The Incubus Job

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  I hung up. I wanted to curl up on my side and just sleep, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet—figuratively or literally. I was trespassing. I had to get out of here before whoever owned the place discovered me and decided to tear me limb from limb. Welcome to Diamond City, where private property means stay out or get dead.

  I ended up following in the same direction Randall and his companions had gone. I climbed higher into the trees so I couldn’t be seen from the road. Going the other way would take me back to the guardhouse I’d passed. I wasn’t in the mood to chance that.

  I climbed up a low hill and eventually found myself facing another fence. On the other side was someone’s backyard. Beyond that was the shopping area I’d been aiming for. The curtains on the back windows of the two-story house were open, and I could hear piano music. A golden retriever poked his head out of a doghouse on the deck, warm breath pluming in the air. Not a good place to escape my prison.

  I still hadn’t seen or heard any alarms or signs of imminent attack, so I decided to risk waiting out Price. I went down the fence, ignoring the retriever, who finally noticed me and bounded across the yard, barking furiously.

  I passed three more houses and found myself at the corner of the property. On the other side was a foot or two of flat land before a twenty-foot straight drop into the culvert. I sighed. Getting out of here was going to be just about as difficult as getting in had been.

  I examined the fence. Glyphs had been etched into the undersides of the crossbars. Fuck me. I’m not sure what they’d do if I touched the fence. It depended on what sort of talent had infused them with magic, but no matter what, I wasn’t getting over without nulling it. The magic where I’d come under must have been disrupted by years of running water and the rust on the fence. I had to go back there.

  I hadn’t gone far when a line of black-and-whites whizzed by on the road below. Their lights flashed, but they had no sirens. The third car was one of the new black Camaros. The windows were tinted dark, but I was sure Price was at the wheel. I broke into a jog. Getting down the gully where I’d climbed up was much easier than getting up.

  I slid down on my butt, the deep bed of needles protecting me. Landing was more painful, with my twisted ankle and banged-up knee.

  Once again I took off my coat to get under the fence, after digging out a few more rocks to make the process easier. Once underneath, I hunch-walked through the storm drain to the other side of the road. I was tempted to follow the cop cars and see what happened, but I didn’t want Price to notice me. He was far from stupid. He’d know I’d found Nancy Jane and her mom, and he’d want to know how.

  I couldn’t let him or anyone else know how powerful I really was. I had no doubt his boss, Gregg Touray, would snatch me up in a minute. He had a decent-sized syndicate and was working hard to shut down the rampant violence and reunite the fragmented Tyet factions. Touray tended to protect his own and the hell with everyone else. Don’t get me wrong—he wasn’t the bloodiest of the Tyet bosses, but he sure as hell was no angel. I wasn’t interested in becoming anybody’s puppet, and as long as I was a relative nobody on the Tyet food chain, I had free rein to find out who’d killed my mother and what had happened to my father. Not that I was making any headway. I had zero clues.

  My mother was murdered when I was four. One day she was there, the next she wasn’t. Like me, she was a tracer. Unlike me, she wasn’t crazy powerful. At least, not that I’m aware of. All I know about her is what I remember. After she died, Dad boxed up everything that belonged to her and put it into storage. It was all ruined in a fire that burned the place down a few years later. Dad never talked about her. It was like she didn’t exist— except a year or so later, he married my stepmom, Mel, and she could have been my mother’s sister. Same red hair and green eyes, same joy, same warm heart. After my dad went missing on my sixteenth birthday, Mel and my half-sister Taylor and my stepbrothers are all I have left. We’re family—as tight as blood—but I wake every morning wondering who killed my mother. And then there’s the mystery of my father. His trace had simply vanished the day he disappeared. I don’t mean he nulled out and stopped leaving a trail, I mean that there was no trace of him left. Like he’d never even existed. What the hell had happened?

  That question drove me. He had so many answers to so many questions about my mom and about me. When I was growing up and I asked anything he didn’t want to tell me, he always put me off, saying I wasn’t ready.

  I’d never been ready enough for him.

  I realized I was clenching my teeth. Sometimes I wondered if I wanted my dad to have disappeared of his own free will or if I’d rather that he’d been kidnapped. I was torn between missing him with all my heart and a bottomless anger that he’d left me, and not only that, but he’d never bothered to tell me what happened to my mom or why someone would kill her. I always knew it had something to do with me. I don’t know why, but I know it’s a fact. Like water being wet and fire being hot. No doubts.

  I never did get groceries. I was too sore, and I looked like I’d been dragged behind a car for a few blocks. I texted Patti to tell her I was okay and that I was on my way home. She ordered me to come to the diner for dinner, but I told her I’d come in for breakfast, then shut my phone down. I needed to be alone. I’d watch the news and make sure Price had found Nancy Jane and her mother. Alive, I thought. He was going to find them alive. After that, I’d soak away the day’s soreness and bruises in my bathtub. I’d had some close calls, and I knew that pretty soon it was going to hit me. I could have died. Randall could have shot me—twice. That didn’t take into account the bombs he’d been throwing. I’d been lucky. The trouble was, luck had a tendency to run out. I had a feeling mine was running on empty, and I really didn’t want to know what was coming around the bend.

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