King's Gambit (21 page)

I should have asked him how he knew where Marcus lived or how he knew Marcus was staying in that particular apartment tonight. But I didn’t. I just asked for the address while simultaneously trying to hop into a pair of jeans and slide on a shirt. I was rewarded for my efforts with a literal pain in my ass that would age into a bruise over the next twenty-four hours.

“Where? When? How? Who? Speak,” I demanded from my spot on the floor. The mirror was flat on the ground, pressed against my cheek, but I had bigger concerns than a big red imprint on my face.

“165 Charles Street, just look for the burning building. Maybe fifteen minutes ago. Fire. I’m not psychic nor am I a native of this city, so I couldn’t even begin to guess who.” Have I mentioned I appreciate a professional man?

I finally shimmied on my clothes and began looking for socks. “There’s no such things as psychics.”

“A good thing for you. If there was, they may have told the king you killed Mistress Zhen.”

I froze, one neon pink sock halfway on, and stared at the glowing lines in my peripheral.

“I know you were lying; I faked the results.”

“As you might imagine, I’m kind of busy at the moment. Could we save the blackmail for another time?”

“I have no reason to blackmail you.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something eventually,” I mumbled.

“There won’t be anything left for you in that building,” he said.

“I know. Anything else?”

“Yes, um…be careful.”

I paused at the words. “I will. Thank you for telling me about this.” I tied my hair up and ran downstairs. Alex was already at the door slipping on his shoes. “What are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Um, how about no?” I said, pulling my boots on. “You are in no condition to fight.”

“I’m fine, Morgan.”

“You were stabbed. In the chest. No way.” I shook my head. “Look, I’m just going to go check out Marcus’ place. There was a fire and I want to see what’s going on.”

“There won’t be fighting, then.”

“No, but–”

“So, why can’t I go?”

We stared each other down. I puffed out my cheeks and tried to think of a plausible excuse that would make him stay home. Nothing came to mind, so I settled for giving him my most disapproving frown as I stalked to the door. Maybe it was a good thing I wasn’t head of the Maxwell family, because apparently I sucked at giving orders. He had a point, though – it
was
just a quick trip. Nothing was going to happen.

Totally, because pattern recognition is always wrong.

“Please stay home?” I tried. And failed, according to the look he gave me.

With a heavy sigh, I left the apartment with Alex. Images of the last time we went out played in my mind, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was sentencing him to death.

I didn’t see the appeal in staring at a burning building for however long it took for a fire to be put out. A few minutes, sure, but then it just got boring. The two dozen people standing around mesmerized by the flames seemed to be in on the secret, though, because they didn’t even glance my way as I pushed through them to the police line.

“You need to step back, ma’am,” a tall officer with a shiny badge said.

“Is Lieutenant Bishop here?” I asked. Ana Bishop was my connection in the NYPD. Hopefully, she was around and could fill me in.

“No, ma’am.” he said. “You really need to step back. Let the firemen do their jobs.”

“Our friends live here.” Alex placed his hands on my shoulders. “We wanted to make sure they were all right.”

The officer sighed and turned to the burning building. “The fire originated on the top floor – penthouse. So far, the firemen seem to have it under control, but they’re having trouble putting it out. What floor do your friends live on?”

“Twelfth,” I lied. No point in being kept for questioning because I knew the victim.
Potential victim
, I forced myself to remember. He could still be alive. Or not alive, because he’s a vampire.
Damn it, this isn’t the time.
“How did this happen?”

“The cause is still unknown. Until the fire is put out, we can’t investigate, and if we can’t investigate…” the officer trailed off. “The twelfth floor doesn’t appear to have been damaged much, so your friends are probably fine. Did you try calling them?”

“Yeah. They probably can’t hear us through all this, though. Thank you.” Alex steered me away, his arms tight around my waist.

I twisted around to squeeze him back. “Marcus has tons of places in the city. There’s no guarantee he was here tonight, or that Khalil was with him,” I added as the idea hit me. “Elise should be okay – she said she was going to call him, so she should be safe at home. But then why wouldn’t she have called to tell me about this? We should go see her.” With the flames, the sirens, and the crowd, I couldn’t hear myself speak, but I kept rambling. “He could be okay. They could be okay. They could–”

“You called them, right?” He kissed the top of my head and held me as we walked down the street.

I nodded. “No reply.”

“Try again?”

I had my phone out before he finished speaking. Five painstaking minutes later, I shoved it back into my pocket. No reply from any of them, including Elise. We’d wandered far enough from the hubbub that the fire was little more than a few orange pinpricks peeking out from behind the other buildings. My heart was heavy as I looked at it, numbness engulfing me. There was still a chance. There had to be.

“Elise doesn’t live too far from here,” I said. “Let’s go.”

“Elise! Dorian!” I banged on the front door. “It’s Morgan, let me in.”

“What if there’s an intruder?” asked Alex.

“It’s kind of fucked up that that’s the first thing that comes to mind.”

