by Devon Monk
“And it’s just a hunt?” Bea asked. “Just tracking the guy down, or are we going to have to do a little covering up of our own?”
Had she just told me she was willing to kill someone and cover it up? She gave me a happy smile, but that glint in her eyes told me that, yes, she’d just offered to off someone.
“No killing. No cover-ups. I don’t even want us buying anyone off for information. What I want is zero trail. We do this, we find him, you get paid. All of you. And we do not speak of this again.”
“How much?”
“Five thousand apiece.”
Nods all around. Done deal.
“Here’s his sig,” Sid handed the screen to Jack, who was on his right. He studied the screen.
“Yeah, I’ve seen it. Not on a job, though.”
He passed it to Bea, and she passed it to Davy, and so on around the circle until all the Hounds had a look at it.
Theresa handed it to me. I took it and looked, even though I didn’t have to. I knew exactly how Dane cast magic. I’d recently had it thrown at me.
“Other specifics?” Davy asked.
“Smells like old vitamins to me,” I said. “Carries a gun. Had five other armed men with him I’ve never seen before. Nothing to make them stand out in a crowd. All white, dark haired, average height and weight, somewhere between twenty and fifty.”
“So this is going to be easy is what you’re saying?” Davy said.
I gave him a look. “For five thousand, I expect to see you sweat.”
He grinned.
The excitement in the room was palpable. I’m serious. Hounds loved getting into shit. The more dangerous, the better.
“He might have a woman with him,” I added.
“There any more detail you going to give us on that?” Jamar asked.
Sid adjusted his glasses again, his fingers poised above his screen.
“Sedra Miller,” I said.
Sid tapped. Turned the screen around. “Her?”
I almost didn’t recognize her. She was laughing, her hair down. She wore jeans and a soft blue T-shirt that made her eyes look like sapphires. And it was her eyes that threw me the most. Something was different. As if the woman who looked at the camera was not at all the stern, ice-cold woman whom I’d known as the Head of the Authority. Yes, Dane looked different in his picture, but not to the same degree.
Sedra looked like a completely different person.
“No?” Sid prompted.
“No. I mean, yes. That’s her. I’ve just never seen her look that happy.”
“Interesting,” he said. He turned the screen and worked on pulling up her signature.
“Is she in danger?” Jack asked.
“I don’t know. She shouldn’t be. Not from Dane.”
Sid made a little huh sound. “She’s not registered.”
It didn’t surprise me.
“She uses?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Says here she’s one hundred percent nonuse on magic,” he said.
“Won’t be the first time the city records are wrong,” I said.
“Let me check a couple back sources.” His fingers flew over the tablet. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t help. If Sedra didn’t want people to know she used magic, people would not know.
“So how are we going to break this up?” Theresa asked. “It’s a big city to cover.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” I said.
“Carpet bomb,” Davy said.
We all looked at him. He put his coffee cup down. “We each take a compass point on the inside of the city. Throw a netted Sight spell—wide and light. Should be able to cover a mile radius. Move out to the edge of the net, cast again. We stagger it a bit, and if we use a light touch, it won’t show up on the networks, so Stotts won’t see it. We can take it all the way to the Coast Range and the mountains if we need too, or as far up into Washington or down I-5 as we want.”
“You’ve thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” I asked.
“Something Pike used to talk about.”
“Not to me.”
“You never got drunk with him.”
That was true.
“He used to do this kind of shit back in the day with some friends of his,” Davy said.
It was also true that Pike never once spoke to me about his friends. Or his back-in-the-day.
“So how do we make sure we don’t double up?” I asked.
“Won’t matter if there’s some overlap,” he said.
“I’ll keep track,” Sid said. “Hand over your cell phones.”
Not one of us did. Have I mentioned that Hounds are suspicious people?
“Why?” I asked.
“I’ll track and graph. Under the radar—don’t worry. This won’t ping, and even if we are investigated, we won’t be linked.”
My appraisal of Sid just went up several notches. “You’ve been holding out on us,” I said.
He chuckled. “I don’t think I’m the only one in the room with Hounding secrets.”
I didn’t know what he did. All it looked like was he passed each of our phones over the top of his screen, waited a second, then passed the next phone over it.
Until he got to mine.
“Where in God’s green did you get this thing?” he asked.
Everyone looked at my phone. Have I mentioned that Hounds are also curious people?
“My dad’s corporation.” That was a lie. They all knew it, could smell it on me. I didn’t care.
“Well. He knows how to cater to the paranoid.” He handed the phone back to me. “Never seen something warded that tight, but I got it. If your dad’s ‘corporation’ ever decides to sell a few of those, I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on one.”
I doubted Maeve wanted to start supplying cell phones to Hounds.
“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” I said. “Let’s do this.” We divvied up which section of town we were going to cover, four sets of two, because Pike said a Hound should always have a backup, and I was not about to break that golden rule.
Jack and Bea took east, Jamar and Theresa took south, Davy and I took west, and Sid and Dahlia took north.
“Anyone finds him, call me,” I said.
