Balance of Power: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 25)

by R. L. King

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t tell me they were taking you somewhere I couldn’t trace. It took me longer to find them than I thought.” She had her phone in her hand now. “I’m calling somebody. I’ll be damned if I let you die on me out here in your underwear in the middle of a vacant lot full of trash.”

  He raised a shaky hand and reached for her arm. The manacles were gone now. More memories tumbled back.

  He’d done it.

  His desperate gamble had paid off.

  “What the hell are you smiling about? Damn it, you look like absolute crap.”

  “Feel…like it, too.” He stared at her. His memories were like a box full of puppies, popping up with no discernable order or chronology. “We’ve got to…find them.”

  “Find who?”

  “Portas. Where…are we?”

  “North San Jose. Like I said, in a vacant lot full of trash. Somebody dumped you here. Come on—do you think you can stand if I help you? Let me get you to my car so we can get out of here. There’s a blanket in the back.”

  He remembered the knife, and patted his chest. It wasn’t there now. Had the Portas people removed it before they dumped his body?

  “What’s wrong?”

  Magic.

  His breath came faster, and his heart pounded harder. The obelisk wasn’t here anymore. Did he dare hope he could—

  “Alastair?”

  “Shh. A moment, please,” he whispered.

  He’d thought opening his eyes was hard, but it was nothing compared to this. He had to concentrate, to focus, and everything seemed to be conspiring against that.

  But he had to know.

  He held up a shaking hand and stared hard at it, reaching out with everything he had.

  Come on…come on…

  A faint, flickering purple-and-gold nimbus sprang up around his hand. As he watched it, it grew stronger, and even the tiny band of silver around the edge showed up for a second before he lost his concentration and the whole thing collapsed again.

  “What are you doing? We have to go.”

  He let his breath out in a rush of relief. “Magic.”

  “Magic? What are you talking about?”

  He snapped his gaze to fix on her. “Where are they? The people who took me? We can’t let them get away—”

  “They’re not going to get away.”

  She was avoiding something—he could see it in her face. “What—? Did you—?”

  “I didn’t do anything. They got raided.”

  That was almost enough to make him ignore the pain in his chest. “Raided?”

  “Come on.” She slipped her arm around his shoulders. “Help me here. Let’s get you back to the car and then I’ll tell you everything.”

  He resisted. “No hospital.”

  “No hospital, you stubborn son of a bitch. I’ll take you back to your house. Okay?”

  “Yes. All right.”

  Her car, a rented sedan, wasn’t parked far away, but she had to do most of the work to get him there. He tried to help—she’d either already cut the zip-tie around his ankles or the Portas people had removed it before they dumped him—but his legs refused to obey his commands. It was a good thing she was strong.

  Finally, he lay slumped across the back seat with a blanket over him.

  “Are you sure you’re not going to die on me?” She peered in at him accusingly.

  “I’m sure.” If I haven’t died by now, I’m not going to. He lifted his head a little to see that his chest was covered in dried blood, but the knife wound had already begun to knit together. “What do you mean…they got raided?”

  She climbed into the driver’s seat and drove off. “Just what I said. I tracked those people to an abandoned church not too far from here. When I got inside and roughed up one of their guys, they told me you were dead—that they’d dumped your body in a lot a mile or so away. He was pretty smug about it, but he folded like a cheap card table when I threatened him. By the way, I’ve got your phone, but I think they burned the rest of your clothes.”

  “What about the obelisk?” Stone tried to sit up, but didn’t have the energy to do it.

  “The what?”

  “The black pyramid, and the base. They put them together.”

  “You mean the weird-looking thing inside the cage?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know what happened to it. That’s when the other people showed up, and I had to get my ass out of there. I managed to sneak out the back before they got inside, but it was a close thing.”

  Damn. “Who were they? Your employers?” Had someone else been tracking the meeting at the coffee shop, and gone in with the intent to rescue Richard?

