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

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  “If it’s a choice between you and him, I choose him,” I said, and even though I could feel terror winding thorny branches around my lungs, I refused to back down. Nothing pertinent had changed. Josh was missing, and Touray might know how to find him. Whether Price was playing me—I hadn’t been entirely sure before, and now I had more doubts. I’d do anything for family. It would surprise me if Price wasn’t the same. He had that kind of loyalty. It was one of the things I admired about him. Only now it could get me killed. On the other hand, if actions speak louder than words, he’d proven himself to me, and Special Agent Sandra Arnow had demonstrated that she’d wad me up like used toilet paper and flush me.

  “Let’s go,” I said to Price and started blindly in the direction of the warehouse.

  He fell in beside me, grasping my elbow. “Riley—”

  “Let’s just do this,” I said, cutting him off. “You do what you have to do. You don’t have to be responsible for me.”

  I fingered the nulls in my pocket. I still had the quarter that would shut down magic use. With it and some luck, I could create an escape. I’m not saying I was counting Price out, but I had to consider the likelihood that no matter how he might feel about me, he’d put family first.

  “Dammit, Riley!” He stopped, pulling me around to face him. “I’d have told you if I didn’t think you’d take it the wrong way.”

  “How could I possibly take it the wrong way?” I asked, feeling weirdly numb. Inside I could feel the seeds of hysteria breaking open. He was worried I’d take the news that he was Gregg Touray’s brother the wrong way? What was the right way? Should I throw a parade? Buy him a cake?

  “I told you I’d keep you safe and get you out of here, and I will. Believe it.”

  My cheeks were stiff as I smiled. “I wonder if you’re lying to me or yourself.”

  He stared down at me a long moment. I couldn’t see his eyes. They were lost in shadows. He pulled off his glove and put his hand on one side of my face, rubbing my lips with his thumb.

  “I’ll keep you safe,” he said.

  I wondered if he had any idea how worried he sounded.

  “Just keep an open mind, okay?”

  Before I could ask what the hell that meant, he put his hand around the back of my head and pressed an icy kiss to my lips. I wonder what Very Special Snowflake Agent Arnow made of that. The kiss was done almost before it started. Price grabbed my hand and towed me off toward the closest door. The door opened before we got there. A man and a woman stepped out. I shifted gears and started to run. Price’s hand clamped on mine, stopping me.

  “What are you doing?” he hissed at me. “Arnow’s watching. We don’t want her in this.”

  “That bitch is the one who shot me at Josh’s office.” I fought against his grip, but he didn’t let go. Instead he turned back to the man and woman.

  “We’re here to see Gregg,” he said.

  “He’s waiting,” the woman said with a hard glance at me and then Price. “You shouldn’t have run from us before.”

  “You shouldn’t have been shooting at us, Amy,” he said caustically. “I wasn’t going stick around and get killed just to find out who was chasing us.”

  Amy? All of sudden the ground seemed to be moving under my feet. He knew her? By name?

  “You weren’t supposed to be there and that one ran.” Amy flicked her fingers at me. “Didn’t see you until too late.” She shrugged. “It’s not like anybody died.”

  “It was pretty damned close,” Price snapped. His savage expression made her swallow convulsively, but she didn’t say anything.

  Reality began to seep in. Price was turning me over to the man who’d had me shot. I stared helplessly, frozen by shock and horror. When he dragged me up the steps into the building, I followed dazedly. Baldy—Amy’s partner in crime—and Amy followed. Both were armed, though their guns were holstered. They were wearing active magic. Probably some sort of shield, or maybe a null. I couldn’t tell.

  We stepped into a gray room. Industrial vinyl tiles covered the floor and there were a couple of steel desks, a coffeemaker, and computer screens linked to a bunch of cameras around the exterior of the building. Front and center on one of the screens was the snowmobile. Arnow and her companion were nowhere to be seen.

