I wandered back to my bed and sat down on the edge, staring blankly at the wall. My hands had started shaking again. Right now, Royce seemed like my safest bet, seeing as he was the only one of the three who hadn’t threatened me. Yet.
I was so dead.
Chapter 8
After a very long, very sleepless night, I finally broke down and called Sara around 7:30. That was pushing it on a Saturday morning, but I desperately needed some reassurances. She picked up on the fifth ring.
“Ugh. Yeah, what?” Her grouchy, morning-gravelly voice was comforting in its familiarity.
“Sara, someone broke in during the night. I’m in deep. I met with Royce last night, and now I’ve got White Hats on my tail.”
Yeesh, and I’d thought the White Hats were being melodramatic last night. Must be rubbing off.
“What?!”
The edge to her voice made me cringe. I hadn’t quite meant to get it all out in a rush like that, but there was no help for it now.
“Shia, what the hell? I mean, great, you got ahold of Royce, but what’s with the White Hats? Are you okay? Anything stolen?”
Sighing, I rubbed a hand over my face. “No, nothing stolen. I’m okay. These two guys broke in through the fire escape and politely asked me at knifepoint to join their cause.”
Her silence was making me nervous.
Then she said quietly, “And what did you tell them?”
“I invited them for tea and crumpets. Give me a break, Sara, I told them to get the hell out and leave me alone.”
She sounded more relieved than anything. “I was just checking, chill out. So what’re you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Probably go down to see Veronica today and take her up on that offer for equipment. Might as well take advantage of it. Maybe they have something useful against vamps and rogue zealots.”
After a short bark of laughter, she asked, a little more normally, “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I’m okay. I just needed to tell someone.”
My turn to hesitate. I didn’t like having to say the next part, but the White Hats didn’t leave me a lot of choice after last night. Not that I’d had a choice since agreeing to work for The Circle.
“Listen, watch your back. I know this is my run, but I’ve got a bad feeling this one’s going to go wonky and I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”
“Hey, what are partners for? If you need a place to crash until this blows over, just bring some clothes and come by. Oh, and check in with me before sunset or I’ll come looking.”
“Thanks, I may just take you up on that. I’ll call you after I see what The Circle’s got to offer.”
“Be careful, Shia.”
“I will. Thanks, Sara.”
Only after I hung up did I remember that I was supposed to chew her out for not telling me about the financial straits our business was in. Oh well. I’d bug her about it when I had a few less important things on my mind. Things like my impending demise and need to decide what side of the supernatural fence I was on.
I still had the jitters and didn’t feel like lying around, so I got up to shower and get dressed. After pulling on a comfortable pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, I made myself a bagel with lox and cream cheese, a cup of coffee, and headed over to my computer. A few clicks and passwords later, I was staring at my e-mail.
Two were from Mom, one a joke and the other a reminder for Sara and me that my brother Damien’s birthday barbecue was on Sunday. Spam. Spam. More spam. A note from my brother Mikey asking if I knew what Damien wanted and if I wanted in on a joint gift. A few offers to enlarge my PEN15 and get a better mortgage rate. Lo and behold, my in-box also had an e-mail from Veronica Wright sent early last night, and another from Alec Royce from less than two hours ago.
The sun had risen about three hours ago. Did that mean vamps could move about in daylight? Great, that was more than I needed to know.
I clicked open Veronica’s e-mail first.
TO: S. Waynest
FROM: Veronica Wright
SUBJECT: Update
I haven’t heard since you signed the contract Thursday. I am concerned. Update?
Irritated at her impatience, I clattered out a quick response.
Met with our subject last night. Progress being made. I would like to get together with you this afternoon RE: equipment. Are you available?
Next came Royce’s message. I remembered belatedly that he’d written something on the back of his business card before he gave it to me, and wondered if that had anything to do with it.
TO: S. Waynest
FROM: Alec D. Royce
SUBJECT: Security
I have received word that our friends the W.H.s have paid you a visit.
That was scary. How the heck did he know about that already? Chilled, I pressed on, scanning the rest of the note.
I would be displeased to see our business relationship terminated prior to completion of your assignment. I will extend you some measure of protection against the W.H. element and give you an update on the missing boy.
The requisite forms are filled out and the warrant should be signed by noon. Call the number on the back of my card if something comes up during the day.
Please come to my office on 52nd as soon as convenient after sunset. Present my card at the security desk for entrance.
Cordially,
Alec D. Royce
A. D. Royce Industries
Well, that was a development. Why was he offering me protection now? What exactly did he plan to do to keep the White Hats off my back? Something about the letter struck me as off, aside from the fact that I was reading an e-mail from a friggin’ vampire. Royce was supposedly older than dirt, but he didn’t appear to be the technophobe I would’ve thought considering the height of technology at the time he was made a vamp was probably a sundial.
Reading it over a second time, I decided that there were two things about it that bothered me. First, he was being far more formal in writing than he’d been in person. Second, “prior to completion of your assignment” didn’t quite make sense. It was just a little too carefully worded. It was the sort of thing that made me think he might really know about the agreement I had with The Circle and that he was planning on using me to get to them somehow.
