by R. L. King
“Hold still and don’t be such a baby. You really should have a few stitches in this. Go get it looked at after we’re done here.”
“I’ll find Verity. She can heal it for me.” Without his T-shirt in the way he could see it better now: it was about three inches long, deeper in the middle than at the edges.
“Well, don’t wait too long. It’s not life-threatening or anything, but it’s not a cat scratch.” Blum patted the wound dry, then covered it with a gauze pad and taped it down. “That should hold it for a while, if you don’t move that shoulder around too much.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Stone didn’t bother trying to pull the T-shirt back over his head, but instead settled for his coat.
“We really should go talk about this. I want to know what the hell went on. But you should take care of that.”
“It’s all right.” Already a good bit of the pain had faded after Blum’s ministrations. He followed the detective back to where they’d parked their cars and leaned against his. “There isn’t much to tell. I didn’t find him.”
“Do you know why? I thought your tracking spell was fairly foolproof.”
“Normally it is. That’s what’s troubling me. Tracking spells usually fail for one of three reasons: either the subject is out of the coverage area—in which case I’d still get something, even if only pointing in the right direction; he’s under some sort of magical protection, like a ward or a personal shield; or he’s dead. And I’m almost certain Mr. Halstrom isn’t dead.”
“You said you didn’t think he was much of a mage—could he protect himself from you? You’re pretty powerful, right?”
“I am. I didn’t use the strongest version of my spell, but normally I wouldn’t have expected any trouble. I—” He stopped as memories flooded in of the end of his abortive attempt, returning like the details half-recalled dream triggered by a single thought. He slumped against his car as he pictured the strange, swirling yellow-green light and made a connection he hadn’t made before.
“What is it?” Blum leaned in, looking nervous. “You okay? You’re not gonna faint, are you?”
Stone waved him off. “No…I’m fine. But I’ve got to go, Blum. We can talk about this later.”
“But—”
“I’ll call you. Tomorrow.” He pulled out his keys, pressed the fob to open the BMW’s trunk, and levitated a six-pack of Anchor Steam from inside. “Here’s your beer.”
Blum, not expecting that, caught the box awkwardly. “Stone—you can’t—”
“I have to go, Detective.” Stone was already sliding behind the wheel, taking care not to move his shoulder any more than necessary.
“Stone!”
Stone didn’t reply. As he drove off, he could see Blum, his aura brimming with frustration, glaring after him from the parking lot.
He hated to leave like that—Blum had, after all, provided a lot of help in this matter and he had every right to know what was going on—but he didn’t have a choice. The memory of what had occurred during the tracking ritual had rocked him to his core, confirming what had, up until now, only been a suspicion.
Ben Halstrom and the extradimensional rift were connected, but Stone had no idea how.
All he knew was that the connection almost certainly made Halstrom a lot more unpredictable, and probably a lot more dangerous.
As he drove, he pulled out his phone and punched Verity’s number. The clock on the BMW’s console read 10:23—it was possible she and Jason hadn’t left for the party yet. If he could get hold of her before she did, maybe he could head over to San Francisco and ask her to heal his shoulder before she left. He had a lot of thinking to do tonight, and hoped Verity and Jason’s lead panned out better than his had.
The phone rang several times, then Verity’s familiar voicemail message came on.
Bugger. She’s probably already there.
“Verity—it’s me. Listen—I need your help when you’ve got a bit of time. It’s not urgent. Call me when you get this, and let me know how the party goes.”
He tossed the phone on the passenger seat and sighed. No point in going to San Francisco if he didn’t know where Verity and Jason were headed. Might as well go home. The wound wasn’t severe, and once his head cleared he could use the practice with his healing magic.
The more important issue was Ben Halstrom. He was out there somewhere, apparently either he or the rift didn’t want him to be found, and Stone had no idea what he was planning to do next.
33
“We’re gonna stand out like sore thumbs at this party, right?” Jason said.
