Whisper of Shadows (The Diamond City Magic Novels) (8 page)

“I don’t suppose you have any secret exits out of this place?”

He shook his head. “Just the back kitchen entrance, the front, and the side where we get our deliveries.”

I hadn’t expected a serious answer. He looked like a sad puppy, and I wanted to pat his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”

“We’ll help you.”

I was already shaking my head. “You’ve done plenty for me and I’m hugely grateful. But these people won’t mind collateral damage. I can’t let you take the risk.”

That raised the question of just how the hell I was going to escape. The binding magic still hadn’t subsided. I doubted it would until they caught me, or until someone else got pissed and shut them down. That was unlikely. My guess was that the group that had organized this had made arrangements with the local Tyet bosses and cops. I had to figure this out without magic.

I mentally flipped through my list of options. I could try to disguise myself and leave with the staff. I was willing to bet none of them lived in Midtown. They’d either have vehicles or use the subway or bus to get home. I gave a little shake of my head. No good. The goons after me wouldn’t hesitate to stop the group and check us all. But maybe while they were leaving, I could make a run for it out another door. I’d have fewer eyes on me at that point. Of course, the sentry watching would just summon back his friends. So, out of luck there.

Hiding out until the morning wasn’t going to work, either. Once everyone left, my pursuers would break in to look for me. Right now, the only thing holding them back was the fact that this was Midtown and they probably hadn’t gotten permission for a bloodbath in their negotiations with the local bosses.

So what did that leave me? I’d spent years honing my trade. Specifically, I’d sharpened my breaking-and-entering skills, my skulking skills, and my hiding skills. I should be able to figure my way out of this one. I just had to get creative.

“Is there any chance anybody here has some clothes and flat shoes that will fit me?” I asked Luis. “I’ve got some cash to pay for it.”

He left to go check, and I refilled my coffee cup with the Aztec brew. I was going to have to learn to make this, or I’d be visiting the restaurant daily.

I still hadn’t come up with a plan when Luis returned, followed by Emily—the hostess—and a couple of other women. One wore the white of the kitchen, and the other was dressed in the same black waitstaff uniform Luis wore. Emily carried a gym bag, and the others carried a collection of various other articles of clothing and shoes.

“Let’s see if anything works for you,” Emily said, plopping the gym bag down on the table and unzipping the top.

“You and I aren’t exactly the same size,” I said, eyeing her petite figure. She was probably size zero, and her feet looked like she shopped in the kids’ section of the store.

She smiled. “These are Art’s. He’s on the line. He said to take whatever works.”

The other two women set their burdens onto the table.

“I wear size ten shoes,” announced the kitchen worker. “Size ten pants, too.” She eyed my boots. “Those are slamming. I’d totally trade you.”

“You’ve got it,” I said, stripping off my pretty boots and handing them to her.

“Seriously? Those have to cost a couple hundred bucks.” She turned them in her hands like they were made of glass.

“They’ll look better on you,” I said.

Emily pulled a pair of button-up Levi’s out of the bag. I took them and slid them on under my dress. They fit a little loose and were slightly short, but good enough. Next she handed me a blue tee shirt that said, “I put the Pro in Procrastination” on the front.

The waitress—her name tag said
Salaleah
—held out a thick brown sweater. It had a red-and-white pattern woven around the yoke.

“My grandmother made it,” she said in a quick voice. Her hazel eyes sparkled bright behind her fringe of bangs.

I pushed it back toward her. “I can’t take it.”

She smiled, and the weariness that clung to her lightened. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a drawer full.”

“Still—” I frowned at the garment as she shoved it back into my hands. “It’s handmade.”

“And warm. You might need it.”

I sighed and decided to give in gracefully. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Thanks.”

Emily handed me a clean pair of socks. I slipped them and the shoes on. They fit almost perfectly. After that, I went to the bathroom to take off my dress and exchange it for the tee shirt and sweater. I stuck my thigh pack into my front pocket, where I could get at the knife more easily, then returned to the dining room, where the others stood talking. They all looked at me as I came in.

“We’re trying to figure out how to get you out of here,” Luis said.

I started shaking my head before he finished. “No. It’s too risky for you.”

“What will you do?” Luis asked.

I had no idea. “When do you shut the place down?”

Emily checked her watch. “We should be done cleaning and getting everybody out in about an hour or so.”

So I had an hour to figure out a plan.

“What about the kitchen garden on the roof?” Luis said, clearly not giving up on helping me.

“A garden on the roof?” I repeated.

Emily nodded. “There’s a greenhouse for winter and a patio and beds for summer. The boss sometimes throws cocktail parties up there. There’s a fire escape.”

Hope sparked to life. “That could be my ticket out of here.”

Luis frowned. “Won’t they be watching for you to come off the roof?”

“Yep. And if I can convince them that’s where I am going—”

“You can sneak out the front door,” Luis finished.

I nodded. “Can one of you show me the door up to the roof?”

“I’ll do it,” Emily said. “Check on your tables,” she told Luis.

The entrance to the roof was around the corner from the bathrooms, between the manager’s office and a storeroom at the end of a stubbed hallway. Emily stepped into the manager’s office and returned with a small brass key. A painted Cinco de Mayo skull hung off it. She turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. On the other side, brightly tiled stairs led up into darkness. I flipped on the light and went up. Brilliant colors swirled beside me and overhead in a mural of some sort. I stopped on a broad landing. On the left wall were a dozen different switches, each carefully labeled, with a breaker box right beside them. The door out onto the roof was steel.

“Will the key open this one, too?”

