Edged Blade

by J. C. Daniels

  I snorted. “Yeah, I tell you that about Justin all the time.”

  He turned then and I gasped as he caught me around the waist, lifting me up until my weight was supported by his body. “One big difference. I never loved her. You can’t say the same.”

  He kissed me, hard and fast, and then put me down. “I know it’s over—or at least on your part. But he still has feelings for you and you two work together. I deal with it, but don’t expect me to like it. Now… just what is going on with this job in Georgia?”

  Chapter Eight

  To my surprise—and disgruntlement—I wasn’t the only backup. If we needed others, that was fine, but the woman riding in the backseat was…surprising.

  On any number of levels.

  I’d only met the witch a couple of times, but Tate wasn’t anybody I would have picked to watch my back.

  I wasn’t going to question Justin’s decision—this job was his baby, whatever it was, and if he thought we’d need that kind of firepower—and I meant that literally—then, fine.

  But I didn’t have to like it.

  “So you going to tell me what’s going down?”

  “You already know, unless you weren’t paying attention the other day.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Rescuing some cats and a witch or two. Maybe a vampire. Didn’t get any confirmation on that one.”

  I waited a few seconds for him to elaborate. He didn’t. “Okay. You going to give me any more information than that?”

  When he didn’t answer me right away, I slid him a look.

  I didn’t much like the expression on his face. It was…worrisome.

  There were just times when I thought life would be easier if he wasn’t in it. No, I didn’t think that. My life would be easier if he wasn’t in it. But I could say the same for all the people who mattered to me. Life was better because you had people who mattered, but they were also the reason life got messy.

  Right now, though, Justin was being more complicated than I liked.

  “What did you find out from Chang?” he asked.

  Tongue tucked against my teeth, I stared at him. He still hadn’t answered my question. I debated a minute and then shrugged it off. He’d talk when he was ready to. He just better be ready to sometime well before we hit our target. Wherever that may be.

  “Chang confirmed several disappearances. Damon did, too. Neither of them went into detail, but…” I hesitated and then added, “I get the feeling it’s a bigger problem than they want people to know.”

  “Well, yeah. I’d assumed unexplained disappearances are a big problem,” he muttered.

  “No. Not in that way. It’s…” I frowned, searching for the right way to explain what I meant. “I think maybe they’ve lost a lot more than they are admitting.”

  Justin’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “People from the clan?”

  Shaking my head, I murmured, “No. I can’t say if it’s local people or just loners. I just think there is more they know, more they haven’t told me.”

  “Loners?” Tate asked from the back.

  I met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Shifters who don’t run with any pack or clan. Kind of like Justin here—he’s got independent status. It’s not as common among shifters, but sometimes you’ll have one who just doesn’t play well with others.”

  Justin snorted. “I play just fine with others.”

  “Yeah. It usually involves threatening to play with their entrails,” Tate said.

  It startled a laugh out of me. “Wow. You know him well, don’t you?”

  “They’re just threats,” Justin said, ignoring me. “And they’re effective.”

  “Most people aren’t going to want to play with anybody who threatens to use their liver as a loofah.” Tate’s voice was wry.

  “A liver as a loofah. How lyrical, Justin.” I shifted in the seat and rolled my head on the padded headrest, watching as the large Welcome to Georgia sign loomed closer. “You surprise me.”

  “I’m full of surprises, Kitty-kitty.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Watching the holographic peach flash across the welcome sign, I fought the urge of unease swelling inside me. Georgia was one of those states.

  There were some places that you just don’t want to be if you’re not fully human. To be fair, if you’re fully human, there are plenty of places you probably don’t want to go—like East Orlando. You’d be safe enough, but that doesn’t mean you’d feel safe…or welcome.

  But for a non-human, some places were an invitation to harassment, threats, imprisonment. The Middle East was a place you couldn’t pay me to go. I’d sooner eat my own intestines than step one foot over the border into North Korea. On the flip side, Argentina, Australia, Lithuania and Germany weren’t just receptive to non-humans—they had waiting lists for those wanting to emigrate. In time, they might have more NHs than humans.

  Canada was actually becoming more tolerant, too, and there were a few cities in the US were they were struggling to become less…ass-aholic. Sadly, none of those cities were in Georgia. No, in fact, the cities in Georgia clutched tightly to their pearls and all but fainted at the mention of accepting those of us who weren’t human. The election this year had been a huge, ugly, mud fest, all because the woman who’d been up for re-election had recently been outed as a sympathizer to the non-humans. Apparently, her daughter had married a guy who had witches in his blood and the mom actually loved her daughter enough to not care.

  She’d lost her seat in the Senate and her competition’s entire platform had been about how the woman had betrayed her own kind by accepting the unnatural relationship.

  Yeah, this wasn’t the place I wanted to be. Relax. Maybe you’re just driving through. On the way to Tennessee or the Carolinas—

  Oh, no…not a good thought, that one. In the past six months, supposedly they’d made strides on the vampire infestation that had plagued the state for several years, but who knew if they’d ever get the upper hand.

  I was almost positive Justin wouldn’t attempt to go anywhere near there, not with me in the car.

