The idea of being your own best friend struck me as impossibly sad, but it’s not like having real people as friends had worked out any better for me.
“Mamaí found out, and she blew her top good. She ordered me to reabsorb Eight before it was too late, but I couldn’t do it. She had become her own person. She was the sister I would never have.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I did the only thing I could do. I sent her away to live her own life.”
“You gave up half your power?”
Or did that make it a tenth since Eight was half of the pair who were the farthest echoes of the original?
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Ripping myself down the middle to protect my family? Nah. I wouldn’t get that at all.
The mechanics of her situation, however, did stump me. “You’re saying Midas killed your—Eight?”
“Yes.” She blew her nose on the sheet. “A few months passed with the ache inside of me from missing her, but one day she snapped back.” She dabbed her eyes. “What was left of her.”
“That’s when she told you he killed her?”
“Eight was stretched too far and had been for too long. I couldn’t absorb all her individual memories before they vanished into the collective, and I couldn’t access them there because she had been killed.” Remy sniffled. “Midas’s face, his name. That’s what I got from her before she ceased to exist.”
“How could he, or anyone else, kill a sliver of you?”
“They’re as real as I am, even when they’re not me.”
The mechanics of that sailed so far over my head, I would need a plane ticket to reach them.
“Based on that, you what? Jumped realms? And decided to kill Midas?”
“Did he tell you he’s spent time in Faerie?” She sat upright, bringing her pillow with her, which she cuddled to her middle. “Did he tell you what he did there?”
Her accent, so thick a moment ago, flipped back to the absolute faintest Southern twang.
“No.” I made an executive decision. “I don’t want to know.”
“You can’t defend him if you turn a blind eye to his past.”
Maybe that was the problem. I wanted to believe who we were in the moment could be who we were period. Right now, today, Midas was a good man. He was fighting his demons, but he was fighting. He hadn’t given up, hadn’t fallen down, and that meant something to me.
“I’m not turning a blind eye. I’m choosing to see it when he decides to show me.”
All I could ask was that he paid me the same courtesy if the time came.
“The rosy film on those glasses you’re wearing will start peeling eventually.”
“Remy…” A ridiculous hunch popped into my head, but I couldn’t shake it loose. “You halved yourself to help us locate Ford, didn’t you?”
The petulant jut of her chin dared me to take issue with it. “What if I did?”
Then she might be the answer to a prayer or two. “You still need a job, right?”
“Depends on what you’re offering.” She sat up and tucked her legs under her. “How much does it pay?”
“You’ve seen my kiosk at the mall?” I doubt seriously she had taken a job there if not to spy on Midas through me. “I’ve been neglecting it lately, but I need the income.” The bluff came easily, but I did need it to start paying for itself. “More than that, I want a sharp set of ears behind the register.” I bit my lip. “That wasn’t a fae joke, by the way.”
Understanding sharpened her eyes, and she wet her lips, tasting the possibilities. “You spy on people.”
“I gather intel.” I smoothed wrinkles from the sheets under me. “It’s different.”
“You sit there in your booth and pretend to be playing solitaire on your computer, but you’re really just snooping.” Wild laughter shot out of her mouth. “How did I miss this? It’s too rich. Miss High and Mighty Corpse-Raiser is a dirty eavesdropper.”
“Are you done yet?” There was that title again. Corpse-raiser. “Look, forget it. I’m out.”
“No, no, no.” She lunged for my arm, and her fingertips bit into my skin. “I’ll do it.”
“You don’t know what you’ll be doing or how much it pays.”
“It will keep me close to you,” she decided, “and that keeps me close to Midas.”
“Try to murder him again, and you’re fired.”
“What if I succeed?”
“Then you’re fired and also under arrest.”
The team would have a new pet project in Remy. Her skills might prove invaluable to the OPA, but she would require constant supervision to ensure she didn’t break laws I couldn’t glue back together.
The way things were headed, I could offer no guarantees on that point. I managed a whole year of living in Atlanta without bumping into him once. Since then, yeah, my record of avoidance wasn’t great. The courtship thing guaranteed six more weeks of us being joined at the hip, but after that?
Yeah. No. I didn’t want to think so far ahead.
“You found Ford.” I gave my first order as an employer. “Find Bishop.”
“I got lucky. I noticed activity at the plant and earmarked it months ago.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I might not get lucky again, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Months ago.
How long had this been going on under my nose? And how many more hosts were out there?
There was only one way to find out, and it promised to be rank, gooey, and disgusting.
Bishop was worth the shudders I got recalling the condition we found Ford in.
Please let me find Bish too.
“So…” Remy leaned in, the thrill of the hunt in her eyes. “When do I start?”
Pretending to consider her, I also then pretended to come to a conclusion. “Is now good?”
“Do you really have to ask?”
Haggling over pay, benefits, and hours took a while, but I finally got down to filling her in on the business side of things since espionage was mother’s milk to her. After I walked her through registering an employee account on the Peachy Keen Sheets website, I left her with a series of training videos cued and ready to roll.
