“How?”
Thea smiled. “I learned an important lesson when I was seven years old, courtesy of a neighbor of mine: shame is a powerful thing.”
“I don’t follow.”
“They depend on humans. And how many companies have you seen go under after a scandal? Maybe the CEO doesn’t actually go to jail, but they lose everything just the same.”
Holgersen was starting to look convinced. “So you want to expose what they did at Hemlock Heights. On a wide scale.”
“I don’t know if I can get absolute proof of that,” Thea said. “But proof they’re developing the superhex ought to do it. It doesn’t matter if they’re never prosecuted for it. What matters is that people believe. Preferably a lot of people. I want to do a better job than they did. Hit a wider audience.”
“What do you mean?”
“The implication that it was us hurt our business at Hexing House,” said Thea. “But I think it would have blown over, even if Boyd hadn’t been blamed. The Concerned Citizens had no real evidence. Nothing but their own word—and some of them were clearly unstable—and a blurry picture that a lot of people assumed was doctored. I want something with a little more guaranteed impact.”
“So you want more evidence, and harder evidence,” Holgersen said, considering.
“I think a recording would be good. And we have another advantage that Fury Unlimited doesn’t.”
“What’s that?”
“Me. Being Baird Frost’s ex-girlfriend won’t carry much weight anymore, but it should be enough to get a tabloid or two to talk to me. I can make sure the story spreads.”
Thea hoped the edge of panic she felt as she spoke those words didn’t show in her voice. The thought of seeking out the media, making herself vulnerable to them again, was almost unbearable. But she would bear it, if it would resolve the problem of Fury Unlimited without further violence.
“This is a big gamble,” Holgersen said. “You’d be exposing your own colony as well as theirs.”
Thea shrugged. “You’ve seen for yourself that official interference with us isn’t very likely. We’re only talking about the public here, or the segment of the public who will believe this story. It’s our potential customers I want to reach, ours and theirs. And to those people, I’m pretty sure we’ll come out looking like the good guys.”
Holgersen pushed his plate away and tapped his fingers on the table. “It’s not how I’d have chosen to bring Fury Unlimited down,” he said finally. “I’d much rather see a few people locked up.”
“But this is the only justice you’re likely to get,” Thea said.
He signaled to the server and asked for some pie, then turned back to Thea. “Want any?”
“No, I’m good.”
When the server was gone again Holgersen said, “I’ll help you.”
“Good.” Thea resisted the urge to clap her hands. Her entire plan depended on a human ally, preferably one who had a basic understanding of undercover work, and knew how to use a gun and protect himself if things went wrong. “What I have in mind is, someone to go in and pose as a client, and convince them that you have a grudge against a whole bunch of people. A group, a church, whatever you want. Something that would require revenge on a large scale. The idea is to get them to offer you the superhex. You can—what is the problem now?”
Holgersen was shaking his head. “But I can’t go undercover for you.”
Thea tried not to show her irritation. Surely she could talk him into it. “Why not?”
“For one thing, I could lose my job.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. “And for another, I did a little poking around on Fury Unlimited, even though I wasn’t supposed to. Asked a few questions, irritated a few people.”
“You? Irritating?”
He ignored the jab. “I was never there in person, but they probably have a file on me with a picture in it. Somebody might recognize me. Why can’t you go?”
She huffed. “Because they would definitely recognize me.”
“But you have this magical illusion thing.”
“It only makes me look like my human self,” Thea said. “Also recognizable.”
“Okay, so who would be a stranger to them?” Holgersen asked. “And still care enough about all this to be willing to put themselves on the line?”
Thea smiled as a flash of inspiration hit. “They wouldn’t be strangers, exactly, but one of the Bowmans would work.”
Thea met Holgersen at the Bowman house the next day. She didn’t bother with all the trouble of getting a human illusion and driving; they were going to have to learn the truth about furies anyway. Holgersen had agreed to go half an hour earlier, to prepare them.
And they took it pretty well, all things considered. They accepted Thea’s existence without much outward difficulty. Marshal was a bit standoffish, but that could just as easily have been because Thea had threatened him with her claws the last time they’d met. Laurel tried to be a good hostess, asking Thea whether “her kind” drank tea, and directing her to the chair she thought would leave the most space for her wings.
So, over sweet tea and lemon cake, Thea told them about the superhex and the Ninth Disorder, and about what had really happened to the Lexington family.
They seemed almost as relieved as they were angry.
“Well, it is kind of a lot to process, I’ll admit,” Marshal said when she finished.
“But we knew there had to be some other explanation,” said Laurel. “We knew Boyd would never do what they said he did.”
“And we’re glad to have anyone telling us the truth,” Marshal added. “Even if it is a mon— er… mythical creature. So thank you.”
“We didn’t come just to tell you the truth,” Thea said. “We knew you’d want justice for Boyd. You can help us prove they framed him as part of their cover-up.”
“How?” Laurel asked.
