Grave Cargo: Arcane Transporter 1

by Jami Gray

  Sylvia’s gaze sharpened. “Do you know her?”

  I shook my head. “It sounds familiar, but no, I don’t think so.”

  “I’d be surprised if you did. She’s keen on maintaining anonymity whenever possible.”

  That not only sounded ominous but also made me question accepting the job. “Why?”

  Clearly hearing the suspicion in my voice, Sylvia gave me a grim smile and sat back. “Because Sabella Rossi is the matriarch of the Giordano Family.”

  Chapter Four

  “The Giordano Family? As in one of the originating Arcane Families in Europe?” The thought of dealing with one of the biggest and oldest names in magical society had me alternating between clapping in nervous giddiness and fighting the urge to throw up. Talk about stepping out of the shadows and into the spotlight. Hell, I might as well just roll out the red carpet.

  “Yes, that Family,” Sylvia confirmed. “And if you want to be specific, they’re from Italy.”

  Italy or England—wherever didn’t really matter—but it did explain Sabella’s NDA request. Before I could censor, an inane question escaped. “What is she doing in Phoenix?” Color rose under my cheeks, but at least I didn’t compound my gaffe with a face-palm.

  Still, it earned me a raised eyebrow and Sylvia’s dry response. “She prefers our winter to hers.”

  Since I was already stumbling down my unintended road, I kept trotting along. “With summer around the corner, is she planning on heading back soon?” That made me realize another possible challenge to this job. “If she’s looking for a retainer, she may want to ask someone else. I’m not looking to move overseas.” It would suck to lose this chance, but Lena would never forgive me if I bailed on her and our lease.

  This time, Sylvia’s humor escaped in a small smile. “I’m glad to hear that, but a move is not required.”

  It was my turn for skepticism. “Italy.” I held out my left hand. “Phoenix.” My right rose on the other side. I eyed the space between. “That’s a hell of a commute.”

  Sylvia laughed. “Sabella resides here half of the year.”

  My interest stopped pouting and perked up. “So, if this escalates to a retainer—”

  “If she makes the offer,” Sylvia stressed, “you’d be on call when she is in residence.”

  Excitement bubbled, edging out my personal concerns. Being on call for half the year could work. “Makes sense.” I added Sabella’s name and information into my phone and handed back the sticky note. Then, despite my best intentions, my paranoid concerns got the better of me. “Why me?” It was a legit question that didn’t reveal my real worry, as there were a couple of established Transporter names whose shingles had been hanging up long enough to lose the shine mine still held.

  Sylvia took the small piece of paper, spun her chair so her back was to me, and dropped it in the paper shredder. When it fell silent, she turned back to me, her face unreadable. “Sabella and I have been friends for years. Recently, her driver retired. Now that she’s ready to deal with finding a replacement, she asked me for a recommendation. I gave her your name.”

  Humbled and shocked, I stuttered out, “Th-Thank you.” When Sylvia’s expression turned puzzled, I added, “For the opportunity, I mean.” Because that’s what this was, a unique chance to get a very solid, very big boost on my career plans.

  “Understand, nothing is guaranteed.” There was a wealth of warning in her voice. “That position is yours to earn or lose.”

  “I understand.” Boy howdy, did I get it, but damned if I wasn’t going to make the most of it.

  Sylvia’s austere mask fell away and was replaced by her customary professionalism. “Sabella is expecting you this evening at six thirty.” Her “Don’t be late” came through loud and clear.

  “I’ll be back here at a quarter after five to pick up the car.”

  “Good.” She got to her feet and came around her desk.

  I stood up and followed her to the door. With her hand on the knob and in profile, she stopped. “Let me know as soon as you get ahold of Lena. I want to know where she’s been.”

  Her request caused a twinge of guilt. Bringing my concerns to the director shifted Lena’s situation from worried friend to professional concern. “Will do.”

