Bone Driven

by Hailey Edwards

  “He did drive all the way out here.” I met Wu’s gaze over Cole’s shoulder. “Or fly.” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “I can never tell with you guys.”

  Wu declined to answer, surprising no one given his stance on charun keeping their own counsel on personal matters.

  Heaving a great sigh, Cole withdrew the rest of the way from me, but his meltwater eyes glinted with mischief. “I can give you a ride home.”

  “Ride.” I wet my lips. “On you.”

  The gleam heated several degrees, as did my cheeks. “Yes.”

  “I’ll just, uh.” I pressed a hand to my stomach. “Maybe next time?”

  Cole chuckled, a deep and rumbling thing that left me squirming in place. “I’ll hold you to it.”

  I found my hand fisted in his shirt without my permission, reluctant to let him go, but – perhaps taking him too literally – I was in no hurry to remove it. “You do that.” I tugged the fabric once then forced my fingers to relax. “Take care of our girls. And our boys.”

  “I don’t like this.” His own reluctance to leave me with Wu was anchoring him here when he was needed elsewhere. “You shouldn’t be left alone.”

  Wu cleared his throat again.

  We both ignored him.

  “They need you.” I gave him a playful shove that did nothing but pop my wrist. “Go on. Shoo.”

  Cole eased back a few steps and let his dragon free. The towering beast dipped its massive head, antlers angled away from my face, and brushed its cheek against mine. The familiar pressure of his tail wrapping my ankle made me grin so wide my face hurt.

  An affectionate Cole was an irresistible Cole, scales and all.

  Our gazes met for a single instant, but then his camouflage stole him from my sight. A low rumble filled the air while his tail unspooled, the warning aimed at Wu, and I popped his flank. Or at least I think that’s what my open palm hit. “Behave.”

  Wind blasted my hair away from my face, and the leathery creak of his wings grasping for sky ignited an ache in my heart. The intensity of his presence lessened with each mighty flap until I could no longer sense him.

  “Come on, Luce.” Wu’s voice dragged my gaze from the sky. “We should get you home.”

  “What is it with you guys?” I started walking back to my Bronco, and he fell in step with me. “Do I have a curfew now?” The thoughtful noise he made earned him a glower. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”

  “Of course not.” A hint of teeth flashed in his smile. “I left my car near an ice cream parlor. Would you mind giving me a lift?”

  Fishing out my keys, I unlocked the Bronco. “Are your arms tired or something?”

  His now familiar sigh punctuated the night. “Is that a no?”

  Still annoyed with him for pushing my buttons, I was tempted to let him find his own way back. He had no clue how little slack the coterie cut me, Cole in particular, but I wasn’t about to explain myself – or us – to him. Plus, the whole partnership thing meant I had to learn how to play nice with him eventually. I might as well start practicing now.

  I climbed in and waited for him to settle before aiming us toward Hannigan’s. It was a safe bet this was the ice cream shop he meant. Most folks didn’t appreciate the fine line between ice cream and frogurt. I parked at the curb, angling my head to the right, mesmerized by the neon signs splashing colors across the darkened sidewalk.

  He followed my line of sight. “Would you like to go in?”

  “Nah.” I flashed back to my last visit and had to admit, “I’m probably banned.”

  “I could make the purchase for you,” he offered. “What’s your favorite flavor?”

  “You little enabler you.” I heartily approved.

  After rattling off my order, he ducked in Hannigan’s and loaded up two medium cups with enough soft serve to numb the ache in my chest where worries for my coterie resided and enough toppings to make his debit card weep from their weight. While he paid, I scanned the empty seating area through the giant plate glass windows.

  The framed dollar bill Cole had smashed had been rehung in its place of honor. Otherwise, it appeared Mr. Hannigan had used the generous check Cole had written him for damages to restore his business to its pristine, vintage charm rather than modernizing the place. I was still gazing off into the middle distance when Wu appeared at my window with his hands full and an expectant look on his face.

  “Walk with me?” I wasn’t ready to go home yet, but I had nowhere else to be and nothing else to do. I was all wound up after the visit from Sariah, and I had no outlet for that nervous energy. “I promise I won’t tell Cole you didn’t escort me straight home.”

  Sticking it to Cole appealed to Wu if the flash of his teeth was any indication. “All right.”

  I climbed out, he passed over my cup, and we set out to take a turn about the square.

  The Greek revival courthouse at the heart of Canton was the most beautiful building in town, an opinion shared by several motion picture companies who had filmed on its lawn and in its halls. It rose, elegant and pale, from a lush green patch of lawn across the street. We didn’t cross to the greenspace but kept to the sidewalk, strolling past the small shops lining the square surrounding the courthouse.

  I would have called what we did people-watching, except the hour meant it was more like car-watching as folks blazed through town on their way home for the night.

  My footsteps ground to a halt in front of a bridal shop overflowing with jewel-toned fall colors as I savored my last spoonful of froyo. The one-two punch of Mrs. Tacoma’s mothball and fruitcake essence radiated from the place, stinging my nostrils, and that last mouthful soured.