Emily nodded and turned the lock. I swung the door open, and cold rushed in. I shivered. I hadn’t put my coat on. I looked out. The entry let out onto an oblong patio surrounded by curved stone benches. A long bar area ran along the five foot wall surrounding the roof. On either side of the patio were two greenhouses with frosted glass walls. The snow had been cleared away so the lack of my tracks wouldn’t be a problem. I smiled to myself. I might just get out of this, after all.

“I’ve got an idea,” I said. “But I’m going to need a little more help to sell it.”

Emily nodded readily. I was so going to owe her and Luis and the rest of the crew.

“What can we do?”

“I want the bad guys to think I’m hiding out in the stairwell. They’ll come looking for me after you leave, and while they are trying to break down the doors, I’ll be making my exit. All you have to do is drop loud hints that I’m still inside and waiting to escape off the roof once things quiet down.”

“Where will you hide until you can escape?”

That I hadn’t figured out yet. “Got any suggestions?”

She rubbed her chin, considering me. “Maybe. Come on.”

I shut the upper door and rattled it to make sure it was closed. “I should brace this.”

Emily frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t want them to break down the door too quickly and find out I’m not hiding in here. They’ll pick the lock pretty quick, I’m sure, so I need another way to keep them out. I just wish I could blockade both doors.”

We went downstairs, and Emily opened the storage room for me. I grabbed a couple of brooms and took them back up and wedged them against the door. It was a heavy fire door, like the one closing off the stairwell below. I was just lucky they couldn’t use magic any more than I could. They’d have to use good old-fashioned muscle to get through the door. I wished them luck.

The downstairs door was another story. Since there was no way to brace it, I just broke the key off in the lock. “I promise I’ll pay to fix it.”

“It won’t be a problem,” Emily said.

I hoped she was right. I hoped nobody would be losing their jobs for helping me.

She led me back through the main dining room to the kitchen. While most of the restaurant was decorated in brilliant colors and rustic tile, the kitchen was monochrome modern. The walls were white, and everything else was stainless steel. Rubber mats covered the floors.

My new friends collected around me again, along with the kitchen staff. I explained my plan.

“I thought we could put her out with the trash,” Emily said.

Her plan was to put me inside a black plastic bag inside a rolling trash can. I eyed the one in question. It would be a squeeze, but I could fit. Getting out might take a minute, though. They’d pile some real garbage on top to deter anybody from looking. Then they’d leave, dropping a couple hints that I was hiding inside. The end result would hopefully be that my pursuers would immediately come inside to search for me, leaving me to escape unnoticed.

I could see only a few problems with the scenario. All my attackers might not come inside. I’d be blind in the trashcan and helpless. I’d also be in a tiny little space without air or light. The idea made my lovely dinner churn up into my throat. It could be said I had a touch of claustrophobia. It could also be said I turned into a basket case in small spaces. I swallowed. I could do this. I managed to ride the subway all the time. I just had to suck it up.

I nodded, already finding it hard to breathe. “Let’s do it.”

I waited until everybody was about ready to go. All that was left to do was take out the trash and the soiled laundry. They’d do that as they were all leaving for the night, as was their habit. They usually walked down to the subway in a group. Safety in numbers and all that.

They put a clean black bag into the plastic rolling trash bin. I climbed in, bracing on Luis’s shoulder for balance. He grinned at me. The boy was going to break a lot of hearts. I’d put on my coat, but it was well below freezing outside. I pulled the little silver packet Touray had given me out of my pocket and shook out the thin blanket. I didn’t know how long I’d be out in the trash, but it could help me from freezing to death. I wrapped it around myself and took a deep breath. It took me a moment to get my knees to unlock so that I could lower myself into the bin.

My helpers pulled the plastic back up over my head. Luis looked down at me.

“You going to be okay? You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Not a fan of tight spaces,” I managed to squeeze out, clamping my lips tight to keep from moaning. Cramps tightened in my calves and thighs from me clenching myself so tight. I couldn’t make myself relax.

“You’re kidding, right? You’re not really claustrophobic, are you?”

“Only when I’m crammed into small spaces where I can’t breathe.” I tried to smile and failed. “Close me up.”

“Wait a minute,” Emily said and vanished.

I tipped my head back. I could do this. What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like I couldn’t tear through the plastic and escape. They weren’t putting a lid on the can. Just a pile of rotting food.

Emily returned with the bottom of a turkey baster. “Poke it through the plastic so you can suck in air. Might help.”

“It could,” I said. “Thanks.”

“All right then,” Luis said. “Let’s get the show on the road.”

I bent my head forward and shut my eyes.
In 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . Out 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . In 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . .
I focused on my breathing, trying not to hear the plastic rattling around my ears. Someone patted my head, then squishy weight settled onto my hunched back.

“Are you okay?” Luis asked.

“Fine,” I said, wrapping my hands around the basting tube and gripping it with all my strength.

I heard the shuffle of steps, and more things settled on top of me.

“Ew,” Luis said. “That stinks. What
is
it?”

Somebody said something I couldn’t hear. My heart thudded in my chest like I’d been running miles. Sweat trickled down my forehead and between my breasts. Trembles fluttered through my stomach and down my legs. Gooseflesh pimpled my skin, and I shuddered.

It’s fine,
I told myself.
You can easily get out of the bag. You aren’t trapped. Just breathe. Breathe.
I started counting again.

I wasn’t ready when they started rolling me. I jolted over the threshold and outside. More rumbling bumping, and then I came to a halt. Someone patted the side of the bin twice, and then there was a loud burst of voices and laughing. The voices faded as my new friends retreated. I was alone. But not for long.