Arcane Solutions (Discord Jones)

by Gayla Drummond

  “If any of them are sex clubs, I’ll get something to help block the smells.” He took a bite, and I followed suit. “What are the plans for the rest of today?”

  “I need to call Kate, and unless something pops up on either case, I guess we could watch some movies.”

  That’s what we spent the afternoon doing, cuddled on the couch. Kate was able to confirm that Mr. Blacke was out of the country, as well as one of the inherited-type wealthy. She hadn’t had much luck on the Derrick front yet. Another location attempt had come up empty. I was checking the Zoe shimmer hourly while conscious, so was able to assure her the girl was still alive.

  At about six, Nick’s cell phone rang. He went to the kitchen to talk after answering it, and came back out a few minutes later. “I have to go, Cordi. That was my Alpha.”

  Figured. “All right. I do have some washing and stuff to take care of.”

  His expression wavered between annoyance and apology. “I’m sorry. This was a lot of fun today.”

  Getting off the couch, I shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “All right.” He went to the bedroom to grab his things, and then I walked him out. We kissed and said good-bye. Nick waved before backing his truck out of its parking spot, and I watched him drive away.

  Re-entering my apartment, I wondered why I wasn’t pushing hard to learn more about him. Normally, I knew quite a bit about a guy before jumping into bed with him, or letting him spend much time in my apartment.

  Nick seemed to be a special case. There was a definite sexual attraction, and he was fun to hang out with, but he didn’t share much personal information. It didn’t matter what kind of opening I tried dangling in front of him, he didn’t bite.

  Maybe I’m not pushing because he’s a shifter. That thought came out of nowhere, while I was sorting clothes, and was a sobering one. Vampires aside, I’d never considered myself particularly prejudiced before.

  In my experience, most humans who knew that I was psychic tended to wander off after a while, uncomfortable with someone capable of reading their mind.

  My friends and boss knew that I didn’t actively pry into people’s thoughts, and if the realization had occurred to Nick, he apparently wasn’t worried about it.

  Even when someone was trying to kill me, ripping his or her mind open wasn’t my first defense. Or even my last—yet.

  A time might come when I had to do something like that.

  The flash signaling my psychic tracking had locked onto something was a relief. I threw the armful of clothing I had into the washer, started it, and went for some shoes.

  ***

  The silver thread led me to a part of the city I'd never had any reason to visit: the Palisades.

  I balked at the idea of parking my car on any of the trashed out, graffiti-marked streets. Half of the lights were out, the others casting weak pools of blinking yellow-pink. Pushing away the urgency, I drove back out and several blocks away after picking one of those lights, to leave my car somewhere safer. The parking lot of a mini-mall on the other side of the highway that divided San Trueno was my choice.

  No one was around when I teleported to a spot beside the streetlight I'd chosen. I wasn’t worried anyway, since humans don't really scare me unless they have guns. A small display of one of my abilities had always sent the average punk running.

  Supernaturals, having their own abilities, don't scare easily and can usually move quickly enough to make my head spin.

  Concentrating on the thread, I was relieved my side trip hadn't resulted in its fading any. Moving at a fast walk, I followed it. Ten minutes passed, putting me deep behind what the Santo Trueno Daily liked to call 'enemy lines'. It shouldn't have surprised me when I realized someone was following me. Two guys, both human and looking for some fun.

  Their idea of fun wasn’t the same as mine. Debating on whether to turn and handle them now, or wait until they were a little closer, a vision made me stumble to a halt.

  A door, surrounded by blue and white graffiti. The vision faded away, leaving me aware of the fact my pursuers had gotten closer. I turned around to face them, goose bumps prickling my skin. “You really don't want to do this.”

  “Yeah we do,” the one on the left said, an ugly leer appearing on his face.

  “I don't want to hurt you. Just turn around and walk away.” They laughed, nudging one another with their elbows. Well, I had warned them. It wasn’t my fault if they hadn’t run into anyone not quite human before. Spreading my feet apart a bit, I struck a defensive pose my instructor had taught me.

