“Bonnie?” I said.
“That’s the one. She had at least one she used to take Cody off Nola’s farm when you and Z were out there. So that’s two. Hell if I know where or what the other three were used for. Then the break-in at the labs let hundreds of them loose. All the ones we had locked up in the inn burned to scrap a couple days ago.”
“No one kept any of them from the wild-magic storm fight?”
We hit the landing. One flight left. “Dunno. Jingo took a hell of a lot of them when he kidnapped Sedra. We can ask Victor and Mum if they pocketed any. I was told all the disks we had were locked in the vault and your dad slagged those shucking me through space.”
“By the way,” I said, “what was that like?”
We were headed out the back now. The day was bright. Blue sky spread behind cotton white clouds. Spring was here, and the whole city could feel it.
“Hot and strange. Not really painful, just . . .” He shook his head.
“Disorienting,” Terric said. “And exhausting. Like running a marathon while standing in one place.”
Shame looked over at him, scowled. “Pretty much.”
Zay had been quiet this whole time. He stalked along just slightly ahead of me, so I saw him in profile. If he was in pain, he wasn’t showing it. The man just looked like he wanted to kill someone. Grudge much?
“So how are we doing this?” I asked.
“We haven’t asked Victor if we can hunt Dane,” Terric said. “We don’t do anything until we have his okay.”
“Give it a rest, teacher’s pet,” Shame said.
“Shame, this isn’t a joke.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Shame said. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Yes, it will,” Terric insisted. “Keeping secrets from him is the worst idea you’ve had all day. And that’s saying something.”
“I’m calling.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Victor’s number.
“Victor.”
“This is Allie. Have you found Dane?”
“No.”
“Do you have any problem with us taking a look around?”
He inhaled, exhaled. Weighing options. “Are Shamus and Terric with you?”
“Yes.”
“Put Terric on the phone, please.”
What the hell? I held the phone out for Terric. “He wants to talk to you.”
Terric frowned. “This is Terric.”
I could hear Victor’s voice but not what he said. Something about
gates
and
dangerous
and
injured
. Also something about Zay. Terric glanced up at Zay, who was standing, arms crossed over his chest, scowling toward the street. He looked like he was begging for someone to pick a fight with him. I mean, he was even giving the nice old granny pushing a baby stroller the evil eye.
“Got it. Bye.” Terric thumbed off my phone, handed it back to me.
“What’d he say?” Shame asked.
“He doesn’t want us to engage. If we find Dane, we call in for backup before confronting him. We want to get Dane alive and the disks whole.”
“Doesn’t hardly seem worth it. I was hoping for some blood.” Shame cracked his knuckles and then pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I’m driving.” He started off toward his car.
Terric stared at Zay’s back. “He told me to tell you not to take him down, Zay. Not to kill him.”
Zay took a long moment to consider that. When he turned toward us, his face was blank, unreadable, but his eyes burned gold. “Don’t need to kill him. Yet. I’ll just make him wish he were dead.”
Zay took a step, and Terric stood in front of him, blocking his way to Shame’s car.
“He told me to stop you if you got out of line.”
Zay seemed to finally notice that Terric was speaking. He tugged at his beanie and gave Terric a sideways look. “Do you really want to put yourself between me and my goals, my friend?”
“Doesn’t matter what I want. What matters is what the Authority needs. And it needs cool heads. From all of us.”
A slight smile curved Zay’s lips. “There’s a war going on, Terric. I promise you, I won’t do anything without considering the consequence.”
Terric held his gaze, then shook his head and stepped aside. “I’d hate for it to come down to us fighting it out. Again.”
Whoa. I didn’t know they’d ever fought it out before. Was that back when they used to run together? When Terric was training to be a guardian of the gate? Before Shamus nearly killed him?
They had complex history, and I hadn’t had the time to connect all the dots yet.
“You and I are on the same side,” Zay said, walking past Terric and catching my fingers with his own, urging me to walk with him. “There’s no need for us to fight.”
At the touch of his hand to mine, I could feel his anger rage through me like a hot storm. No wonder Terric was telling him to take it down a notch. Zayvion was quite possibly out of his head with fury. Yet on the outside, he just looked a bit miffed.
I didn’t bother covering my surprise and worry. When we touched, it was pretty clear to the other what we were thinking and feeling. So I set my mind on calm thoughts. If we found Dane, we’d deal with how to keep Zay from killing him. For now, we just needed to find the bastard.
