As hard as I try not to be stupid, I’d followed trace into a dead-end trap and then made a ridiculous assumption. I’d been too focused on finding my prey, and now I was paying the price. I deserved to get dead. Not that I was going to go down easy.
I reached into my pocket and fingered the various glass and metal balls I carried. I gripped a steel bearing, about the size of a good-sized grape. I activated it with a pulse of power, feeling the ripple of magic roll through me and out. A null field surrounded me. Nothing magic could penetrate the field until the null’s power zeroed out. If any of Randall’s bombs hit inside the null’s radius, they would be snuffed out.
Bullets, however, were an entirely different story.
I zigzagged back and forth in case he decided to stop and shoot. Given how accurate his bomb-throwing skills were, I expected he was a decent shot as well. The rumble of the car came closer, and I knew I was just about out of time.
I couldn’t see a damned thing that would help me. I was stuck in a narrow chute, with fences to the sides of me and trouble crawling up my ass. I couldn’t outrun a car or a bullet. Stopping would only lead to them killing me faster. They seemed to be in a shoot-first-ask-questions-later sort of mood.
I blew through the intersection without looking for traffic. I was on a slight downhill grade now and gaining a little bit of speed. My legs were just getting warmed up, and despite my having to zig and zag, I was keeping ahead of Randall, who’d begun to lose steam. Up ahead I could see brick buildings where the trees thinned. There was a little shopping area there, I remembered. A neighborhood gathering place, with a common area, a family grocery store, an Italian restaurant, a little movie theater, a donut shop, and I forgot what else. Most importantly, there were people there.
I wasn’t going to make it unless I got rid of the goons chasing me in the car. Behind me the engine revved and tires squealed again. I glanced back over my shoulder. A green car sat in the middle of the intersection. A big SUV had swerved to miss it and had turned down the opposite direction. It was working furiously on getting turned around on the narrow road, but the deep drainage culverts on either side were slowing it down. Men leaned out the window swearing and yelling, and several shots popped off into the air.
Randall was still after me. Only now he’d pulled his gun and was setting up to shoot. My heart thudding, I jumped into high gear, jerking back and forth and hoping he wouldn’t hit me.
A bullet struck the ground ten feet ahead of me on the right. My brain went white. An adrenaline bomb exploded in my chest and panic took over. I dove into the nearest culvert, skidding down on my ass and back to the bottom. Roots and tough branches tore my jacket and shredded my hands. The steel null went bouncing off into nowhere.
I landed on tumbled rocks the size of my head. I scrambled up despite the pain blossoming in my left ankle and knee. I clambered over the uneven rocks, gripping weeds on either side for balance. I could hear footsteps above as Randall ran to catch up with me. That’s when I finally got lucky.
On the left, under the road, was a pipe big enough to walk through bent over. It emptied into another culvert. That one ran fifteen or twenty feet down to another drain covered by a steel grate. On my right was a runoff gully from the estate above. Fence bars blocked it, but there was room at the bottom to scooch under, if I sucked in my gut.
I scrabbled at some rocks and pulled them out of the way, then lay on my back to pull myself up under the bottom of the gate. I wasn’t going to make it. I unzipped my coat, sure that at any moment Randall would look down and see me. He was about twenty-five feet back, looking down into the steep ditch. Weeds and scrub bushes blocked his view. The SUV roared up behind him.
“Where’s the bitch?” a woman demanded. “Did you get her?”
“She went to ground in the ditch,” Randall said.
I shoved my coat through the bars and then started to wriggle under. The bars were rusty and rubbed red on my skin and clothes. Rocks cut into my back. I ignored them, shoving with my heels and elbows as my chest cleared the fence. I’m curvy. That means I have boobs. Luckily, they mashed enough to let me through. After that, I squirmed and dragged myself the rest of the way in, pulling my coat back on. I still wasn’t out of the woods. Randall could still see me if he looked in the right spot. I need to find cover.