That meant I was ready to roll too, and the first thing to pop in my head as I organized the rest of my night was worry over whether Midas reached the den okay in his tin can. Not a great sign. I had no mental real estate left on the market, and I couldn’t afford to lease him headspace.
Courtship or not, the pack prince and his hot—and cold—flashes weren’t my problem. Finding Bishop was.
Fifteen
I had to laugh when I let myself out of the shelter, initiated the sequence to locate HQ, and recognized the first variables as placing its location halfway across town. Guess it would be too easy if I could turn left, walk two steps, and punch in a code.
I did the legwork, taking time to turn the facts of the case over in my head, but I got nowhere fast. Except HQ. I did get there. As it turned out, I powerwalk when distracted.
The control room was up and running, the screens on and filled with shadowy faces, and stupid hope blossomed in my chest that Bishop had found his way home.
“Bish.” I rushed in. “You here?”
“He’s not back.” Anca broke my heart, quick and clean, before I got too excited. “I called a team meeting when I heard about what happened out at the meat packing plant.”
“We weren’t meeting behind your back,” Milo said guiltily. “Honest.”
“This is the very definition of meeting behind my back.” I dropped into Bishop’s chair, sentimental about the squeak of its wonky castor, to give my feet a rest. “I’m good with it.” I let my head fall back on my neck, a tension headache brewing at the base of my skull. “You’re the POA’s team, and I trust you.” They were loyal to the office, not the individual, a fact I had long since accepted. “You don’t have to explain doing your job with, around, or through me.”
“How is Ford?” Lisbeth asked in a small voice.
“The pack hasn’t made a statement.”
“It’s bad.” I straightened in my chair and faced them. They deserved eye contact for this. “Abbott is good at what he does, but this is new, and new means a learning curve.” The thinnest coat of dust covered the keyboard, only visible because of its black plastic cover, and I wanted to launch it through a window. Good thing we didn’t have any. “We have to find Bishop and hope Abbott can apply what he learns from Ford to treat him.”
“Linus has his ICE contact,” Reece said into the quiet. “This might be the time to call.”
In case of emergency.
Yeah.
This definitely qualified.
“He keeps all our details,” Lisbeth added before my feelings could get hurt that they knew something about Bishop I didn’t, which was ridiculous. They had worked together for years. I was the newbie here. “He’ll handle the notification if…”
“Until we find him, I don’t see the point in stressing out whatever family or friends he listed.” I stood and paced. “ICE goes on the backburner, understand? We’re not quitting.”
Milo’s shadow leaned closer. “No one said—”
“You didn’t see Ford.” I made a fist and bit it out of fear I might scream otherwise. “It was… He was…”
“You’re going to want to see this.” Reece cut me off, flinging information up on the screens. “I’ve got the test results on the goo.”
“Okay.” I shoved my hand into my pocket where it throbbed. “What is it?”
“A spent charm.”
“All roads lead back to the coven,” I sighed. “Any idea what kind of charm? What about the humming?”
“The humming was magic incinerating the goo. A few minutes later, and there would have been no trace left. As to what kind of charm—I’ve never seen anything like it. Most of the components I could have used to identify its purpose were toast, but I brought in Doughty.”
Doughty was a witch from Buckhead with a near-flawless record for the Lyceum upholding his rulings. He worked as a consultant, and he was worth the steep fee. The combination of his expertise in woo-woo and his scientific know-how made him a top analyst in both fields.
“Spit it out,” Milo yelled. “Don’t keep us hanging.”
“It was a complex glamour,” Reece said placidly, “tied to a charm that would self-destruct after it ran out of juice.”
“Ford really did see what he thought he saw.” I might have felt vindicated if I hadn’t felt such grief over his condition. “The goo coating him must have been part of the brainwashing process.”
The nasty hug he gave me took on new meaning, and my skin crawled at the memory.
Abbott had already given me the all-clear health-wise. Otherwise, I might have thrown up in my mouth.
“Go home, shower, and rest.” Anca pushed authority into her tone. “We’re all here, and we’re all working. We’re not going to stop until we find Bishop and bring him home.”
“Then I should be here too.”
“You’re putting in the legwork,” Milo countered. “You’ve got a right to be tired. Plus, you’re seeing firsthand things we have the luxury of fast-forwarding through on the cameras.”
“I’m good.”
I’m scared to fall asleep. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to wake up in another alley.
Those were petty concerns given Ford’s dire condition and Bishop’s unknown status.
“I will call Linus if you force my hand,” Anca said quietly. “You must be sharp if you want to find Bishop.”
“Before he runs out of time,” Milo finished, like I had trouble reading between the lines.
“Four hours,” I bargained. “Then I’m coming right back here to join you guys.”
“Four hours of sleep plus however long it takes you to eat and shower,” Lisbeth bargained.
“Six hours.” Milo mimed setting his watch. “And…go.”
“I’m monitoring the situation at the packing plant,” Reece said, distracted. “I’ll call if anything changes.”
“Thanks, guys.”
I tossed them a wave, considered making use of the shelter, then dismissed it out of fear I was right about HQ’s mystical properties. I didn’t want to walk back in on Remy and end up having a roommate for the night.
