To ask was to tell, and he wouldn’t play tit for tat. He got the feeling neither of them liked that game.
“Hold your horses.” Ford jogged to catch up with them. “You’re team two, as in the number after one.”
Hadley flashed her teeth. “Waiting on you, cowboy.”
“It’s rude to assume that all Texans are cowboys.” He sniffed. “My tender feelings are hurt.”
“Tender,” she mused, “or tenderfoot?”
“Now that’s just mean.”
“What if I agree to bounce you on my knee and sing trotty horse, trotty horse off to town, take care little one and don’t fall down to you later?”
“I accept.”
Midas listened to them bicker, but again chose to keep quiet and let her rebuild the bridges he had burned. Her hand was warm on his wrist, and she didn’t let go.
Nine
Having never gone spelunking in a sewer, I’m not sure what I expected. More Ninja Turtles, maybe?
Ha! I ought to write that one down for Bishop. More proof I knew popular, if not classic, cartoons.
The mental exercise kept me from focusing on the dark, the closeness of the rounded walls, the scuttle of insects. This was a long way from the pantry, but every once in a while, a place hit me just so, and this one had a mean right hook.
Ambrose twined between Midas’s legs like a friendly cat, and it set my teeth on edge.
I wasn’t ready to ask Midas if there was an actual magical tether between us now, or if one could manifest. That tread too closely to admitting it could never happen unless he wanted to risk Ambrose’s darkness seeping into him when the shadows in his eyes warned he had already seen enough.
Aside from my shadow being obnoxious, which was hardly news, we hadn’t encountered anything worse than rodents of unusual, but not paranormal, size.
Ford led the way, Bishop at his back, then Midas and then me. The guys weren’t happy about me bringing up the rear, but I told myself it was because of my shoulder and not because I was a girl.
What can I say? I lied to myself a lot. I was pretty great at it.
“This isn’t right.” Ford stopped in the middle of a connector. “There’s nothing here.”
“Coming through.” I nudged Midas aside, bumping Bishop with my hip to get to the front of the line where I could take a better look. “There’s nothing here.”
Just the same slime, rats, and water. I didn’t ask if he was sure. Ford might have a crap nose—his words, not mine—but gwyllgi tracked better than anyone. If he said this was the place, then this was the place.
“I’m not crazy.” He checked with me to see if I was mentally measuring him for a straitjacket. “The nest was here.”
“I believe you.” I entered the open area for more breathing room. “And not just because you came home covered in snot and smelling like a carton of milk left in a hot car in Georgia in July.”
“That’s oddly specific,” Bishop muttered as he joined me. “No. Don’t tell me. I don’t need details.”
A flick of my wrist ordered Ambrose away from Midas and sent him sniffing out any magical remnants.
“How did you get so filthy?” I cranked my head toward Ford. “I didn’t ask earlier. I didn’t particularly want to know, but now it seems relevant.”
“Six inches of slime coated this whole area.” He walked to one section and placed his palm on the wall. “I figured the hard capsules suspended from the ceiling were egg cases, but I wanted to be certain. I punched through one, and goo exploded in my face.”
“You’re lucky a Martian Roach didn’t pop out and eat you.”
“In hindsight, yeah.” He shrugged, not looking at her or Midas. “In the moment? Throwing the punch felt good.”
“Everyone, stand aside.” Bishop cleared a path. “I want to send a record of this to the team.”
While he used a palm-sized video camera that probably cost my annual salary to record the area, I pulled the guys into a huddle.
“Ford, stay here with Bishop.” I didn’t dare risk leaving anyone alone. “Midas and I will search the adjoining tunnels. Call when he’s done, and we’ll work our way back to you. Do not go farther than this point.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He snapped out a salute. “I’ll hold down the fort.”
We stood at a T junction. Left would mean getting in Bishop’s way, so I went right and sent Ambrose, whose curiosity was piqued, left with a flick of my fingers.
“Smell anything?” I asked Midas after a good five minutes. “Other than, you know. Sewer stuff.”
“Nothing like the creature.”
“Anything paranormal?”
“No.” His nostrils flared. “There’s nothing down here.”
“Let’s turn back then.” I didn’t want to leave Ford and Bishop for long. “Lead us out.”
A soft huff of sound escaped him. “Is that why I got invited along?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You were counting on my nose to get us back.”
Ambrose would return eventually, so that wasn’t a big concern, but Midas’s keen senses would be more expedient and less conspicuous.
“Hey, I’m an excellent tracker.” A total lie. “Give me your shirt, and I’ll pick up your scent.”
“No.”
“Spoilsport.” I leaned in for a sniff. “You smell good. Why do you smell so good?”
“Saying I smell good compared to everything else down here isn’t saying much.”
“It’s not just down here.” I nudged him in the small of the back to get him moving. “I can tell when you’ve been where I’m going. It’s like walking into a cloud of perfume near the makeup counters at the mall, only my eyes don’t water.”
And I shouldn’t have admitted that unless I wanted to confess the shirt was a purely lascivious request.
Midas shot me a wary look that bordered on hope. “You can identify me that clearly?”