  “No. These were law enforcement. Several local cops, but there were a couple others, too, who seemed to be in charge. Plainclothes, but you can’t miss the type. Feds, maybe. They were good.”

  “Oh, bloody hell…”

  “You know them?”

  “Not…exactly. Was one of them a woman with red hair?”

  “Yeah. The other one looked like a middle-aged dad.”

  Stone let his breath out. “They were after the obelisk too. If they were behind the raid on Portas’s lair…”

  “They might have it now.”

  “Yes.”

  She twisted around and flashed him a quick smile. “Maybe we can do something about that. But we have to do something about you first.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Tell you soon. You’re in no shape to be doing anything yet. Let’s get you home.”

  He could tell from her tone that she wasn’t going to say anything else now, and in any case, he was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. At least the blanket was warm. “Eleanor…?” he mumbled.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you…”

  She snorted. “Hey, you’re paying me. And I’m getting a bonus for this one.”

  “You’re worth every penny.”

  By the time they reached the Encantada house, Stone was feeling marginally better. Only marginally, though. His chest still hurt, and he still had next to no energy.

  The car stopped. “How do I get the gate open?”

  Damn. The fob was in his car, which was probably still parked back in Palo Alto. At least he hoped it was. He dragged himself up, focused, and used a little magic to open it, then sank back down. “How long has it been? What time is it?”

  “Uh…it’s around three a.m.”

  “What day?”

  “Friday.”

  He let his breath out. The meeting had been Thursday night—so Portas hadn’t held onto him and Richard for long before they began their little torture party. But that also meant Verity was still in Australia, and Jason and Amber were in Los Angeles. No help from either of them.

  It was a good thing whoever had dumped his body had pulled the knife out before they did it. If they hadn’t, his strange accelerated healing ability wouldn’t have been able to start working on him, and he’d be in a lot worse shape than he was now.

  The car crawled up the graveled drive and stopped in front of the house.

  “Getting you inside isn’t going to be easy. You don’t happen to have a gurney in there, do you?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Already, he was feeling somewhat better. Still not great, but well enough he could provide a bit of help as she hustled him into the house and settled him on the sofa. Raider immediately appeared, leaping to a nearby chair to watch with worried eyes.

  “It’s all right, mate,” Stone rasped. “I know I smell like blood and rubbish.”

  Eleanor considered. “Okay. Now what? I can’t just leave you here like this. You need attention. I can do a bit of field-medic stuff, but I’m no nurse.”

  She was right—he did need attention. The wound in his chest was healing, but the knife had pierced deep. It would be slow if he left it alone, even if he didn’t move around. He could try to heal it himself, but he didn’t trust
his abilities on something like this. And Verity was well out of reach…

  An idea struck him. He looked up at Eleanor. “Listen…I need to ask you a big favor.”

  “You mean bigger than retrieving your mostly-dead carcass from a vacant lot in the middle of the night?” she asked dryly.

  “Potentially, yes.”

  “What?”

  “You said something about dealing with the people who raided Portas later. What did you mean by that?”

  Her sly smile returned. “I put a tracker on their car before I took off. If they didn’t find it, we might be able to find them. But you’re in no shape to go anywhere, and no offense, I’m not going up against the Feds on my own, without any of your special kind of assistance. I’m a mercenary and I’m damn good, but I’m not an idiot. Unfortunately, they’ll probably be long gone before we get to them.”

  “Maybe not.” Now it was Stone’s turn for a sly smile. “That’s where the favor comes in.”

  “Mate, I do not know what to do with you.”

  Eddie grabbed hold of one of Stone’s arms, and Ward the other, as he appeared in front of them and immediately pitched forward.

  “Long…story,” he got out between harsh breaths. “Thanks, both of you. Did you…find somebody?”

  They helped him to a sofa and laid him down. “Yeah,” Eddie said. “It’s that strange kind of luck o’ yours, I think—one of the best ’ealers in the UK ’as been ’ere at Caventhorne doin’ some research, and we convinced ’im to do the job. You’re gonna owe ’im, though—not just for ’ealin’. For silence. He’s a right grumpy bugger, and ’e’s blowin’ off a nice lunch invitation for this.”