  Still, my hands were slick with sweat and my shoulders had turned into a hard, knotted mess.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, staring at the open expanse of the marked sky road in front of us. The air traffic pattern cluttered up the clear, blue bowl of the sky, but at least there was sense to the traffic—cars weren’t shooting off in every direction.

  Justin’s jaw tightened for a moment and then he flexed his hands, deliberately loosening them before looking over at me.

  “Savannah.”

  I’d been prepared for anything up to South Carolina. I’d thought.

  But hearing the name of that city had me jerking upright, my hands fisted in my lap as I gaped at him. “Savannah…are you kidding me?”

  Justin was unperturbed. “No.”

  From the back of the sleek little sports car, I heard a snicker, but I didn’t look back. If Tate thought it was a grand plan to walk into one of the few cities where NHs were sometimes shot on sight, then hey, good for her. It wasn’t my idea of fun.

  “Why?”

  He reached between us and popped open the center console, withdrawing a palm-sized computer. “Read up.”

  With dread creeping through me, I powered it up. It was a case file, the kind I’d generate if I’d taken a job on, but the word sketchy didn’t even describe it. There was a location—just outside of Savannah and then information on four people.

  There were four images in the information—two had no names, just descriptions and races. White male, vampire. Female, race undetermined—that probably meant she was an offshoot. Then there were two shifters. My gaze bounced off one—black male, skinny, young—who looked like he was barely out of his spike and the age seemed about right. Nineteen.

  The fourth name made my hands clench on the datapad.

  “Kit?”

  Shaking my head, I focused on the picture.

  She
was even more striking in this picture than the one I’d seen in Chang’s office.

  Shanelle Maguire was beautiful. That wasn’t surprising.

  There was a glint of intelligence in her eyes and the information definitely backed that up. She was an engineer, had a job at one of the few companies that openly hired NHs, and not just for muscle. She’d be strong, though. I had no doubt of that.

  If she was a former lover of Damon’s, strength was a given and not just because she was a shifter.

  Damon wasn’t into damsels, not matter how often he thought about putting me in a tower.

  Shanelle Maguire wasn’t the kind of woman who’d need a tower—or even inspire those thoughts. Even from the picture, she looked like a force to be reckoned with.

  Before my thoughts could get any darker, I forced myself to keep reading.

  I finished, still focused on breathing—and controlling the emotions raging inside me.

  Tate tapped my shoulder and I passed it back to her as I looked over at Justin.

  “That didn’t tell me jackshit.”

  “It told you plenty.” He gave me a curious look. “I think it told you more than it told me. What did you see?”

  “Nothing.” I lied without blinking an eye and if we’d been outside, I would have turned my back on him. “What are we doing?”

  He let it go. But his next words completely floored me.

  “They are due to be transported to the hospital within the next week.” His eyes gleamed and a cold, vicious smile twisted his lips. “We’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  The hospital. There was a lurching sort of fear inside my belly, the kind that left a cold sweat in its wake. As a metallic taste formed in the back of my throat, I took in a deep breath. “You’re sure? Is this from Nova?”

  “Yeah.”

  Well, that would explain the avid glint in his eye. Justin was on a blood trail. He wouldn’t let it go for anything now. “Lovely.” That processed, I asked, “Don’t suppose our friendly, neighborhood psychotic psychic gave you any idea of whether or not we’d survive, did he?”

  “Odds are good.” Justin’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a slow, deep breath. “He wanted me to tell you that you did good. I wasn’t sure what he meant until you told…”

  I shot him a silencing look.

  He smiled. “Well, you did good. He’s quite satisfied.”

  “My life is now complete,” I said dryly. I settled deeper into the seat, letting the specs of the job settle deeper inside.

  It was just a rescue, I told myself.

  I’d done them before.

  This would be easy.

  No sweat.

  “Enjoy your stay. Please be advised that an extra twenty percent will be added to your bill, in accordance with NH safety regulations. Magic of any sort, shapeshifting and violence are forbidden on this property and violators are subject to fines and imprisonment.”

  I curled my lip as the politely delivered message ended and Justin’s key for the pre-paid motel room was dropped out of the slot.

  “Twenty percent? That’s insane,” Tate said.

  “Complain to the state liaison.” Justin hefted his bag as he strode up the walk, searching out our unit. “Georgia state law allows business owners to decide their own hazard charge, as long as it’s not applied to any humans.”

  “You know, we could have just gone straight on to Savannah, avoided being ripped off by paying for a squalid, filthy room and just done our job and gotten the hell out of Dodge,” I said helpfully.

  “We could have, I guess.” Justin swiped the chip in front of the lock. It made a low, electronic hum and the locks disengaged. “But we didn’t. Look, we need to sleep and I’m meeting a contact.”

  A contact.

  Great.

  As he disappeared into the room, I lingered on the porch, my bag hooked over one shoulder. Staring out over into the night, I focused on the uneasiness that spread through me with every passing second.

  “This contact had better be important,” I said after a moment. “And prompt.”