“We want one of you—or even both, if you’re more comfortable—to go there, posing as potential clients,” Thea said. “Detective Holgersen can suit you up with a wire, or whatever the current technology for that is—”
“No wires involved,” Holgersen interjected. “You’d wear a very unobtrusive device. We could disguise it as jewelry or the like.” He was using his flat cop voice, the one he’d used when Thea had first met him, when she’d concluded he was either an iceman or a robot. Now that she knew him a little better, she wondered whether she should feel flattered that he’d let her see him lose his temper so many times since.
“We couldn’t just use our cell phones?” Laurel asked.
“They’ll most likely take those away from you,” Thea said. “We do, when human clients come in. To keep you from recording or taking pictures without permission.”
“And once we got in there, what would we talk about?” Marshal asked. “Are we ourselves, or do we have made-up identities?”
“Yourselves,” said Thea. “Make them think you blame Hexing House for everything. Hemlock Heights, the cover-up, Boyd and his family. You can’t stand that we got away with it. You want revenge. You want to curse the whole colony—every one of us. The scale is the important thing. It’s got to be clear that individual hexes would be inefficient at best.”
“But don’t mention the superhex specifically,” Holgersen added. “That might be too suspicious. Let them come around to offering you that.”
They’d disagreed on that point; Thea thought it was plausible that Boyd’s family might have heard of the superhex, and didn’t see any reason they couldn’t ask for it directly. But she would let Holgersen try it his way. He was, after all, the one with experience catching criminals.
The Bowmans agreed to the plan. Thea called her office to tell them that Aunt Bridget was sick, and took a few personal days off work. Then she called Flannery to make sure her cousin wouldn’t contradict that story.
“But what are you doing really?” Flannery asked.
“I can’t tell you,” Thea
said. “I’m sorry, but it’s for your own good. I don’t want to risk you getting into trouble when you’re so new. How are your exploratories going, by the way?”
“Fine,” Flannery said. “And that’s a nice change of subject. Does this have anything to do with the fight you had with Alecto at the funeral?”
“Flan, I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to get into it.”
“Can you at least tell me if it’s dangerous?”
Thea bit her lip, then decided to tell her cousin the truth about that much, at least. “It might be.”
Flannery sighed. “Be careful, then.”
“Please don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Holgersen made similar excuses to his own boss, and the Bowmans did the same. They could all be ready to leave by the next morning.
“Alecto won’t trace any of the travel or anything back to you?” Holgersen asked Thea.
Thea shook her head. “I’ve got more than enough money of my own. We’ll use that for whatever we need.”
Holgersen looked curious about that, but he didn’t ask any questions. Thank heavens for small favors. Thea was already edgy enough, without having to explain how Baird had paid her off to hide what he did to her. But she hummed as she went online to book flights for the humans. Now Baird’s hush money could help expose someone else. It seemed fitting.
Despite her assurances to Holgersen that Alecto wouldn’t find out what she was up to, Thea didn’t want to raise suspicions by requisitioning any more human illusions or other resources. The next day, she flew to California on her own, and met the others at the bottom of the mountain road that led up to Fury Unlimited.
The Bowmans went on their own from there in their rented SUV, while Thea and Holgersen stood on the side of the road, hidden in the trees. Holgersen swallowed and kicked at the dirt as he watched them drive away, clearly dreading what they’d already discussed had to come next. Thea bit her lip to keep from smiling.
Without meeting Thea’s eyes he said, “I know I’m short, but are you sure you’ve got this?”
“I’ve got it. I’m stronger than I look. And we’ve been over this. We can’t risk approaching in a vehicle.”
“I know.” He said it the way a kid says I know to a parent reminding them of the inevitability of some horrible chore.
Thea laughed. “Let’s get it over with, then.”
She picked Holgersen up, like a groom carrying a bride, and flew not up the mountain but around it, approaching Fury Unlimited from the ocean side. The detective looked intensely uncomfortable with the arrangement, blushing so much Thea could have sworn she could feel the heat coming off him, but he didn’t say a word.
Thea knew the area well, thanks to her investigation, and knew of a little outcropping at the edge of the cliff where they could hide, sheltered from sight, but still close enough to get to the Bowmans quickly. They’d agreed on a code phrase—there’s something in my eye—for either Marshal or Laurel to use if they felt they needed intervention.
Holgersen and Thea sat on a stone shelf, huddled together under a roof of solid rock. The detective held something that looked like a small radio between them. He pushed a button and turned a dial. At first all Thea heard was static, but with another couple of adjustments, Laurel’s voice became clear. The recording device, or transmitter, or whatever it was (Thea hadn’t bothered herself much with the technical details) was in one of Laurel’s earrings.
“—appreciate you seeing us,” she was saying.
“Of course. I’m Carson, and this is Olivia.” Thea didn’t recognize Carson’s voice, but just from the depth of it, he sounded big. “I’ll have to ask for your cell phones. It’s a standard security measure. I’m sure you understand.”
“Sure,” said Laurel.
But Marshal, according to the script they’d laid out ahead of time, made a point of balking. “I don’t feel entirely comfortable giving mine up. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend you, but I’m afraid I haven’t got a lot of trust for furies. And we’re a bit helpless without our phones, aren’t we?”
A female fury—presumably Olivia—laughed. “You came to us, Mr. Bowman. We have no reason to harm you, and I promise you, we’re not in the habit of attacking clients. That wouldn’t be very good business, would it?”
