Alek just nodded, not explaining why he had even asked. I pulled my swim cap off, shook out my hair, and moved into a cross-legged position facing him. I snagged a braid tie from my pocket and started finger-combing and braiding my waist-length hair into some semblance of order.
“So,” I said. “You didn’t call.”
“So,” he said. “You didn’t call.”
We both cracked weak smiles. I started to speak but he reached out with one hand, as though to touch my cheek, but he stopped short and withdrew it, curling his fingers into a fist in his lap.
“I do not like being away from you,” he said. I raised an eyebrow at that but let him go on. “I have been with women before but never for long. Always, I had to leave. I am a Justice first. I cannot let attachments to people or place interfere.” His tone implied old hurt, old pains. I wondered who else, or where else, he’d left that he regretted.
“Did I ask you to stay? Did I ever tell you not to do your job?” I asked, unable to stay silent.
“You did last night,” he said.
“That’s isn’t fair, Alek. You covered up a crime. You basically said that the potential death of a shifter is more important than the actual pain and suffering of a human family.”
“Because it is,” he said, his voice so soft it was nearly lost in the plink and shush of water in the pool. “I am a Justice. This is what I do, who I am. I serve the Council. I protect shifters. I keep them safe, alive, hidden. Unless they cross the line. Then I kill them.” His eyes were hard chips of blue ice, his mouth tight and drawn as he stared at me. “Last night, those bodies, the death. It shocked you. Upset you, no?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“It doesn’t upset me anymore,” he said, looking away from me, eyes fixed on the water. “I saw that dead child and all I can see are problems that require solutions. The need to find the killer is there, yes, but all I see is that I will have to kill again. Take another life for a life, and in the end there will be only death. My job is not a matter of how many die, only a balance of how many I can save.”
“That’s…” I said, then hesitated. “Awful.” It made a strange sense to me and that feeling twisted me up inside. Part of me understood what he meant. Part of me was horrified by this.
He reached into his shirt and fingered the silver feather. “This is the feather of Maat—do you know the legend?”
I nodded. Maat was an Egyptian goddess of justice and truth. Lore had it that when you died your heart was weighed against her ostrich feather. If your heart was lighter than the feather or the scales balanced, you were good and could go on to whatever reward awaited. I’d forgotten what that reward or place was supposed to be. If you were bad, another god would eat your heart and your soul would be stuck in limbo.
Thinking about it, there were some creepy parallels to sorcerers. I thought about Bernie’s memories and power, which I’d gained by eating his heart. Had I consumed his soul? Trapped him in some weird limbo? Ick. Definitely wasn’t going to dwell on that right then.
“I look at it,” Alek said, still turning the silver talisman over and over in his long fingers. “And I wonder if my heart would balance the scale. Then I look at you, and I wonder if there could be more to life than killing, if I could be both man and Justice.” Deep sorrow and confusion lined his face for a moment as he looked up from the feather and met my gaze.
There were things he wasn’t telling me, words I could almost hear in between the ones he spoke, but what he had said resonated. I was afraid of the same things. I was used to being alone, to doing what I thought was best for me and me only. Doing whatever I thought would keep me safe from hurt, any kind of hurt. And I worried about killing, worried about how it didn’t bother me like I felt it should.
“It wasn’t Sky Heart’s death that bothers me,” I said. “It was the collateral, the mistakes I made.” I knew I wasn’t explaining my leap in logic and topic well, or really at all, but Alek slid his hands over mine.
“There are many choices we must make,” he said. “Things we have to try to balance. You saved them. Without you, many more would have died. Without you, your sister would have been thrown from that cliff by her grandfather, as so many others were before her.”
“But better than worst isn’t good enough,” I said. “Fuck, I’m talking in tongue-twisters. I really wanted to just yell at you, you know. I had a speech planned.”
“Liar,” he murmured, his mouth creeping into a smile as though against his will.
