Trace of Magic: 1 (The Diamond City Magic Novels)

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  My dad had said that to me a lot. I was tired of letting other people look after me, though it warmed me more than it should have that Price wanted to. And the truth was, even though I wanted to, I couldn’t trust him. Not with Josh’s life. I shook my head. “I can’t and you know it. I’d like to, but you have loyalties to people who are willing to kill me. You can’t deny it. I believe you want to help me, for now, and I’m grateful for all you’ve done. But a leopard doesn’t change its spots.” And I had secrets that would win him a lot of points with the Tyet.

  He looked away, then back at me, his expression unreadable. “Let’s have a look at the stuff from Josh’s safe,” was all he said.

  He stalked out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving me to follow. I drew a breath and let it out slowly before heading after him. By the time I got upstairs, he was sitting on the couch in his office. He’d pulled the coffee table close and emptied the bag of stuff he’d collected from the office. The other was still zipped up. I sat down on the chair on the opposite side of the table.

  He glanced up from the papers he’d picked up. “These look like they are mostly investment papers. They look aboveboard.”

  I was grateful he was sticking to the subject at hand. “How can you tell?”

  “Nothing seems shorted and no odd overages. That doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Someone good with finances could hide stuff pretty well. What we really need is a forensic accountant.” He tossed the papers aside. “I grabbed a pile of letters.” He waved to indicate the stack of papers on the edge of the table. “They may tell us more. But first let’s see what’s in the bag that he worked so hard to keep hidden.”

  I nodded, and he reached out to unzip it. I picked up one of the letters and scanned it. I went cold.

  “What was the name of that guy you wanted me to trace for you?”

  Price looked up at me. “Corbin Nader. Why?”

  I tossed the page at him. “He knew Josh.”

  He scowled and snatched up the letter and read it, and then read it again. He stood and paced down in front of the windows, deep in thought. What did the guy he wanted me to find have to do with Josh? Clearly it had surprised Price.

  The letter had been pretty innocuous. A confirmation of an account setup and a request for an appointment to discuss Nader’s holdings in more detail.

  Price came to stand by my chair and thrust the letter at me. “Can you get Nader’s trace off this?”

  No, not if I wanted to keep him thinking that I was a hack. “Will this help us find Josh?”

  Something flickered in his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Why are you looking for Nader?”

  “He’s got a connection to a missing woman.”

  “Who?”

  He hesitated.

  “So I’m supposed to trust you, but you don’t trust me?”

  “I don’t want you involved. I don’t want to see you get any more hurt.”

  I wanted to believe him, but he was lying. He was hiding something. I figured I didn’t have a choice. Josh had been in the hands of the haunters for two days now. Between what they might be doing to his mind and what the tinker had already done to his body, he needed help now.

  I opened myself to the trace. Power sluiced into me and ribbons of light fluttered through the air. I clutched the arm of the chair, trying to make the room slow down, but it tilted and started to spin.

  The next thing I know, I’m sitting on Price’s lap on the couch. He’s got a cold washcloth, and he’s sponging it over my face. I pushed his hand away and tried to sit up. He held me still as he searched my face.

  “What happened?” My head throbbed like someone had punched me.

  “You passed out.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh? Care to explain why?” He sounded angry again.

  “No idea. I opened up to the trace and got overloaded.”

  “Has that ever happened to you before?”

  I shook my head, holding myself stiff so I wouldn’t curl up like a kitten on his chest. “I probably overdid it. Using the blood null took a lot of energy and then getting shot . . . I probably just need some sleep.”

  “Haven’t I been telling you so?” He stood up, holding me easily in his arms. He carried me down the hall and laid me on his bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. “Sleep. We can’t go anywhere until the storm lets up early tomorrow. We’ll have a little window before the next one.”

  He spun around and shut the door behind him.

  I stared at the door. My body was stiff as a board. I could smell him on the sheets; I could smell us on the sheets. I wasn’t sleeping in his bed. I didn’t belong there.

  I slid out of the sheets and went back downstairs to his spare room. I crawled into the queen-sized bed and closed my eyes.

  I’M NOT SURE how long I slept. It was still dark when I woke up. I was on my side. A weight lay across my side and something nestled warm against my back. My head was pillowed on Price’s arm. I blinked, feeling his breath against the back of my neck. My heart thudded against my ribs as something like elation swept through me. For a second I felt drunk.

  I lay there, breathing in his scent and reveling in the feel of him. It couldn’t have been more than a minute before I felt tension return to his body. He was awake.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “You’re here,” he said, as if that was a perfectly reasonable explanation. He groaned and turned onto his back, pulling me around to snuggle against his side. “My bed is bigger and a lot more comfortable. You should have stayed there.”

  I put my head on his chest. He held my hand, toying with my fingers.

  “Why did you follow me?”

  “My bed was cold.”

  “Don’t play games. I’m not good at games.”

  He didn’t say anything for a while. I stayed silent, enjoying the feel of him beneath my cheek, the smell of him filling my lungs, and the touch of his fingers on mine.

