Solomon's Seal

by Skyla Dawn Cameron

  His gaze flickered to Pulaski, still behind the wheel. “Put her in her house and don’t let her leave.”

  “Are we authorized to tell her,” Pulaski glanced at Thomas, then to West again, “like, anything?”

  “Just...” I expected the next words from West’s mouth to be expletives but instead he went calm and cool. “Tell her whatever you need to if it keeps her from leaving.” He opened the door, completely disregarding the threat I still aimed at him, and climbed out, then slammed the door closed so hard the car shook.

  I didn’t take the shot and suspected I’d come to regret it.

  31

  Full House

  The car was silent and I was wedged between Pru and Thomas so couldn’t’ve made a run for it if I’d wanted to. Pulaski drove through—and out of—New Bristol, and I put away my guns rather than risk shooting anyone and causing an accident. When he reached the quiet, rundown suburb I sort of called home, I leaned forward and squinted past the windshield wipers; a vehicle sat in the driveway and a man stood leaning against the side of it in a heavy dark coat, disregarding the rain that plastered brown hair over his head.

  Pulaski pulled up next to him my driveway, exchanging a look with Thomas in the rearview mirror

  “It’s fine,” I said.

  Pru popped open her door so she could climb out. Denny must’ve recognized us despite the grim day and pouring rain as he reached in to give her a hand without hesitation.

  I followed Prudence out of the car, coming face to face with Chase Denham. Under the mask of heavy rain, I still made out his angry expression.

  “Where’s Em? What the hell is going on?” He reached for me but I backpedaled and thumped into the car at my back.

  Thomas and Pulaski were out and surrounding us in seconds, no weapons drawn but that couldn’t be far off. I didn’t live in a great neighborhood but random gunfire in my driveway would be noticed.

  “Inside,” I said and waited a beat for the others to move first. It was Prudence who took the lead, and when Denny kept his grip on her forearm, she let him lead her. Pru wasn’t an invalid by any means but the abduction, lack of sleep, and missing her meds could leave her exhausted, and exhaustion brought its own set of challenges. I kept up behind them, Thomas and Pulaski at my heels. Pru didn’t have her key so I moved ahead and let everyone inside.

  For a moment I had at least something to do—someone to mother, someone to take care of, and I let myself latch onto that because otherwise I’d dwell and worry and go entirely mad, and then be useless to Em wherever she was. I disregarded my boots and trekked down the hall, around into the kitchen, and immediately got the kettle going.

  “Get changed and get settled,” I called over my shoulder as I busied about. Mug. A calming mix of chamomile and other herbs. Teaspoon set to the side. Honey. I hadn’t offered something to the others but didn’t care—Pru was my focus. “I’ll bring you some tea and—”

  “Liv.”

  I turned to see Pru in the doorway alone, still in her damp, rumpled track pants and T-shirt, eyes brimming with tears.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t help,” she whispered. “I’m sorry she—”

  I crossed the kitchen in three long strides, boots slapping against linoleum and puddles of water from the fridge, and grabbed her in a hug. For a moment I slipped, my own eyes watering, chest aching, and I drew a sniffling, ragged breath through my nose. “I should’ve had you wake her up, I should’ve spoke to her—I thought it was best if she slept but she didn’t know...I let her go without letting her know—”

  “She knows. It’s okay.” Pru patted my back.

  “But—”

  “But we’ll find her,” Pru promised, and I realized this wasn’t me comforting her, wasn’t me reassuring and being the mother hen. No, I needed the reassurance—I needed someone to promise me everything was going to be okay, and Pru was good at that.

  While I wouldn’t break, wouldn’t lose it completely, I sagged for a moment and let myself flail in the terror that this all would end badly and there was nothing I could do about it.

  I only allowed myself a moment before I pulled back and wiped furiously at my eyes. “I’m getting you some tea, so why don’t you go lie down—”

  “I’m not doing anything until we get Em back. You’re not alone in this and you’re going to let me help.”

