by Tess Adair
“Do you see him?”
Jude immediately looked where Logan pointed, and together they observed the pale, pimply face of Todd Phillips, smiling broadly as he slid into one of the booths along the wall and disappeared from view.
“Stay close,” said Logan, louder than she would have liked, to make sure Jude could hear her.
Jude nodded, and with that, Logan pushed off from the pillar, edging closer to the booth in question. The wormed her way through the crowd with precision, making sure to keep herself hidden behind the bodies of other people, and hope Jude followed suit as best they could. Her saving grace was that Todd Phillips would have no way of recognizing her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t notice someone watching him.
Another cement pillar stood a few feet away from the booth holding Phillips, and Logan went right for it. Once Jude stood beside her again, safely concealed from his view, she tried her luck and peeked around the corner at the booth.
As far as she could tell, the booths had all been upholstered in white vinyl or leather, so as the lighting shifted colors to an iridescent purple, the booth turned eerily purple as well. She scanned the faces, all tinged an otherworldly color, looking to see if she could spot Phillips’ next victim—
Her eyes landed on a familiar face, and she froze.
Snapping back behind against the base of the column, hoping to gather her thoughts, she took a deep breath.
“Fuck,” she muttered on exhale, her spine rigid against the stone as her eyes shut in frustration. “This is not happening. This is not…fuck…”
“What’s going on?” asked Jude, tapping Logan insistently on the arm and leaning in far too close to her ear. Logan sighed.
“Alana Huntsman is in the booth with him.”
Jude’s eyes immediately went wide with shock, but Logan didn’t have time to pause. She made herself look around the column again, knowing that at the very least, she had to keep them in her sights.
How did I not see this coming? she asked herself, her panic already giving way to rage. She gave me the information I didn’t have—and I gave her the information she didn’t have—
She could almost see Alana Hunstman’s plan written on her face, though she’d done a good job of pasting on a fake smile. It looked like—
Like she was hitting on Todd Phillips.
In fact, before Logan’s very eyes, the two got up and exited the booth, and began heading back toward the entrance, hand in hand.
Making sure to keep moving bodies between herself and her target, Logan set off after them, tugging on Jude’s hand to let her know to follow, too.
Though they dodged and weaved through the other bodies as quickly as they could, it felt like trying to run through a swamp. The crowd had only gotten thicker and more chaotic with every moment that passed, and the club itself seemed to make it worse. A fresh haze of smoke drifted down around them, and the pulsing purple lights suddenly gave way to red.
Losing sight of them for a few moments, Logan pushed ever harder, now making record time through the tightly packed bodies.
Before Logan could recalibrate her senses again, they had reached the end of the long hallway entrance—but Todd and Alana were nowhere to be seen.
Logan whirled back around and met Jude’s eyes.
“I have to go after them, right now,” she said, her words pouring out of her at an impressive rate. “Don’t come after us until you’ve found Alexei, got it?”
Jude barely had time to start nodding her agreement before Logan was halfway down the hall, heading for the cool night air once again.
Bursting out of the club doors, Logan practically flew into the street beyond. When she couldn’t immediately see where they had gone, she paused. She closed her eyes and relaxed her other senses, allowing nose and ears to take in everything they could. It only took her a moment to hear it: the sounds of someone struggling against someone else, of feet sliding reluctantly down concrete.
There. Maybe two blocks away. How did they get so far so fast?
She couldn’t stop to think about it, of course. She took off running, straight in the direction of the sound. She turned down the alleyway it originated from, but there was no one in sight. At the far end of the alley, she saw a tall fence cutting the alleyway in half. No normal human could have cleared it while carrying another, struggling person alongside them—and yet, was that not the sound she followed on the other side?
As she considered whether she might have followed the wrong sound-trail, she heard a scream.
Damn. Hate it when I’m right.
She sprinted down the alleyway, slowing only when she reached the blockade. There she bent down low and launched herself skyward. She cleared the fence with ease, dropping to a matching crouch on the other side.
She was greeted with the image of Alana Huntsman trying her best to break free of some monster’s grasp. With a blink, Logan realized it wasn’t a monster at all—it was Todd Phillips.
Only…was it Todd Phillips? His face appeared to share Todd’s shape and pallor, but black veins had spread out from his eyes, and an inhuman grin twisted his mouth into a parody. His shoulders, arms, and chest had swelled out of proportion, bulging with muscles and dotted with the same strange latticework of veins that infected his face. He was a sight to behold.
A moment of truth for every man.
Her mind spun into action as that line reverberated through her. Was this the Phillips her vision had warned her about? Was this monstrous form…his reward from the master? She supposed there was only one way to find out.
“Todd Phillips?” she asked, coming to a standing position to face him.
As he caught sight of her, his lips peeled back in a snarl.
“Get lost,” he hissed, as menacingly as he could. Without loosening his hold on Alana, he feinted at her, as if he thought that might drive home his point.
Logan kept her expression neutral and cold, unaffected by his dramatic display. This required her to keep her focus on him instead of Alana, whose eyes were wide with fear and pain as she pulled uselessly at the arm that held her.
