Grave Cargo: Arcane Transporter 1

by Jami Gray

  I wanted to pump a victorious fist at her question, but instead I managed a courteous “Of course.”

  That earned me a knowing smile. “Then I’ll be sure to have him do that first thing tomorrow.”

  I knew my grin revealed just how excited I was about her offer, but I couldn’t help it. This was huge. “I’ll keep an eye out for it then.”

  She laughed, not fooled by my casual comment. “I’m going to enjoy working with you, young lady. Be careful heading home, and I’ll see you soon.”

  As the door shut, I turned and all but ran back to the car. Despite the mess currently tangling around me, I was buzzed. Unfortunately, as I sat in the car and read Evan’s text, my buzz was quickly replaced by dread.

  Possible location found.

  Chapter Eleven

  Evan’s brief, disquieting message had come in twenty minutes ago and included an address. I plugged it into the GPS, then knowing it was a long shot, I dialed him back. Sure enough, his phone rang and dumped into voicemail.

  “Evan, I’m thirty minutes out. Call me.”

  The address was a familiar one. Situated near the university, it belonged to a defunct strip mall scheduled to be demolished. With one eye on the speed traps, I stayed within legal limits as I navigated out of Fountain Hills. Once clear of the residential area, I hit the gas. Taking advantage of the fact that the valley was veined with freeways, I took the first exit onto the 101 and raced south. It was late enough that avoiding cops wasn’t likely to be a problem. As the miles disappeared under my tires, my promise to keep Zev updated on new developments, say like the possibility of finding Lena, tugged at my conscience. But…

  Possible location, a small voice pointed out mercilessly.

  Right, so maybe I would wait to update Zev. You know, once I actually confirmed I had something worth sharing. It had nothing to do with the fact he was out on a date. Not one damn thing. Besides, the last thing I wanted was to call Zev in, only to come up empty-handed. I was sure he would find a way to claim it was a bid for his attention. If Lena was there, Evan and I could handle things. Conscience appeased, I focused on cutting my drive time down significantly. I exited the freeway and hit the surface streets. With how late it was, the roads were quiet enough for me to ride the edge of reasonable speed.

  With minutes to spare, I pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex that sat across the street from the fenced-off remains of the mall. I knew I was in the right spot, because Evan’s SUV was parked in a clearly marked visitor spot. Luckily for me, there was another open spot a couple of cars down. I pulled in, turned off the car, and undid my seatbelt. Leaning over, I popped open the Beemer’s glove compartment and ran my fingers along the left-side seam, where the bottom and side met, until the faint uneven catch rasped against my touch. I pressed down, and a hidden latch released, revealing a small compartment. Inside lay what appeared to the untrained eye to be a couple of marble-sized river stones. I grabbed one, hit the latch to re-secure the hidden cache, then closed and locked the glove compartment.

  I got out and set the BMW’s electronic alarm. Since I wanted the car to blend in, not stick out, activating the wards I used with Sabella was out. Hence plan B. Taking a look around to ensure I was alone, I cupped the stone in my palm and sent out a tendril of magic as I whispered, “This old man, he played four. He played knickknack on my door.”

  Against my palm, the stone warmed as the warding magic activated. I crouched and tucked the ward into a customized niche on the underside of the wheel well. Once it was in place, I rested my hand on the warm hood and locked the ward into place. “Knickknack paddy whack.”

  Standing so close, I couldn’t avoid the painful rush as the warding magic swept over the sedan, covering the car from bumper to bumper in a level-three security ward and changing the BMW to a mid-level sedan that matched the other cars. I wiped my hand against my hip and stepped back, confident that if anyone was stupid enough to mess with this car, they would soon find themselves spending quality time in an emergency room. The Guild was very possessive of its property.