  One of them laughed, genuinely amused. “Aw, she thinks she can take us.”

  “She's gonna take us, all right.” Guffawing at his crude humor, they drew nearer. I waited until the first reached for me, and threw both hands out, palms outward. His buddy went crashing into a nearby wall.

  “What the...” The first was hanging in mid-air, looking confused.

  “I guess you don't need my help.” A dark figure moved in the shadows about twenty feet away. How he’d managed to arrive without my noticing took secondary importance to the fact that the thread had disappeared. Damn it.

  “No, but thank you for offering.” I waved my hand to send the second crashing into the same wall. He slid down to sprawl next to his unconscious friend while I scanned the newcomer for aggressive intentions.

  “Name's Logan Sayer.” He took a few more steps forward, into a pool of light cast by one of the working streetlights. Helpful of him. “Are you a witch?”

  “Psychic.” I couldn't sense anything negative from him and relaxed a bit. “Discord.”

  He raised a dark eyebrow. “What?”

  “Discord Jones, my name.”

  “Interesting name.” He grinned, displaying even white teeth. Logan appeared to be about thirty, ruggedly good looking with dark eyes and hair, the latter brushing the collar of a blue work shirt. His name was embroidered on the front pocket in cursive script.

  “I get that a lot.” Curious, I asked, “What are you doing out here?”

  “Being thwarted in my effort to rescue a damsel in distress.” He grinned again, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, shoulders rising.

  That grin was beyond cute, so I had to return it. “How about I scream and faint next time?”

  “There's going to be a next time?” He glanced at the unconscious men. “Does this kind of thing happen a lot?”

  “More than I'd like it to.”

  His grin faded while Logan studied my face. “Going for the cheesy line: what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

  I laughed. “I’m a private investigator, and I’m looking for something.”

  “Oh. Could you use some help finding it?”

  “Maybe. How well do you know this area?” Anything that might cut down on the time I had to spend in this part of town was welcome. Without the thread, I could wander for hours and never find anything but more trouble.

  “I've lived here since the Melding. I'm a shifter.” He watched for a reaction, but I just nodded. “Tiger.”

  “I work with a wolf. Haven't met a shifter of the tiger persuasion before.” I grinned. See? No prejudice here.

  “What are you looking for?” Logan eased a step closer, keeping his hands in his pockets. Nothing leaked from his mind, but I felt like he was trying to keep from spooking me.

  “A door with blue and white markings on the walls around it. Any ideas?”

  “This area is all gang territories. One marks theirs with blue and white. It starts about three streets over.” He jerked his head to the west. “I can take you there, if you want some company?”

  “Sure.” I walked over, offering my hand for a shake. “Pleased to meet you, Logan.”

  “Likewise.” He pulled his right hand free to shake, nostrils flaring a bit. If my scent affected him the way it did Nick, Logan gave no sign. When our hands met, his warmth slowed the adrenaline-induced beat of my heart ba
ck to normal. Calm seemed to flow naturally from him, much as it did from Whitehaven. “This door, is it glass, metal, or wood?”

  “Metal.”

  He pursed his lips at my answer, turning slightly away to scan the street. “May be in an alley then. Do you have any more details?”

  “Give me a minute.” Closing my eyes and recalling the vision, I studied the door carefully. “It's kind of rusty, with a few dents close to the ground. It's padlocked, and the lock's new. There's a sign by it, but the graffiti covers it.”

  He was rubbing his chin when I opened my eyes. “It sounds like a delivery door, or maybe a basement entrance to an apartment building.”

  “Any ideas where to start?”

  “That gang claims seven or so blocks of six streets. We'll start with the first alley.”

  “Okay.” We set off, and I noticed his gaze constantly moving. “Are you watching for anything in particular?”

  “It's been a little unsettled around here the past few days. Feels like some thing’s brewing, but there haven’t been any rumors the gangs are gearing up for a turf war.”