Logan could not risk getting distracted. She kept her own eyes trained on Phillips’ face.
“Oh, I’ll get lost,” she said evenly. “But only after you give me what I came here for.”
Todd Phillips roared in frustration.
“Fuck off,” he managed to growl, before turning away from her and starting toward the open mouth of the alleyway, maybe fifty feet away.
But Logan was too fast for him. Bursting into an inhumanly quick sprint, she popped up right in front of him, blocking off his exit.
“Think of me like a bridge troll,” she told him, her voice obnoxiously cheerful even to her own ears. “You have to play my game before you can pass.”
“Bitch,” he said slowly, like he had some difficulty forming the word the right way, “you better get out of—”
“Fight me!” she announced gleefully, cutting him off.
“What?”
“Fight me!” Grinning, she dropped into a boxer’s stance, hands held loosely in front of her face. “Put the girl down, and fight me! Unless you’re afraid, of course.”
“I’m not afraid of some stupid cunt—”
“Prove it. Fight me.”
He roared in frustration. Logan refused to grimace as he briefly tightened his arm around Alana’s neck even further, before throwing her roughly to the ground. She had no time to check if Alana was all right, of course, because Todd immediately launched at her.
Of course, unlike him, Logan already knew what to expect. She dodged him easily, and, unaccustomed to controlling his new strength, he slammed into the brick wall. Before he could completely recover, she threw a punch right at his head, hard enough to bounce it off that same wall.
For a moment, she paused, holding a defensive stance as she gauged his physical reaction. Groggily, he pushed away from the wall—and lunged for her.
She danced out of the way agai
n, but by now, he knew better than to let his momentum carry him into another crash. He turned on his heel and swung his arms wide, grabbing for her. This time, he caught hold of her arm and used his incredible strength to spin her into the opposite wall.
She landed with a crash. Though she managed to shield her head, the bulk of her torso absorbed the hit, knocking the wind out of her.
Well, this is certainly one way to fight.
Possibly believing that Logan’s injuries were more serious than they actually were, Todd Phillips let out an arrogant laugh.
“Stupid bitch,” he said between guffaws, “should have known better than to challenge your superiors, shouldn’t you?”
Slightly amused, Logan raised an eyebrow.
“Pot, kettle,” she said with a shrug, motioning between the two of them. She didn’t expect him to get it.
“You done, bitch?”
“Not quite.”
She stood up slowly, allowing him to believe a moment longer that her injuries were severe. Then she leapt forward, launching herself into a roundhouse kick that smacked him twice in the face. Not pausing a moment, Logan spun around again, this time letting her spikes come out as she punched past his face, her forearm grazing his cheek and drawing blood.
He stumbled backwards, nearly falling down. She suspected he wasn’t used to so much pushback.
She took advantage of his lost concentration and delivered another kick to his head, sending him sprawling to the ground.
As soon as he was down, Logan whirled around, looking for Alana—but Alana was gone.
How is that possible? Logan turned all the way around, looking down the alley in every direction, but the only person she could see was Todd, now whimpering on the ground. Maybe she got away?
Logan took a step forward, thinking she would check the street beyond, when suddenly the Choronzon Key exploded on her back.
For a moment, the world stood still. As she felt the Key burn at her back, she became aware of a third presence in the alley with them—and she knew, in her bones, that it wasn’t Alana—
Then a force came from out of nowhere and blew her backwards, sending her crashing into the heavy-duty trash collector behind her. This time, she didn’t have enough forewarning to protect herself from the crash.
She felt more than one simultaneous crack in her body as she slammed into hard metal. Her vision blurred, and she slid to the ground, her legs rendered temporarily incapable of supporting her weight.
In the alley ahead of her, she could see movement, though she couldn’t quite make out what it was. Was it merely Todd Phillips escaping, or was someone else with him?
Did it matter either way?
Alana was gone, and it was all her fault.
Chapter Nine
Bait and Hook
The ride back to Alexei’s apartment was nearly silent. From the persistent pain radiating through her body, Logan guessed that her shoulder had been dislocated and at least one rib had cracked.
Alexei seemed to have picked up on her injuries, based on the repeated surreptitious glances he sent her way throughout the ride. She chose to respond by setting her jaw resolutely and ignoring him.
Finally, they reached his apartment. As soon as he’d shut and locked the door, Alexei began brewing tea.
Logan wanted to ask if he’d taken his crisis management ideas from Knatt, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to make a joke. Instead, she seated herself quietly at the table, brooding over her own mistakes.
I never should have shown her his picture.
Her left hand remained cupped around her right arm at the elbow, holding it in place. She wanted to remove her jacket, but the mere thought of moving her body that way caused her pain. Instead, she kept her arms crossed over her chest, holding everything in. Fortunately for her, she was accustomed to the pose.
This is all my fault.
She glanced over at Jude, who hovered nervously by the counter, clutching an empty mug while she waited for the water to boil. Logan swallowed hard, pushing the pain out of her mind.
“You okay, kid?”
Jude jumped like a startled deer and looked over at her.