  I left Sylvia chatting with Adele about her lunch appointment and beelined to Evan. Back in the lobby, the lingering stench of ammonia made my nose wrinkle, but the identity-challenged dog and his owner were nowhere to be found. Behind the dual computer screens, Evan was on the phone. I went over and leaned against the desk’s edge, waiting for him to finish.

  It wasn’t long before he hung up. He used his foot to shove his chair back far enough to study me. “You want something.”

  “I do.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “Bring forth your query.”

  Normally, I would have indulged in our typical back-and-forth, but my anxiety made that impossible. “I need you to track Lena’s phone.”

  He dropped his arms, and behind his lenses, his eyes narrowed, hiding the flash of something I couldn’t identify. “You know how the director feels about the frivolous use of company resources.”

  “It’s not a frivolous request,” I muttered then added, “I already cleared it with her.”

  His gaze hardened. “Is Lena in trouble?”

  The sharpness to his question made me pause before I answered, “I hope not.”

  He turned to the computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard. The bloody battlefield disappeared from the primary screen to be replaced by strings of indecipherable code. “Number?” He shot the question out without looking away from his screen.

  I gave it to him and scooted around the desk to stand just behind his shoulder. “Maybe I’m being paranoid.”

  “How do you figure?” he asked absently. A map popped up on the secondary screen, and with every keystroke, the map adjusted.

  Fascinated, I watched the map shift, zoom in, then shift again in a dizzying spin. “Nat mentioned Lena had a mystery man.”

  His fingers slipped on the keyboard, and the map on screen zoomed out and stilled. Evan cursed. A couple of clicks later, the rapid adjustments continued. “She have a habit of blowing off work for a man?”

  “Nope,” I answered, noting his reaction. “Which is why I’m having you track her phone.” As the minutes ticked by, anticipatory tension had me wrapping my arms around my stomach, hiding my fisted hands. There were no beeps or lights or anything to tell me what was happening. After what felt like forever, I finally broke. “Evan?”

  His broad shoulders hunched as he all but hissed, “Shush.”

  The tension continued to ratchet up until I wanted to scream.

  Evan’s muttered “Dammit” was followed by his fist slamming against the desk next to the keyboard. He shoved back hard, which forced me back a step in tandem. He dragged a hand through his hair, leaving it mussed. “There’s no signal, so I’m assuming it’s not active.”

  I shifted to the side, so I could still see his screen. “If it’s not active, it means it’s turned off, right?”

  “Or something.” His tone was dire, his attention once more on the screens.

  Frustrated, I snapped, “So what’s next?”

  “I’m going to see if I can track her activity before the signal dropped.”

  That sounded simple enough, but as the minutes stretched and it appeared Evan wasn’t in a rush to share, I demanded, “Tell me what’s going on.”

  He shot me a disgruntled look. “The program only goes so fast, Rory. It has to piece together the information from the towers her phone pinged off of, and with no idea how long her phone’s been offline, it has to dig back hour by hour.”

  Gritting my teeth, I waited.

  Eventually, the sprawling code slowed, and so did the dizzying map changes. When things appeared to finally settle, he hit a button on the phone and growled, “Kel, need you to cover the desk.” He tore the earpiece from his ear, tossed it on
the desk, then pushed back his chair and stood. “Come on.”

  I trotted along in his long-legged wake as we headed to the back office. “Tell me what you found.”

  He held open the door and waved me through the ward as he answered. “Her phone went dark around two yesterday. Last known location had her over on the west side of the valley.”

  I barely clocked the sting of the ward as I stepped through. “Where in the west valley?”

  He didn’t answer. Within two long steps, he’d bypassed me and taken the lead. Moving determinedly through the workspace, he didn’t slow as a young man all but ran out of one of the offices. Spotting us, the kid pulled up short. Evan pointed back to the lobby. “Handle things. I’ll be back shortly.”

  Not waiting for a response, Evan kept moving, his voice harder than I had ever heard it. “Any chance she forgot to charge her phone?”

  Even though he couldn’t see me, I shook my head. “She’s anal about keeping it charged. I’m not sure she could function without it.” I didn’t like his tone. “What about after two? Does she show up anywhere?”