  I slumped against the counter at my back and looked away. “If I don’t go full blown control freak on this sitch, I’m going to break.”

  “You’re not going to break. You’re going to put on your big girl panties, figure out what’s going on, and come up with a plan, and everything’s going to be okay.”

  I nearly smiled. “Fight now, cry later.”

  She nodded. “Now, you go get changed while I take a pill and make us tea. No matter what the Brute Squad says about staying, we’re finding her.”

  “I want bourbon.”

  “Bourbon for you, tea for me, then.”

  Another sniffle and this time I did smile. “I love you.”

  “I love you too. And I love Em. So let’s get moving.”

  I didn’t argue but passed her as she continued on into the kitchen to take care of the tea and find her meds. Pulaski and Thomas stood in the front hall at attention, as if waiting further orders, with Denny between them.

  “He can stay,” I said, then gestured over my shoulder. “There’s a back sliding door between the living room and laundry room, if one of you wants to watch it while the other takes point here. No other exits.”

  “We know,” Pulaski said, his face flushing. As if I hadn’t already realized they’d thoroughly checked out my house. He moved to take the back door and Denny followed, though his focus was on me.

  And I couldn’t take it. Not for a second. His worry would pile onto my own and I’d be useless, so I avoided his gaze and stomped down the dark hall and into my room at the end. Rain pattered against the windows, a steady thump and sending dappled shadows across my bed and floor.

  I stripped off my coat; it was soaked and the rough hem suggested it had been singed in the fire, ruined. Next went my boots, my gun holster and weapons, then my straight legged slacks. A jagged cut ran up my ankle and across part of my calf, two inches of it barely a scratch and a deeper puncture higher up. Pressure from my fingertip produced flaring pain and a well of blood—must’ve been from the broken glass in the window frame. Not deep enough to require stitches, I disregarded it—it was no worse than my forearm where the bullet had grazed, and that was bound up tightly and not causing problems. West’s handiwork had held but then I hadn’t needed to push myself and risk further injury.

  Yet.

  Steps approached and belatedly I realized I hadn’t closed the door. Just as I turned to do so, I paused as Denny appeared in the threshold.

  “Don’t start,” I whispered.

  “What the hell is going on, Olivia?”

  I avoided his gaze and stalked across the room, just in my fitted black tee and underwear. Denny had seen far more of me seven years ago and other than some muscle, scars from work, and pregnancy stretch marks, not much had changed. Instead of getting worked up over it, I moved instead for the dresser and jerked the top drawer open.

  “Liv!”

  My hand froze, locked around a pair of black yoga pants, but I couldn’t look at him—just listened, tense to the point I was almost tremoring.

  “Where is she?”

  I hated the way his voice seemed to break, like the edges snapped off and cut me as well. I sucked in a breath, tried to calm myself, and went back to dragging out a pair of pants to wear. “I don’t know.”

  “What happened?”

  I shook my head.

  “Liv, you look like someone beat the shit out of you.”

  “It’s just a job thing.”

  “That’s not what normal people look like when they come home from work.”

  Well, I’m not fucking normal, now am I? My balance was off and I leaned against
the dresser as I dragged the pants on; the edge of the drawer dug into one of my many bruises and I winced. “I stole the Seal of Solomon from a cave in Ethiopia for my employer, who is apparently a bad guy”—and not human at that—“and despite the fact that I broke several laws both domestic and international in getting it home, he didn’t entirely believe I’d keep up my end of the contract.”

  “What?”

  Where Denny fell on the scale of Pulse deniers to Pulse believers, I didn’t know and had no desire to test. My pants on, I jerked the elastic from my tangled hair and shook the mane out, then grasped my brush, a bottle of spray leave-in conditioner, my guns and holster, and started for the door.

  His hands came down on my shoulders before I could push past him. Even with my hands engaged, I could slip away easily, but instead held still. Reluctantly I lifted my gaze to meet his.