“You’d better find her.” A male voice threatened this time.
“I get paid to keep people out, not hunt them down,” Randall said, glaring at his companions.
Someone got out of the car. I didn’t waste time looking back. The runoff gully made me a sitting duck. The sides were soft dirt covered in dry pine needles from the trees growing above. I had no handholds, and my knee and ankle screamed every time I tried to crawl up.
“You get paid to do what we tell you to do. If you don’t, you’ll find yourself snacking on my bullets, you understand me, security guard? Find the girl and kill her.”
I chanced a look back. I could only see Randall’s legs and the shoulders and waist of the guy threatening him. It looked like he was prodding his handgun into Randall’s chest.
Randall slapped the gun aside and shoved the smaller man back. “Don’t threaten me, Burke. I’ll cut your balls off and wear them for earrings.”
I had to smile. I was almost beginning to like Randall. Sure, he was trying to kill me, but he had style. I went back to crawling up the gully. I put my back against the steep slant and started walking myself up, bracing my feet on the other side. I dug my hands deep into the soil to find traction, and soon developed a rhythm.
I climbed as quietly as I could. Luckily, the soft soil and the loud voices covered for me. Unfortunately, my pursuers couldn’t fight forever.
“Would the two of you shut the fuck up and get back to finding the girl? We’re screwed if she gets away.” It was the woman again.
“Like she knows anything,” Randall’s attacker said. “She’s a beggar.”
“Or she’s not and someone’s on to us. You want to take the chance?”
There was no reply to that.
“Check the other side,” Randall said. “There’s a storm drain under the road. She probably went through. I’ll keep going on this side.”
I was about level with the road and near the top of the bank inside the fence when he stopped to look down right across from me. I froze. I was in the dappled shadows beneath the trees and my coat was a dusty green. My jeans were covered in dirt. I couldn’t have been better camouflaged. All the same, I knew that if Randall looked up, he’d see me.
“Any sign of her?” the woman hollered from across the road.
I could see her now. She had short brown hair and a stocky body. She carried an Uzi, or something like it, with a sling strap over her shoulder. One man sat in the driver’s seat of the SUV, which was slowly rolling along. The man who’d threatened Randall must have jumped down into the culvert on the other side of the road. Thank goodness I’d climbed out of view; otherwise, he’d have seen me through the pipe.
“Not down here,” he answered. His voice echoed.
“What about you, Randall?” She swung around to look at him.
He stood with his back to her, his gun at his side, looking straight at me. My heart stopped, and I didn’t breathe. He turned away. “Nothing here. We’d better step quick. She might be on her way into town.”
“Shit.” The woman broke into a jog, and the group moved on.
I struggled the rest of the way up to the top and flung myself backward, my legs dangling over the edge of the bank. I felt like throwing up. Why had Randall let me go?
I didn’t have a clue, but I was going to have to pay him back, because I was pretty sure he was going to catch hell for this, if they didn’t kill him.
I fumbled in my pants pocket for my cell phone. It came out with a handful of dirt and pine needles.
I shook it off and keyed in my passcode. I had one ghosting call left. Sean had set them up for me, no charge, when he found out what I used them for. His contribution to saving kids. The spell allowed me to call Price directly without him being able trace the call back to me.
I activated the spell and waited for him to come on the line. He answered on the second ring.
“Price,” he growled.
“Look for the Squires at the end of Sienna Avenue in Midtown,” I said. The ghosting spell disguised my voice for me. “The mansion at the dead end. Hurry.”
I hung up. I wanted to curl up on my side and just sleep, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet—figuratively or literally. I was trespassing. I had to get out of here before whoever owned the place discovered me and decided to tear me limb from limb. Welcome to Diamond City, where private property means stay out or get dead.
I ended up following in the same direction Randall and his companions had gone. I climbed higher into the trees so I couldn’t be seen from the road. Going the other way would take me back to the guardhouse I’d passed. I wasn’t in the mood to chance that.