They were in Verity’s SUV, driving toward west Oakland. “I won’t,” she pointed out with a wicked grin. “And if you’d stop acting so uptight, you won’t either.”
She wore her leather biker jacket, a black miniskirt, torn fishnet stockings, and high-heeled black leather boots. She hadn’t gone clubbing—not this kind of clubbing—in several months, and her once-familiar party clothes felt strange now, like they were part of a life she didn’t inhabit anymore. She punched Jason’s arm. “Just act like you belong and like maybe you might be familiar with the music, and you’ll be fine. Oh, and for God’s sake, don’t try to dance.”
Jason grumbled but didn’t reply. He wore a tight black T-shirt and ripped jeans, which Verity had assured him would blend in. “You sure she’s gonna be there?”
“That’s what Lara said. Her friend told her about it—you know, the one who told us about Daisy in the first place?”
“I’m surprised she didn’t just head over there herself. Aren’t the Harpies all gunning for Daisy because of what she did to Greta?”
Verity nodded. “Yeah. It was a pretty uncomfortable conversation, but I think I convinced her that there’s more to this than what happened to Greta.”
“I hope so. It’s gonna be hard enough finding Daisy and persuading her to talk to us, without the Harpies showin’ up.”
The party was in a warehouse near the waterfront. They could hear the pounding of the music from more than a block away, and by the time they reached the building itself they got caught in a slow-moving flow of cruising vehicles along with groups of partiers spilling out into the street to smoke and socialize. It took them another twenty minutes before they got free of the crush and found a parking space three blocks away. Verity put a disregarding spell on the SUV. Even from here the pounding bass from the party drew them in the right direction. “This is bringing back memories,” she said as she ambled along. “Remember the first time we fought the Evil?”
“Yeah, it’s a little hard to forget. Let’s hope this turns out better.”
Jason strode beside her, and she noticed he was paying attention all around them as if expecting someone to jump out at them. It wasn’t obvious—most people wouldn’t have noticed it at all—but a combination of his high-alert aura and her lifelong familiarity with him made it easy to spot.
“Calm down,” she told him, chuckling. “We’re not gonna get mugged or anything. And even if we do, we can handle it.”
“I know. Old habits die hard, though.”
To his credit, he made a real effort to settle some of his vigilance. The music grew louder as they approached, competing with the pounding tunes coming from the various cruising vehicles. As they got closer, they began to pass more groups. Verity was pleased to see that, though most of them were teenagers, there were enough people her age or even older so nobody paid much attention to either of them.
“Where are we even gonna look?” Jason asked as they approached the entrance. “Lot of people here, and we barely know what Daisy looks like.”
“I figured we could just cruise around checking people out. I’ll use magical sight to see if I can spot any magic traces.”
“That could take all night. Won’t all the auras mess with you?”
“Yeah—it’ll be harder than at the Arena because I’m not above it, but we’ll work with what we have. There aren’t nearly as many people here, either.
”
Nobody paid them much attention as they skirted the dance floor and scanned the faces there and in the area near the bar. Most of them were either in groups talking or minding their own business. A few times somebody gave either Verity or Jason the eye, but they merely smiled and moved on before the person could catch them.
They were making their third circuit past the bar when Verity gripped Jason’s arm. “Hey—I think that might be her.”
“What? Where?”
“Over there, talking to the guy with the purple hair. See?”
Jason squinted into the darkness. “How do you know? She looks like half the other teenage girls in here.”
“I see traces of magic around her. She must have used some recently. Come on—let’s get closer. Maybe I can get a better read.”
They worked their way toward her, moving with apparent aimlessness so they didn’t draw attention. Verity couldn’t keep magical sight up constantly, since the tight-packed collection of pulsing, vibrant auras made it impossible to navigate that way, but she paused every few steps to re-orient herself. So far, thankfully, Daisy hadn’t moved. The guy with the purple hair drifted off, replaced by two teen girls in skintight dresses. The three of them gathered into a tight knot, laughing and checking out the crowd.