“We’re a mess.” I turned my hands beneath his, touching his palm to palm. He felt so warm, so alive. Even through the chlorinated vapors coming off the pool, I smelled him—vanilla and that Alek-specific musk that was wild, comforting, and all him.
“I am not good at relationships,” he said. “But I want to try. I want to stay, as long as I can.”
“I suck at this, too,” I said. “I mean, the last guy I was with is currently treating me like his emotional chew toy in prep for smacking me down and nomming my heart.”
“I will strive to set a better example,” Alek said, his smile stronger, enough so that I could almost forget the deep sadness and confusion he had shown only moments before. Almost.
“Next time, call,” I said, squeezing his hands. “Or email. I’m not picky.”
“I promise,” he said. He leaned forward and brushed his lips over mine. The kiss was a promise too, but it ended quickly, and I bit back a groan. It was good we didn’t start making out, I suppose. My mouth still tasted like pool water.
There were so many things that I didn’t know yet about him. But maybe this was a real beginning—maybe even someone as fucked up as I was could make a relationship. I guess I shouldn’t have expected it to be uncomplicated.
“So,” I said after a far too comfortable moment just holding hands and staring at each other. “Where is your gun?” I had noticed he wasn’t wearing it the night before, but hadn’t had time to ask. It seemed odd to me he wouldn’t have it.
“That is a long story,” he said, his tone making it clear he had no desire to tell the story at the moment. “I have not replaced it yet.”
Hint taken, I changed the topic somewhat. “Any news on the latest psycho killing people in my town?”
“No.” The way he said the word made it clear how much that frustrated him. “There are many wolves to talk to, spread out all over. I will go and continue questioning them, but I have to be careful. No one knows yet what has happened and the knowledge getting out in the wrong way could jeopardize the Peace.”
“What about the other Justice in town?” I asked. “She know anything?”
Alek’s hands tightened on mine and his eyes widened slightly. “Justice?” he said, tipping his head sideways.
“You didn’t know.” It wasn’t a question. It was pretty clear he hadn’t. I reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “Doesn’t your Council tell you guys when they send more than one of you?”
“The Council does not speak to us in so direct a way,” Alek said. “What did this Justice look like?”
“Reddish-brown hair, dark blue eyes, about my height, sharp features, and wearing typical hiker gear. Feather around the neck, and a bad attitude. Know her?”
“Eva Phillips,” he said, nodding. He didn’t look happy about it. “She’s a wolf, been around a long time. She was one of the Justices sent to witness the original Peace at Ulfr’s Althing.”
“I take it you two aren’t close?”
“We all mostly work alone. Sometimes, when things are very bad, the Council will send more than one. I have worked with Eva once. It did not suit me. She has no mercy in her.”
“It’s kind of scary to hear you say that, honestly.” I rolled my shoulders, thinking of how the woman had looked at me.
“Remember how I thought you were killing shifters? How I listened to you and let you prove you weren’t involved?” He rose from the bleachers and paced a little ways down the side of the p
ool.
“That’s sort of how it went, I guess,” I said.
Alek turned back to me, his gaze fierce. “If the Council had given Eva that same vision, had sent her, she would have killed you first, asked questions never.” The shadows were back in his eyes, worry putting fine lines in his pale skin and turning down the corners of his mouth. His expression sent a shiver down my spine as I sensed that somehow his worry was as much for me as about Eva Phillips. I didn’t understand why. More secrets, I guessed. Awesomesauce.
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” I said. I pulled my socks on and then strapped on the knife I’d taken from Not Afraid in its ankle sheath before tugging on my shoes. “I guess you should work quickly then, if you can. Question the wolves in town. Want to drop me back at my store?” Part of me wanted to go with him, ask my own questions, see their faces for myself. But Alek was a Justice; they’d talk more readily to him than to him and some random woman who smelled non-human but not shifter. I’d be better later, if someone needed fireballing or protecting or finding. Part of me hoped fireball was the option.
“Great job, Cerberus,” I told Ezee as we emerged from the pool.