I climbed up a low hill and eventually found myself facing another fence. On the other side was someone’s backyard. Beyond that was the shopping area I’d been aiming for. The curtains on the back windows of the two-story house were open, and I could hear piano music. A golden retriever poked his head out of a doghouse on the deck, warm breath pluming in the air. Not a good place to escape my prison.
I still hadn’t seen or heard any alarms or signs of imminent attack, so I decided to risk waiting out Price. I went down the fence, ignoring the retriever, who finally noticed me and bounded across the yard, barking furiously.
I passed three more houses and found myself at the corner of the property. On the other side was a foot or two of flat land before a twenty-foot straight drop into the culvert. I sighed. Getting out of here was going to be just about as difficult as getting in had been.
I examined the fence. Glyphs had been etched into the undersides of the crossbars. Fuck me. I’m not sure what they’d do if I touched the fence. It depended on what sort of talent had infused them with magic, but no matter what, I wasn’t getting over without nulling it. The magic where I’d come under must have been disrupted by years of running water and the rust on the fence. I had to go back there.
I hadn’t gone far when a line of black-and-whites whizzed by on the road below. Their lights flashed, but they had no sirens. The third car was one of the new black Camaros. The windows were tinted dark, but I was sure Price was at the wheel. I broke into a jog. Getting down the gully where I’d climbed up was much easier than getting up.
I slid down on my butt, the deep bed of needles protecting me. Landing was more painful, with my twisted ankle and banged-up knee.
Once again I took off my coat to get under the fence, after digging out a few more rocks to make the process easier. Once underneath, I hunch-walked through the storm drain to the other side of the road. I was tempted to follow the cop cars and see what happened, but I didn’t want Price to notice me. He was far from stupid. He’d know I’d found Nancy Jane and her mom, and he’d want to know how.
I couldn’t let him or anyone else know how powerful I really was. I had no doubt his boss, Gregg Touray, would snatch me up in a minute. He had a decent-sized syndicate and was working hard to shut down the rampant violence and reunite the fragmented Tyet factions. Touray tended to protect his own and the hell with everyone else. Don’t get me wrong—he wasn’t the bloodiest of the Tyet bosses, but he sure as hell was no angel. I wasn’t interested in becoming anybody’s puppet, and as long as I was a relative nobody on the Tyet food chain, I had free rein to find out who’d killed my mother and what had happened to my father. Not that I was making any headway. I had zero clues.
My mother was murdered when I was five. One day she was there, the next she wasn’t. Like me, she was a tracer. Unlike me, she wasn’t crazy powerful. At least, not that I’m aware of. All I know about her is what I remember. After she died, Dad boxed up everything that belonged to her and put it into storage. It was all ruined in a fire that burned the place down a few years later. Dad never talked about her. It was like she didn’t exist—except a couple years later, he married my stepmom, Mel, and she could have been my mother’s sister. Same red hair and green eyes, same joy, same warm heart. After my dad went missing on my sixteenth birthday, Mel and my half-sister Taylor and my stepbrothers are all I have left. We’re family—as tight as blood—but I wake every morning wondering who killed my mother. And then there’s the mystery of my father. His trace had simply vanished the day he disappeared. I don’t mean he nulled out and stopped leaving a trail, I mean that there was no trace of him left. Like he’d never even existed. What the hell had happened?
That question drove me. He had so many answers to so many questions about my mom and about me. When I was growing up and I asked anything he didn’t want to tell me, he always put me off, saying I wasn’t ready.
I’d never been ready enough for him.
I realized I was clenching my teeth. Sometimes I wondered if I wanted my dad to have disappeared of his own free will or if I’d rather that he’d been kidnapped. I was torn between missing him with all my heart and a bottomless anger that he’d left me, and not only that, but he’d never bothered to tell me what happened to my mom or why someone would kill her. I always knew it had something to do with me. I don’t know why, but I know it’s a fact. Like water being wet and fire being hot. No doubts.