My willful tranquility seemed to help a little. By the time we all piled into Shame’s car, Zay and I in the back, Terric and Shame in the front, Zayvion was maybe half a point lower on the Richter scale.
Shame pulled out into traffic. “Victor has teams out?”
“Yes,” Terric said. “St. Johns, south to Mount Tabor and north to Lake Shore.”
“Where do you think, Zay?” Shame said.
Zay narrowed his eyes, staring out the window like he could see a far distance. Shame and Terric were silent, waiting for his answer.
But what was Zay doing? Magic? It didn’t seem like it. I leaned close enough that my arm brushed his. With that brief contact, I felt like I was stretched out beneath the city, the hot points of cisterns and storage tanks of magic burning landmarks against my skin, the cool depths of the wells soothing and strong, with all the pipes and conduits and junctions mapping my nerves.
Zay had a very tactile awareness of the city. As if he carried all the streets and streams of magic on his skin like a tattoo. I’d never felt him do that before. Not even when we were trying to find Chase.
But maybe that was how he knew when gates opened in the city. Maybe this sense of the city was part of what being a guardian of the gate was really about.
Or I could be imagining things, what with the painkillers and all.
“Start on the southwest side,” Zay said. “Work our way up.”
Shame changed lanes and took the next exit to the freeway. “How far south?”
“Just the city’s edge. He’s here. Somewhere.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
He shrugged.
So not helpful.
“Can you always feel all the lines and conduits of magic in the city? ’Cause that’s news to me.” Still the silence. I touched his leg. “Zay?”
He jerked just enough that I knew he hadn’t heard a word I’d said.
“What?”
Shame threw a concerned look at me in the rearview mirror.
“Can you always feel the magic in the city? That’s what you were doing, right? Trying to get a feel for if Dane was drawing on magic anywhere?”
“No. I was just thinking.”
“Z,” Shame said, “you’re angry and unfocused. Might want to do something about one of those things.”
Zay glared at him.
“You know I’m right.”
“Fuck.” Zay took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck, then scrubbed at his face. He rested his hand on my thigh, the heat of his palm soaking into the Blood magic scar I had there.
“I’m going to close my eyes and meditate,” he said. “If I’m agitated enough Shame is telling me to pull myself together, I’m way off base.”
“Suck it, Jones,” Shame said.
Zay smiled slightly, a predator’s grin, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His hand was still on my thigh, and I put my hand over his. I didn’t want to interrupt his meditation, but I was worried. I’d never seen him lose control or be anything other than a calm, deadly, calculated man.
I did what I could to relax too. I mean, things could be worse. Yes, a magic-wielding, disk-using, gun-toting killer was out there, but at least we were looking for him instead of hanging around waiting for him to look for us. I liked being proactive when there were killers after me. Plus, the solid Veiled were locked up, and so were Chase and Greyson. The only known enemy out there was the shadow man from death—Leander—and Jingo Jingo. Okay, and any of the other members of the Authority who didn’t like the way Sedra had been running things.
But really, compared to some days, things were going pretty smoothly.
Terric reached across the dash and turned on the radio. He tuned in to a country music station.
“Get your mitts off my music.” Shame stabbed the radio, and metal poured through the car.
“And you think he can meditate to that crap?” Terric turned it back to country.
“He’ll just want to kill himself if you leave it on that dreck.” Shame switched it back to metal but turned the volume down a notch.
Screaming guitars and screaming vocals pounded through the car. The window next to me buzzed from the bass.
Terric reached for the radio again. Shame slapped his hand. “No means no.”
Terric slouched back. “Fine. Turn it down. It’s giving me a headache.”
Shame turned it down—not much, but some.
“Country?” I said.
“What?” Terric asked.
“You like country music?”
“Hate it. But not as much as Flynn does.”
Shame swore and drew a glyph in the air with his middle finger.
Terric laughed. “Like you could make me.”
I glanced over at Zay. Waves of peace radiated off of him, and I mean deep, blissful calm. Man knew how to meditate. I stifled a yawn and let my shoulders rest. My arm was starting to ache a little. I’d probably need to take a pill before we did anything drastic.
“Are we going on foot?” I asked.
“No time for that,” Shame said. “We’ll stay in the car and see if we can catch a whiff of the vitamin-swilling bastard. Doubt Victor would be pleased if we ran him down on foot and brought his head home on a stick.”
“It’d make me feel better,” Zay mumbled. He opened his eyes, took a breath, and let it out.
“Yeah,” Shame said. “Well, maybe if we’re good soldiers, Victor will let you get in on the interrogation of Dane. That’d be worth a little restraint, right?”