“Yes?” I poked him again. “Blame your detergent. Or your hair-care products.”
As I said it, inspiration struck. The more I turned the hunch over in my head, the more it fit.
That must be why I rode the elevator up to Midas’s room at the Faraday. I didn’t know he would be there, but he must have stopped in recently if I traced the scent to him. He had been on my mind lately, but I hoped my subconscious hadn’t stooped so low that I was sleep-stalking him.
“Do you hear that?” Midas cocked his head to one side. “It’s coming from over there.”
Straining my ears, I picked out dripping water and tiny scuttling feet. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
A grate with leaves stuck in its bars drew his attention, and he went to investigate.
“See this?” He indicated a brownish congealed blob. “Whoever cleaned up missed a spot.”
“I’ll record it for Bishop.” I got the video then reached in my pocket for an evidence baggie. “I need a sample for Reece.”
“You mean for the cleaners.”
“Uh, yes,” I amended quickly. “The cleaners.”
Reece would share his findings with the cleaners, so it’s not like they wouldn’t get their sample’s worth eventually. However, allowing the future Atlanta alpha that much insight into our process was asking for trouble down the road. No one outside the OPA had a firm grasp on how much we did behind the scenes to keep the city running, and I wasn’t going to be the one who pulled back the veil.
Once I pocketed a generous sample for Reece, I took another baggie and filled it for the cleaners.
Done with that, it occurred to me Midas had never elaborated. “What did you hear?”
“The goo.” He picked up a baggie and held it close to my ear. “It’s humming.”
“That can’t be good.” Try as I might, I couldn’t get a read on it. “Does that mean it’s alive?”
“There’s no heartbeat, but roaches can function after their heart stops.”
“You’ve been researching roaches, haven’t yo
u?”
“Your comparison made sense, and I had a lot of time on my hands today.”
Hours where he sat and watched over me while I recovered from the wound and the healing.
“Did I thank you for sitting with me, after I finished reaming you out?”
“Your volume was turned all the way up, so I could have missed it at that decibel.”
“Har-har.” I double bagged the samples before pocketing them. “I’m glad you stayed.”
The only vigils held at my beside happened when I was sick as a kid, and then it was my brothers fussing over me. Mostly Boaz, who took his older brothering seriously. A nonfamily member filling his shoes left me with mixed feelings and the fervent hope I hadn’t blown the feminine mystique by breaking wind or scratching my butt.
On that happy note, we set out to rejoin Bishop and Ford. Midas led the way, and I covered our backs.
Midas threw on the brakes without warning, and I bumped into him. “We’ve got a problem.”
“On every day that ends in Y.” I leaned around him. “What’s the trouble du jour?”
The junction was empty. No Ford. No Bishop.
“Either they left without us,” I said, “or they decided to go explore the other tunnel.”
“Ford obeys orders.” He exhaled. “Usually.”
“Bishop does what he wants. Always.” I shrugged at Midas’s skeptical look. “Well, he does.”
“Do we go up, or do we go forward?”
“Bishop might have discovered something he felt warranted a closer look.” I considered our options. “I could see Ford providing backup for Bishop if he couldn’t be talked into waiting.”
Armed with a brand-new flamethrower and no target, he wouldn’t be prone to standing around.
“I’ll check.” He tapped the side of his nose to silence my protest. “Give me room to work.”
As much as I wanted to charge down the tunnel, temper blazing, I gave Midas space to do his thing.
“They didn’t come this way.” He doubled back, brushing past me, retracing our original path. “They must have gone up to wait.”
“Well?” I let him reach the halfway point before I had to know, or I might burst. “Any sign of them? Scent of them? Whatever?”
“There’s nothing.” He slowed down and then he stopped, his chin angled away from me. “This is the way we came, but there’s no trail. It’s been erased, or masked.”
The coven had mastered charms to hide and alter their scents, but the goo and the bugs were new, and until I conferred with Ambrose, or DORA fed us an update, I couldn’t officially link the two.
“Keep moving.” I made the decision, but it hurt. “We need to be certain they’re both missing.”
A bell once rung couldn’t be unrung.
“All right.” He allowed my order to stand, but the tension in his back told me he wasn’t happy about it. “I see light up ahead.”
I did too, had for a while now. The sliver of moonlight was the only thing keeping me from panicking at the press of walls against my senses.
Necromancers came standard with decent night vision. It was the other gwyllgi senses we lacked.
“The manhole cover’s still off,” Midas announced under his breath. “That’s good.”
Good would have been them hearing us and leaning over the hole, their silhouettes blocking the white moon’s crescent figure. Good would have been us hearing them talking, or arguing, or fighting. Good was a lot of things, but such a small token didn’t satisfy my requirements.
“Go on.” Midas stepped aside to let me climb out first. “I’ll follow.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of my sight.”
“Two people can’t climb the same ladder at once.”
“Hold my hand.” I thrust it at him. “You can climb up behind me.”
“Hadley…”
“Don’t Hadley me.” I took his hand when he made no move to accept mine. “I’m not losing you too.” The hardness in his eyes softened a fraction. “Your mother would kill me.”
“Yeah.” He meshed our fingers slowly, feeling out the gaps like this was his first time. “She would.”