  As I walked away, I tried Evan again. Voicemail. Dammit. I pocketed the phone and touched the gun at my back, then I upped my pace, not slowing as I hit the sidewalk. I didn’t bother crossing at the light. Instead, taking advantage of the lack of traffic, I dashed across the street, hoping to find a way past the fence surrounding the construction site. The last time I’d driven by here, maybe a couple weeks ago, they had just begun the demolition process. From what I could tell from the poorly lit structure huddled behind the fence, they were now about halfway through. There was no way Evan had entered from the edge near the street. That was too obvious if anyone was watching. Just because I couldn’t see any cameras didn’t mean they didn’t exist. Granted, Evan could disable them with a thought, but again, if all the cameras blitzed at the same time, whoever was watching would come running. Stealth would be the name of the game.

  Keeping my pace casual, I sauntered down the sidewalk that ran parallel with the fence. When the fence cornered and disappeared down a small side path, I slipped into the shadows and found myself in a narrow, unlit alley. The fence continued corralling the lot, and I hoped I wouldn’t have to circle the whole damn block to find what I needed. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to find what I was looking for—a section of the chain-link fence bent back just enough to squeeze through.

  Nice.

  I slipped through. Grateful nothing had snagged, I straightened then studied the dark structure in front of me. As expected, there were no obvious signs of life, no flickering lights or soft noises of movement to track where Evan was in this place. Not that I wanted, or needed, them since there was another way for me to find him. I dialed up my magic until it settled over my skin like invisible body armor. I locked down my emotions and focused on the task at hand. I pulled out my backup plan and held it in front of me in a two-handed grip. I crossed the lot to the building with the gun’s reassuring weight in hand.

  I crept along the building, using the shadows as much as possible, looking for an entry point. As I moved, I visualized my magic expanding outward like ripples in a pond, hoping to brush up against active magic. Splitting my attention between sneaking around in the dark and trying to pinpoint Evan’s location without getting jumped wasn’t easy. Sheets of plywood covered empty openings that had once held windows and doors. The need to hurry was riding my ass. I was seriously considering kicking my way in when I tripped and stumbled back into one of those plywood-covered openings. The wood shifted, scraping against the debris-strewn concrete with a sharp noise. I dropped to a crouch, my breath stalling and heart pounding, and put my back to the nearby wall. I waited for someone to come investigate. Interminable seconds ticked by, and when I was sure no one was coming, I slowly straightened. Shifting my gun to one hand, I used the other to carefully and awkwardly push the broken plywood wider so I could squeeze through.

  Inside, I tugged the makeshift door back into place. No sense in making my entrance obvious. Darkness pressed in, leaving me blind. Without knowing who or what I would encounter, I didn’t dare use any kind of light. Despite the underlying layer of dust in the air, it was breathable. I stayed close to the wall, waiting for my eyes to adjust. It took a bit, but eventually, the faint light was able to make it inside. The dim light layered the blackness in shades of gray, giving me enough visual clues to make out faint shapes in the shadowed interior. There was a sense of openness to the space—probably because, from what I could see, the main area was empty, except for scattered piles of what looked like debris. What appeared to be a half wall stretched along the far back of the space, and a pool of darkness waited behind that.

  The skin-prickling sensation of magic nipped along the edge of my awareness, pulling me deeper inside. I narrowed my concentration and followed the lure of the faint touch leading me toward the shadowy pool at the back. Right, so whatever was happening, was back there. Good to know.

  I crept forward and bit back an
oath as my toe hit an unmovable object. I used my free hand to discover what lay in front of me as I shuffled around the pile and carefully made my way across the space. The farther back I went, the more the magical tug strengthened, and I had to consciously slow my pace to avoid tripping over obstacles.

  I stopped at what I realized was a long counter, not a wall, and did my best to figure out what lay behind it. The counter separated the dining floor from the back kitchen, and now I could tell this had probably been a restaurant at some point in time. The only entrance to the kitchen area was a wide opening, the doors missing, gaping to my left. I considered calling out, but the same uncomfortable itch urging me to hurry kept me mute. I inched closer and stood at the side of the opening, every sense stretched taut. A faint sound reached my ears, like something brushing over the floor.

