The Promised One (The Turning Stone Chronicles)

by C. D. Hersh

  Rhys removed his notebook and pen from his shirt pocket and scribbled something. “Thanks, Gladys. We owe you.” He punched the phone off and slid it back into the holder.

  She tried to get the notebook, but Rhys held it away. “Do we have him?” she asked.

  “Maybe. Gladys matched the basic facial structure to a petty thief named Shaw.”

  “A positive match?”

  “Hard to say. He’s twenty years older now and has been clean ever since he got off parole fifteen years ago.”

  “Address?”

  “It’s a DMV address. Four years old.”

  “That’s more than I’ve had to go on so far.” She scraped her chair back from the table and stood. “I’ll get my gun.”

  Eli stood, too. “I’ll get my sword.”

  “Don’t think so, old man. This is police business.”

  “Sounds tae me like Turning Stone business, laddie.”

  The two men glared at each other. The space between them wavered like heat off a pavement on a scorching summer day.

  “Knock it off, both of you,” she commanded. “We’re all going. I need Eli’s shifter skills and Rhys’ gun.”

  Eli backed down, a smile tickling the corners of his mouth. “Guid,” he whispered. “A Promised One needs tae take control.”

  Rhys glared at her. “We’re a team, Alexi. No one takes control.”

  “Were a team, Rhys. You’re asking for a new partner.”

  “Not until this case is closed. Until then, we’ll back each other up like we’ve always done.”

  Eli’s smile broadened and Alexi could almost hear his thoughts. He canna let ye go, lassie.

  Or were they her thoughts? Either way, she liked them. “Who’ll back Eli?”

  “I dinna need no backing, lassie. I got tae this ripe old age on my own.” He grinned mischievously at her. “I’ll back up the laddie.”

  No one answered the door at Shaw’s second-floor apartment, not that Rhys expected it. If Shaw were inside he probably wouldn’t open the door to three strangers. He put his ear to the door listening for sounds. Nothing.

  “Guess we’ll wait,” he said as he relaxed against the doorframe.

  “Move aside, laddie.” Eli dug into the inside pocket of his flowing trench coat and retrieved a small leather case. When he didn’t move, Eli nudged him aside and unzipped the case.

  “Whoa,” Rhys exclaimed. “We’re not going to pick the lock.”

  “Yer right, laddie. I’m gonna pick it.” Eli pulled a thin instrument from the case and inserted it into the lock.

  Before he could get the pick Eli had the door unlocked and opened. Eli entered the apartment, followed by Alexi.

  Rhys stopped her as she passed. “What are you doing? You could lose your badge for this.”

  She shrugged him off. “If Eli’s right about my destiny, I’ll have to quit the force anyway.”

  He hadn’t expected that answer. He’d thought she’d report to the precinct every day like she had for the last two years.

  Stupid thought. Why would she come in day after day and watch you walk out with another partner?

  Stepping through the doorway, she said over her shoulder, “If you’re worried, stay out here and keep watch.”

  Like hell I will. He followed her. “Can’t watch your back if it’s not in sight.”

  Sparse furnishings decorated the apartment: a worn recliner, an old television on a sagging coffee table, and a scratched 1950’s chrome kitchen table that must have come from a thrift store.

  “If he’s the one doing the robberies, he’s not spending the money here,” Rhys said.

  “Mayhap he’s fencing the stuff and putting the money intae an account,” Eli suggested.

  Alexi snapped on a pair of latex rubber gloves and started rifling through a stack of papers on the table. “Or he’s not our perp.”

  “Got another pair?” From her back pocket, she pulled out a couple of pairs, tossing one set to him and the other to Eli. She came prepared to break in. Law-breaking Alexi. He didn’t know she had it in her.

  “What are we looking for?” Eli asked.

  “Proof this is Shaw’s place to start with.”

  He held up a ripped envelope. “Got it.” He read the envelope’s address. “Mr. Danny Shaw, 19 Maple Brook, Apt. 14.” He shoved the envelope back between the couch cushions.

  “What next, lassie?”