  “I had to,” he said finally.

  I let that seep in. I had no idea what he meant. There was a crazy, vast satisfaction in having captured his attention and interest. He was the sort of man that didn’t usually look twice at a woman like me. I would have thought Taylor was more his style.

  At the same time, terror curled hard talons in my gut. He was a Tyet man. That in itself was enough reason for me to run and hide as far from him as I could get. Being a cop made it worse. My father had made it very clear from the moment I could first understand—there was no possible happily-ever-after moment for me. I would always have to be on guard; everyone would want a piece of me.

  Believing that had kept me safe my entire life. A traitorous voice whispered, but what if Price is different? Could I risk it? Taking a risk had left Taylor with a broken heart. That same risk could leave me enslaved or dead. I couldn’t afford to be stupid. Yet here I was all snuggled up and happily being stupid.

  “What was in the case from the safe?” I asked, needing a change of subject.

  “I didn’t look. Figured I’d wait for you.” He paused. “You aren’t going to let this go. Balls to the wall to find Josh, is that about right?”

  “I promised Taylor.”

  He sighed. “I thought so.” He tipped me onto my back and looked down at me. In the gloom, I could barely make out the angles of his face or the slight shine of his eyes. He leaned down and kissed me, slow and hard. My toes curled. I gripped his arms, clenching tight. He lifted up. “I’m not letting you get away,” he said and kissed me again. At the same time, I felt the frigid cold of a tab on my neck. I stiffened and he pulled away before I could bite his tongue off.

  I clenched my teeth, fury spinning through me.

  “Riley?”

  “You’re an asshole.”<
br />
  “I won’t argue.”

  “You didn’t have to do that. I agreed to work for you. I’m not running out on you. You could have trusted me.”

  “Maybe we both need to work on that,” he said, sliding down beside me and propping his head on his elbow. He ran his fingers over my cheek and across my lips. “Maybe I did it to protect you.”

  I snorted. “How is it going to do that?”

  “If someone takes you, I’ll come find you. I promise.” He bent and kissed me again. “Trust me.”

  “Said the spider to the fly,” I murmured, fighting to hold onto my anger.

  He went still. “I mean it, Riley. No matter what happens, or whatever else you think, believe that. I will come find you. Do not burn this one off.”

  I shivered. “I’m not planning to get taken. At least, not by someone else.” I put my arms around his neck and pulled him to me. Pretty cheesy, I know. But I was feeling reckless, and something in his intensity made my insides turn to liquid. I wanted him again. Bad.

  He didn’t hold back. His hands moved over me with an eagerness that set me on fire. I could never trust him, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t call him mine for a few hours.

  Chapter 11

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, we got out of bed and showered and had a steak breakfast before we tackled the contents of Josh’s safe. This time I sat on the couch, tucked firmly against Price’s side. I wouldn’t have pegged him for a touchy-feely type. I didn’t tend to be either, but this was pretty damned nice. If I were a cat, I’d have been purring.

  “Corbin Nader works for Westchester Bank,” Price announced suddenly as he unzipped the case. Inside was a metal box. He pulled it out of the sack. It was locked.

  “Why are you looking for him?” I asked, when it seemed like he wasn’t going to say any more. “You said there was a missing woman.”

  He nodded and got up to fetch a pair of pliers, a lockpick kit, and a pocketknife from his desk drawer. “She went missing nearly six weeks ago. She told her friends and family she was going on vacation to an island in the South Seas where she wouldn’t have cell service and not to worry if they didn’t hear from her.”

  “But they did worry.”

  “Her ex-fiancé started asking questions. He thinks there might have been foul play.” He sat down and started tinkering with the lock.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think he’s right. There’s no record she ever left the States. I found her passport in her apartment. She did take clothes and toiletries, so if she was kidnapped, they meant for her to be comfortable. If she did a vanishing act on her own, the question is why. She’s an heiress and the senior financial officer at Westchester Bank. She has a great life and every reason to live it. Her family isn’t saying much. I think maybe there might have been a ransom demand, but if so, they haven’t paid, or the kidnappers want more than just money.”

  “What does Nader have to do with it?”

  “His name was in her datebook. He was one of the last people she met with before she vanished. But when I went to look for him, he’d cleared out, too. Fast, like he was seriously spooked. That was about a week ago. I was hoping you could trace him, but I don’t know that you can find anything now.”

  The letter from Nader to Josh was sitting on his desk. I hadn’t touched it again. It was enough for me to get a trace from. I couldn’t tell Price that. “Wait. Why would he go to Josh for financial advice if he worked for a bank?”

  Price shrugged. “I wondered that myself, though maybe he preferred to keep his personal business separate from the job.”

  It sounded reasonable enough. “You said this woman had an ex-fiancé. When did that happen? Maybe she’s just licking her wounds, getting over a broken heart.”

  “She ended the relationship. I doubt her heart was even involved,” he said, scowling at the lock.

  “And yet he is still in love with her. Poor guy.”

  He glanced at me. “What makes you say that?”