  “No.” He stopped, pulled me out of the way of anyone walking by, and braced his shoulder against a wall bearing a nameplate that read “GIS-5.” The door sported an electronic lock. “When did you see her last?”

  “Yesterday morning.” I kept my voice equally low. “We headed out at the same time. She mentioned tracking down a couple of promising leads for an assignment. If they panned out, she was hoping to close the job and call it a day. She mentioned dinner, but I was booked and warned her I would be home late.”

  He frowned. “She say anything about going out? About meeting up with anyone?”

  There was an impatient edge to his questions that made me wonder if Evan was jealous. Something to ponder later. “No, but we tend to go our own way. Grown women, personal lives, you know how it goes.” Yep, that was a definite hint of red rising under his skin as he looked away. I reached out and caught his arm. “Evan, tell me you can find her.”

  The half-formed blush disappeared, and his frown deepened. “Got one more option we can try.” He straightened and motioned to the door. “The map room.” He typed a code into the keypad then held his palm flat over it. A shiver of magic ruffled over my skin. The light went from red to green. He grabbed the handle and looked at me. “Did you know the Guild insists on tagging every employee’s phone with an emergency loci spell?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not surprised. It makes for a great emergency leash. Will it pinpoint her location?”

  “Maybe.” He twisted the handle and pushed open the door.

  “Maybe?” I stuck to his heels as he strode into the windowless room. “What do you mean ‘maybe’?”

  Despite its outwardly bland appearance, the interior was an impressive sight. The three main walls were covered with interactive screens that mapped out the valley in crystal-clear satellite images. Various colored, blinking points dotted the maps. I knew enough to understand each flashing light represented a Guild employee. Compared to the others on the massive grid of the city, those pinpoints were few and far between. A double row of computer stations on narrow tables ran down the room’s center. Half the stations were occupied, their operators barely acknowledging our entrance beyond their initial glance up to blink owlishly before turning back to their oversized screens. Empty junk-food wrappers littered the cord-strewn space between, and the scent of stale pizza hung on the air. It was the epitome of nerd nirvana.

  Ignoring them, Evan headed toward the screen on the far wall without answering my question.

  I followed with a hissed “Evan.”

  He waited until I stopped at his side and kept his voice low. “What I mean is, the loci spell, it’s magic based.” He laid his fingers above the map’s key in the bottom right corner. I recognized the layout of the west valley. He pinned me with a grim gaze. “You know as well as I do, if Lena’s in trouble and that trouble is attached to a mage, we may be SOL.”

  I did not want to hear that we were shit out of luck. I wanted him to tell me where Lena was, but throwing a hissy fit wasn’t just unprofessional. It would also get me nowhere. So I bit my tongue and kept my mouth shut.

  Evan’s fingers moved, activating the map’s key. Arcane symbols in prescribed patterns flared to life, hovering over the map’s surface, like a holographic overlay. Magic sparked, brushing over my skin as an unearthly glow simmered in Evan’s eyes. In response to his magic, the satellite image on the screen changed with dizzying speed. He moved his hand, touching three distinct points on the map, then under his breath, he muttered an incantation that I didn’t catch. The three points ignited in a blue-green blaze that raced along lines to connect them into a triangle. He lifted his hand, and for a moment, his magic hung there, connecting the three illuminated pins by the thinnest thread. They shimmered, as if plucked by an invisible finger, then stilled.

  I held my breath, my heart pounding, hope rising.

  He stared at the map.

  The itchy feeling of his magic increased until I was rubbing my palms against my hips to erase the sensation.

  The glowing lines flickered again, only to blink out, leaving the map unchanged. “Fuck.”

  Evan’s barely there curse turned my blood to ice. My restless movement froze. “What? Where is she?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he touched the screen again. This time, the rush of magic was stronger, deeper, and left me gritting my teeth. Once again, the three points flared into brilliant life. The interconnecting lines ignited, only to flicker out.