  “Jewelry. The discount mart bag—”

  “A boatload of cash,” Rhys added.

  “Or . . .” She held out a scrap of paper. “The name of a well-known fence.”

  He crossed the room, peered over her shoulder, and read the name scrawled on it. Rocco Lorenzo only dealt in high-end stuff. The kind like the jewelry store lost in the Pawling theft. He moved his merchandise quickly—too quickly to get caught. “This is a dead end. Burglary has been trying to pin something on Rocco for years.”

  She dropped the paper into a plastic baggie. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Rhys. I’ve been running into dead ends so much that I’ll take anything I can get.” She mussed the pile of papers she’d been rummaging through until they appeared as if they hadn’t been touched. “I’m going to check the bedroom.”

  She no sooner left the room, when the apartment door creaked opened. He whirled toward the sound.

  “Shit,” a man yelled. “What the hell are you doing?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but bolted back out the door.

  Rhys charged after him, chasing him down the hallway. The man disappeared as he rounded the corner. Rhys careened after him, crashing into a door that flew open in front of him. A blonde stuck her head out from behind the door.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, her blue eyes round with fear.

  Rhys reeled from the impact. “Police,” he shouted. “Get out of the way!” She banged the door shut. Regaining his balance, he took off down the hall, jumping down the steps three at a time, running out through the front door. But he’d lost him.

  A tall muscular fellow, straining his jersey sweats to their limit, came out of the building as Rhys reentered. As he started climbing the stairs, Eli and Alexi appeared at the top.

  “Was it him?” Alexi asked.

  “Yeah. But I lost him when some blonde opened her apartment door in my face.” He rubbed the throbbing place on his cheek.

  “Blue-eyed?” Eli asked.

  Rhys thought about it for a minute. “Yeah. Platinum blonde.”

  “What apartment?” Alexi asked.

  “Second floor. At the corner.” He climbed the stairs and they went down the hall toward Shaw’s apartment. When they rounded the corner, Rhys stopped and stared. The door that had smashed his face didn’t have an apartment number. Puzzled, he opened it. The distinctive odor of trash floated out.

  “Did you go by anyone else?” Alexi asked.

  “A medium-height, muscular guy as I came back in the building.” Alexi and Eli exchanged a grim look. Rhys knew he’d missed something. “Want to fill me in?”

  “You saw Shaw,” Alexi said. “Twice.”

  “Couldn’t have.” He’d have known if he’d seen Shaw. Five years on the force and he’d never missed ID’ing a perp. “That bonk on the head didn’t affect my sight.”

  “He was the blonde woman and the man at the door,” Eli said. “And he’s learned tae shift verra fast.”

  Rhys stared at Eli then at Alexi, who nodded in confirmation. “How the hell are we supposed to catch someone we can’t even identify?” he asked. “It’s like grasping at the wind.”

  “Aye, ‘tis. Especially for the likes o’ ye.”

  “What does that crack mean, old man?”

  “I mean no offense. It’s just that ye havenae the skills needed tae track a shifter. It takes one tae find one. And this one has become especially quick in his skills.”

  “Do you think he has some magic of his own?” Alexi asked.

  Eli shook his head. “I dinna think so. ‘Tis the ring. And if
one who has no training with it can use it so skillfully, there’s more power in it than I ever imagined. That’s saying a lot, considering I’m the keeper o’ the stones.”

  Keeper of the stones? What did that mean? There appeared to be a lot more to this Turning Stone stuff than either Eli or Alexi had let on. Rhys shoved his curiosity aside. Don’t want to know. Don’t care. All I’m doing here is finding Baron’s killer and keeping Alexi safe. “So what do you suggest we do, old man?”

  Alexi handed him the plastic bag that contained the paper with Rocco’s name. “Take this to forensics and check the fence. Eli and I will go after Shaw.”

  He took the bag and pocketed it. “How are you going to find him?”

  “I don’t know. I just know we have a better chance than you do.”

  The thought irritated him. They were partners. They were supposed to work together. Eli didn’t know her like he did. And besides, how was the old man going to protect her? He opened his mouth to protest but Alexi cut him off.