“Make no apologies,” Milo called to my retreating back.
“Survive,” we said in solidarity, though I heard their worry aimed at me.
* * *
Thunder rolled overhead, and the pitter-patter of rain hitting metal lulled me back to sleep.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
Agony exploded in my head, a nuclear detonation that left my ears ringing. Lifting my arms to check the damage, I banged an elbow against rusty metal that drove slivers under my skin.
“Frakking hell.” I rubbed the hurt, but the pain didn’t ease, so I cursed again. “Frakking hell.”
The stench hit me next, and I gagged, the taste of tomato sauce in the back of my throat.
“Where am I?” I rubbed my forehead. “Ambrose?”
A burst of information poured into my head on cue, proof Ambrose had been the one to rouse me.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I placed my palms on the hot metal beneath me, and it…squished. “Ugh.”
Careful not to bang my aching skull, I shifted into a crouch then held my hands above my head as I stood.
The hinged lid of a dumpster pushed up and slapped against the side when I gave it a good shove.
“This is the same alley.” Chills broke over my skin when I recognized the glowing exit sign. “This is the same dumpster.” I braced on the dull edge, swung my legs over, and jumped down onto the asphalt. “Is this your idea of a joke?”
Ambrose spread his hands, still playing innocent.
“You don’t sleep,” I snarled, voice starting to rise. “You saw what happened to me. How did I get here?”
The shadow folded his arms and turned his back on me, which pissed me off enough to walk over and stomp on his foot. He didn’t feel it, but he bent, cradled his leg, and hopped around with his head thrown back.
“Tell me.” I reached for the chocolates in my pocket and came up empty. “Well, this is embarrassing.”
I wasn’t wearing pants. Or shoes. Or socks. I was wrapped in a pink silk robe with hot pink feathers sewn around the collar, wrists, and hem. Who I pilfered this getup from, I did not want to know. Except, I now had to locate the owner to buy them a new one. So I guess I did want to know.
Sleeping in the armband had paid off, though. That was progress. I ordered a Swyft and kept hidden behind the dumpster until the guy was idling in front of me, too shocked by my choice of attire to lock the doors and speed off.
“Do you know this area?” I scanned the cross streets as we passed them. “Anything interesting around here?”
“Lady, you got interesting down pat. Bet you bring a little bit everywhere you go.”
Clutching the halves of my robe tighter, I scooched down to lessen his view of me. “Cute.”
“You’re one hundred percent safe with me.” He chuckled. “I like to joke, but I’m tame as a housecat.”
In this city, that could mean he turned into one after dark or on full moons.
“Now that you mention it.” The driver grew thoughtful. “There was a club near here. Weird place. Paras only. Women in cages, wearing collars and such. Made me uncomfortable, and I never set foot in the place. Just picked up the folks who stumbled out from time to time.”
“What happened to it?”
“Huh.” He scratched his stubbled cheek. “I can’t say as I know, now that you mention it. I haven’t thought about it in ages.”
“Do you remember who backed it?”
“Fae.” His eyes turned hard. “They lured humans in for the entertainment until we got ourselves a POA who looked out for humans too.”
That dated the club and gave me a lead. Its doors would have closed about seven years ago, depending on
when it first came to Linus’s attention. His memory was like a steel trap. I ought to be able to ask him about it but…
I didn’t want him thinking I ran to him for every-little-thing, that I couldn’t think for myself. Or worse, that I was too lazy to do the legwork. Right now, I had a hunch. Until that firmed up, I didn’t need a firsthand account. Secondhand would do just fine.
Any club using humans for para entertainment would have a record, and Anca could access it for me. That ought to jog her memory enough to shake loose any details that didn’t make it into the official report.
“Take some advice?” The driver twisted to face me. “The city is safer these days, but you’re not living in a Hallmark movie. Be more careful out there.” A smile curled his mouth into a Cheshire grin. “And maybe wear more clothes the next time you leave home?”
“I make no promises.” On either count. “Thanks for not being weird.”
“Hey, I got a mother. I got sisters. I don’t understand them either, but I worry all the same.”
The walk of shame into the Faraday was made better when Hank was the one who wrinkled his nose at my attire.
“Hey.” I rushed up to him. “How are you feeling?”
“You’re half-naked in public.”
“Fully recovered, I see.”
“Midas would have my tail if he saw me talking to you while you’re dressed like this.”
“Midas drove off and left me high and dry.” That was more information than he asked for, but I was still hot under the collar. “Our courtship is a countdown. That’s it.”
Scrubbing a hand down his face, he didn’t manage to wipe away his expression. “Well, shit.”
A prickle traipsed up my spine, stinging me between the shoulders. “Someone is behind me, huh?”
“You could say that,” Tisdale answered for him. “A countdown? That’s what you said?”
Pivoting to face her, I couldn’t settle on the proper expression. “Fancy meeting you here, alpha.”
Guess my two hours were up and then some if she had extricated herself from the den for a showdown.
“Do you have a moment?” She didn’t wait for an answer but led me into the lobby. “We need to talk.”
Pack of Lies Page 17