  Wet dark brown curls were mussed and fell across his forehead, around his ears; his brown suede coat was black with rain and possibly wrecked after standing outside waiting for us for however long he’d been there. He was likely cold and uncomfortable, still in shoes, jeans soaked, but he showed none of it, just concern in his dark eyes.

  “Where’s my daughter? What the hell did you get into?”

  I stiffened. “She is not yours, Chase. How many fucking times do I have to say that for you to get it through your head?”

  “Liv—” The pain in his eyes nearly broke me further, that same sad look Em had the other night when I snapped at her regarding the same subject, but I shoved guilt aside and shrugged his hands off my shoulders.

  “No. The reality is, yes, I fucked up—yes, Em is in trouble. And you are welcome to stay here and help us try to get her back but do not try to guilt me further. I allow you contact with her, but you are not her father and you have absolutely zero authority in this situation. And if you even dream of sending the police or CAS after me for negligence when this was nothing of the sort—”

  “Christ, I wouldn’t—”

  “—you will be out of our lives for good. Now are you going to stay and help, or do I need my two bodyguards out there to make things a bit clearer for you?”

  He blew a breath past his lips. A raindrop rolled from his hair down his brow, along his cheek, and he made no move to swipe at it. The silence was thick and heavy, punctuated by the incessant beat of rain on the windows. “Jesus,” he whispered, a mix of sadness and shock to his tone, and gave the slightest shake of his head. “When’d you get so damn hard?”

  “The day I gave birth.” I pushed past him and padded down the hall, grabbed a towel from the shelf just inside the bathroom on the way, and continued on. My gaze darted briefly to the open door to Em’s room. Giles had moved to the end of the bed, one leg extended so he could gracelessly clean it, oblivious to the rising anxiety of the rest of us. Maybe he knew she’d be back safely soon.

  I envied that cat more than a little.

  32

  Help

  Prudence had her laptop set up on the end table next to the old couch where she sat with a cup of tea; a glass of bourbon on the rocks sat on the coffee table for me. I tossed her the towel for her hair, set down everything I’d been carrying, and opted for the bourbon first. Ice clinked against my teeth as I downed it in one go, then set the glass back on the wet coaster and sat across from Pru.

  Denny hung in my peripheral vision by the doorway, watching us though I pointedly ignored him; Pru, for once, followed my lead. Eventually his steps faded down the hall and I heard the rustle of his coat and shoes as he removed them.

  “Towels in the bathroom, help yourself to the kitchen,” I called, then turned my attention to Pru. “Did you find out anything about him?”

  “Nothing anyone was willing to tell me.” She set her tea cup down and pulled over the laptop. “Any direction you can point me in?”

  Not that I could immediately think of. I leaned forward, elbows on my thighs and shoulders turned inward. I was tired and achy, and if I sat back in the comfortable chair-and-a-half, I’d probably not get up again. “Dawson couldn’t find anything either, just property records in town.” And maybe he’d be worth asking. I rose with my guns and holsters in hand, and went in search of my pack by the front door.

  Thomas still waited there, tall and intimidating—I dared anyone to try to pass him. I eyed him as I hung up the guns and then slipped my backpack strap off the hook by the door. “I was kind of kidding about taking point—you can come in and sit down if you want. Get dry. Have a drink. You must be tired, chasing me around and getting shot and stuff.”

  His expression didn’t change but he fidgeted slightly. In black jeans, a heavy coat, and boots, he didn’t look terribly comfortable and was likely soaked to the bone in rainwater.

  “Seriously,” I gestured over my shoulder to the living room, “I’m not going anywhere, since I don’t actually know where I’m supposed to be going. And West said you were authorized to tell me some stuff.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Supposed to let me leave. But the cat’s out of the bag regarding Ashford since he grew wings and set everything on fire, and whatever West’s game is will probably follow. Maybe you can convince me your boss has everything under control and I won’t have to leave?”

  “I can’t tell you where she is. I’m...I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t know what to tell you. We don’t work in the...the area West does. He called us in to help with the caves, that’s it. We haven’t been briefed on much regarding...Ashford.”

