Read Motor City Mage Online

Authors: Cindy Spencer Pape

Motor City Mage (10 page)

“All right.” Des was anxious to get moving, now that they knew the family would be fine. “Thank them and let’s be on our way.”

Chapter Seven

Lana discovered being flashed was almost as nausea-inducing as stepping through a portal. There was that same feeling of falling, of disorientation, then landing with a thud when you got where you were going.

Des had insisted on going first and was waiting for her when they arrived in a small, wooden enclosure—some kind of shed, maybe? Shelves lined the sides and daylight trickled through a small, dusty window made of something like rice paper. Without thinking, she took his hand and they laced their fingers together as Vin knocked on the door leading away from the window. Was this an entryway of some kind? If so, it wasn’t a very pleasant one and couldn’t do a lot for business.

“Anybody home?” Vin called another of those names Lana couldn’t have pronounced in a million years, followed by a string of words in what she assumed was the local language.

“Maybe he just isn’t home. Grocery store? Girlfriend?” Lana was starting to get a squicky feeling in the pit of her stomach. Along with the smell of dust and rotted wood, and some kind of food, there was something else creeping from under that door…and it wasn’t pleasant.

“He’s a hermit,” Vin growled. “He never leaves his house.” He pounded harder on the door, but still, no one answered.

“How upset is he going to be if we break in?” Des laid his ear against the door. “I can’t hear any movement or voices.”

“Significantly pissed.” Vin thought for a moment. “But we can fix the door if we need to, and he’s always open to bribes. I say we go for it.”

Des and Lana both nodded and stepped back from the door while Vin kicked it, easily popping the latch from the flimsy wood. When the door slammed back on its hinges, the stench of rot hit Lana’s nose making her gag and double over.

“Somebody’s dead.”

“You think?” she choked out.
Leave it to Des to state the obvious
. She got herself together and glared.

“In which case, we may be seriously fucked,” Vin added. “So, shall we? I won’t say ladies first.” Since he was blocking the door anyway, neither Lana nor Des could lead unless he moved.

“All this testosterone is making me nauseous,” Lana grumbled. “Somebody either go in, or get out of my way.”

The shed proved to be off a small, untidy kitchen. Food had rotted on the table—never a good sign. Some sort of insects buzzed around it.
Bleh.
The food reeked, but that wasn’t the source of the overpowering odor. That was coming from the next room.

“Oh, fuck.” Vin’s voice carried through the doorway. “It’s messy, but he’s not going to hurt anyone.”

Someone had killed the demon wizard, and it hadn’t been an easy death. The body—two armed and purple like Fish as opposed to the four-armed blue farmers—had been nailed up to the wall by its hands and feet. Multiple stab wounds were probably the cause of death. Its blood was purplish black, Lana noted, sort of like squid ink, at least when it was dry. The guts that spilled out of the biggest slash were a muddy lavender-gray. Even given the heat, which would speed up decomposition, the body had obviously been here awhile. Lana tried not to notice the multiple species—or generations—of insects crawling all over it.

The rest of the room—a small office or study, opening out into what looked like a shop—had been trashed. Chairs were broken, books spilled off shelves, there were holes in the walls and a few floorboards had been ripped up.

“I wonder if they found what they were looking for?” Des righted a chair and flipped through some of the papers on the big desk in the center of the room.

“Don’t suppose,” Vin said with a sigh. “He was a stubborn old coot.”

“I hope this doesn’t have anything to do with us,” Lana said. “Though I don’t see how it can.”

“Doubt it.” Vin pointed to some letters scrawled on the wall in…blood? “Anyone with this kind of power is bound to have enemies. Based on that tag, I’m thinking he crossed the local guild representatives. Kind of like refusing to pay protection money to the gangs in Detroit.”

“Just our fucking luck.” Lana shook her head.

“So, know any other wizards?” Des asked. “Preferably ones who pay their union dues?”

Vin shook his head. “I wish I knew where Peaches kept his maps.”

“Peaches?” Despite the situation, Lana felt her lips twitch.

“It amused him,” Vin said, a sad look flickering across his quasi-reptilian features. “And honestly the names on this plane are a mouthful, even if you do know the language.”

“So, this Peaches had maps?” Des started flipping through the papers with more intent. “What kinds of maps?”

“All kinds, but the ones I’m thinking of show portals—permanent ones. He had the layout of the land in each of the worlds, too, so you could find your way from one portal to the next.”