Maybe I was reading too much into everything.
I jotted down a quick “I’ll be there” reply and sent it. Just as I was about to turn off the monitor, another e-mail popped into my in-box. Veronica was an early riser, apparently. I opened the e-mail.
Come by at 2PM. Ask for Arnold at the front desk. He’ll get you whatever you need.
Nice. Things were starting to look up. Maybe when I met with Royce this evening, I’d actually be prepared for it.
Chapter 9
Even though I’d forced myself to lie down and take a nap so I wouldn’t be a complete zombie later that night, I was still feeling groggy when I entered the lobby of The Circle’s downtown office tower. I’d almost slept through my alarm and ended up hurriedly throwing on presentable clothes, fluffing my hair and slapping on some makeup before running out the door. Traffic had been hell, and even though I knew it was better to park somewhere and take the train, I just didn’t want to deal with it. So between traffic and finding parking, I was twenty minutes late.
The design in the lobby was impressive: lofty ceilings; high windows that allowed sunlight to stream in; low-slung red couches; and intricate arcane symbols inlaid on the floor. Feeling hassled, rumpled, and cranky, I approached a sleek, polished desk where a bored-looking receptionist tapped away at her keyboard. She didn’t bother to look up.
“Excuse me? I’m here to see Arnold.”
The girl slowly raised her eyes from her flatscreen monitor to look at me over the rim of her glasses with cool, studied contempt. I couldn’t help but notice that her clothes were all trendier and nicer than mine and that her expensively dyed blond hair framed a thin, elfin face with heavy, but e
xpertly applied, makeup. She was stick-thin and pretty enough to be modeling those clothes on a runway somewhere.
She looked me up and down and cocked a dismissive eyebrow before sliding her eyes back to the screen. Obviously, I failed her inspection.
“You’re late.”
More tapping on the keyboard. A pause.
“He’ll come get you in a moment. Please have a seat, ma’am.”
The bored voice couldn’t hide the underlying irritation. I’d probably interrupted a game of solitaire.
Making a heroic effort not to flip her off, I hefted my purse higher on my shoulder and had a seat on one of the uncomfortable but stylish red couches. The magazines spread on the table were up to date, but stuff I’d never read. Arcana Quarterly and Familiar Fashion: How to Accessorize Your Fae Focus just isn’t my cup of tea. I pulled out my cell and started fumbling with the text messages, trying to find something to focus on other than the rapid clicking of nails over keys coming in rattling spurts every few seconds from the reception desk.
Arnold kept me waiting exactly thirty minutes. His way of telling me off for coming late, I supposed. I looked up at the sound of him clearing his throat from the glass double doors next to the receptionist’s desk.
He was tall, skinny, with thick glasses perched on a narrow nose and an untidy mop of sandy brown hair, and wearing jeans and a faded T-shirt that read JESUS SAVES. THE REST OF YOU TAKE DAMAGE. Oh great, a geek.
“Ms. Waynest?” He appeared distracted, glancing at me from a thick sheaf of papers he clutched in one ink-stained hand, offering the other to me to shake. His shy, somewhat weak smile was genuine, however, and I realized he hadn’t been keeping me waiting on purpose. He was probably just tied up in his work. He actually looked a trifle apologetic under all the distraction.
“Thank you for seeing me, Mr., uh…Arnold.” I realized I didn’t know his last name. “Veronica told me you’d be able to help me.”
He nodded, reddening a bit at the mention of Veronica. A crush, perhaps? Poor guy. That love was destined to remain unrequited, and for more than one reason if her hitting on me in the restaurant the other night was any indication.
“Yes, ah, Ms. Wright told me you were coming. She said you needed something from our security vaults, is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
I found myself liking the guy despite his geekiness. He was nice enough. Too bad he worked for scum like Veronica.
“This way, please. Follow me.” The receptionist didn’t look up once, still tapping away as I followed the guy into the room behind the glass doors.
Inside it looked pretty much indistinguishable from any other cube farm in corporate America. Gray and drab, with a few amusing cartoons tacked to cube walls or mildly entertaining screensavers on the computers we passed, but otherwise unremarkable. I couldn’t hear the sounds of anyone working, and it looked pretty deserted. Guess even magi took the weekends off.
He led me to an elevator oddly stuck in the middle of the floor between two rows of cubicles. I wasn’t going to question it. Magi could do whatever the hell they wanted with their architecture.
As we stepped inside, he pressed the button for the lowest basement level instead of one of the double-digit high-rise levels I was expecting. All the corporate bigwigs must get the view.
He didn’t speak during the short ride, just zoned back into the papers he was holding. When the doors opened, he looked up with confusion, as if surprised we had arrived so soon. Weird.
Stepping out, he led the way down a damp, obviously underground hallway. Thick insulation pipes ran overhead and the paint was dull, institutional gray-blue. We passed a number of doors, one or two with strange inscriptions where one would expect a name tag or some such. Then I noticed we passed one that had a nameplate for the boiler room. Lovely. Poor Arnold must be among the lowest of the low on the corporate ladder to be stuck working down here.