  Amy and Baldy had seen Price kiss me.

  Realization hit me. He’d already known. He knew this place. He’d kissed me to make a statement. My brain was starting to melt as I ping-ponged from emotion to emotion.

  I’ll keep you safe. That’s what he’d said. That’s when I finally realized that I wasn’t just looking to get out of here with my life and freedom intact, not to mention Josh. I wanted some sort of proof that Price really cared about me. I needed proof that his feelings weren’t just part of some Tyet game. Call me paranoid if you want, but he’d made Shana fall in love with him. He’d made her believe he was the love of her life. Look at her now. The funny thing is that I wasn’t expecting some great moment of ultimate sacrifice. I definitely wasn’t expecting him to side with me over his brother. I just wanted—needed—to know I wasn’t in this emotional maelstrom alone. The fact was that I’d fallen completely in love with him. I’d forgive him for turning me over to his brother, if only I knew he loved me too.

  Stupid? Undoubtedly. But don’t love and idiocy go hand in hand? Two branches of the same tree?

  “I’ll take that,” Baldy said, pulling the tire iron out of my hand before I could protest. He went to grab the sack, but Price took it instead.

  After that, Baldy and Amy Oakley led us along a warren of hallways until we got to a bank of elevators. We passed armed men and women with hard faces guarding doors or patrolling the hallways. We got on an elevator, and our two escorts followed. Baldy hit the twelfth floor button, and we launched upward.

  The elevator chimed arrival, and the doors slid open. We stepped out into a cavernous space. The floors were copper-colored concrete, and there were more windows than walls. The space was mostly empty but for a polished wood conference table and some folding chairs, and a couple of square silver birdcage-looking things that dangled from the ceilings. Most of the light came from spotlights overhead. Gloom crowded in through the windows.

  At the far end of the room several white-painted doors blended into white walls. The whole place looked faceless and bland. I bet blood cleaned right up off the floors.

  Price walked in and looked around. “Where’s Gregg?”

  “He wants her secured first,” said Amy Oakley. “Lock her down.”

  Price gave an impatient shrug and waved me to follow him. I went. Lamb to the slaughter.

  On the other side of the conference table a square was cut out of the floor. It was about a foot deep and ten feet across. One of the cage-things hung above. It clearly lowered into grooves cut around the edge of the square. Silver lined the bottom of the grooves. More ribboned through the concrete, I was sure. Buttons in a panel on the side of the conference table controlled the lowering and lifting mechanism.

  “Get in,” Price said. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.” His expression was taut.

  “I want to search her first,” said Baldy.

  I glared at him. “Touch me, and I’ll kick you in the balls.” I wasn’t going to let him grope me.

  “You think you have a choice?”

  He stepped up in front of me. He was broad-shouldered and topped me by a couple inches. But if he was hoping to cow me, he failed. I glared back up at him, letting my baton slide out of my sleeve into my hand.

  “Your breath stinks on ice,” I said. “You should probably get that checked if you ever want to get laid. A dog would be disgusted, and they eat shit.”

  He blotched red and started to swing a punch at me. I was already in gear, ducking and punching him in the balls, even as I snapped my b
aton to full length. I whirled around, ready to crack it over his collarbone. Before I could, Price grabbed Baldy’s fist and held him.

  “Touch her, and I’ll gut you,” he said in a tone like he was admiring the weather. Baldy blanched, and the woman put her hand on her gun.

  Price shoved Baldy away. “Riley, empty your pockets. Remove your jacket as well.”

  “She ought to strip down to nothing,” the woman groused. “It’s protocol.”

  “The cage is designed for far stronger abilities than hers,” Price said. “You know that as well as I do, Amy. So shut up.”

  “Is that an order, sir?”

  Price turned his death glare on her. “If that’s what you need it to be, yes.”

  I guess that’s the bonus of being the boss’s brother. All three of them turned to watch me. I set the baton on the table and pulled all the junk out of my pockets, turning them inside out. I added my jacket to the pile.