“So we might find one that leads to Faerie, or even to Earth.” Lana’s heart sped up. “But we might have to go through a couple different planes to get there.”

Vin began opening drawers in the desk. “Exactly. The maps also have the 4-1-1 on handy things like climate and how friendly the natives are to strangers.”

“So what did they look like?” Lana started picking papers up off the floor. “Were they bound into a book? In some kind of box? How big?”

“Box,” Vin grunted, righting a shelf. “I never saw where he kept it. He always made me wait out in the shop while he came in and got it. Black wood with brass hinges and a lock. About the size of one of your shoe boxes but longer.”

Des started sifting through the piles on the floor. “How long was he gone? Would he have had time to go upstairs? Did you hear his footsteps?”

Vin tipped his head. “Maybe up a few steps, but not the whole way.”

“Hollow step,” Lana and Des said at the same time, looking at one another with smiles of relief. Des beat her to the stairs by just a second, but she ducked under his arm. None of the risers or treads had been pulled back.

“Got a hammer anywhere?” she asked. “Or a crowbar would work.”

“Move,” Vin said. He bounded up the stairs and then began ripping off treads as he came down. About four from the bottom, he said, “Jackpot,” and lifted a black box out of the narrow space.

“Let’s
not
look at these here,” Des said. “I don’t want anyone to walk in and think we were the ones who killed him.”

“Good idea,” Vin agreed. “Wait a few, though.” He made his way back up the torn up stairs and returned with a handful of items. “Here’s a clean robe.” He tossed Lana a piece of pale blue cloth and some silk cord, which would act as a belt. “He also kept a duffle and some loose cash in his bedroom.”

Most of their weapons fit into the long cloth bag along with the maps, so they wouldn’t have to walk through town carrying automatic rifles. Lana changed into the toga-type garment while the guys rooted through the shop, adding a few flasks and a tablecloth to the bag, the latter presumably for padding. Finally, they retreated as they’d arrived, through the shed attached to the back of the house, winding up in an alley.

“A few blocks over there’s an inn that allows outsiders,” Vin said. “We can get a room there, maybe even something to eat, and study the maps. I’m pretty much flashed out for today anyhow.”

Lana and Des shared a look of concern. They needed to get back home sooner rather than later. Still, food and a bath sounded damn good. Somehow they managed to convey the entire conversation with just their eyes. It was scary how well she and Des were coming to know each other. Reluctantly, she gave a little nod and Des turned to Vin. “Lead on.”

* * *

The inn was a relief after all they’d been through in the last few days. The main room reminded Des a little of the bar scene from
Star Wars,
without the music. Demons of all different shapes and sizes filled the place, laughing, eating, drinking and even yelling. Des and Lana were the only humans, and a lot of the others overtly checked them over. Vin seemed to know his way around. He sauntered up to the bar and ordered something in the local language, then led them all to a table, three foaming mugs in one clawed hand. Des chose the seat with his back to the wall and kept the bag with the maps and weapons between his feet.

“It’s not too different from beer,” he said as he sat down and handed out the mugs. “Maybe closer to hard cider. Ale or something like it is a pretty universal concept. They’re sending over food in a minute, and I booked two rooms, assuming you two want to share.”

“You assumed right,” Des said. Even if they didn’t do anything but sleep, he wasn’t about to let Lana out of his sight. He still considered it his responsibility to get her home in one piece.

Lana shot him a sharp glance, but didn’t contradict him. “Do they have running water in the rooms?” She sipped her drink and gave a small, happy sigh before taking a deeper swallow.

Vin nodded. “Oversized tubs even, to fit the locals. I’ve stayed here a couple times in the past. The place is pretty comfortable.”

Lana took another drink. “You know, this isn’t bad. Kind of fruity, but with a kick to it.” She nudged Des. “Try some. It takes a lot for a werewolf to get drunk, so I can be the designated driver.”

Des sipped. There was no way in hell he was going to let himself get drunk on a foreign plane either. His metabolism and magic could handle a little alcohol, and he had to admit, the cool beverage tasted good. He tipped his face back to enjoy the light breeze from an overhead fan. Clockwork, part of him noticed absently. There were also gaslights here, or something similar. The world didn’t seem to have electricity or cars, but they had some technology. He’d seen a similar wind-up ceiling fan at the wizard’s house. With luck, there’d be one upstairs in the bedroom as well, along with the promised bathtub and hopefully a big, comfy bed.