“But if it makes you feel any better, you’re welcome to keep any weapons you may have on you,” Carson said. “It’s just the phone we need.”
“I haven’t got any weapons!” Marshal said.
After a bit more back and forth, he gave up the phone. He’d always intended to. The conversation was only meant to distract the furies from any further security screening, and keep their focus on Marshal instead of Laurel (and her earrings).
“Misdirection,” Holgersen had explained when they’d made their plans the day before. “It’s one of the simplest but most powerful tools you have.”
There were standard offers of coffee and water, and then they got down to business. Thea had to hand it to the Bowmans: she’d met professional actors who gave less convincing performances. Laurel in particular played her part like she was born to it.
Still, it took a while for them to bring the furies around to the idea of the superhex. Long enough for Thea to shoot Holgersen several frustrated looks.
“If you’d just let them ask for it directly,” she complained, “we’d be out of here by now—”
“Shh!” Holgersen held up a finger.
“I just don’t feel like buying individual hexes for this Alecto person and her board is very efficient,” Marshal said. “For one thing, unless you’ve got a way to hit all of them at the exact same time, some of them might know it’s coming and avoid it.”
“And besides, I want the whole nest of them to suffer,” Laurel added.
“Colony,” Olivia corrected.
“Haven’t you got some sort of group discount plan?” Marshal asked.
Carson sighed. “Actually, quite the opposite. There may be a solution, but it would most likely cost more, not less.”
“We do have a sort of blanket hex that could be put over the whole campus,” Olivia said slowly, and Holgersen grinned at Thea.
“It’s in the early stages of development, so it’s not something we would normally offer,” said Carson. “But given it’s Hexing House you want to target, we might be able to get approval.”
“Why’s that?” Laurel asked.
Olivia said something Thea couldn’t catch, and Carson cleared his throat. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”
There was a shuffling noise, then the sound of the door opening and closing.
“Did we say something wrong?” Laurel whispered.
“No,” Marshal said softly. “I think they did. I think Carson wasn’t supposed to let on that they’d be more disposed to attack Hexing House than some other target.”
“But what if they— Marshal? Marshal what are you doing?”
There was a thump, then a lot of static. Laurel said Marshal’s name again. More thumps. The sound of skin meeting skin.
At first Thea thought she was hearing a struggle, but then…
“That didn’t sound like the unhappy kind of groan,” she said.
“Are they kissing?” Holgersen asked, horrified.
There was a sound of tearing fabric.
“Shit.” Thea scrambled out from under the rock, pulling Holgersen after her. “I’m going to have to carry you again, at least until we get to the building.”
“What’s going on?” Holgersen asked.
“That’s lust you’re hearing,” said Thea. “They’ve been hexed.”
They tried a first-floor fire exit in the back wing, where Thea knew there were residences rather than offices, first. She knew cameras would probably pick them up anyway, but they needed to balance the need for stealth with the need for speed. At least it wasn’t quite as bad as walking through the front door.
Holgersen had his gun—one he owned pe
rsonally, that wouldn’t be traced back to his department—drawn. Thea had only her claws. She almost wished she’d risked requisitioning a hex or two. But even if she’d been able to come up with a reasonable excuse for wanting them, chances were RDM wouldn’t have let her have any. Hexes, and the enchanted boxes they came in, were the most closely-guarded of the colony’s resources.
In any case, her anxiety was unwarranted. Holgersen didn’t need his gun, and Thea didn’t need even her claws, much less a hex. They could just as easily have walked through the front door, after all.
The part of the building they came into was abandoned, but as they worked their way quickly toward the front, it became clear that whatever had been done to the Bowmans hadn’t been done only to them.
Screams and cries of pain reverberated through the halls. Several furies ran here and there. Others were prone on the carpet.
Some were manifesting sins, in a scene much like what Thea had seen at Hemlock Heights. But more of them just seemed ill. Thea stopped at an intersection of hallways, where a fury she recognized was propped up against a closed door, sweating profusely and crying.
Thea knelt in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. “Delia.” She gave her a little shake. “Delia! What’s happened to you?”
Delia turned her head—Thea was grateful for that much, at least—and threw up. Thea jumped back to her feet.
“What is going on?” Holgersen asked.
“They didn’t catch Laurel and Marshal,” said Thea. “This is Alecto’s doing. She’s hexed the entire colony.” She looked askance at the pile of Delia’s vomit. “Or done something to them, anyway. I’ve never actually seen a hex like this. But I guess she got that info she needed on the ventilation system.”
Holgersen yanked the collar of his jacket up over his nose, but Thea put a hand on his arm.
“Don’t bother. Blanket hexes dissipate very quickly. This was gone by the time we got inside.”
“But you just said you couldn’t be sure it was a hex,” Holgersen pointed out.
Thea shrugged. “If it was going to hit us, I think it would have already. And if it is a hex, a blanket hex like the superhex, the effects will probably pass pretty quickly, too. Meaning we need to move fast, while they’re too distracted to pay attention to us.”
Lasting Fury (Hexing House Book 2) Page 17