  “Human mating rituals grow more bizarre with each successive generation.”

  I reeled my focus in from the tidy boxes stacked on shelves in the back, each one labeled with the name of a bridal party, to study Wu. A second reflection caught my eye first, and I frowned at her, thinking she looked familiar, before the why of it dawned on me.

  Who else would have been standing so close to Wu eating froyo like it was going out of style?

  No one with any sense. That eliminated the pool down to, oh, I don’t know, me.

  The coterie might be working its magic on my touch-aversion, but clearly there were still dissociative echoes bouncing between Conquest and me if I was no closer to that knee-jerk recognition of self that others took for granted when they saw it reflected back at them.

  “It’s Kapoor,” Wu said abruptly, reaching for the muted phone in his pocket. “What have you got?” Wu snapped to attention. “That is interesting.” His eyes met mine. “I’m with her now.”

  The woman in the glass cocked her head, the thick ends of her ponytail sliding over her shoulder as she strained to catch both sides of the conversation. Mostly she gave herself a headache. A worse one. Barely twenty-four hours passed without a sledge hammer wrecking her temples. One of these days, if the pain got much worse, she might crawl in for an MRI, but she would rather walk across broken glass than be admitted for testing.

  After all that focused effort, when a second voice poured into the night air, I met her wide eyes in our shared reflection, suddenly tasting panic that I might have tapped into some wellspring of power within me, only to realize Wu must have worried I was going to aneurism and put his call on speaker.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “We have a lead on Famine.” Kapoor’s voice poured into the night. “I need both of you to come in.”

  “Where is in?” I looked to Wu for an answer. “Kapoor is still in town?”

  The janitorial work he and his team had been doing for us must be keeping him close.

  Wu gave an infinitesimal nod. “We’ll be right there.” He ended the call and met my gaze. “There’s a hotel on Soldiers Colony Road. That’s where Kapoor and his unit are staying.”

  I palmed my keys and gave them a jingle, happy for the distraction. “Let’s ride.”

  We took the Bronco to a boxy hotel slou
ched off the interstate and had our pick of parking spots. A row of six black SUVs hugged the curb near the farthest corner of the lot, and I almost made a snide comment about how common they were, but it got me curious about how many agents traveled in Kapoor’s entourage.

  I hung back while Wu lead the charge past the check-in desk to the elevators. Fine hairs lifted all over my body, the sensation of being watched a prickle between my shoulder blades. I pulled on my cop face and kept my motions loose, easy; all the while my mind spun out worst case scenarios.

  War had been awful quiet. I hoped this morsel of information wasn’t the bait she’d used to set a trap.

  The trip to the sixth floor gave me a few seconds to calm my nerves and steady my heart. God only knows what cues charun could pick up from me, given my human upbringing. Knowing what I did about Kapoor, that he was half charun, made me question all our interactions up to this point. Had he read how I felt, what I thought, without me ever knowing the danger of letting my emotions roam untethered?

  “Are you ready for this?” Wu stared down at me. “You can watch if you’d rather not participate.”

  Miller and his interrogation style came to mind at his words. “I’ll bow out if you erase lines I’m not comfortable crossing.”

  “All right.” He did me the courtesy of not pretending such erasure wasn’t possible and guided me down the hall to the last room on the right. He knocked, and the door swung open under his knuckles. “Special Agent Kapoor.”

  Special Agent Farhan Kapoor wore faded jeans, boots, and a T-shirt with the FBI logo emblazoned across his chest. The first time we met, he was all boyish charm and black tactical gear. This time, fatigue showed in the creases around his mouth and dark eyes. The overhead lights washed out his tan skin, leaving him sallow and unwell. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept since the last time I saw him, and finding us on his doorstep didn’t appear to rejuvenate him.

  “You made good time.” Kapoor extended his hand and shook Wu’s. Noticing how my nails bit into my palms, he let me off with a nod. Call me chicken, but I wasn’t eager to shake hands with him after learning the details of his job description. “Good to see you again, Ms. Boudreau.”

  “Kapoor.” My gaze slid past his shoulder to the room beyond. “What have you got for us?”

  “Come in, and we’ll talk.” He stepped back to allow us entry then shut and locked the door behind us. “This is Deland Bruster. He’s one of our most trusted informants.”

  The man in question stepped from the bathroom, and a jolt of recognition sizzled through me. I recognized his face, but I couldn’t have put a name to it. He was average height with average looks, nondescript brown hair and eyes. He looked like every other guy on the street, which was quite a feat considering the size of Canton.

  “Ma’am.” He dipped his chin at me, eyes bright, but his gaze skittered away from Wu. “Sir.”

  “Go on, Deland.” Kapoor hung back, watching. “Have your look.”