He smirked but reached for the gun he’d tucked away in his pants. Seriously, how did he do that? It was practically begging fate to shoot you in the ass. Guess after you survive a knife to the chest you have no problem living on the edge.

The door opened an inch, and underneath the gold chain, the tiniest sliver of grey appeared. The door shut again, the sound followed by a short click before opening up. I relaxed marginally, mollified by how cute it was that Dorian was too short to look through the peephole. He stepped aside to let us in.

I peeked into the home. “Dorian, is Elise here?”

The little boy shook his head. Instead of his usual wide-eyed stare, he was frowning and his brows were pushed together. For a second, I thought he was actually about to speak, but he just stood there looking glum.

“Did she come home at all tonight? Did she call you?”

He shook his head, paused, and then shook his head again. Alex and I exchanged worried looks as I tried to think of what to do next. Dorian held a finger up before scampering up the stairs. He reappeared minutes later, holding something against his chest. He licked his lips, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet, and peered up at us. Finally, he huffed, the sound an almost silent exhalation, and held out what he’d retrieved.

It was a tied off lock of blonde hair – Elise’s. I could use this to track her, but… “Was she in the penthouse when the fire started? Or does this mean they were somewhere else? Was she with Marcus?”

Dorian nodded at the last question with a sad look before hanging his head.

I knelt in front of him. “Don’t worry, I’ll track her with this. Alex, you stay here, okay? Who knows what I’ll be walking into.”

Alex tucked his gun away. “Are you kidding me? I’m not letting you run into danger on your own.”

“You do realize this is my job, right? I’ve been doing it
alone
for a while. Well, I had Rowan, but you may be surprised to learn how unhelpful a cat is in a fight.”

“But you don’t have to do this alone now, not while I’m here.” He crossed his arms. “Besides, you can’t actually stop me from following you.”

Would we ever stop having this conversation? “I can freeze you solid and have Dorian watch over you.” I stood up and looked down at the boy before turning back to Alex, who was channeling Grumpy Cat again. His impression was even better than Rowan’s, which was disturbing. “You are in no condition to–”

“Morgan Eden Maxwell–”

I gaped at him, my eyes wide as the moon. “How do you know my middle name? And, oh my God, how dare you middle name me?”

“Lily told me,” he said. “You’re not keeping me on the sidelines while you run into who knows what.”

“I’m not a child, Alex.” I crossed my arms, mirroring him. “I am perfectly capable of handling this by myself, and it would probably go better, because I wouldn’t be distracted worrying about you.” Couldn’t he see I just wanted to keep him safe?

“So, you want me to sit around and worry about you?”

“Worry about me from
a safe place.
” Since when did a person’s concern for someone become a problem instead of a comfort? The hurt look in his eyes was heartbreaking, and for a moment, I once again entertained the idea of grabbing his arm and just running away from all of this. But I couldn’t, no matter how selfish I wanted to be. Having a sense of duty sucked.

Alex linked our fingers together and pulled me to him. “Please, let me take care of you. Let us take care of each other.”

“That’s not fair,” I groaned. “You know I’m a sucker for big blue eyes.”

He chuckled, his breath scattering my bangs. “I didn’t actually. Not until now.”

“Duh.” I kept my tone light despite how much I wanted to break down over everything that was happening. “Marcus has blue eyes, too. Why do you think I agreed to help him?”

“I see.” Alex nodded, his eyes darkening a second. “I definitely have to go with you now – just to make sure he doesn’t get too handsy.”

“Careful what you accuse the once and possibly future king of doing.” I kissed him. “Promise me you’ll be extra careful. Please.”

“You, too.”

“Dude, I have super healing powers. I’m like Deadpool – Deadpool doesn’t play it safe.”

“…I have no idea what to say to that.”

“We’ll work on it,” I said. “After we kick some ass and save the day.”

When I pulled away, I realized Dorian was still looking at us with an expression I could only describe as polite impatience. “Can you take care of things here until I get your…Elise back?”

He gave me an emphatic nod and a double thumbs up.

To my relief, and apprehension, the glowing trail created by my tracking spell led past the now charred remains of Marcus’ penthouse and into the bad part of town. “Bad” was subjective, of course, but anywhere I had a chance to get mugged twice before making it down the block fit the label well enough for me.

Car alarms, angry cats, and disgruntled youths all cried out in muted blurs as I let the magic lead me down the dimly lit streets. A lamp flickered when we stepped under it, turning my scrambled vision pitch black, and I paused to regain my balance. The last time I tracked something over such a long period of time, I was hiking through a freezing forest and ended up getting captured by werewolves. I did
not
have a good time, and I certainly wasn’t eager for a repeat with a bunch of gangbangers and vampires.

The trail led us to an apartment that should have been condemned ten years ago; I was surprised the steps didn’t crumble to dust the moment we stepped on them. An equally decrepit hallway greeted us as we opened the chipped door, its hinges alerting everyone of our presence with a loud creak that competed only with the floorboards we walked over. The glimmering trail flickered around like a feisty snake before coiling around itself in front of a half broken door.