Once I had hold of him, I started the climb. It was slow, awkward as heck, and a miracle I didn’t fall with the weight of the unspent tank yanking my shoulders back and my balance off thanks to the arm I kept down at my side. I made it to the top, sucked in fresh air, and kept hold of Midas until he was sitting on the asphalt beside me.
No Ford. No Bishop. No signs of trouble. No news was rarely good news in this business.
One of us had to say it. It might as well be me. “They’re not here.”
“We need to fall back to the Faraday. That’s where Ford will return if he’s able.” Midas stood then helped me up using our linked fingers. “We can check Ford’s truck first, but I doubt we’ll have better luck there.”
The walk back to the alley was silent, but Midas held on to my hand, and I didn’t let go.
We reached the same alley, the one with a busted streetlamp, and I kicked a dented can skittering across the street. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The truck was gone.
“Ford wouldn’t have left us.” Midas glanced left to right. “Bishop wouldn’t have left without his third and fourth flamethrowers.”
Insulted I wasn’t included on the list, I caved before making an issue out of it. After all, he was probably right.
“I’ll call us another ride.” I opened Swyft, watching the screen until we got matched with a driver who wasn’t a Midas-hating pixie girl, then put it away. “This is not good.”
“This is a direct attack on the pack, and on the Office of the Potentate.”
“That’s what I said. Not good.”
Twin beams blinded us when the driver cut the wheel onto our street, but instead of slowing down, they sped up, veering onto the sidewalk and smashing into the building behind us.
Midas jerked me aside at the last second, and we spun into the alley to avoid a collision.
He caught his breath with his back against the bricks, his arms around me, his fingers digging in.
From this vantage, without the light in my eyes, I identified the car and swore. “It’s her.”
“Who?” Midas kept me locked against him. “You know her?”
Well enough to know she wasn’t named Robert Martin, and she wasn’t driving a red Ford Escape.
“Wait here.” I squirmed out of his arms then marched toward the wreck. “What is your problem?”
The driver side door swung open, and sure enough, the pixie sprung out with luminescent eyes.
“Get back out in the street so I can finish what I started,” she yelled over me to him. “What are you waiting for? Move it.”
Glancing from me to her, he stood his ground. “I’m not going to let you run over me.”
“For once, you’re not surrounded by pack.” She charged him, but I caught her. “This was my one shot.”
“You can’t kill Midas.” I dodged her kicking legs and snapping teeth. “The pack would hunt you down.”
“I. Don’t. Care.” She snarled past me at him. “You’re going down, pretty boy.”
She stomped back to her car and slammed the door. The heap of twisted metal made a valiant effort to come to life when she tried her key, but it was no use. She’d hit the building too hard. The front end of her sporty car was an accordion. She wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, and neither were we.
When she just sat there, deflating before my eyes, I figured it must be safe to approach, that she was only armed with her temper. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have given in so easily. For all her kicking and screaming, she hadn’t even drawn blood.
Ambrose stuck out his hand before I uttered the order for him to stand watch over her, and I tossed him a dark chocolate raspberry truffle with twenty-four-karat-gold accents that disappeared into the void.
“I’ll call the police.” I dialed
up one of the Low Society sentinels I knew who had gone undercover with the Atlanta police department. “They’ll give her a ride home after she files her report. She’ll need one for her insurance to cover repairs on her car.”
Midas stared at me, at the phone in my hand, at the girl sobbing behind the wheel of her busted car.
“What?” I pulled up Swyft and booked us a ride home. “It’s my job.”
“She tried to kill me,” he enunciated slowly. “She almost killed you in the process.”
The girl could drive. Like NASCAR or a stunt driver, but still. I had trouble believing if she wanted one or both of us dead that she could have missed. Twice. She had anger issues, clearly, but I had trouble condemning her when I saw so much of my reckless impulsiveness in her, so much of my anger.
“I talked to Ford about her, but he didn’t think there was anything to worry about, and neither did I.”
“Why ask in the first place?” He studied her over my shoulder. “I’ve never met her.”
“She told me…” I wet my lips. “She believes you killed her sister.”
“Droch chrích ort,” she screeched. “Droch chrích ort.”
The color washed out of Midas’s face, and he doubled over, bracing his palms on his thighs. “No.”
“No?” I rubbed his back, but he jerked away. “You didn’t kill her?”
“No, no, no.” The gravelly denial kept churning in his throat. “This can’t be happening.”
I reached out, recalled his flinch, then lowered my arm. “Are you okay?”
“I remember,” he panted. “How it felt.”
“Okay.” I waited, but he didn’t fill in the obvious blanks. “Our ride will be here in a minute, and then we can get you back to the Faraday.”
Wherever Midas had gone, he wasn’t here with me. He was far away, and I had no idea how to bring him back.
“I’m going to update the girl.” I gave him a minute, but he didn’t acknowledge me. “Just stay put, okay?”
“Hey.” I jogged over to her. “The police are on the way, but I have to get Midas home.”
“I didn’t even hit him,” she grumbled through her shattered window. “He was right there.”
Pack of Lies Page 10