He gave me a shrug that said it all as he tucked away his Kindle and stood up from where he’d been sitting beside the doors. “You need a ride back?” he said, looking between Alek and I.
“Nah, Alek will drop me off.”
“Good,” he said, putting emphasis into the word. With an exaggerated wink he brushed off his trousers, picked up his bag, and scrammed like the coward he was. I glared after him, unable to really be mad. A little warning would have been nice, but eh. Friends. What can you do.
Alek held the door for me like a gentleman. I started to walk through, doing the automatic check for keys even though I hadn’t driven, and realized that my phone was missing from my jeans pocket. Probably fell out near the pool. I swear that phone was possessed, never around when I needed it. Maybe it knew my rough history with phones. I stopped and turned back.
Which meant that the bullet that should have turned my head into fine pink mist instead cleaved off part of my braid before chunking into the wall and pinning my hair there in an explosion of concrete dust.
Sniper. First thought that went through my head. Watched too many war movies, I suppose. But I wasn’t wrong.
I dropped flat as Alek sprang over me. He turned into a tiger in mid-leap and charged the upper parking lot, where the shot likely came from. I blinked dust out of my eyes and squirmed backward into the doorway.
“Alek,” I yelled. A car engine roared to life and I heard squeals as it peeled out. Risking a look, I raised my head and crawled forward again, just enough to see up into the lot. The sun was in my eyes but I made out a giant tiger charging after a small SUV. The SUV floored it out of the lot, which fed into the main artery of the school and out onto the highway running away from town. Even Alek couldn’t keep up.
He stopped and shook himself, as though only now realizing that he was a twelve-foot-long white tiger standing in an Idaho college parking lot in broad daylight. Then he looked around and turned back to a man in a blink.
I pushed what was left of my hair, which was most of it, thank the universe, out of my face and gathered magic into a shield around me, hardening it to turn away bullets, just in case that car had been a distraction from the real shooter. Then I made myself get to my feet, fighting down the panic. A bullet in the head wouldn’t kill me, but I had no idea how long I would take to regenerate from it, and I really, truly didn’t want to ever find out. Getting shot hurts like a motherfucker.
I made my way toward the upper lot as Ezee came running back down the hill.
“Was that a gunshot?” he called out.
“Yeah,” I said, my ears still buzzing. “I think someone just tried to kill me.”
He looked wildly around, sniffing the air.
“They took off in a car,” I added. “I think we’re okay now.”
For now, but how much longer? Pushing that fun thought away, I walked to meet up with Alek, who was standing over something where the car had been parked.
“He left a note,” Alek said, crouching down and breathing deeply, mouth half open as though he could taste the air.
A piece of parchment paper lay curled on the asphalt, a single bullet holding it down. There was something written on the paper, brush strokes that looked like Kanji, but I couldn’t see enough to make out the word. An odd tingle, a bitter taste of foreign magic like the afterburn of gunpowder on my tongue, warned me just before Alek touched the note.
“Wait,” I yelled as I threw my shield bubble around the note, locking it down with as much power as I could pour into it in the fractions of a second before the paper ignited and then exploded.
The blast, even contained within my shield, rocked all three of us off our feet. I fell on my ass, concentrating only on holding all that horrible force inside my magic. Alek and Ezee twisted and rolled, each regaining his feet quickly and gracefully. Damn shifters.
The blast force had nowhere to go but down. The asphalt buckled and split, tar melting and concrete turning to powder. The bullet fired as the force and heat ignited it, shards fragmenting and smashing into my shield, pinpricks of additional force that stung as I wrestled with the blast, holding it down. Inside my body my power waged war against the forces as my bones vibrated and an out-of-tune hum rang in my ears.
Then it was over and the air stilled as though the world held its breath. All I heard was my own coughing breath, my pulse racing. Sweat dripped between my breasts. The jangling feel of my magic stilled in my bones. Slowly I let the shield down. A wave of heat, like standing too close to a bonfire, swept over me, then was gone.
“Fuck,” Ezee said. “That was amazing.”
