadn’t opened it back to the public yet because we’d blown the hell out of it fighting the Veiled for control of the well of magic and for the disks locked away in the vault beneath the inn.
“There’s a good family-dining place just south of you. It’s called the Turntable. How about we meet around one?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
I took a breath, stared straight into Shame’s eyes, and lied. “I promise I am fine. Really and truly.”
Shame rocked his hand back and forth, giving me a so-so rating.
“Fine. If you don’t want to talk about it now, you know I’ll drag it out of you later.” She laughed to take the sting out of her words, and for a moment I was carried back in time, to her farm, where it was always sunny, easy, safe. Fields that reached out forever beneath the cup of blue sky, and no magic for miles around. It was the home of my heart. The safest place in the world. I loved it there, and loved her for opening her home to me for all those years.
I smiled. “Won’t you be disappointed when there’s no secret to dig out of me?”
She laughed again. “We’ll see.”
“One thing,” I said. “Why St. Johns?”
Dad shifted in my head. He wanted to know the answer to that too. Now I was sorry I’d asked.
“It’s off grid. I thought it might be the best place for Cody, you know. So nothing magic hurts him.”
And that was my big-hearted friend. Keeping a young man she was fostering safe from magic. Only she had no idea coming to any part of Portland right now put him in the line of fire. And St. Johns, particularly, seemed to be getting more magical action than any other part of the city.
Well, except anyplace near me. Which was exactly where she’d be today.
Dad shifted, pressed against my skull. He wanted forward, wanted to say something, ask her something.
No way. I leaned back on him and imagined thick walls between me and him.
I heard a knock somewhere behind Nola. “I gotta go,” she said. If she had sounded happy before, she was practically giddy now. “Paul’s here. I’ll see you at one, right?”
“Yes,” I said. “Have fun.” I hung up the phone. Stared at it, trying to figure out what I should do to keep her safe. Of course, if Paul was with her, she was in good hands. Detective Stotts was an excellent cop, and very good with magic. If something weird happened, he’d be able to handle it. Most of it.
I hoped.
“Any chance we can find Dane before lunch?”
Terric chuckled.
“Yes,” Shame said with wide, innocent eyes. “Yes, we can. And after that we’ll chase us down some leprechauns and squeeze them until gold comes out their ass.”
“Shut up, Shame,” I said. “Listen, if we put the Hounds on the hunt, we wouldn’t be spread so thin.”
We were out the door, and I locked it. Zay waited until I was done, then drew a ward on my door. Not just a flick-of-his-fingers kind of spell. This thing was drawn from the top of the doorjamb all the way to the floor and tapped into the networks with multiple links. Redundant systems that would not allow the ward to blow like it had this morning.
“Think you used a strong enough ward?” Terric asked.
“Christ, Z.” Shame laughed. “What do you think is going to try to get through that door? A bulldozer?”
Zay glared at Shame and started walking.
“You going to give me the secret password so I can get back into my own place?” I asked.
“You won’t need a password.” He zipped up his coat. “Anyone tries to break in, they won’t try twice.”
“Because they’ll be unconscious,” Terric said.
“Or dead,” Shame noted.
Zay didn’t say anything, so we all got busy with walking.
To my surprise, walking felt good. The three days in bed had done a lot to ease my pains. Even though I was sore from what had happened this morning, other than the arm in the sling and the ache in my hip, I didn’t feel all that much worse for wear. I definitely wasn’t paying the price for all that magic I’d thrown around, and I could only assume Dad had taken the price for it.
Or Offloaded it onto Dane.
Wouldn’t that be nice? I didn’t know if Dad could really do that, but I hoped Dane was curled up somewhere puking. It’d make it easier to find him.
“Anyone know how Dane got ahold of the disks?” I asked.
Shame started counting on his fingers as we headed down the next flight of stairs. “Five missing originally, right? We figure at least one of those is in Greyson’s neck. That leaves four. You said that the Hound working for James Hoskil back when your dad was killed, what was her name?”