  Stone nodded wearily. “Good. Good. Send him in, please. I’ll pay whatever he wants.”

  “And then you’re gonna tell us what’s got you into this state, right?”

  “Yes…but later. Time is short.”

  Both of them looked dubious. “Okay,” Eddie finally said. “I’ll get ’im. You rest. You look like you’re ’alf dead. Keep an eye on ’im, Ward. Make sure ’e doesn’t do a runner on us.”

  There was no danger of that. He felt half-dead. The trip to Caventhorne had taken what little energy he had left, but at least he’d kept it together long enough for Eleanor to help him clean up and put on some fresh clothes after he called Eddie. “Help” might have been a bit optimistic—she did most of the work.

  Eddie hurried out, and Ward sat on the chair across from the sofa. “This has something to do with the pyramid, doesn’t it?” he asked.

  Stone nodded wearily. “Haven’t got the energy to tell the whole story now…and it needs a few pints anyway. I promise, I’ll tell you everything after it’s over.”

  “It isn’t over yet?”

  “That…remains to be seen. Depends on how fast I can get back into action.”

  Ward looked dubious about that being anytime soon, but didn’t comment.

  Eddie returned five minutes later with an older, cranky-looking man in a suit even more old-fashioned than Stefan Kolinsky favored. He had a florid face, small eyes beneath impressively-bushy eyebrows, and a bald, shiny pate.

  The man took one look at Stone, narrowed his eyes to slits, and asked, “What happened to you?” His accent was thickly Scottish.

  “Got myself stabbed.”

  He shook his head. “Damned fool kids. Okay. Take your shirt off and let’s have a look.”

  Stone needed Eddie’s help to comply. He lay back, propped against the sofa arm, and waited.

  By now, the wound didn’t look like much to the naked eye. The man dragged a chair over, sat, and fuzzed out as he shifted to magical sight. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and stared at Stone in shock. “How the hell are you alive?”

  “Er—”

  “No, I’m serious. Ye said ye got stabbed, but this looks like it hit ye square in the heart. Ye shouldn’t be alive.”

  Stone managed a small shrug. “What can I say? Lucky, I guess. Can you fix it?”

  “Depends on what ye mean by ‘fix.’ How long ago did this happen? Why’d ye let it go so long before gettin’ help? This looks like it’s been healin’ up for days.”

  Here was the tricky part. “Eddie said I’m paying for your silence…and your discretion. Is that right?”

  “Yeah, and payin’ dear. This is gonna take some careful work.”

  “That’s fine.” He glanced at Eddie, who nodded once. He trusted this guy, and Stone didn’t have much choice but to follow suit. “The thing is…I’ve got some…er…rather special tricks up my sleeve. This happened about…” He paused, then forged ahead. “Two hours ago.”

  The man’s bushy eyebrows met in the middle as he frowned deeply. “Don’t lie to me, boy.”

  “I’m not. Can you do it or not? I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

  The healer barked something between a laugh and a snort. “Ach, I can do it all right. But ye won’t be hurryin’ anywhere for quite some time if ye’ve got any sense.”

  “’E ’asn’t got much sense, and that’s the God’s-honest truth,” Eddie said.

  Stone shot him a tepid glare. “Just do it. I’ll worry about the rest later.”

  Clearly, the man had his doubts. But finally he shrugged. “Whatever. It’s your money.”

  Fifteen minutes later, he sat back in his chair with a loud sigh. “There. That’s the best I can do. Ye’re damned lucky it’s a single wound—those are easier to heal, even bad ones like this.”

  Stone, who’d been lying back and luxuriating as the pain lessened and it got easier to get a full breath, opened his eyes and sat up. He still didn’t feel a hundred percent—not even close. But this man was good, without a doubt. Better than Verity. Possibly better than Edna Soren, and that was saying a lot. “Thank you, sir.”