“Yeah, that was a hell of an explosion spell,” I muttered. I shoved away my bitter memories as they rose—unbidden and unwanted. My second family had died in an explosion. I was not a fan of them.
“No, you,” he said, grinning at me with a wild look in his eye. “That would have killed us.”
“Not me,” I said before I realized how that sounded. I didn’t want to think about the fact that my friends, that the man I might be in love with, were a lot less durable than I was. I preferred to think of them as indestructible. I knew in my heart that they weren’t. Even I could be killed. But not by a bomb. Or a bullet.
“That shot was at you,” Alek said. “Ezekiel left first; it would have been simple to shoot him. Instead, assassin waited until you emerged into light. If you hadn’t reversed course like that, poof. No head.” His blue eyes were dark with rage. Lucky for the assassin that Alek hadn’t caught him. It was cute how protective he looked, how afraid for me he was. Scary, but cute.
“That wouldn’t have killed me. Not forever. I’d have grown a new head or something.” I waved my hands around to indicate big magic would have happened. I wasn’t clear on exactly how much damage I could survive, only that supposedly the single way to kill a true sorcerer is to have another sorcerer eat their heart.
“Then why bother? Unless the killer doesn’t know that, I guess,” Ezee said.
I shook my head. As the adrenaline left my system, exhaustion set in. I’d slammed a lot of power into that shield and done it quickly. Six months ago we would have all been blown to bits. It was good I’d been training, and a little scary to me how quickly I’d gotten more powerful. Maybe more powerful than I had been when I was with Samir. Sadly, still not powerful enough.
Samir. This had him written all over it. I took a deep breath and struggled to my feet, shaking off Alek’s extended hand as he tried to help me.
“I think the idea isn’t to kill me, just incapacitate me while he harvests my heart and gives it to Samir.” Unless, of course, Samir was here somewhere. Watching. Waiting. I looked around, trying to pierce the dim treeline, trying to pick out a watcher if there was one. Total paranoia. I wished that thought hadn’t occurred to me.
“Could Samir be involved in t
he other murders?” Alek said softly in Russian, knowing that Ezee wouldn’t understand him.
I shook my head, ignoring Ezee’s questioning look. “Think we can dig out some of those bullet fragments? Maybe I can get a trace on the assassin.”
“He another sorcerer?” Ezee asked as Alek pulled out a folding knife and bent down over the still warm asphalt.
“Maybe,” I said. “This was definitely magic. Like something out of an anime, right? Exploding paper. Whatever was written on it looked like Japanese.”
“Should we be standing in the open like this then?” Ezee glanced around again, fidgeting with the strap on his messenger bag.
“Go to your office,” I said. “I think Alek the giant tiger freaked the assassin out for now. Hopefully no one saw that,” I added.
Alek lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “I sensed no one else around. Just the person driving that car. He seemed alone.”
“Eh, it’s Wylde,” Ezee added with a tentative smile. “Besides, almost nobody is on campus and the dorms are on the other side of the hill. I doubt anyone will even report a gunshot.”
He took off up the hill after I assured him that yes, we would be fine. Alek carefully handed me pieces of the bullet, the metal warm in my palm.
“It was a .308,” he said, as though that would mean anything to me.
I tugged on my magic, wincing at the headache starting to form. I pictured the metal, the hand that must have last touched it, the environment it would have been in, maybe touching all its little bullet buddies. I fed my magic into that, pressing my will into the spell, telling it to trace its friends, trace its owner.
And I got zip, nilch, nada back. It was as though the bullet had come into being seconds before it got melted in the explosion. Fire is a good cleansing agent, but I should have been able to pick up something, even if it were uselessly vague.
“It’s clean,” I said, dropping the fragments in disgust. “Like, magically it has no signature at all. Like it never touched anyone.” A chill went through me. This assassin knew what he or she was doing. I would have been willing to stake my game store on the guess that this assassin had hunted and killed magic users and supernaturals before.
Twenty-Sided Sorceress 3 - Pack of Lies Page 4
