Authors: Devon Monk
Sid had his tablet out and was plugging in data. “Give me a sec. I’ll see what I can find.”
The shower turned off. I leaned back in my chair and gave Zayvion a small smile. We’d see who this Karl turned out to be before long too.
I could hear him towel off. Then he stopped moving. He must have noticed that none of us were talking. Good. Meant he was paying attention to his surroundings, and the people in it. A very Hound-like thing to do.
I felt a subtle pull on the magic network and smelled the faint stink of rotten meat. He had drawn a spell. I wondered if it was something to enhance his hearing. I thought maybe I should find out.
“Take your time,” I whispered. “We’re all still here.”
“Didn’t know if I’d interrupted a moment of silence or something,” he said, loud enough to be heard through the walls with normal hearing. “Should I let myself out the window?”
I grinned. Overcautious, slightly suspicious. Definitely a Hound. Everyone went back to what they were doing and making noise. “No. There’s coffee and food in the kitchen. You’re welcome to it.”
I stood. “Tell him the rules, Sid. He can stay the night if he needs a place, but nothing permanent.”
“Got it, boss.”
I strolled over to Zayvion. I felt better. A lot better. A little food and kicking someone out of my space somehow gave the whole day a little more shine. Maybe I’d stroll on up those stairs to Davy and tell him that he had to get better now because I said so. Not that it would work, but a girl could dream.
Chapter Thirteen
“H
ey, you,”I said to Zay as I walked across the room, “let’s get moving.”
“Lead the way.”
I did. Right out the door to the hall. I took a deep breath, didn’t smell Toya, didn’t hear her. “Terric stopping by?” I asked.
“He’s down at Get Mugged now,” Zay said, holding up his phone and the message there. “On his way up.”
“Tell him we’ll be on the third floor.”
I started up and Zayvion texted, then followed.
I tried the door—it was unlocked but Jack was right on the other side.
“Beckstrom,” he said. “Jones.”
Zay nodded and I said, “Do you know a Toya, Jack? Tall, thin, good-looking red-haired thirtysomething woman who Hounds in Vancouver?”
Jack frowned. “I don’t know any tall, thin, good-looking redheads from Vancouver. Any reason why you’re asking?”
“She was here, downstairs. Saying she was a Hound and she was your friend. One of those things I know for a fact is not true. You could go get a sniff and see if you recognize her.”
“Huh. I’ll let you know.”
“Give us a half hour or so, okay?” I said. “I want a private conversation with Mr. Collins here.”
Jack looked at Collins, who was currently spread out in the easy chair, a book opened across his face, in what looked to be a sleeping pose except for the fact that he wasn’t breathing evenly enough. Then Jack looked back at me and Zayvion. “All right. Don’t have too much fun without me.”
He left and I walked across the room, not trying to hide the sound of my footsteps across the old wood, though Zayvion behind me glided like a cat’s ghost.
“So how’s Davy?” I asked.
Collins pulled the book off his face and put the chair into a sitting position. He gave me a quick half smile, then stood and turned to face Zayvion.
“Mr. Zayvion Jones. So very good to see you again.”
“Collins. Is there a reason you’re still in town?”
“I live here.”
“That’s news to me.”
“Perhaps you’re a little behind on recent headlines.”
Zayvion approached him with that calm Zen-like manner. “Why don’t you catch me up?”
“Allison has hired me to tend to her young friend here. Frankly, I don’t know what you are doing here.”
“He’s here because I asked him to be,” I said. Obviously they had history. And while I was curious about it, right now I wanted to know how Davy was doing. “Any change?”
Collins paused before turning his back on Zayvion. He tried to hide that it didn’t bother him to have Zayvion behind him, but it was clear that he was very, very uncomfortable with that man of mine. Interesting.
“He hasn’t gotten any worse that I can tell,” he said as he took the few steps over to the side of Davy’s bed. “He is resting comfortably even though I’ve reduced the amount of narcotics. The Syphon is still active and seems to be doing a fairly good job of keeping the magic from spreading.”
From his tone, I knew he wasn’t telling me the whole story. “But?” I asked.
He studied my face, his gaze lingering the longest on my mouth before he finally said, “I have been unable to find a way to stop the poison.”
“Tell me what that means in very clear language,” I said.
“Davy is dying. A much slower death than the people who are being tended by more . . . traditional medicines and procedures. But I haven’t found a way to stop the spread of the poison. Soon it will reach his organs and shut down his vital functions.”
I just stood there. I thought that kind of news would devastate me, but I’d known that’s what we were dealing with since I’d seen Anthony’s dead body in the alley.