We rounded a bend or two, then he abruptly stopped at an unmarked door with peeling paint. I probably would’ve walked right past it. There was nothing special about it that I could see, but he opened it anyway and stepped inside.
Following him into the room, I was a little disappointed to see it looked like an entirely unremarkable, if high-tech, security office. A collection of monitors gleamed against one wall showing various scenes inside and around the building. A guard in a slate gray uniform glanced over at us briefly at the sound of my heels clicking against the floor but soon returned his attention to the monitors. A couple of fans were running, keeping the computers under the table cool. I noted with some amusement that the guy was hiding a paperback under one thick palm against his leg, probably hoping we wouldn’t notice.
Arnold continued walking, nose in his papers, and I have to admit to being surprised when he walked without stopping into the blank far wall and disappeared. I paused, mouth agape, not sure whether to attempt to follow or just stand there staring like an idiot. Guess which option I took.
“You can follow him. Just keep walking straight ahead, you’ll be fine.”
The guard’s voice was bemused but kindly, and I felt just a little foolish for being so shocked. Magi do magic. Duh. I should expect that here. It still gave me the willies.
Swallowing my discomfort and putting on a brave face, I took the guy’s direction and kept walking. I shut my eyes when I got close, expecting-but-not to have my face smashed when I walked into the wall. Nothing happened. Well, nothing except a slight tingling sensation against my skin and my footsteps suddenly being muted by carpet.
Opening my eyes, I saw Arnold watching me expectantly from across the room. I took it all in, feeling a mix of elation at having survived walking through the wall with my dignity intact and disappointment for the plain homeliness of the room he’d brought me to. There was a big, beat-up desk in the middle of the room, one leg propped up with a bit of cardboard to keep it level. There were tons of papers scattered around the room and on the desk, piled on a table off to the side and on top of the two tall filing cabinets shoved into a corner. A pizza box was perched on top of one pile, an open box of Chinese food, and a couple of coffee mugs on the desk. One held pens and pencils, the other what looked to be very old tea. The smell was a mix of old pizza and gym socks, with a very faint undertone of incense.
I knew it was Arnold’s office almost immediately, not because of the clutter but because of the scatter of dice on the desk and the dinosaur and alien action figures on top of his monitor.
“I just need you to sign a form for me, then we can go into the vault.”
I shrugged and took the form he deftly pulled from somewhere in the middle of the stack in his arm. Looked like a standard requisition form, nothing terribly exciting. I signed and dated it and left it on the desk. He dropped the rest of his stack of papers next to it with a muted “thump” and moved behind the desk, twisting a ring on one of his fingers before placing a hand against the wall. I blinked as he revealed another wall behind it as the first simply blinked out of existence at his touch.
This one looked like the back of a cave, all sandstone and multicolored layers of reddish rock. It curved inward a few feet behind the desk. There were a pair of arched double doors made out of some kind of gray stone, closed tight and covered with intricate patterns—runes or something like them, I supposed.
The hair on the back of my neck rose when I realized the runes were moving and changing even as I stared at them. Solid stone is not supposed to move.
An idle wave of Arnold’s hand and a short “Aperto” and the thick, rune-inscribed doors slowly opened inward.
Chapter 10
“Don’t touch anything while we’re inside without asking first,” Arnold said before we walked through the doors. “Some of the stuff in here is dying to get out and might try to attach itself to you.”
Oh great. Sentient artifacts, just the sort of thing to make my day.
He led the way inside. The walls here were of red sandstone marked wit
h runes similar to the ones on the doors. Every few feet there were arches with burning torches for light. The flickering lights drew my attention to the runes that moved and swirled in a way that was making me feel dizzy. I had the sick feeling we left New York behind the minute we walked through those arches.
“What did you need exactly anyway? Vero didn’t tell me what to give you.”
I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t sound too ridiculous and unprofessional. “I was hoping you might be able to tell me. I was hired to find a statuette in the possession of a vampire.”
He snorted laughter, drawing my attention sharply to him and off the weird walls. “Oh, that. I’ve got just the thing.”
We continued on for what seemed like forever. I should’ve worn flats instead of heels. Abruptly, the tunnel opened up into a large circular chamber with other tunnels branching off in four other directions. I noted the five-sided star etched into the sandstone, each point set before a tunnel opening, including the one we now stood in. There were fat candles set on each point of the star, none lit.
“Luminare,” he whispered, and I took an involuntary step back as the candles simultaneously lit themselves up. “Guidare.”
One by one, the candles flickered out, leaving only one with a steady flame. He gestured cheerfully, his voice resuming normal tones. “That way. Follow me.”
I did. My curiosity was really getting the best of me. “What’s down the other tunnels?”
“Traps. Death for the really stupid.” He was pretty nonchalant, considering the topic. “Most of the ones who make it this far don’t know enough or are too arrogant to ask for guidance. We put that little safeguard in a couple years ago. Works like a charm.”
I swallowed hard. “Who comes down here? Aside from you, I mean.”
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