Zay gave a half nod. “Probably.”
“How are the ribs?” Terric asked.
“Feels like a tank ran over them. Otherwise, fine. Did Victor really tell you to stop me if I went too far?”
Terric twisted so he could look back at us. “Yes. What does that say?”
“Either Victor is tired and overreacting, or I’ve been in a very bad place.” He gave that grin again. The one that looked like he wanted to chew through bones.
“Or,” Shame said, “he knows you have every right to go ballistic on Dane’s ass. I can’t believe the bastard pulled a gun.”
“I didn’t expect it.” Zay was quiet for a while. “I let my guard down.”
“None of us thought Dane would go rogue,” Shame said.
“Now we know,” Zay said calmly. “And now we’ll take care of it.”
Zay could fake all the calm and cool he wanted to. I knew as soon as he got his hands on Dane, he’d kill him. Even if it meant going against Victor and the Authority to do it.
Chapter Three
T
he hunt did not go well. We drove around for almost two hours and didn’t do much more than keep Shame and Terric from stabbing each other over the radio channels.
Well, maybe we did some good. We knew where Dane was not, and Zay had managed to get his temper under control, although the rage lingered just below the veneer of his calm.
I’d been smart enough to bring along our painkillers, and we stopped at a drive-through coffee stand. I ordered an iced vanilla latte. Not my usual black, but I needed all the sugar I could get to deal with the headache Shame and Terric were giving me.
Filled with painkiller and caffeine, I was ready to take on the lunch with Nola.
“Hey,” I said over the top of the music—currently smooth jazz that made me want to gouge my eyes out, and with which Shame and Terric were playing chicken to see who caved and turned the channel first. “Can you drop me off at the Turntable?”
Terric switched off the radio.
Thank God.
“What?”
“I’m meeting Nola for lunch.”
“I’ll go with you,” Zay said.
I turned to tell him I didn’t need a babysitter. The flash of gold in his eyes made it pretty clear he was going whether I wanted him to or not.
“You can’t follow me everywhere. I’ll be fine with Nola.”
“I’m following you to this lunch. Dane wanted you, not me. You and your dad.”
Okay, that was true. Which I hated. I felt as though I hadn’t had a minute alone in years, and while I loved the man—really and truly did—I was hoping I’d get a chance for some girl talk.
But I could be practical. These were not normal times, not safe times. Meeting with Nola might put her in danger. It would be better for her too if he was there to look out for trouble. And Zayvion was nothing if not hyperalert right now.
“Fine,” I said. “Are you coming too, Shame?”
“No. Have a few loose ends to tie down before the meeting. How about I drop you off at Z’s car? We’ll meet up at Victor’s later.”
“That works,” Zay said.
It didn’t take long to get back to my apartment. I got out of Shame’s car and took a minute to stretch. It was warm enough that I wondered if winter was gone for good. Birds chattered in the trees lining the back lot, and the air smelled of traffic, cut grass, and beef with garlic from the gyro stand on the corner.
If I were living a normal life, I’d go for a run in the park, maybe watch the dragon boats practice for the races. Instead I watched Shame and Terric drive off, Gregorian chanting pouring so loudly from the radio, I could hear it through the closed windows.
Zay scanned the parking lot, which was empty except for us, then turned to face me. He reached out, fingers digging a little too tightly into my hips, and pulled me against him.
I wanted to slip my arm out of the sling so I could get closer to him, but that would take too long and probably involve pain. Instead, I draped my good hand around his neck and tipped my face up.
“Allie—”
I didn’t know what he was going to say. Didn’t care. I pulled his face down and kissed him. I caught his bottom lip, then nipped up, dragging my tongue into the corner of his mouth and across the edge of his upper lip until he opened for me. I made a little sound as I slid my tongue fully into his mouth, and savored the warm taste of him.
He shifted his hold, wrapping his thick arms around me, one hand catching my right hip, the other thrust up into my hair, fingers clenched. His tongue plunged into my mouth, hot, insistent, hungry, as if we hadn’t touched in years. He stroked my hip, his palm cupping the curve of my butt. Then he rumbled, almost a growl, and dragged me in so tight against the hard length of his body, I had to stretch up and arch back and back to keep kissing him. Then it was only his arms around me that kept me from losing my balance.
He was worried. Angry. Terrified he’d almost gotten me killed.
I was worried. Angry. And so damn glad he was alive and breathing.