  Muscles tight and spine lined with sweat, I put my back to the doubtful protection of the wall and stepped into the inky depths of the kitchen. I only got a few steps in before my hip hit something hard enough to bruise. Feeling around with the cautiousness of the blind, I discovered the cool metal edge of what felt like a huge sink to my left. Keeping one hand on the sink’s edge, I tried to make out the rest of the space. I was fairly sure a counter lined the wall to my right, while a long rectangular island divided the room. Just beyond that, against the far wall, large shapes hovered from the ceiling. The dull glint of metal made me think oven hoods, despite the blank spots sitting beneath them. Not terribly familiar with industrial kitchens, I figured the three lighter patches of darkness on the back walls probably belonged to walk-in compartments. The pull of magic was insistent now, and I had to consciously hold back from letting it pull me forward. Yet all I could see was shadows. Well, shadows and that island.

  I shifted around the sink so I could see what lay on the other side of the island, then I blinked, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks. Nope. It was still there. A thin, faint ribbon of light trickled from under the doors of one of the walk-ins. Of course, it had to be the one in the far corner. A mix of anticipation and wariness hardened the magical shell covering my skin as I inched forward. With every step, the thread of magic tightened, confirming I was on the right track. As I got closer, the lighter shadows resolved into the dull gleam of a metal door. Swallowing the sour taste of dread, I tried not to think about what waited inside.

  By the time I was close enough to touch the door, the magical pull was so strong, the pressure of it made my teeth ache. Unfortunately, I was also close enough to see the door wasn’t fully closed, hence the escaping light. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one, but I was about to find out.

  Since the door opened out, I had no choice but to move away from the questionable protection of the wall and grab the handle. With the gun in one hand and the door in the other, I pulled it open. The luminescent flash was bright, leaving me blind.

  Chapter Twelve

  After blinking rapidly to clear the starbursts from my vision, I stared at what hung in the middle of the damn walk-in. “Oh shit!” I breathed then rushed inside as I shoved my gun back in its holster so I could use both of my hands. “Evan!”

  “Stop!”

  At his guttural command, I jerked to halt. “What the hell happened?” Panic made my voice squeak.

  “Tripped a fuckin’ trap,” he gritted out.

  “Anyone else here?” Magic thrummed through the tight space and beat against my skull, but my concern about Evan pushed it aside.

  “Did you run into anyone on your way in?” His voice was tight with pain.

  “No.”

  “Then I’m guessing no.”

  Sarcasm meant he would be fine, right? Hoping he was right about our lack of company, I gave up stealth and got out my phone, activating the flashlight app to chase away the shadows. Whatever held him was more than a simple security ward. “Talk to me. What am I looking for?”

  “I don’t know.” His answer was short. “I was trying to find a way inside when I got hit. Not sure how long I was out, but I woke up here.”

  My phone’s light hit Evan, and I sucked in a sharp breath as I got my first clear look at him.

  He jerked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing to slits to avoid the light, his breath escaping on a pained hiss. “Watch it, Rory.”

  “Sorry.” I shifted the light away from his face but aimed it so I could see the rest of him.

  He hung in midair like a living version of Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. His face was etched with white lines of pain, and the cords of his neck were starkly evident. Blood stained the collar of his T-shirt, and his glasses were missing. “How long have you been awake?”

  “Not long,” he said. “Maybe ten minutes or so.”

  “Did you see anyone?”

  “No, and no Lena, either.”

  Details on whatever had brought him here would have to wait, but since he hadn’t answered my call when I left Sabella’s, I figured whoever had strung him up had gotten him shortly after he arrived. I could hear him panting as I swept my light over the interior, looking for a way to get him out of this. “How bad is it?”

  “Head’s pounding like a bitch, but I’ll live.” His body twitched, and he grimaced. “Can’t struggle, or this damn spell will pull me apart.”