“Yeah, I’m good. Are you?”
“I’ll be fine.” Something on her right side throbbed.
If I’d kept my mouth shut, she’d be safe at home right now.
“Well, you look fantastic,” said Alexei sarcastically. He crossed his arms as he gazed at her. “What say I toss you a football?”
“I just need some rest,” said Logan. She pulled up a chair at the table, dropped herself into it without a groan of complaint, and gave him a look that told him to drop it. Though he shrugged in response, she could sense his reluctance.
“So,” he said, clearing his throat, “are you going to tell us what happened in the alleyway?”
Logan’s mind whirled into action, replaying the events for herself at top speed. Knowing that she had to give them something, she forced herself to nod.
“There was a fight,” she said, keeping her affect blank.
“Was that really Alana Huntsman with him?” asked Jude immediately, plopping down into the chair opposite her in her eagerness.
“Yes, it was,” said Logan. Her guilt compelled her to glance at Alexei, but she didn’t let herself. “She’s still alive, as far as I could tell. But he’s definitely got her.”
“And ‘he’ is Todd Phillips?” asked Alexei. “The rich man-child described by his own mother as a pathetic leach?”
Again, Logan nodded.
“He’s not…he’s not the same as he was before,” she said. It sounded more evasive than she meant it.
“Grew a spine, did he?”
“Grew a whole new set of muscles,” said Logan, shrugging without thinking. She winced almost immediately as her ribs screamed in protest. Partly to cover, she kept going. “And some new black veins all over his face and body. It was quite the transformation, from what I saw.”
“You don’t think…”
Alexei trailed off for only a moment, but it was long enough for Jude to cut in.
“But, wait,” she said, “when we saw him in the club, he didn’t look that big. I mean, he looked kinda purple, but so did everyone. Are you saying he changed?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Logan nodded. “And he was a bit clumsy, too, like he wasn’t quite used to being so big and heavy. Which, of course, makes sense…if it’s a cast.”
Alexei’s eyes had grown wide, and he stared at her in disbelief.
“You think he was bound, don’t you?”
“I do.”
Alexei shook his head slowly, still disbelieving. Behind him, the kettle began to whistle, spurring him into action.
Within moments, everyone had a mug of tea in front of them, though Logan’s sat on the table in front of her, untouched. Alexei took his a few feet away from them, choosing to lean against his island counter instead of joining them at the table.
“Uh, guys?” said Jude, glancing between them. “What does it mean that he was bound? Bound how? With what?”
Logan and Alexei exchanged a glance, then Alexei waved his hand dismissively, clearly passing the duty off to her.
“Knatt told you about binding objects, right?” Jude nodded. “Well, it’s a similar concept. You can bind a knife with extra strength to keep it from breaking…or, if you’re way more advanced than that, you can bind a person with extra strength, extra powers.” She paused for a moment, wishing she could consult with Knatt about how much to say before continuing. With a sigh, she pushed on. “Generally, the binding is done to imbue the bound with the power of a demon. That person will then take on some aspect of the demon, like its strength, or its tracking ability, or something else.”
“Oh.” Jude sat back heavily on her chair. “Whoa.”
Pulling her tea closer to her, Jude nodded solemnly over it. She brought it up to her lips for a moment, seemed to think better of it, then blew lightly across the top
instead.
“So, like, can anyone get bound?” she asked, after a moment.
“Well, no.”
“It’s difficult and unpredictable,” said Alexei. “And, more importantly than that, it’s illegal.”
“And, as a process, not without its side-effects,” added Logan cautiously.
“Side-effects?” asked Jude. “Like what?”
“For one, the binding is…kind of literal,” said Logan. “Whoever does the binding creates a permanent bond between themselves and the bound. The bound person will be overcome by their feelings of gratitude and…well, servitude to the person who bound them. The power of those feelings is not absolute, but it is incredibly strong. Bound people…frequently end up forfeiting their lives for their master.”
“Oh. And it’s…permanent, you said?”
“Only death can break it.”
Jude nodded again, possibly too awed to speak out loud. This time, when she brought her tea back up to her lips, she actually drank from it.
Alexei let out a frustrated huff and ran a hand through his dark, curly hair. “Fuck,” he muttered. “I really thought this was gonna be a simple, easy case. Locate some rich kid and collect a check, you know?” He glanced at Logan, and his expression was one of suspicion. “How did you know?”
Reminding herself not to move her body too much, Logan responded with a blank stare.
“Know what?”
“I’ve handled a lot of cases this year,” he said, his tone measured, “and each one was as boring and run-of-the-mill as the last. But then you show up, and suddenly my next run-of-the-mill case involves a shadow crime with fucking demon powers.”
Inwardly, Logan twitched at the phrase fucking demon powers. He wasn’t talking about her, of course. But a part of her felt like he could have been.
A few feet away, he was shaking his head, like that would help the pieces to fall in place. “How did you know?”
“I told you,” she said simply. “I have a psychic friend.”
“Psychics are bullshit.”
“Not this one.”
She met his suspicious gaze and held it. Just as his eyes started to soften, Jude cleared her throat.