  “Evan?” His name came out sharp, because I knew what he was going to say.

  His face was grim as he dropped his hand. “The loci spell is being blocked.”

  Yep, exactly what I didn’t want to hear. Fuckin’ great. Whatever Lena was tangled up in probably involved a high-powered mage, which meant tracking her by magic wasn’t an option. We couldn’t track what we couldn’t sense. Fine, great, we just needed to go back to good old-fashion tracking. I studied the area lying within Evan’s triangular parameter.

  “That’s what?” I traced where the lines flared. “Nine, maybe ten blocks?”

  His hands went to his hips. “At least that.”

  So maybe two miles. Doable. “What’s there?”

  His magic sparked, and labels popped up as the screen zoomed in. “A couple of shopping centers, apartments, neighborhood—”

  “Office park.” I pointed to the cluster of buildings tucked between an apartment complex and a storage unit facility.

  “Yeah, another one over here.” Evan circled another collection of offices.

  There were too many options.

  Evan was obviously thinking the same thing. “We need to narrow it down.”

  “And we do that how?”

  “Got an idea.” Evan grabbed my arm and steered me toward the door. “Come on.”

  Evan let me go as the door to the map room closed behind us. Keeping pace, I asked, “Where are we going?”

  He didn’t slow. “My office.”

  Works for me. We crossed the floor and made a couple of turns before entering a quiet hall interspersed with unmarked doors. It was an area most forgot existed. Evan opened the last door on the end and disappeared inside. I followed. His office resembled a rehabbed supply closet. The lack of windows left the space feeling slightly claustrophobic and would’ve driven me nuts in no time. To help combat the smothering feeling, I left the door open.

  Evan rounded the desk that dominated the space and hunched over, half-hidden by the multiple screens. The lone visitor’s chair was piled high with unidentifiable electronics, so I leaned a hip against the small overstuffed bookcase and picked up the worn Rubik’s Cube to work off my anxiety while Evan did whatever it was he’d planned on doing.

  His fingers flew over the keyboard, creating rapid-fire clicks. “All right, Lena-bee, let’s see what you were up to.”

  My fingers stilled on the fidget toy, and I glanced up
. Lena-bee? Since I was fairly sure I wasn’t meant to hear that, I refrained from taking Evan’s focus away from whatever was on his screens. It would do me no good to pester. He would start talking when he was ready.

  I managed to turn one side of the cube a solid green before Evan finally spoke. “Okay, I’m in.”

  I set the toy down and walked over to join him. “In what?”

  “Lena’s files.”

  Since only a couple of minutes had passed, I couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t our files pass-coded?” Considering the clients we served, I would have thought the Guild’s electronic security would be tougher than that.

  He turned just enough that the screen’s illumination reflected off his lenses, veiling his eyes. “Hello, electro mage here.”

  I shook my head. Right, guess nothing is off limits to him then. “That does not make me feel any better.”

  He turned back to the screen, his lips twitching. “Who do you think designed our security?”

  “Point,” I muttered then leaned in to see what he pulled up. “The whiteboard indicated she just closed a case.”

  “Uh.”

  “Uh?”

  Evan looked at me over the edge of his glasses. “System says she has four open cases.”

  I frowned. “Four?”

  Evan’s fingers didn’t pause, and his screens filled with files. “Yep, looks like she accessed this one”—he tapped a finger on his first screen—“yesterday morning, so we’ll start here. The access dates on the other three go back a couple of days.”

  “Probably because those cases are in the initial stages of investigation.” Bracing my hands on his desk, I read the information on the screen, feeling Evan do the same next to me.

  I zeroed in on the noted contact name. “Who is Dr. Oliver Martin?”

  Evan turned to his keyboard, the middle screen shifting as he typed. “Dr. Oliver Martin is a urologist with the Reid Clinic.” An image of an older man with glasses and receding hair line, wearing the standard white lab coat, appeared on the screen.

  Puzzled, I asked, “Why is he hiring a Guild Key?”