  Heat flashed up my nape at being made the center of attention. Any informant worth his salt would know who I was if he knew what this information meant to me, to us, but that didn’t mean I wanted to jump from Canton’s frying pan into the NSB’s fire on all future interrogations. I was used to being gawked at, but that didn’t mean I had to like it, and I sure as hell wasn’t volunteering as a traveling exhibit for them.

  “Luce Boudreau.” Bruster walked a slow circle around me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “I’m going to award bonus points right now,” I told him, “for not slipping up and calling me Conquest.”

  “Nah. You’re not her. Not yet, at least.” The heat of his body warmed my spine, but he didn’t touch me. “The potential is there, don’t get me wrong, but there’s this… aura. Yeah. An aura.” He continued his evaluation, halting in front of me and stabbing me in the chest with his knobby index finger. “You’re all tangled up inside, girlie. A hot mess of cables no one can cut to diffuse the ticking time bomb under your skin without you going boom.”

  His assessment had me replaying War’s troublesome revelation: “You are owned, sister, but not by me.”

  One other possibility came to mind, but I didn’t want to make eye contact with it yet.

  I am not owned. I am not owned. I. Am. Not. Owned.

  And not, of all people, by him.

  “You’re this tapestry of intent,” Bruster marveled. “The past is woven in every strand, your very core is ripe with ancient power, but the fiber spun around the whole is every bit as essential, and it’s brand-spanking-new.”

  I sucked in a breath, too afraid of what he might say next to risk questioning him.

  “You’re tight with your coterie,” he decided. “I see the individual strings connecting them to you, and they’re ironclad.” His finger dragged lower until it pointed straight at my heart. “This one…” He released a slow whistle. “This bond is adamantine.”

  Sweat drenched my palms, and I had to wipe them dry against my pants. “What kind of bond?”

  “The worst kind.” His glazed eyes as they roved over my face. “The kind that won’t snap even when both halves of it are broken.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.” A bond had already snapped if it was broken.

  The faint color in his eyes washed out until he stared at me with blind eyes that saw too much.

  “He can’t hear you now,” Wu murmured. “He’s too far away.”

  I bit down on my lip to keep from pointing out he was right there.

  “How is this possible?” Bruster’s brows knitted together while he plucked at the air above my chest, the same as War had done. “You are owned. Conquest is owned.” The confusion cleared from his expression. “Clever.” His graveled chuckles rumbled through his chest. “Very clever.” He folded his fingers together then kissed the tips. “You are a masterpiece, and what artist could resist signing their name?”

  Senses kicking into high gear, I demanded. “What name?”

  “I told you,” Wu said again. “He can’t hear you.”

  Bruster continued his narration in a dreamy voice that held traces of such immutable truth that I flinched under his inspection. Nothing I said reached his ears, nothing I did registered in his sight. Wu was right. He wasn’t with us. He was tangled in my heartstrings, knotted in my gut, gliding under my skin, a blade that cut away the excess until only the essential remained.

  Without warning, Bruster’s legs buckled. Kapoor caught him under the arms and lowered him onto the foot of the bed, using his hip to prop the other man upright until Bruster began to rouse from the fugue state that had overtaken him.

  “Got what I wanted,” he rasped, adjusting his weight until he supported himself with his elbows locked at his sides. “Our bargain is struck.”

  “Bargain?” I snapped at Kapoor. “What bargain?”

  “And the information?” Kapoor prompted him, ignoring me altogether.

  “Full report is on here.” He fumbled in his pocket and produced a flash drive he offered to Kapoor. “Dates, times, photos, GPS coordinates, the works. You want to see the goods before you go?”

  “I trust you.” Kapoor passed the small thumb drive over, startling the hell out of me. “Don’t look so surprised, Ms. Boudreau. You earned it. This meeting was the cost of the information in your hand.”

  So Bruster had wanted to meet me. Not just pass on intel, but finesse an introduction so he could get a bead on me. The interest, coming from a man in the business of selling information, gave me indigestion.

  “Give it to Santiago Benitez,” Kapoor continued. “He’ll know what to do with it. Have him send us a copy while he’s at it, if you don’t mind.” Bruster groaned once, slumping, and Kapoor clasped him on the shoulder to steady him. “Give us the quick and dirty version.”

  “Your girl here isn’t the only abnormality this ascension.” Bruster twisted on the mattress until he faced us, but his head remained too heavy to hold upright. “War and Famine breached
together.”

  An icy calm unfurled in my chest and fanned throughout my extremities. “How is that possible?”

  “No clue.” He attempted a shrug that resulted in a faint twitching motion. “All I can figure is whatever hit you with the humanity stick must have whacked them too. Except the shit they’re pulling is textbook. Maybe what happened to you weakened the breach site, and the others pressed their advantage.”

  The voice that poured from my throat resembled mine not at all. “What about Death?”

  “There is no evidence to indicate she’s active.” He wiped a hand over his mouth. “This terrene is going to need an episiotomy after birthing two Otillians at once, and Death would be a damn fool if she didn’t wriggle through before the stitches go in, even if it collapses the breach site.”