  “They really have those?” My astonishment earned a smile.

  “Yeah. Guess that sort of thing's not commonplace in your part of town.”

  “Nope, no turf wars in Redwood. I get my share of violence during cases with vampires involved.”

  Logan chuckled, a rich murmur of sound. “Since you're still walking around human, I'm guessing no vamp's gotten the upper hand.”

  “Not for long.”

  He cast a quick, sideways glance. “But some do have psychic abilities.”

  “Yeah, but none of them have more than one. I do, not that I'm bragging.” My reply received another chuckle. “Most of the time, it's a pain in the ass to have them.”

  “How's that?” We turned the corner, and he nodded towards the alley. “This is where their turf begins.”

  “Okay.” I followed him to it, and we paused. “Well, for one thing, they take a lot of energy to use. For another, some of them aren't exactly cooperative. It's clear, except for small animals.”

  He grinned. “I know. Have a good sense of smell.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” I could feel my face beginning to heat up.

  “Caution's a good thing.” Logan shrugged, the blue work shirt he wore over a white tee tightening at the shoulders with the movement. He didn't follow up with a remark about my body heat rising. Maybe tigers had better manners than wolves. Though it could be an age thing, since he was older than Nick.

  The first alley proved to be a bust, and so were the second and third ones. We chatted, and I learned that he worked at an auto repair place. Halfway down the fourth, we hit pay dirt. “This is it.”

  “It's a delivery door for a smoke shop. The owner called it quits after the last robbery.” He was watching me check the padlock. “Want me to break that for you?”

  The lock clicked, and I held it up with a grin. “Psychic lock picking.”

  “Handy.” He continued watching while I pulled the door open.

  Hesitating, I smiled. “Thanks for your help.”

  Logan smiled back. “If you're going for a polite brush-off, forget it. I'm curious now.”

  “I'm kind of breaking and entering here.”

  His smile broadened. “You're just entering if the lock still works.”

  “It does, but I don't want you to get into any trouble.”

  “There's no alarm, so no cops. They stick to the outer edges around here, unless an alarm goes off. No trouble.” With a shrug, he edged past to walk into the building.

  “Okay, fine.” I followed him inside. It was a storeroom, completely empty of anything but a healthy layer of dust. “Damn.”

  “I take it dirt isn't what you were hoping for.” The shifter joined me in the middle of the room.

  “No, it's a book.” I huffed, turning in a circle to look around again. “Man, see what I mean about psychic abilities being a--”

  The floor cracked underneath our feet, and we looked at each other with widened eyes. Before I could grab his arm, there was a roar as it gave way. I just managed to break my fall with a cushion of thicker air, but rolled down the pile of debris and hit what felt like concrete. Logan quietly called my name from somewhere above. “Discord? Are you all right?”

  Sitting up, I waved at the glimmering dust swirling around my face and coughed before answering. “Yeah, I think so. Wasn't expecting that.”

  Sliding noises followed his low chuckle, and he appeared, crouching at my side. “It smells like vampires down here.”

  “Great.” Did we land in the Barrows? The dust was settling enough to show the source of the weak light. Safety lights, recessed in rough stone walls.

  “They're not my favorite people either. Are you sure you're all right?” Logan partially rose, settling on one knee.

  “Nothing's broken, but I bet I have some terrific bruises on the way. Are you okay?” Having accepted his help, I hated the feeling of responsibility that crashed down on me for putting him in a dangerous situation.

  Logan grinned, his teeth a faint gleam. “I landed on my feet.”

  “Cat thing, huh? Do you have nine lives too?” Taking the hand he stuck out in offer, I climbed to my feet while he smoothly rose to his.

  “Some would say so.” A faint purr seemed to underline his voice. Releasing my hand, he glanced up. “The way we came in is out of reach.”

  It was rather high overhead. “And the noise might bring unwanted guests.” Turning to survey the tunnel ahead, I sighed. “Well, guess...”