He wasn’t sure what they ate—a rough brown flatbread and some kind of stew with meat and vegetables and, holy cow, actual spices. It was filling and a lot more flavorful than what they’d had in the dungeon. Des and Vin each polished off three bowls, and Lana two. For the first time in days, the space between his shoulder blades didn’t itch, or at least not much. They were still ass-deep in trouble, but he was starting to think that maybe—just maybe—they stood a chance of coming out of it in one piece.

Lana yawned. It seemed to split her face in half and she shook her head afterward. “Okay, boys, I’m ready for a bath and a nap. Since we have planning to do first, let’s get that over with so we can all pass out in comfort.”

Though the place resembled a medieval tavern, in other ways it was more like a modern motel. They’d been given keys attached to a tag with the room number on it—at least he assumed the marking was a number. Vin handed Lana one of the keys as they climbed the stairs. “I asked for the far end of the hallway,” Vin said, “though I’d rather not have to go out a third story window if we can help it. They were booked up on the second floor. The good news is they’ll bring food to the rooms if we don’t want to go downstairs again later.”

“Amen to both.” Lana walked beside Des, though they didn’t touch. Des carried the duffel with the weapons and maps between them. “I was starting to feel like a specimen in a zoo down there. And an uneventful night would be a nice change of pace.”

Their rooms proved to be across the hall from one another, on the very end, as promised. A rickety-looking fire escape led down from the unglazed window between the doors, with its wooden shutters open to catch the breeze. Des saw each of his companions register that information as well.

Lana opened the door to their room and both of them surveyed it quickly before stepping inside. Wooden floor. Gaslights. A shuttered window, likely without glass, and an opening that probably led to the bathroom. Two sturdy chairs flanked a small table in the corner opposite what looked about like a queen-sized bed. They moved inside, cautious but not paranoid. He didn’t feel the need to sweep for microphones or cameras.

Lana disappeared into the other room and returned with a relieved smile. “Real plumbing. Yay. It appears toilets are also a universal concept, though the flush mechanism is a little weird.” She dried her hands on a small square of cloth and wiggled her eyebrows. “There’s even soap and the bathtub is oversized as advertised, although there’s no shower. At this point, I’m not complaining.”

Des took his turn in the bathroom, returning to the bedroom just as Vin knocked at the door, carrying one of the chairs from his room.

“Okay, boys.” Lana untied the lacing on the duffel bag and lifted out the box of maps. “Let’s see if we can find a way home. With luck, we’ll get there before our families have torn Detroit to pieces looking for us.”

“And before Malen kills too many others with his drugs.” Vin took out maps and began to unroll them, stacking them on the table. In each roll was a large map of the world, with smaller, more manageable regional ones attached by something that resembled bobby pins. They started with the world maps. When the edges started to curl, Lana found two mugs and held the other two corners with her hands.

Des watched her, admiring the grace of her deft, quick movements. He was even getting used to the fact that she was physically stronger than him. Now that he’d seen her throw up after a fight, he was starting to think her vulnerable side was even sexier than her limber but curvy body.
Shit.
They had to get home before he got even stupider in love with Lana.

Love? You blithering idiot.
He couldn’t believe he’d used that word, even to himself. He was doomed for sure. Best case scenario, he’d lose his job. Worst case, her cousins—who didn’t share her aversion to blood—would rip him to shreds.

“Okay, here’s where we are now.” Vin spread out another map on top of the pile. Des couldn’t make any sense of the writing, but he did get a concept of terrain—trees looked like trees, blue lines for rivers, and mountains were little points, just like on any map he’d ever seen. Vin pointed to one big circle. “Here’s this village. That
X
is the portal we blew up.” The
X
was maybe an inch or two from the circle, right near some hills and trees.

“What’s that little symbol next to the
X?
” Lana kept her elbow in place but pointed one finger toward the portal.

Other books

The Fiancé He Can't Forget by Caroline Anderson
Ebudae by Carroll, John H.
Concubine's Tattoo by Laura Joh Rowland
Earth and Fire by Janet Edwards
Flight of the Hawk by Gary Paulsen
The Yearbook by Carol Masciola
Runner (The Runners, Book One) by Logan Rutherford
Why Is Milk White? by Alexa Coelho