  That explained why he was just hanging there. “But so long as you stay still…”

  “It leaves me alone,” he finished.

  That didn’t make me feel better. “So it’s probably meant to hold you until they get back.”

  “That would be my guess, but it’s getting worse, so it’s a safe bet whoever’s behind this doesn’t care what condition I’m in when they return.”

  That meant we were probably racing against an unseen clock. “Then we should probably get your ass out of here.”

  “I’m down with that.”

  Finished with my visual inspection of the walk-in, I met his pissed-off gaze. “I’m not seeing anything that would act as a focus.” Spelled traps came in various flavors. One of the most common used an inanimate object as a focal point, hence my search of the space. But other than dust, it was frustratingly empty of anything obvious. The second type involved channeling a spell through an Arcane circle, a combination of sigils and runes. I crouched and aimed my light at the floor as the magical pressure kicked against my skull. Taking that sign as evidence that I was missing something, I did my best to ignore the increasing ache and studied the grimy floor.

  Above me, Evan gritted out, “No foci means they used a circle.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking, but other than drag marks, which I assume are from you, there’s nothing’s here.” That struck me as wrong. There should be something more, like, say, footprints from whoever had strung him up.

  “Then they’re using sub rosa runes.” His voice was grim.

  If that was the case, we were in deep shit. Not being able to identify which runes were used in the spell made breaking it a crapshoot. One wrong move, and Evan might end up a gory mess. I couldn't even risk using my ability, because while my magic might keep my ass intact, I couldn’t promise the same for Evan. “We need a way to see the circle.”

  “I’m all out of fairy dust,” Evan’s response was dry.

  Fairy dust? His words sparked an idea, albeit a crazy one, but it was better than nothing. “Have you tried accessing your magic?”

  “In the middle of a metal box?” He sounded incredulous. “Do you know what happens when electricity meets metal? I guarantee it’s not pretty.”

  The ticking of the invisible clock got louder, and I snapped, “Just answer the damn question, Evan.”

  “No, I haven’t.” His response was less than nice. “Why? What are you thinking?”

  I studied the strange, mostly undisturbed layer of grime on the floor then straightened slowly. “A trap like this requires a complex set of runes, right?”

  “To trap and torture your prey instead of outright killing it?” he mused. “Yeah.”

  I wasn’t
sure my ambiguous idea would work, and it must have shown, because he called my name. I looked up.

  Whatever he saw on my face turned his voice hard. “Share.”

  I swallowed, praying I wasn’t about to make a lethal mistake. “I think the dust layer is magically generated. It’s too even, too clean. And if magic is a form of energy, like electricity, what happens if we reverse the direction of that energy?”

  He studied the ground with narrowed eyes. “Like creating a magical magnet?”

  The fact he could follow my half-formed idea made me hope it wasn’t as crazy as I thought. “Can you do it?”

  “Won’t know until we try.” He followed that dour statement with “Step back and get clear of the metal. Whatever you do, don’t touch the door.”

  Nodding, I inched backward, keeping the light aimed at the floor, until I stood on the other side of the door.

  Once I was clear, he warned, “Here goes nothing.”

  I held my breath as a faint luminescence burst into life, outlining his distended form. The bluish light of his magic fired along the previously invisible lines of power wrapped around his neck, legs, and arms like phantom chains. Air stalled in my lungs as a mix of dread and excitement rose. His magic brightened, and the metallic stench of ozone filled my nose. Invisible pressure slammed fists against my skull. Then his magic appeared to stall, and I struggled to find a way to speak around my clenched teeth. With a vicious slap, the aching pressure in my head broke. Reeling back, I reached behind me blindly, trying to avoid falling on my ass. Instead, I stumbled against the island and fought to breathe through the ricocheting pain. When my head stopped whirling and I was fairly sure I wouldn’t hurl, I was able to force open eyes I didn’t realize I had closed.