I took the sign off the door, crumpled it, and stuffed it in my jacket pocket. By the time I hit the stairs, everyone else had already taken either the elevator or the stairs. At the lobby, there was only one person waiting. Davy. He grinned.
“This is going to be the easiest five thousand I’ve ever made.”
“I hope so,” I said.
We headed out. My phone rang. Zay. Again.
Seriously, couldn’t the man catch a hint?
I answered. “Beckstrom.”
“Where’s everyone off to?”
I scanned the streets. Zay was standing on the corner across the street, Shamus behind him, leaning against the building, smoking.
Oh, for Pete’s sake.
“Nowhere.”
“That so? Looks like you’ve got a hunt on your hands.”
“It was a meeting.”
He started across the street. The light hadn’t changed, but somehow traffic seemed to move in rhythm to his stride, a perfect path opening up as he moved across the street toward me, not once taking his eyes off me. Man walked like a goddamned god.
“Who are they hunting? What are they hunting? What are you up to, Allison, my love?”
He was across three lanes, one more before he was in front of me. That is, if a bus didn’t hit him.
“None of your damn business,” I said sweetly into the phone.
And then he was there, in my space, so close, I could smell the pine and anger rolling off him. He was power, magic, sex, raw, brute force. A thunderstorm embodied.
I gave him a disinterested look.
The corner of his lip quirked up.
“How about I say please?” he said into his phone even though there was less than six inches separating us.
> “Hound business is Hound business,” I replied.
“Don’t make me drag it out of Davy.”
“Fuck you,” Davy laughed. “I’m not your girlfriend.”
Zay put his phone down. Thumbed it off. “Who are you hunting, girlfriend?” he asked.
I saw no reason to keep it a secret. Well, besides the fact that he could Close me or Davy with the flick of his fingers. “Dane. For shooting me.”
He searched my eyes. Must have caught the hint that I didn’t give a damn what he thought about that.
“Shame and I will go with you.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“More feet on the ground. That’s what you said, right?” He turned toward Davy. “How are we doing this?”
“Talk to the boss.”
He turned back to me. “Well, boss?”
“Sight spells. Light. We’re just looking for his signature. If he’s found, I’m to be contacted. No engaging.”
“And after you are contacted?”
Oh, I did not want to tell him that I had planned to follow the rules and call him and Victor. “I’ll take care of it.”
Anger flashed through his eyes, the brown gone much, much too gold.
“We got it covered, Jones,” I said airily. “Don’t really need more feet on the ground.”
He reached out, grabbed my arm. Davy pushed off from the car he’d been leaning on.
Zay pulled me in and kissed me.
Oh. My. Sweet. Heavens. A rush of heat enveloped me, and I tasted his anger—and his amusement. He was hot, turned on. He liked it when I took charge.
Before I could do more than register his need, before I could exhale the pressure and heat his touch, his kiss, planted in me, he pulled back.
“So where do you want me?” he asked.
Memories of his naked body, lowering over the top of me, flashed through my mind.
No. No way. I would not be distracted by him.
“Fine. If I can’t get rid of you, then take the southwest side of town. Sight. Mile radius. Don’t trip the grid. Think you can handle that?”
“Well, I’m no Hound,” he said, “but I’ll see what I can do.”
“If you find him—If you find anything, call me.”
He gave me a grin. “I don’t think you’re paying me to call you.”
“If you’re on this hunt, you’re on this payroll.”
“Yeah? How much?”
“I’ll buy you a beer.”
He shook his head. I started walking toward Davy’s car.
“She buying you a beer?” he asked Davy as we passed by.
“Yep. About a thousand of them.”
I didn’t look back. I knew Zay could take care of himself. I just hoped he kept his mouth shut and didn’t drag Victor into this. Victor hadn’t exactly been excited about the idea of working with the Hounds.
Yeah, and Victor hadn’t had a member of the Authority shoot him before breakfast.
I got in Davy’s car. “You think he can do it?” he asked.
“What?”
“Cast Sight in a mile radius? It takes some finesse to do it without tripping the networks.”
“He won’t get caught, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“He’s not a Hound,” Davy said.
“No.”
“Who does he work for anyway?”
“Right now? No one.” I was talking about his body-guarding jobs, which is the only thing most people knew Zay did for a living. And since I was telling the truth about that, I didn’t think Davy would sense the half lie.
“He’s a part of them, isn’t he?”
“What?”
We were well on our way across town. Looked like Davy was going to take the northwest first, then west, then southwest, and we’d work our way as we went. The good thing about doing this in twos was that one person could drive, one could throw magic around.
“If I were a group of people who didn’t want my secrets found out,” Davy said, “he’d be the kind of person I’d hire. Plus, how else would he know you’d been shot and wasn’t surprised you were going to go out hunting for the guy?”
“Has anyone told you too much thinking is bad for you health?”
“Not lately.”
I didn’t say any more. I’d rather Davy make up his own mind than tip him off to the truth by either telling the truth or having him catch me in a lie.
“You throwing?” he asked.