Too hard, too desperate to begin with, the kiss slowly shifted away from fear to love. We gentled our lips, slowed each stroke of tongue until our mouths moved in languorous, pulsing rhythm. We took our time. His hand in my hair finally relaxed. He dragged fingertips down the edge of my face, tucking my hair behind my ear. Goose bumps washed over my body as he slowly straightened so I was standing, once again, on my own two feet.
I wanted more, a lot more, but we slowly inhaled together and gently pulled apart. I tucked my head against his chest, my good arm around his ribs, but not too tight. I could feel the heat of pain coming off his body, mixing a sour scent with his familiar pine. Not quite a fever, but a sure sign he wasn’t at his best right now.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I said. We both wanted to say it. We both were feeling that gratitude for life, right on the heels of a very real brush with death.
“It won’t happen again,” he said. “I was stupid to trust him.”
I nodded, my cheek brushing over the nylon of his ratty ski coat. “Me too.”
I stepped back because all I really wanted to do was take him upstairs to my apartment and curl up in bed with him.
“We’d better get to lunch,” I said. “Nola’s probably there already.”
We held hands walking to the car. I got in first. It hurt, but along with the pain meds that were numbing things, I was also getting the hang of how to bend and sit without making my hip feel like someone was stabbing a dull knife into it.
Zay slid behind the steering wheel with a grunt. Those ribs weren’t doing him any favors.
“Want me to drive?”
“I got it.” He started the car and maneuvered it out of the parking lot.
“Nola said she has Cody with her,” I said.
“Mmm.”
“Will that bother you?”
He glanced at me. “Why?”
“You’ve Closed him. Twice. Does it bother you to see what’s left of his brain?”
Okay, that came out a lot harsher than I’d intended. But it was the truth. Cody was a living casualty of the Authority’s rule of taking away people’s memories and abilities to use magic if they didn’t do what the Authority wanted them to do.
“His was a special case,” Zay said. “The first time I Closed him, he was fine. I saw him afterward, checked in on him. There was no sign of any loss of mental acuity. Then . . . I don’t know. I’ve Closed a lot of people. I’ve never had anyone come out of it so damaged. He’s a savant with magic. Rare. We thought that his unusual abilities with magic, more than what I did, caused his mind to fail.
“I Closed him very carefully. Nothing I did should have damaged him.” He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing at the pain of the twist, and changed lanes. “Makes me wonder.”
“What?”
He started to shrug, thought better of it. “If someone else got to him after me.”
A few months ago I would have told him that was ridiculous. But now, with Jingo’s betrayal and Dane’s visit at gunpoint, I wasn’t so sure Zay was wrong.
“Will it bother you to have me there?” he asked.
“Not you,” I said. “It bothers me that Cody was broken.”
But Cody’s spirit, his ghost, who seemed somehow older and wiser than the childlike Cody Nola was looking after, had told me he didn’t mind being broken. He told me the living Cody was happy the way he was. It still seemed like he’d gotten a raw deal to me.
“I know there’s no changing it,” I said. “Is there?”
“Who knows?” Zay sighed. “The way things have been going lately, I don’t know if anything follows the rules anymore.” He glanced at me. “Yes. I should be able to un-Close Cody. I don’t know how much good that will do him since he’s had a mental break.”
“He’s not a bad kid,” I said.
“No. But you didn’t know him before. You think Shamus can get out of hand. Cody was hell on a bender. No sense of caution. Got in with the mob, owed money, then art, then magic, then other favors. Found a patron who pumped enough money into his sinking ship, he didn’t get gunned down in the streets.” Zay shook his head. “Anything his mother was against, he was all for. It was a mess.”
“Sedra, right? His mom?”
“Yes. She’s the one who finally decided he was too reckless with magic, too untrustworthy with the Authority’s secrets, and needed to be Closed. After Mikhail’s death . . . nothing was ever right with her.” He turned into a parking garage and took the ticket.
No wonder she was such an ice queen. Her lover dead, her son Closed, the Authority her responsibility—she hadn’t had it easy.
“She became a much harder person. Driven to rule. No one stood in her way. Not even her own son.”
He parked and didn’t make a big show of how much it hurt for him to stand out of the car. I could tell, though. I could smell the pain on him.
I wasn’t nearly as graceful. I groaned at any little jab or bump to my arm and hip. My sling got caught on the side of the door, and I had to pull my arm out of it to get free. I made a lot of noise and swore just for good measure. Good news, my arm moved pretty well. Better news, my hip wasn’t giving me nearly as much trouble.