  “This is Turning Stone business, Rhys, and you’ve clearly said you want no part of it.” She sighed, the sound filled with pain.

  Pain he’d caused. He hated that. “Alexi—”

  “Please, Rhys. Just do what I ask.”

  “Okay. For now.”

  Chapter 37

  Shaw increased his pace, lengthening the stride of his long, shifted legs, trying to appear as casual as possible as he ran from the intruders.

  Who the hell were those men? Cops? Had they ID’d him for one of the jobs? No way. He’d been way too careful.

  He jammed his hand into his hoodie jacket breast pocket and fingered the envelopes filled with the cash he’d gotten from Rocco. Had the bastard double-crossed him? Trying to get back his money? His hand clenched over the bills. What the hell had happened to honor among thieves?

  Luckily, he’d stashed the last of his jewelry store take in the bus depot. He checked the locker key hanging on the chain around his neck. Rocco’s men wouldn’t find that. But he’d have to find another fence to get money for a hotel. Sure as hell couldn’t go back to his apartment now, and he wasn’t about to crash on the street like some bum for three days while he waited for his appointment. Not when he could stay somewhere comfortable.

  He ducked into a fast-food restaurant, bumping into a mustached guy in the entrance. He stared at the man for a second, committing his face to memory, and then hit the john. Snapping the stall door shut, he pictured his new shift’s face. The now-familiar tingling rushed through him as his height dropped to a smaller size. He wriggled in his sweats, loose from stretching, and ran his hand over his upper lip. Stiff hair prickled his hand.

  Satisfied the shift was complete, he opened the stall door and looked in the bathroom mirror at his new face, tilting his head to get a profile. He was getting pretty damn good at this. Too bad he had to give it up.

  Then he thought about Lulu. Hell, none of this was worth losing her.

  He took one last glance in the mirror before leaving the bathroom. Hopefully, this guy was ordinary. He didn’t need any more attention.

  Heading toward the bus station, he wolfed down a burger he’d purchased from the counter service. A couple of necklaces should cover the hotel costs. He’d leave the rest for a rainy day.

  Just a couple more days, Lulu, and we can be together again. His groin tensed at the thought of his girl. Damn, I’ve missed you, babe.

  As he approached the bus station lockers, he glanced around. Everyone minded their own business, kissing family good-bye, greeting people coming in. Stepping in front of his locker, he blocked it from view, unlocked it, and removed a plastic sandwich bag with a couple of diamond necklaces inside. Then he slammed the locker shut, locked it, and jiggled the handle to make sure it was secure. He shoved the key back under his shirt and jammed the baggie into his pocket. The weight of the necklaces made his pocket sag. He moved them to the hoodie pocket and zipped it closed. Too damned expensive to risk losing. Then he headed for Rogueman’s Bar.

  Johnny laid a cocktail napkin on the bar in front of Shaw. “What’ll it be, mate?”

  “Beer.”

  “Ain’t seen you in here before,” Johnny said as he drew a mug.

  “It’s me, Shaw.”

  Johnny gave him a lingering look. “Aye, I can see now, by yer eyes.” He moved closer. “Ya got what I asked for?”

  Shaw nodded. “I need a favor, though.”

  “Favors cost.”

  “Didn’t expect they wouldn’t.” He slid the envelope from Rocco across the bar top. “This is what we agreed on.”

  Sweeping the envelope under his bar towel, Johnny nodded. “Come on in the office. We can talk there.”

  “It’s all there,” Shaw said as the office door closed behind him.

  Johnny slit the top of the Number 10 envelope open and rifled through the hundred dollar bills with the ease of a bank teller. “Where’s hers?”

  “Ten grand, just like she wanted.” He handed over a fat envelope.

  Johnny took out the money and counted it, laying it on the office desk in piles of ten bills. Satisfied, he scooped the money back into the envelope, and put it in the office safe.

  “So what time is she going to meet me?”

  “Eleven p.m. on the 31. And don’t tell anyone yer meeting her.”