  Briefed? Interesting choice of words. “I’m not asking you to give us a location. But I will want to know everything you know about who took my daughter. Humor me.”

  He gave the door behind him a cautious look, shucked off his coat, then stepped forward and followed me down the hall, back to the living room, even pausing when I stopped to grab the bottle of bourbon. While he wouldn’t sit, he hung in the doorway in the spot Denny had previously occupied, while my ex perched on the arm of the couch and didn’t look at anyone.

  I settled once more in my chair. Though the room was warm and dry, a chill had wrapped around my bones, and I drew the chenille blanket from the back of the chair and settled it on my lap before pouring myself another bourbon. The alcohol burned like liquid fire, warming my veins and somewhat easing the rapid beat of my heart.

  “Okay.” I set down my empty glass and pulled my cell phone from the pack at my feet. “Dawson ran tech and did a lot of research on everyone from my team. He mentioned property Ashford owned. Maybe...maybe we can narrow it down.” I met Pru’s gaze as my phone dialed. “You’d at least know the size, right? Something about the interior?”

  “It was...big,” she said. “Very.”

  “His home?”

  “Probably.”

  “Hey, Liv,” Dawson answered. “Did you find them?”

  His voice brought a measure of comfort beyond even the bourbon—he’d been there when everything in Ethiopia went south and pulled through, which I appreciated. I put the call on speakerphone and set my cell on the coffee table. “Yes and no. I wish this was a social call, but...”

  “Uh oh.”

  You said it. I debated pouring another drink, but I wanted a clear head for this. “So you remember I got arrested in customs.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Ashford took that as a sign that I defected. West had me try to trick him with a fake ring and it went really, really badly. Like, burning building badly.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Actually, a genie, apparently, but we’ll get to that in a second. I got Pru back but he still has my little girl and I don’t know where.”

  “Got ya. Pru’s the hot friend?”

  Pru pressed her lips together, fighting a chuckle.

  “Yes, and Dawson? You’re on speakerphone.”

  Silence. “Ah. Um...hi, Livi’s hot friend.”

  Prudence cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you, Dawson.”

  “Okay, you said...genie?”

 
; I glanced back at Thomas, who nodded. “Yes. Actually, djinn. West specifically said afreet.”

  “After the dragons I think I’m just gonna go with it and not ask questions.”

  “That’s probably best. I don’t suppose you know how to contact Laurel?” If anyone knew at least where Ashford was and maybe what he was, it would be her. It wasn’t like anything worse could happen by talking to her.

  “She was staying here at the hotel but I haven’t talked to her since last night. I tried earlier for you but no answer.”

  I sighed. “She told me this morning she’d already resigned.”

  “Yeah, I think she was leaving town. My flight back to Austin leaves in six hours and it’s not like we’re BFFs.”

  Fuck. “If you can keep trying to ring her, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Will do. Next, you want Ashford’s property records?”

  “That would be lovely.”

  Thomas caught my eye. “This really isn’t a good idea.”

  “By the way,” I spoke to Dawson while looking at Thomas, “West left two of his people here to babysit. I’m not supposed to be pursuing this. So Pru’s going to give you some contact information and you two can coordinate over Skype instead.” I rose and handed the phone to Pru, then went to Thomas and gestured for him to follow.

  We rounded the corner where Pulaski waited by the back door, looking out on a grim, rainy day.

  “You both know as soon as I have a location I’m going to leave,” I said in a low voice, not waiting for them to respond. “And that’s just going to piss off West that you let me get away. Help me, here.”

  “We don’t know—” Pulaski started.

  “You said you were briefed.” My gaze flickered back and forth between them, eye level to look at Pulaski and up to the point it was almost a strain to gauge Thomas. “And that I’m caught in the middle of something here. Who do you work for?”

  Pulaski shot his partner a look.

  “She’s not stupid,” Thomas said. “West should’ve told her to start with.”

  “We’re not authorized—”