Zay waited while I got my arms in the right arrangement; then we walked to the street. Plenty of people out today, the city waking up and coming to life after a long, rainy winter.
But all the activity made me twitchy. I jerked at every loud noise, loud engine, loud color. The day was too bright, too sunny, and I felt naked and vulnerable out in it.
I wanted my sword or, hell, a gun. I wanted more than magic to keep me safe. I wanted bullets to fight bullets.
“You okay?” Zay mumbled. He didn’t look at me but wrapped his arm around my waist.
His calm anger did a world of good to clear my head. He walked the streets like he could take on all comers with his bare hands. Untouchable. Fearless.
Didn’t act like a guy who’d almost been shot to death.
Well, if he could do that, I could try not to duck at every bike riding by.
The Turntable was in the corner of a building filled with shops and offices. Zay opened the brass and wood door, and I stepped in, my sneakers making a thick sound on the hard green tiles. The decor was mostly wood and brass, booths in dark green, tables with mismatched cloths, and flower arrangements scattered here and there. Vinyl records and covers in frames filled the walls. It should look corporate but somehow managed to hold on to its hometown roots and seemed inviting and genuine.
The sign told us to seat ourselves. Zay chose a table, not a booth, facing the front door, with a good view of the rest of the restaurant.
The waitress—a woman with skin darker than Zayvion’s, and so pretty she should have been a model—bustled over with menus. Zay told her we’d have two more people joining us. She left and returned with four glasses of water.
I’d had just enough time to decide on the club sandwich when Nola walked in.
My best friend looked how she always looked—no, she looked better than I’d ever seen her. She smiled and waved as soon as she spotted me, her long honey hair tucked behind both ears, showing the blush on her cheek and the tan that was gotten the old-fashioned way—by working outdoors. She wore a nice pair of black slacks and a pale blue cardigan over a white T-shirt.
Cody was indeed with her. It still surprised me that he was twenty-one. Thin as a rail, he’d added good muscle to his willowy frame so he at least didn’t look like he was going to blow away in the wind anymore. As a matter of fact, his shoulders and chest were a lot wider than when I’d last seen him, and he’d grown an inch at least. He was no longer a boy; the time on the farm had given Cody a man’s body. He also looked a lot less frightened or confused than other times I’d seen him.
He followed Nola and smiled when he caught sight of me.
“Allie! It’s great to see you,” Nola said. “You too, Zay. I heard you just went through a tough medical stay recently.”
He stood—man had good manners—shook her hand, and gave her a soft smile. “I do not recommend comas. All that sleep, and I still don’t feel rested.” He shook Cody’s hand too.
I stood up too. Not to be polite. I wanted a hug.
Nola reached out for a hug and embraced me very gently. “What happened to your arm?”
Oh. I hadn’t come up with a good cover for that.
“We were sparring,” Zay said, as smooth as old whiskey. “I was showing her some flips, and I twisted her arm a little too hard.”
Nola frowned. “Have you seen a doctor?”
“Yes. And Zay’s being nice. I was stubborn and put myself in harm’s way. It wasn’t his fault.” And the good thing about all that was not one thing I said was a lie.
Cody had already sat down and drank half a glass of water. He kept looking at Zay and smiling like he wasn’t sure whether he knew him, then switching that look to me and getting a wide, goofy grin. Me, he recognized.
By the time we had all settled into our seats, Cody looked like he couldn’t contain his happiness any longer.
“I saw him,” he said to me.
“Saw who?” I switched into the closest thing I had to a mom voice—patient and interested but expecting most of the conversation to be nonsense.
“I saw the monster.”
Nola sighed. “He’s been saying that since we got to town yesterday.”
“What monster?” I asked.
Zay turned his attention to the menu, even though I knew he was listening to every word Cody said.
“My monster.” He was still smiling.
“Is he a good monster?”
“Uh-huh. I like him.”
I looked over at Nola. She shrugged. “I haven’t met the monster yet. But Cody promised he’d show him to me the next time he sees him.”
Cody nodded. “He’s a good monster. Very good.”
“Let’s not talk about the monster now. What do you want for lunch?” Nola asked.
“Anything?”
“Anything the restaurant makes.” She handed him the menu. To my surprise, he read it quietly to himself.
It was hard to put Cody in a category. He was a man with a childlike mind, but he had been much more in the past. Brilliant. An artist with magic like no other. It showed in the grace of his slender fingers, now calloused and tanned from whatever work Nola had him doing out on the farm.