  “The vest too,” Baldy said.

  I looked at Price, and he nodded. My fingers shook when I peeled back the Velcro. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been counting on its protection, especially here in the same room as the person who’d shot me once. I didn’t think Amy or Baldy would hesitate to do it again. They were probably just waiting for an opportunity.

  “Boots,” Amy said, and she smiled.

  I didn’t see that I had a choice. Price didn’t argue the point. I unlaced them and toed them off.

  “Get into the pit,” Price said when I was through.

  I bit the inside of my cheeks, tasting blood, and complied. I barely had both feet flat when the cage started dropping. Baldy had his fingers on the button.

  Amy had tossed the tire iron onto the table and now guided the cage into the grooves before releasing the hook on top. She wrapped her fingers around one of the four gargoyle faces decorating the top corners of the cage. I felt magic flare and hum into a field around me. The nulls focused inward, contained by the silver of the cage walls. It was powerful. At least as strong as the null wall I’d torn down. Only now I was on the inside, making it impossible for me to perform magic.

  Well, theoretically. If I could summon more magic than the nulls could smother, then I could do something, provided I had anything left to give. My quarter was a magic eater. It was designed to absorb magic and feed itself. So any power use would make it stronger. But once activated, that feedback loop would burn up the nulling spell pretty quick. I’d never been able to really stabilize it. I’d have anywhere from ten or fifteen minutes to an hour, depending on how much magic it had to absorb.

  None of which mattered now, since I didn’t have any nulls but those on my skin. Neither was any more use than the items on the table, since I couldn’t activate them unless and until I killed the cage’s magic.

  That brought me smack up against the fact that I was now helpless inside a cage, a prisoner of one of the leaders of the Tyet. Maybe the same person who’d tortured and kidnapped Josh. My stomach lurched, and I kept my teeth clenched, though my mouth filled with bile. I would not show Amy Oakley and Baldy how scared I was.

  “Get Gregg,” Price said, though it was impossible to tell who he was talking to, except he sure as hell wasn’t talking to me.

  I wrapped my arms around my waist, digging my fingers into my sides. I paced the edges of my prison. I couldn’t look at Price. A hot, hard knot tightened in my stomach. I shivered, despite the warmth of the room. Pressure rose inside me—to scream, to suck down the nulls and let the magic loose in a volcanic blast. I didn’t know if I could. I didn’t know if I would survive. Probably not. Better to go down fighting. The thought whispered through me, echoing in my brain. The air suddenly seemed too thin, too hot. I started to pant.

  “Breathe slow,” Price said. “You’re about to hyperventilate. You’ll pass out.”

  He said it in the same utterly detached tone he might have used to tell me that my fly was down.

  “Go to hell,” I muttered through my clamped teeth. Just at the moment, I wished I’d never met him. I hated being at someone else’s mercy. I hated that I’d let him talk me into this mess. I was pissed as fuck that I couldn’t summon enough anger to hate him. Or the faith to trust him completely. I was left in a no man’s land as gray and empty as the room we were in.

  I didn’t want to pass out, though, so I silently counted five on the inhale and five on the exhale. Baldy had gone to fetch the boss. Amy leaned on the edge of the conference table while Price stood nearby.

  “Never figured you for going soft,” she said.

  “Soft?” His brows rose.

  “Keeping her alive. Shit, kissing on her like a lovesick orangutan. You’ve gone all marshmallow.”

  His eyelids dropped, and he looked almost sleepy. “Any particular reason I should have killed her?”

  “She’s a loose end. Shoulda put a bullet in her head. Sloppy. I mean, screw her if you have to, but take out the trash when you’re done.”

  Price smiled. Sharks and crocodiles had nothing on him. He looked like he would carve out her liver and eat it right in front of her. Amy paled but didn’t look away.