I never did get groceries. I was too sore, and I looked like I’d been dragged behind a car for a few blocks. I texted Patti to tell her I was okay and that I was on my way home. She ordered me to come to the diner for dinner, but I told her I’d come in for breakfast, then shut my phone down. I needed to be alone. I’d watch the news and make sure Price had found Nancy Jane and her mother. Alive, I thought. He was going to find them alive. After that, I’d soak away the day’s soreness and bruises in my bathtub. I’d had some close calls, and I knew that pretty soon it was going to hit me. I could have died. Randall could have shot me—twice. That didn’t take into account the bombs he’d been throwing. I’d been lucky. The trouble was, luck had a tendency to run out. I had a feeling mine was running on empty, and I really didn’t want to know what was coming around the bend.
Chapter 3
A WEEK LATER, I walked into the Diamond City Diner a little after two in the afternoon. I’d spent the night before following a carpet cleaner who was stealing supplies from his boss. I’d slept a few hours after tracking him to his storage unit, then turned in my report and collected my fee. I hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before, and I was starving.
Patti glared at me when I walked in. “You look like shit.”
I had no grounds to argue. I hadn’t been sleeping well the last week. Nancy Jane and her mother had been rescued alive. I should have been over the moon. Instead, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong. I spent hours reinforcing my nulls, and I’d taken to carrying my gun everywhere I went, along with the Chinese baton I hid in my sleeve. I usually kept one or the other on me, but tended to leave them behind when I went shopping or to visit my family. Not anymore.
“Thanks. I spent hours on this look.” I was wearing my hair in a ponytail, with my usual uniform of jeans, hiking boots, a long-sleeved shirt, a heavy jacket, a hat, and gloves.
“It’s cold out there. Got anything to eat?” I asked, unzipping my coat and stuffing my gloves and hat into a pocket before hanging it on a hook fastened to the bench of my usual booth. A snowstorm had moved in, the first of several to come, all piled up like cars stuck on an LA freeway. By the time they were done with Diamond City, we’d be buried.
“Hold your horses, Laraby.” Patti glared at the dentist who was waving a check at her. “I’ll be there in a second.” She grabbed a clean coffee cup of
f the counter and set it down in front of me and filled it. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
Ten minutes later, she returned carrying a white oval plate mounded with an omelet, hashbrowns, pancakes, and a half-dozen slices of bacon. I didn’t want an omelet, but Patti tended to get me what she thought I needed, not what I wanted. It was loaded with vegetables and cheese. Tasty, but not the burger and fries I was craving. Arguing wasn’t going to do me any good. I’d eat what I was given and try to look happy about it.
“Give me a few minutes,” she said. “We should slow down soon and I’ll join you. People are trying to get home before the weather gets too heavy.”
I glanced through the front window. Snow was falling in a thick curtain of fat flakes. Already the ground was white. I was willing to bet there’d be an inch or two on the ground by the time I finished eating. Giving lie to her promise, the door jingled and half a dozen people came in, stomping their feet and dusting the snow off their clothing.
Patti zipped off to help them. I cleared my plate and immediately wanted a nap. I considered heading upstairs. Patti kept a room for me in her apartment. I spent two or three nights a week at the diner, sometimes more, depending on the jobs I had. Right now I didn’t have anything lined up. I was planning to hit the grocery store and go home and hole up until the storms blew themselves out.
I took my dishes to the bus tub, waving at Ben, Patti’s partner in the diner, through the kitchen window. I grabbed a pot of coffee and filled my empty cup before sliding back into my seat. I didn’t bother looking up when the bell on the door rang again. I was checking the weather radar on my phone.
A shape loomed over me suddenly, and Clay Price slid into the seat opposite me. My mouth dropped open. As far as I knew, he’d never even set foot in the diner before.
Trace of Magic: 1 (The Diamond City Magic Novels) Page 3