  Justin stood near one of two beds. Neither of them were particularly clean looking. He’d taken the one closest to the door and the quilt was a revolting shade of green, one that made me think of bile.

  As I stared at him, he checked the time. After a moment, he finally seemed to realize I’d said something—and was waiting for a response. “Yeah, it’s important. And…prompt? Why?”

  “Because we don’t need to be here,” I said.

  “Meaning…?”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t define what I felt any better than that.

  But Justin knew me well enough to hear the unsaid things. He closed his eyes and started to swear, long and loud.

  Tate sat on the edge of the other bed, apparently unconcerned by the fact that the quilt looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the war. “Why don’t we need to be here?” she asked, her brow wrinkling. “Is this some of your crazy aneira shit?”

  “Sure.” I gave her a wide smile. “Just like setting things on fire is your crazy witch shit.”

  I moved back to the door, drawn by some unseen threat and a faint voice in the back of my mind, one that whispered: Hurry hurry hurry—

  “How many people knew we’d be here?” I asked, resting one hand on the butt of the Glock.

  “Only my contact.” A grim smile slanted his lips as he added, “And the online reservation service I used to book the room, but I don’t think that counts since it’s a what and not a who.”

  I stared hard into the darkness. “Who is…”

  The words lodged in my throat as a cool presence drifted across the edge of my consciousness.

  Justin moved to join me.

  I murmured his name softly.

  “Well, fuck.” Mouth in a tight, grim line, Justin lifted his eyes upward.

  A shiver raced down my spine as my conscience brain acknowledged what my instincts had already figured out.

  “Kit?”

  I shook my hand, trying to ease the gut-wrenching nerves. “Yeah?”

  “It’s going to be okay,” Justin murmured.

  Then he moved forward, right as the pale, dark-haired form emerged from the darkness.

  Abraham Allerton stood there, studying us. He stared at us. We stared back. I had the feeling he was holding himself still only because he was giving us—me—time to adjust to his presence.

  “If he’s your source, Justin, couldn’t you have met in East Orlando?”

  Justin scowled. “He’s not my source,” he said, frustration underscoring his voice. “What are you doing here, Abe?”

  A flicker of distaste crossed Abraham’s face, but it was gone quickly, like a ripple over a lake. “I’m looking for you.” A benign smile curved his lips. “We agreed to share information, after all. I shared. Now it’s your turn.”

  “I’m sort of in the middle of a job,” Justin said.

  “No.” Abraham looked around, his expression bored. “You’re in the middle of a trap.”

  I tensed.

  Next to me, Justin’s posture lost its easy languidness. “What?”

  “A trap,” Abraham said. Then, helpfully, he offered, “It’s when you’re in a position to be captured by bad people who wish to do bad things to you. It’s not a place you want to be, Justin. I’m sure Ms. Colbana and Ms. Prescott don’t wish to be in that position, even if you are somewhat careless.”

  Justin strode forward.

  Abraham was either one tough bastard or stupid. I’d seen people die when Justin had that look on his face. He stopped just inches from Abraham. “Explain—and do it fast.”

  “I shall, because fast is all we have time for.” The lazy amusement faded from his face. “You need to leave—all three of you—and you must do it immediately. This establishment is…problematic.”

  “That’s not explaining.”

  His hair fell to the side, brushing his shoulders as he explained, “In the pa
st two years, seven non-humans have disappeared from this motel. None of them were ever seen again. In the past two years, only nine non-humans have ever stayed here. Those numbers are troubling.”

  “Uh…yeah,” Tate said, snorting.

  Abraham didn’t even look at her. “And aside from that is your…source. He’s even more of a problem. He’s a skin trader.”

  I hissed out a breath. Tate gasped and Justin’s spine went poker-straight.

  Skin traders are pretty much the scum of the earth, and that’s being polite. They were NHs who sold their own kind out. It didn’t matter who it was, or what was going to happen to them. What mattered was the bottom dollar and the bigger that bottom dollar was, the happier the skin trader was.

  “You’re fucking with me,” Justin said, shaking his head. “I know him.”

  “As do I.” A thin smile curled Abraham’s lips. “And I’ll be sure to keep that acquaintance in mind when I hunt him down and rip out his jugular. Trust me, Justin…Saul Tremble is a skin trader. He’s one of the best. He flies so low on the radar, nobody ever recognizes him. He’s one of the men I’ve been hunting for years…and I never even realized it was him I was hunting until seventy-two hours ago.”

  Justin turned away. His gaze connected with mine before bouncing away. He was pale, almost as shaken as I’d ever seen him. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

  “I’m afraid I am,” Abraham said quietly.

  Justin nodded and said nothing for the next couple of minutes.

  I looked at Tate. “Pack up.”

  By the time Justin had finished wrapping his mind around what he’d just learned—or at least shoving it into a box until he was ready to deal with it—we were ready to go.

  “We’re just going to have to drive through the night,” Justin said, tossing his bag into the car.

  “I have a place,” Abraham offered, walking alongside me.

  It was somewhat disconcerting to realize his nearness didn’t bother me. It wasn’t any more disturbing than having Scott standing next to me, or Chang.