  “You are very free with the lives of my assets,” he observed.

  His assets?

  Amy swallowed hard, but didn’t back down. “Your assets? You answer to Gregg, remember? Besides, she’s worthless. A hack tracer. We know everything there is to know about her.”

  “Do you?” he said. “And yet you still want to kill her?”

  That caught the other woman up. Her thick brows wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

  “You said you know everything there is to know about her. If that’s true, then either you’re supremely stupid or—” He broke off and shook his head. “No, the only option is that you’re stupid.”

  She swiveled to look at me. I turned my back on her. What was Price doing?

  “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

  “I don’t think so. Run along and do some homework and see if you can figure it out for yourself.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone with her.”

  Price pulled out a chair and sat down, kicking his legs out and crossing them at the ankle. “Why not? She’s worthless, right?”

  “I don’t trust you.” Amy spit the words like poisoned darts.

  The humor drained from his expression until he looked like he was carved from steel. His eyes glittered. “You don’t trust me,” he repeated without any inflection.

  I didn’t understand what was going on, but Amy went white as paper and her hands trembled at her sides.

  “That’s right,” she rasped. “You’re acting weird. Not yourself. Maybe a dreamer’s got ahold of you.”

  His lips thinned. “A dreamer? If you think that, maybe you should put a gun on me. After all, you never know what I might be capable of doing.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Amy snarled.

  “Anytime,” he taunted.

  “Enough, you two,” came another voice.

  I started, jerking back around. Gregg Touray had entered quietly and was already halfway across the room. I’d seen him on the news and in the papers. Baldy remained just inside one of the white doors.

  It never ceases to surprise me how utterly normal the leaders of the Tyet seem. Like a guy in the grocery line or getting money at the ATM.

  Gregg Touray was dark like Price, but his hair was clipped short and his eyes were a dark brown instead of sapphire blue. His face was heavier, more square, and he wasn’t as lean. Where Price was a panther, Touray was more like a bear.

  He was wearing a black shirt and black jeans, with a thick silver bracelet on his left wrist. He joined Price and Amy. He ignored the woman, reaching down to pull Price to his feet.

  The two men hugged. Touray thumped Price on the back in his e
nthusiasm.

  “Clay! I was starting to think you’d run into trouble.” He pulled back, smiling widely.

  Price smiled back with genuine affection. “A little. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He sobered. “We need to talk. Alone. But before that—did anyone mention that you’ve got an FBI strike force outside?”

  Touray’s eyes narrowed. “Bowman?” he said, swiveling to look at Baldy.

  Baldy straightened to attention and glared at Price. “It’s bullshit. The snow’s started again. There’s nothing out there.”

  “Special Agent Sandra Arnow confronted us in the parking lot on security camera. She had a SWAT team agent with her. Tell me you aren’t so blind that you didn’t see that.”

  Baldy looked startled. “We didn’t see anybody else but you and her.” He jerked his head at me.

  Touray scowled. “You and Amy get everybody into place. Now.” His voice cracked like a whip. At the same time, he reached under the table. Small blinking red lights around the doors and elevator popped to life in a silent alarm.

  Bowman trotted for the elevator. Amy hesitated. “Are you sure? He’s—” She broke off without finishing, flicking a look at Price.

  “I’m what?” Price asked. He stared stonily at her. “Don’t imagine you can hammer a wedge between us.”

  “Just because you’re blood doesn’t mean you won’t betray him,” she shot back, then looked at Touray. “I know he’s your half-brother, but he’s not acting right. You shouldn’t be alone with him. You can’t trust him.”

  “Go, Amy,” Gregg said. “Never again presume to comment on my brother’s loyalty. I trust no one more. He will never betray me; he doesn’t know how.”

  She glared at Price, her lips pinching white, and then she followed Bowman to the elevators and stepped inside.

  When they were gone, he turned to look at me. “Let’s make this quick. Is this the tracer Amy shot?”