“Blood transfusion?” I asked.
He shook his head. “It’s magic. It won’t drain out with blood just because blood is draining.”
“Antidote?”
“Not of the magical nature. I’m using very slight magical spells on him, spells that do not radiate much magic at all. Like the Syphon. I’m concerned that any stronger magical intervention will just accelerate the speed of the poisoning.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and stood there staring at Davy. He looked like he was running a fever—too pale, the scars he still carried on his face from Greyson’s attack months ago pink against his parchment skin, his freckles too dark.
He didn’t look well, but he didn’t look like he was dying either.
“Which Syphon are you using?” Zayvion asked.
Collins looked over at him, then back at Davy. “Draw with an alternating second current.”
“That’s pretty gentle,” Zay noted.
“Agreed. But when I cast Draw with a straight feed, his vitals were compromised.”
Zay walked over to the table where Collins had laid out his supplies.
“These are new,” he said.
“I have been kicked out of the Authority and Closed, Mr. Jones. I am not dead. And neither am I unable to follow through with my research.”
“I thought we destroyed all your records.”
He didn’t look at Zay, but he smiled. “You did.”
Dad in my head shifted slightly. Just enough that I knew he was uncomfortable with this conversation. Which meant he was probably a part of Collins’ having new research.
“Even so, it would take a finer hand than mine to calibrate these spells and tech to do any greater good,” Collins said.
“Then we need to find a finer hand,” I said.
Collins glanced at me. “There isn’t one, Allison. Not any longer. I am the expert in these sorts of things, or I used to be before the Authority made a butchery of my skills.”
“You’re saying there’s no one better at this than you?”
He inhaled slightly, considering his response. “Not that I know of,” he finally said.
Cody,
Dad said.
I rubbed at my forehead.
Why are you so full of suggestions now?
I asked.
And do you really think Cody can help anybody with anything?
Perhaps my . . . focus has shifted.
It wasn’t a full answer. Still, behind it I could sense his thoughts lingering on one thing. His newborn son.
I’d heard it could be like that. When men have sons, their perspective and priorities in life change.
Cody is a Savant,
Dad said.
A great artist, even though his mind has been broken. His hands should remember.
“What about Cody Miller?” I asked.
Collins turned toward me like I’d just declared there were ninjas coming out of his ears.
“Is he still alive?”
“Yes.”
“If you can find him,” he said doubtfully. “If he is . . . of sound mind, then yes, he might be very useful.”
Well, I didn’t know how sound of mind he was, but it was still worth a try.
I thumbed my phone on and dialed Nola. I also paced across the room because I really didn’t want to have this conversation a few inches away from Collins.
Zayvion just stayed where he was, arms folded across his wide chest, watching Collins watch Davy. I wondered if they had worked together in the past. Or if maybe Zayvion had been the person who Collins said had made a butchery of his head. From Zay’s reaction, I didn’t think so. But then, I doubted any Closer would leave his victim with the memory of who had done the Closing.
“This is Nola,” Nola answered.
“Hey, it’s me,” I said.
“Allie, I’m so glad you called. We’ll be headed back to Burns in a couple days and I wanted some time to hang with you before we go.”
“I’d really like that,” I said, “but I kind of need to talk business first.”
“Which business?”
“Hounding and magic.”
“Okay. Want me to take notes?”
“No,” I said, “this isn’t one for the memory files. I need to know if you can bring Cody with you over to the den today.”
“When today, and why?”
“Now, and because I need to ask him, and you, a favor.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.
“Davy’s hurt. I’m worried. And probably a half dozen other things I should catch you up on since we last talked.”
“I told you we need some girl time,” she said. “All right. The den. That’s next to Get Mugged, right?”
“Yes. And come on up to the third floor. I’ll be here with Zayvion, Davy, and a doctor. Maybe a Hound or two.”
There was a soft knock on the door and Zayvion walked over to open it. Terric strode in.
“So this is a serious visit?” Nola asked.
“Yes, it is.”
She sighed and guilt flickered through me. I hadn’t been much of a friend lately; too caught up in the Authority’s business to really spend time with her, even though she had come to town to visit me. Well, me and her boyfriend, Detective Stotts. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d just told me no.
“We’ll be over,” she said.
“Thank you, Nola.” I wanted to say more, but not in front of Collins. “See you soon.”
I hung up.
Terric wore a brown leather jacket and jeans. His silver hair was pulled back in a band that kept all but the bangs from falling across his face. He looked like he’d gotten some sleep, or at least a good dose of caffeine. But he did not look happy, or relaxed.