“I’ll start. If I get winded, I’ll drive and you can cast.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I very carefully cleared my mind. Took me a little longer than I’d wanted it to. The memories of Zayvion kept rolling up behind my eyes every time I closed them. So instead I sang a little song, just the first few lines of a jump-rope tune.
“Anytime’s good,” Davy said quietly.
I opened my eyes, drew a glyph for Sight with my palm open, not using my fingertips to focus the spell, but letting my Sight be opened, wide, clear. I concentrated on the one-mile limit around me—something that took years to master through college, or months, if you were Hounding for your life—and pulled magic into the spell, casting it out like a weighted net on a lake.
I felt the spell stretch out, then drift down soft and light. Saw, for a brief but clear moment, all the spells being used within a one-mile radius. Did not sense Dane’s signature among them.
And that was one of the drawbacks of using Sight like this. You got only the most general impression of the magical signatures in the area. In a way, you were hoping something triggered your subconscious mind. Hoping you would luck out and be able to sort that one signature from a city full of signatures.
“Keep moving,” I said.
Davy drove. Another mile; I cast the same spell. Nothing. Another mile. Cast. Repeat.
It was like standing in the ocean, waves of magic washing past me, the watercolor hint of the Veiled, the spells and charms and wards worked for business, pleasure, and pain. Overwhelming. Exhausting. Like hearing the voices of the entire city, speaking in magic, all at once.
By the time we hit Beaverton and were on our way to Aloha, I was exhausted, and a headache was closing in. “Your turn. I’ll drive,” I said.
Davy pulled off the main street, and we switched places. The air, and the short walk around the car, did a world of good for my head. I also remembered to check my pocket and take one of those pills Dr. Fisher had given me.
I got in behind the wheel and adjusted the mirror. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
Davy tipped his head back, closed his eyes for a second, then nodded. “Go.”
I went. He threw Sight every mile I drove, sorting and sifting through thousands of signatures, millions of spells.
It wasn’t as slow as doing it on foot, but still, after another hour, and another switch, when I threw for an hour, we were done.
And no one had called to say they’d caught wind of the bastard.
Fuck it all.
“Want me to take you home?” Davy was headed back toward Portland. The sun was just starting to set, traffic thickening, headlights flickering in the deep burgundy light of sunset. I leaned my head against the window, the cool glass and engine vibration helping to keep my mind off my headache. We’d covered all the way from Glenwood to Yamhill. I was exhausted.
“Please.” I pulled out my cell phone, stared at it, willing it to ring. Nothing.
“How can he not be anywhere?” I muttered.
“If he shot you this morning, he could have driven to Canada by now.”
“True,” I said. But I knew he hadn’t. This was a local fight. And what Dane wanted—presumably to return Sedra to the control of the Authority—he’d achieve only if he stayed here and dealt with it.
And with all the nooks and crannies the Authority owned, there was every chance he was hunkered down, hidden beneath a blind we couldn’t penetrate.
“We’ll keep looking,” Davy said.
“Will do.”
He dropped me off at my apartment. I didn’t see Zay’s or Shamus’ car. I let myself in the back door and made my way up. Paused at my apartment door and listened for movement on the other side.
Nothing.
Good.
I stepped into my home, hung my coat on the back of the door, and pulled out my notebook. I needed to get down today’s events and did so as I wandered into the kitchen. It didn’t take long. Then I started some coffee and rummaged in the refrigerator. Not a lot in there. A couple cartons of Chinese food, two California rolls, and some juice and condiments. I needed to go shopping.
I popped one of the California rolls in my mouth and went into the living room to check my messages. Nothing.
I hadn’t had the chance to shower today and wanted a change of clothes, so I went into the bedroom, got out of everything, then took a quick shower. My hip felt like the mother of all bruises but was still moving pretty good.
Dad, who had been silent for almost the entire day, stretched out in my mind. He was still cocooned in the spell Victor and Shame had worked on him, so it was a strange feeling. Almost like a tap on the shoulder to catch my attention.
I turned my attention to him as I dried off, hoping like crazy that he couldn’t actually feel me drying my naked body.
What?
How do you think Dane defeated Jingo Jingo? Dane and Jingo were evenly matched in magical ability.
You tell me. I walked into my bedroom. A gray hand patted the window, and then Stone stuck his head down and peered into my room. He tugged on the sill, pulled the window wide, and scuttled in.
“Window,” I said. “Close it.”
He stood up on his back legs and stuck his snout into the open space, sniffing as he pulled the window down lower and lower until he had to tip his head sideways so his nose could still fit in the crack. With one last sniff of fresh air, he closed the window.
The disks, Dad said. But he would need more than just disks to take down Jingo Jingo.
How about a gun? I said. Dane seems pretty happy to use those.
Jingo wasn’t shot.
I frowned as I carefully pulled a sweatshirt over my head. I decided to go without the sling for a while and see how my arm did.
Jingo had been such a mess, I didn’t know how my dad could tell if he had been shot or not. But I hadn’t smelled gunpowder in the room. Only magic and blood.