  He snorted. “How the hell would you expect me to do that? I don’t even know who the broad is. What does she look like?”

  “She’s got black hair. That’s all ya need to know. If yer late, the deal is off.”

  “I won’t be late.” Three days before he could get rid of this cursed leg and beard. There was no damned way he was going to be late. He glared at the tall bartender. “And, Johnny, you’d better not double cross me.”

  Johnny grunted. “Double cross ya? That’d be the least of my worries. She’d have my head if I tried to keep this money for myself, and I’m kinda fond of my head.” He shoved the envelope with his payoff into his pocket. “Ya said ya needed a favor.”

  “Do you know any fences?”

  “What happened to yours?”

  “I think he double-crossed me. Crashed my apartment searching for my money. I need to sell a couple things to get some cash to get me through until the 31.”

  “Show me what ya got.” Shaw handed him the necklaces. “Whew.” Johnny whistled. “Good stuff.” He dumped the necklaces out of the baggie and flipped them over in his hand. “I think I can find ya someone.”

  “Good. I’ll wait for him here.” Shaw retrieved the necklaces.

  “It might take a while to contact him.”

  “I ain’t got no place better to go.” And he sure as hell couldn’t go anywhere without cash.

  Chapter 38

  Alexi opened the door to Rogueman’s bar and scanned the room. Crackling red and green auras lit up the space like Christmas bulbs.

  “Do ye see anything?” Eli asked.

  “The place is crawling with shifters, most of them losing their auras.”

  “Rogue mimickers,” Eli said.

  “As opposed to what?”

  “These are just lackeys—men and women shifters that the likes of the she-devil uses until they’ve no value left and then tosses away. Any sign of our man?”

  Alexi scanned the room again. No intense blue eyes on any of the shifters who looked at her. She shook her head.

  “Don’t worry, lassie,” Eli said, patting the beefy arm of her shifted form. “We’ll get him in time.” He slid out a bar stool and sat down. “Barkeep. Bring us a couple cold ones,” he yelled.

  “Keep yer knickers on, man. Yer not the only customer here.” The bartender filled a mug then took it to a corner table.

  Alexi watched him as he set the beer down and spoke to the customer. Hunching his shoulders protectively, he stared out the window. She scanned him closer. Nothing different about his aura than the rest of the crowd, a bunch of blinking Christmas lights. If Shaw were here, she’d have to search the fac
e of every patron to find him, and in a place like this that would probably cause a riot. Two against twenty was bad odds.

  The bartender returned and slapped a couple of drink napkins down. “What’ll it be, boys?”

  “Two drafts,” Eli said. “And some pretzels.”

  She looked askance at him. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m hungry.” He dipped into the bowl the bartender set down. “No harm in eating while we work, is there?”

  “Hey, Johnny, some service here,” another patron called out.

  The barkeeper set their beers on the counter. Alexi moved her drink toward her. “Remember us, Johnny?” she asked.

  “Am I supposed to?”

  “We were here a couple of days ago. I left my number with you.”

  “Can’t say as I do.” He moved away from the counter, but she lunged over it, took hold of his arm, and squeezed.

  “Think again, Johnny,” she said through gritted teeth. “And make sure you have the right answer this time.”

  Johnny moved toward her and grasped her arm with his free hand. “I’d not be doing that if I were ya.”

  Eli hopped over the bar, wrapped an arm around Johnny’s neck, and jabbed him in the back. “And I’d be listening tae what he has tae say if I were you.” A group of shifters rose from their chairs and moved toward them. “Tell yer friends tae back off.”

  Johnny raised his hand. “Sit back down. Everything’s okay here.” The shifters returned to their seats, keeping a watch on Johnny. “You’re outnumbered here.”

  “For the moment, but that won’t matter much tae ye if yer dead,” Eli said.

  Johnny released Alexi’s arm, but she kept her hold on him. “Now that ya mentioned it, I think I do remember ya.”

  “So why didn’t you call?” Alexi asked.

  “I was going to.” Johnny reached for his pocket.

  Eli yanked him backwards. “No funny stuff.”