“Wait here,” Verity said, pressing Jason’s arm. “Let me get a little closer. We don’t want to spook her or we’ll never find her again.”
“Yeah. Just don’t get out of sight.” He nearly had to yell, leaning in close to Verity’s ear to be heard over the pounding hip-hop music.
Verity pulled a disregarding spell around herself. It probably wasn’t necessary, since Daisy had no idea what she looked like, but better to be safe. Moving with the music, she sidestepped several more people until she stood less than ten feet from her target and her two companions.
Up close, they looked even younger. The one Verity suspected of being Daisy couldn’t have been more than sixteen, though she tried to hide it with dramatic makeup and a slinky minidress. All three held plastic cups of beer. Verity couldn’t help some uncomfortable flashbacks to herself when she was that age, still under the influence of the Evil and trying to make something like a normal life while her head was in turmoil. She wondered what it must be like for Daisy, and wondered if some of the magic traces around her were from her attempts to look older and more sophisticated.
She watched the three girls for several more moments. They laughed and talked, but their auras suggested their conversation was superficial. People didn’t usually share deep thoughts at parties like this—hell, it would be nearly impossible to hear well enough to do it. She glanced at Jason, who was still watching her intently while pretending to be checking out the other side of the room, then back at the girls. She adjusted her disregarding spell, adding an illusion to make her look closer to Daisy’s age, and then strode over in their direction.
“Hey!” she said brightly. She pointed at one of the other girls. “Sorry to bother you, but your dress is amazing, girl! You gotta tell me where you got it!”
The girl she spoke to and her friend looked pleased at the attention, but Daisy’s aura flared nervously.
“Listen,” Verity went on, settling her gaze on a handsome, dark-haired boy halfway across the room. “See that guy over there? The one in the Warriors jersey? Don’t look!”
All three girls cast surreptitious glances in that direction. “Yeah…” said the second of the girls with Daisy. “What about him?”
She leaned in closer and adopted a sly grin. “He thinks you’re hot, but he’s too shy to come over here with you all in a group like this. You know how guys are.”
The two girls exchanged glances and laughed nervously. “No shit?”
“Yeah. I’ve been watching him giving you the eye for like ten minutes. I’m totally serious!”
“I don’t know…” said the other one.
“Trust me,” Verity said, nodding toward him. To her delight, he chose that moment to look in their direction, just as one of the girls glanced his way. “See? He wants to hang out with you. He’s just too chickenshit to come over here and ask. You gonna let him get away?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Daisy’s unease growing. “Go on,” she urged. “You know you’re gonna regret it if you don’t.”
It probably wouldn’t have worked if the girls hadn’t been pleasantly buzzed, but they giggled again and one of them shrugged. “Yeah, sure, why not? Catch you later, Daze,” she said with an airy wave, and then the two of them were gone, slinking through the crowd in the direction of the boy, who’d drifted away again.
Verity smiled to herself. Daze. She’d been right—she’d finally found the elusive Daisy.
The girl pinned Verity with a suspicious look. “Do I know you?”
“No. But can we talk a minute? I have something you need to hear.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her aura sparked with unease. “Hear what? Who are you?”
Verity studied her, easily seeing past the magical attempts at disguise. Daisy was trying hard to look like she wasn’t nervous, but she couldn’t hide it. It made sense—street kids with magical talent, if they ever discovered it at all, usually didn’t get very good training. “I’m a friend, and we need to talk. Will you come with me?”
“I ain’t goin’ anywhere with you.” The vague unease blossomed into full-blown fear. “Leave me alone. I gotta go.” She spun away.
Verity used subtle magic to block her path. “Look—you’re in danger, and I want to help you. Don’t run away.” She took a chance: “I’m like you. I know what you can do.”