  “He’s worried about her. He’s aware she’s gone missing. I mean, he reported her, not her family. That says he’s still got it bad for her.”

  Price shrugged dismissively. “Maybe he’s just a good guy.”

  “How long were they together?”

  “A year, give or take.”

  “He’s so not over her.”

  “Sure he is. He’s seeing someone else.”

  I snorted. “That doesn’t mean anything. I bet he’s nursing some serious hurt for her, hoping she’ll come back to him. He’s still in love with her. The girl he’s dating is just for comfort.”

  “I don’t think so.” He slapped the box down hard on the table. “Dammit.”

  “Let me try.” I pulled the box onto my lap with his lockpick set. It wasn’t very heavy. I shook it. Several somethings moved inside. I examined the locking mechanism. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen before. The opening looked like two crisscrossed lightning bolts surrounded by a circle. “That’s a hell of a key.”

  Price had slouched against the back of the couch, watching me from beneath lowered lids. He looked pissed. “We might have to cut it open. I’ve got a Sawzall in the garage.”

  “Give me a few minutes. Got a paperclip?”

  He fetched one from his desk. I unbent it, then took a pair of needle nose pliers and bent a circle into one end. When it sat flat on the table, the long end stuck straight up in the air. I pushed it into the outer ring of the lock, adjusting it a little bit bigger before it fit.

  “Hold this for me,” I said.

  Price leaned against me. He smelled good. I resisted the urge to nibble his ear, but my heart started thumping and heat pooled in my belly. I really had a bad case for him. Nothing I couldn’t cure with a bottle of whiskey and a few pounds of chocolate, I told myself firmly.

  He held the wire ring in place. I took the picks and started feeling around inside the lock. There weren’t any pins, at least what I expect pins to be like. Instead, there seemed to be a smooshy surface inside. I wasn’t sure if I was going to need one, two, or four tension wrenches. I studied the lock some more, and then I got a really stupid idea.

  “Just a minute,” I said and handed him the box. I unplugged a floor lamp and cut the cord off at the base.

  “What are you doing?” Price demanded.

  I peeled back the insulation of the cord, exposing the wires. I twisted them together, plugged the cord back into the wall, and then grabbed the box from him and set it on his desk. “You still need to hold the ring inside. Hold it with the pliers so I don’t electrocute you.”

  “This is not safe,” he said, grabbing the pliers and coming around to insert the paperclip ring in place. He laid a throw pillow on the box and gripped it.

  “Safety is overrated. Ready?”

  I didn’t wait for the answer. I jammed the exposed wire into the center of the two lightning bolts.

  The box vibrated, and I felt a surge of magic. I didn’t have a chance to warn Price before a shockwave slammed into me. It tossed me against the window. My feet left the floor and my back and head smashed against the glass as I dropped to the floor like a sack of dog kibble.

  My vision went spotty and then black. I opened my mouth, but my lungs wouldn’t inflate. I fought against panic. After what seemed like eternity, I sucked in a sobbing breath. Pain radiated from the back of my head down my back. My elbows hurt. I rolled onto my knees, holding my head between my forearms like I was bowing to Mecca.

  “Riley?”

  Price sounded like he was underwater. Or maybe it was me.

  “Huh?” That was about all I could muster. I heard thumping sounds of him moving.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Uh-huh.” In order to make that convincing, I pushed myself up to my hands and knees
. Something tickled my nose, and I swiped it with the back of my arm. It came away smeared red. I had a nosebleed. I grabbed the windowsill and hoisted myself upright.

  My vision was starting to clear. Or rather, color came back but everything else was blurry. A yellow light pulsed brightly to the side, making my head hurt worse. “Can you turn the light down?” I raised a hand to block it.

  “You’re bleeding again.” Price caught my upper arms and guided me to his desk chair. “You really can’t afford to be losing so much blood.”

  “I didn’t actually want to get shot or have a nosebleed,” I said.

  He peeled his shirt over his head and handed it to me. “Press this to your nose. I’ll be right back.”

  He disappeared and returned with a warm washcloth. He rubbed it over my ears and down the sides of my neck. He pulled away. Rusty pink colored the pale green terry cloth.

  “Let me see your nose.”

  I lowered my hands and let him finish cleaning me up. He tipped my chin up and examined me. His expression was grim. More like smoking angry. I glanced over my shoulder at the windows. I hadn’t broken anything. I looked back at him, raising one brow. “I’ll buy you a new shirt, if that’s what’s bugging you.”

  “You could have gone through the window. You’d have been cut to ribbons. If that didn’t kill you, the fall would have.”

  “I didn’t and I wasn’t,” I said. Either I was beginning to get used to this almost dying thing, or my brain was tired of reacting to it. “Anyhow, it paid off,” I said, gesturing at the box and the source of the yellow light filling the room. “We can find out what Josh was protecting.”

  “This is exactly why you should stay out of this. I can’t protect you.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.”

  He made a disgusted sound, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Dammit, Riley. You don’t belong in this mess.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I said. “I have to do this. I promised Taylor.”