  The healer harrumphed. “Don’t do nothin’ so daft next time.”

  “I’ll…keep that in mind.” He sat up and pulled his shirt back on. It didn’t hurt, which was nice. “Let me know where to send your payment.”

  Eddie and Ward eyed him severely after the man left. “Don’t tell me you’re plannin’ on ’eadin’ out again already.”

  “No choice. As I said, haven’t got much time.” His stomach rumbled, and he realized he’d had neither food nor drink since early the previous evening. “But first—have you got something to eat? And something non-alcoholic to drink?”

  Barely thirty minutes had passed when Stone popped back into his bedroom in Encantada. Between the healing and the sandwich and tea Ward had found for him, he felt better than he had since the beginning of his Portas ordeal. That was still only about seventy percent of normal, but he’d take it.

  Eleanor was waiting for him downstairs, seated on the sofa with Raider, drinking a Guinness and watching a monster movie on the TV.

  “You’re still here,” he called.

  “You expected I wouldn’t be?” She studied him with a critical eye. “You look a lot better. Whatever you did up there, it worked.”

  “Mostly worked. Best I can hope for.” He sat across from her. “Please tell me they didn’t find your tracker yet.”

  She raised her phone and smiled. “Not yet. I’m disappointed, actually. If they’re Feds, they’re getting sloppy.”

  “Their sloppiness is our gain. Where are they?”

  “Still in San Jose—near downtown. Looks like they’re in a hotel. One of those long-term residence inns.”

  Stone frowned. “That’s odd. I wonder what they’re doing there. Are they based in this area?”

  “No idea. If I had to guess, I’d say they’re waiting for morning so they can catch a plane somewhere. The hotel isn’t far from the airport.”

  “So it’s possible they still have the obelisk with them?”

  “Unless they handed it off to somebody else, yeah. But we’d better hurry.” She narrowed her eyes. “You sure you’re up for this? If you keel over in the middle of the operation, I can’t promise I’ll be able to save you again.”


  Stone wasn’t sure he was, but at this point he didn’t have a lot of options. All the people he would normally call for help weren’t available, so it was up to him. “I’ll make it. We’ve got to do this.”

  “Okay. Let’s go, then. We’ll take my car. It’s less conspicuous, and I don’t trust you to drive.”

  “We’ll have to, anyway—mine’s still parked down by University Perk. If they haven’t towed it yet.”

  “So,” Eleanor said as they drove down 280 toward San Jose. “Tell me about this obelisk. Why is everybody after it?”

  “They didn’t tell you?” Stone sat with his cheek pressed against the passenger-side window, conserving his energy and watching the traffic. By now it was just after five a.m., the leading edge of the brutal Bay Area morning commute. So far, they were still moving at a decent speed in the HOV lane.

  “I didn’t care before. It was just a job. But now…I feel like I want to know. I assume it’s some kind of big-deal magical doodad.”

  “It’s a magic blocker. And a powerful one.”

  “Blocker?” She glanced his way. “You mean it can mess up magic? Stop it from working?”

  “Yes. That’s how they caught me. They tricked me and your employer by impersonating both of us and setting up a meeting between us.” He tilted his head. “His body wasn’t in that vacant lot too, was it?”

  “No. I didn’t see any other bodies. Maybe they dumped him somewhere else. I’m sure they’ll spill when they’re questioned.”

  He nodded. He still felt bad about Richard’s fate, especially when he remembered assuring the other mage they’d both survive. “Anyway…yes, it’s very powerful when the two pieces are combined—the pyramid and the base part—to form the obelisk. Powerful enough to completely interfere with my magic.”

  “Ah, I see now. That’s how they managed to hold you.”

  “Yes. It was quite unsettling.”

  “So, what are you going to do with it if you get it back?”

  He thought about it. He didn’t know yet, not ultimately. “I’ll work that out once we have it.”