  A flare of light in my mind, tracking ability wide-awake and eagerly pointing the way. I took two steps before halting. “Um, look, this is the way I need to go. I'll teleport us up so that you can go home or whatever, and come back down.”

  Logan had followed me. Quietly sniffing the air, he shook his head. “I offered my help. I'll go with you.”

  “I really, seriously, appreciate it, but I'm getting paid to do this.”

  “That's fine. I'm curious.” He shot a sideways grin at me. “It's the cat in me.”

  A giggle escaped before I could suppress it. “Well, okay.”

  We began walking, the dim light enough to keep me from smacking into any walls at turns. The air was damp and chilly, not helping the rising nervousness I was feeling.

  Logan's presence did. The shifter moved silently, perfectly calm and at home in the semi-darkness. I was grateful for his continued companionship, because it was spooky as hell down here.

  We weren't moving fast, but that was fine. Sneaky was the goal. The corridor was leading steadily downward, which I took to mean that we were near the Barrows, if not actually in them.

  Everything was going great, until another corner appeared. Taking it brought me face-to-face with a vampire, and You! smacked my brain with the force of a speeding train.

  Back peddling, I bumped into Logan. He snarled as the vamp blurred into motion, stepping forward. The vampire casually slung him aside. A white hand sped toward my face, and sent me flying.

  I heard a loud crack, saw Logan leaping onto the vampire's back and then nothing.

  ***

  Darkness and a soft vibration on one side of my body were the first things I became aware of upon regaining consciousness. Next were a pair of arms around me, and the discovery that I was in someone's lap. “Discord?”

  I groaned in response, suddenly aware that my head was killing me. The events that had led to the pain surfaced. “I feel horrible.”

  Logan chuckled. “You remember saying you’d scream and faint?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You forgot to scream.”

  I could smell the thick, coppery tang of blood all around, drawing in a breath to giggle. “Sorry. Am I bleeding?”

  “No, that's me. He and two others kicked my ass,” the shifter admitted, sounding rueful.

  Remorse took over. “I am so sorry. How badly are you hurt?”

  “I vo
lunteered, remember? Besides, I’ve already healed.” After a pause, he said, “He seemed to know you.”

  “He did?” The vampire hadn’t looked familiar to me, being one of those broody looking Heathcliff types teenaged girls freaked out over. I vaguely recalled lace streaming from the wrist of the hand that had slapped the hell out of me. My jaw hurt.

  “He knew your name.”

  “Did you happen to catch his?”

  “Yeah. Lord Derrick.” Logan re-adjusted his hold slightly. We were silent for a few minutes. “I guess I should’ve brought my cell phone.”

  “Oh. Mine’s in my right jacket pocket. Let’s try for the cavalry.” A head full of jagged glass wasn't the easiest thing to concentrate through, so my attempt at fishing the phone out failed.

  Logan took over the task. “No signal.”

  “Of course not. That would be too easy, right?” I sighed. “Okay, let me see if I can’t fix my head enough to teleport us out of here.”

  “Sure.” The soft vibration began again, and I realized the shifter was quietly purring. It was a soothing sound.

  Speeding up the healing process is an ability I like, since I'm not a big fan of pain. It requires a lot of energy though, so my plan was to dull the pain to something bearable for now. I could finish it later, once we were safely away. Cradled against Logan's chest, my eyes closed and his soft, raspy purr rolling over me in a comforting blanket of sound, I monitored my energy level with care once the healing began.

  An hour slowly passed. I was aware of Logan sniffing my hair from time to time, in between my gloomy thoughts.

  Man, Nick was going to be pissed I'd taken off on my own again. I felt bad about that, but probably not as bad as I should’ve felt.

  Eventually, the blinding agony ricocheting around my skull decreased to a dull ache. Sighing in relief, I lifted my head from his shoulder. “Okay, I'm going to try teleporting us now.”