He greeted Zay, then noticed Collins.
“Hello,” Terric said, testing the ground.
“Mr. Conley, it has been a long absence, hasn’t it?”
Terric’s eyebrows raised. “Yes, it has. I thought you moved overseas.”
“I moved. The distance of my relocation may have been slightly exaggerated.”
“Did you come into town with Mr. Wray?” Terric asked.
“No. I don’t work for the Authority any longer. You know that. If I remember that much, you must remember more.”
“It’s possible,” Terric said. “Not that I had any say over such things.”
Great. More history I didn’t know.
“Why did you want to see us, Terric?” I asked. “Did Bartholomew send you?”
He walked off to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee from a pot that smelled like it had been cooking on the warmer for too long.
“This has nothing to do with my . . . official capacity.” He took a drink, closed his eyes for a moment too long, then walked back into the spacious main room with us. “I wanted to check on you, both of you, and make sure you were okay. And Davy.”
“What official capacity?” Collins said, ignoring everything else he had just said.
“He’s the Voice of Faith magic for the Portland area,” I said.
Collins, who as far as I could tell didn’t get ruffled by anything, turned a shade of white most often seen in paper products.
“Is that so?” he asked with forced levity.
Well, I supposed if I was informed I was in a room with the head Closer in Portland, and also the Guardian of the gates, I’d break a sweat too.
“It is,” Terric said with such calm authority that it was like looking at a younger, silver-haired Victor.
“Then I am not comfortable with you being here while I am tending my patient, Mr. Conley,” he said.
“If you’re uncomfortable around members of the Authority,” Zayvion said, “then maybe you’re the one who shouldn’t be here, Mr. Collins.”
Collins looked from Zay to Terric, and finally to me. I just gave him a steady look.
“I see.” He seemed to come to a decision. “Well, so long as the paycheck clears the bank.” He smiled and walked over to the window, putting as much space between himself and the other two men as he could.
Also interesting.
“If you want to know how we’re doing,” I said to Terric, “I don’t know what to tell you. Davy’s hurt—dying if we can’t find a way to stop the magic spreading through him. I got a call from Stotts telling me he thinks the flu epidemic that the doctors can’t seem to contain is somehow linked to how Anthony died—and Anthony probably died from fighting with a Veiled and definitely died from too much magic poisoning him.
“Since Anthony bit Davy, we’re pretty sure he has the same infection, but whether it’s the Veiled that are poisoned, or magic itself is poisoned, we don’t know. And we don’t really know how it’s spreading so quickly, how other people are being infected. . . .”
Or did we? I’d seen two people start coughing after a Veiled stepped out of the same space they’d been inhabiting. Were the Veiled doing more than occupying the same space with the living? Were they somehow possessing them, if even only temporarily, to make them sick? If so, why? What did they get out of it?
“Something you’d like to share with the class, Allison, dear?” Collins asked.
Zay leveled him a dirty glare.
“I thought I saw a Veiled step out of a person on the street the other night,” I said. “And yesterday I saw it again—different person, and I think a different Veiled. Do you think they might be possessing people?”
Zayvion shrugged. “It’s not very likely. Let’s say that they are. What danger would that present? They can’t control a living body. The Veiled have no physical or magical mass in life.”
Unless they had a disk stuck in their neck. That not only gave them mass, it gave them life. For as long as the magic in the disk lasted.
I hadn’t seen whether the Veiled on the street had a disk. So that wasn’t helping much.
“Ideas, people?” I said.
Terric walked to the window that looked over Get Mugged. “Let me see if I have this straight. You think that magic is poisoned or that the Veiled themselves are poison and are somehow infecting people with magic?”
“I’m trying to find the connection,” I said, “between the Veiled Anthony followed, Anthony dying of magic poisoning, him biting Davy, and Davy being infected with poisoned magic. Have there been cases of people transferring magical poisoning through bites?”
Terric looked out the window, thinking it over. Zay shook his head, his eyes on Davy. Even Collins nodded. “Not that I know of,” Collins said.
“So somehow Anthony infected Davy with poisoned magic with a bite?” I said. “How?”
“Can you see any Veiled right now?” Zayvion asked me.
I looked around the room. Nothing. I walked over to the window and checked outside. Streets, buildings, spells, people. No Veiled. “Not right now.”
“We could always have a volunteer put himself in the path of a Veiled and see if he is possessed,” Collins said.
“No,” Zayvion and Terric said at the same time.