That stopped her, if only for a second. “What I can do? What’re you talkin’ about?” Her aura, however, belied her words—she knew exactly what Verity was talking about.
Verity leaned in close and dropped her magical disguise. “Magic, Daisy. I can do it too. And I’m not kidding—you’re in danger. I can help, if you’ll just talk to me for a minute. We don’t have to leave here if you don’t want to, but you have to listen.”
Daisy swallowed hard and turned back. Her gaze darted around like a small animal caught in a trap. “I don’t know. I gotta—”
Verity scanned the area too, looking for somewhere she could lead the skittish girl where she wouldn’t feel threatened, but where they’d be at least somewhat away from the crushing crowd of dancers. As she did, she spotted two tall figures pushing through a group of teenagers and heading in their direction.
Oh, fuck—it’s Lara and Zel!
Daisy must have sensed something. “What is it? What’s going on?”
Damn, damn, damn! She should have known better than to think the Harpies wouldn’t pursue any lead against the people who’d hurt Greta. How many more of them were here now? Was Hezzie? Was Tani? Hell, was Kyla here somewhere?
She gripped Daisy’s arm. “We gotta go. Now.”
Daisy jerked free. “Let me go!”
“Look—there are people after you. And if they find you, I won’t be able to help you.” She leaned closer until her mouth was inches from Daisy’s ear. “It’s about what happened at the Arena.”
That did it. Daisy’s light-brown skin went ashen gray and her eyes widened. “No…”
“Trust me—I can help, if you let me.” Verity looked up again, trying to spot Zel and Lara in the crowd. They were closer now. And then, to her horror, almost as if she knew Verity was there, Lara’s scanning gaze locked with Verity’s. A second later she noticed Daisy, and her expression hardened. She grabbed Zel’s arm and pointed.
“Oh, fuck…” Verity muttered. She looked around for Jason, but didn’t see him immediately. Making a fast decision, she locked her hand around Daisy’s wrist. “They’re coming for you, Daisy. I’m getting you out of here. Argue later.”
Without waiting for the other girl to reply, she cast an invisibility spell over both of them and lifted them off the floor.
“What the hell?” Daisy shrieked, struggling to pull hersel
f free. She was pulling a lot harder than she should have been able to with nothing but muscle strength.
“Don’t do that, unless you want to fall!” Verity jerked her arm and continued lifting them. “Even if you can stop the fall, you won’t stop those two. There are probably more of them here!” Daisy’s magic must be stronger than Verity suspected—which made sense, if she was the one who’d tossed Greta over. “Just hold still!”
Apparently Daisy finally caught on to what a bad situation she was in, because she stopped struggling. Verity risked a glance at the crowd, after a second spotting Zel and Lara looking around for them. Both of them were obviously pissed. Relieved that she faced those two, neither of whom had any magical or other supernatural tracking ability, rather than someone like Tani or Kyla, she dragged Daisy upward. It seemed easier now—either the girl’s lack of struggling helped, or else she was using her own levitation spell to assist them. Either way, Verity had little trouble lifting them both up and through the open skylight.
The roof, flat and wide, stretched away from them on all sides. Verity lowered herself and Daisy down to the dirty surface, scanning with magical sight to make sure nobody else was up here with them.
As soon as she was free of Verity’s grip, Daisy backed away, her gaze never leaving her. “Who…are you? What do you want?”
“That’s…complicated, and hard to explain.” Verity let herself relax, just a little. From their current vantage point, she could see anyone approaching them with plenty of time to react. Now she just had to get Daisy to stay still long enough to talk. “But as you can see, I do know about magic. And I know you can do it.”
“How…do you know that? How did you find me?”
“A friend told me you might be here. We’ve been looking for you for a long time, Daisy.”
Daisy looked like she might bolt again, but for now she settled for backing up a couple more steps. “Why? You said…it was because of the Arena.” Tears appeared in her eyes. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. None of us did. I promise. Nobody wanted anybody to get hurt.”
