Dead Witch Walking (31 page)

Steadying myself, I took off one of my amulets and pushed it across the desk. My bag was full of spells, but not one of them was for pain. “I understand, Captain Edden. I’m sure we can come to an agreement that would be mutually beneficial.” My fingers left the small disk, and I struggled to keep my eyes from widening at the rush of pain. Nausea twisted my stomach, and I felt three times as weak. I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake offering it to him. As witnessed by the desk clerk, few humans approved of Inderlanders, much less their magic. I thought it worth the risk. Edden seemed unusually open-minded. It remained to be seen how far.

His eyes showed only curiosity as he reached for the charm. “You know I can’t accept this,” he said. “As an FIB officer, it would be considered…” His face went slack as his fingers closed upon the amulet and the pain in his wrist was deadened. “…a bribe,” he finished softly.

His dark eyes met mine, and I smiled despite my pain. “A trade.” I arched my eyebrows, ignoring the pull of tape. “An aspirin for an aspirin?” If he was smart, he’d understand I was testing the waters. If he was stupid, It didn’t matter, and I’d be dead by the end of the week. But if there was no way to convince him to act on my “tip,” I wouldn’t be sitting in his office.

For a moment Edden sat as if afraid to move and break the spell. Finally an honest smile came over him. He leaned to his open door and bellowed out into the hall, “Rose! Get me a couple of aspirin. I’m dying in here.” He leaned back, grinning as he hung the amulet about his neck and hid it behind his shirt. His relief was obvious. It was a start.

My worry grew as a harried-looking woman walked in, her heels clicking on the gray tile. She visibly jerked at finding us in Edden’s office. Pulling her eyes from me, she held out two paper cups, and he pointed to the desk. The woman’s brow furrowed, and she set them next to his hand and silently left. Edden reached a foot out after her and kicked the door shut. He waited, shifting his glasses higher up his nose before crossing his good arm over his bad.

I swallowed hard as I reached for the two cups. Now it was my turn for trust. There might be anything in those tiny white pills, but finding relief from my pain was beyond expectation. The pills rattled as I brought the cup close and peered down at them.

I’d heard about pills. I’d had a roommate who swore by them, keeping a bottle of white tablets next to her toothbrush. She said they worked better than amulets, and you didn’t have to stick your finger. I had watched her take one once. You were supposed to swallow them whole.

Nick leaned close. “You can palm it if you want,” he whispered, and I shook my head. I quickly upended the cup with the aspirin, tasting the bitter bite of willow bark as I took a swallow of tepid water. I struggled not to cough as I felt the pills go down, clenching at the pain the sudden movement brought on. This was supposed to make me feel better?

Nick patted me hesitantly on the back. Through my watering eyes I could see Edden all but laughing at my ineptness. I waved Nick off and forced myself to sit up straight. A moment passed, then another. Still the aspirin didn’t take effect. I sighed. Nothing. No wonder humans were so suspicious. Their medicines didn’t work.

“I can give you Kalamack, Captain Edden.” I glanced at the clock behind him. Ten forty-five. “I can prove he’s dealing in illegal drugs. Both manufacturing and distribution.”

Edden’s eyes went alight. “Give me the proof, and we will go to the airport.”

I felt my expression freeze. Ivy had told him nearly everything, and he still wanted to talk to me? Why hadn’t he taken the information and brought some glory for himself? God knew it would be cheaper. What was he up to? “I don’t have all of it,” I admitted. “But I heard him discussing the arrangements. If we find the drugs, that’s proof enough.”

Edden pressed his lips together to make his mustache move. “I won’t go out on circumstantial evidence. I’ve been a fool for the I.S. before.”

I glanced at the clock again. Ten forty-six. His eyes met mine as I looked away, and I bit back a flash of annoyance. Now he knew I was in a hurry. “Captain,” I said, trying to keep the imploring from my voice. “I broke into Trent Kalamack’s office to get the proof but got caught. I spent the last three days as an unwilling guest. I overheard several meetings that substantiated my beliefs. He’s a manufacturer and distributor of illegal biodrugs.”

Calm and collected, Edden leaned back and swiveled his chair. “You spent three days with Kalamack and expect me to believe he was speaking the truth in front of you?”

“I was a mink,” I said dryly. “I was supposed to die in the city’s rat fights. I wasn’t supposed to escape.”

Nick shifted uneasily beside me, but Edden nodded as if I had confirmed his suspicions.

“Trent is running a rainbow of biodrugs out nearly every week,” I said, forcing my hand down from playing with my hair. “Blackmailing anyone who can afford it and who is in the unfortunate situation of needing them. You could chart his hidden profits by plotting the I.S. Brimstone takes. He’s using them as a—”

“Distraction,” Edden finished for me. He hit the nearby file cabinet, leaving a small dent. Both Nick and I jumped. “Damn! No wonder we never catch a break.”

I nodded. It was now or never. Whether I trusted him or not was irrelevant. If he didn’t help me, I was dead. “It gets better,” I said, praying I was doing the right thing. “Trent has an I.S. runner on his payroll who has been heading most of the I.S. Brimstone takes.”

Edden’s round face went hard behind his glasses. “Fred Perry.”

“Francis Percy,” I corrected him, a sudden flash of anger warming me.

Eyes narrowed, Edden shifted in his chair. Clearly he didn’t like a bad cop any more than I did. I took a shaky breath. “A shipment of biodrugs is going out tonight. With me, you can nail them both. The FIB gets the credit for the tag, the I.S. looks like a fool, and your department quietly pays off my contract.” My head hurt, and I prayed I hadn’t just flushed my only chance down the toilet. “You could make it a consultant fee. An aspirin for an aspirin.”

Lips pressed tight, Edden looked at the acoustic-tiled ceiling. Slowly his face calmed, and I waited, stilling myself as I realized I was clicking my nails together in time with the ticking of the clock.

“I’m tempted to bend the rules for you, Ms. Morgan,” he said, and my heart gave a thump. “But I need more. Something the higher-ups can chart on their profit and loss statements that will show value for more than a quarter.”

“More!” Nick exclaimed, sounding angry.

My head throbbed.
He wanted more?
“I don’t have anything more, Captain,” I said forcefully, frustration riding high in me.

He smiled wickedly. “But you do.”

My eyebrows tried to go up, halted by the tape.

Edden glanced at his closed door. “If this works out—catching Kalamack, I mean…” A thick hand reached to rub his forehead. When his fingers dropped, the easy, self-assured confidence of an FIB captain was gone, replaced with an eager, intelligent gleam that set me back a pace. “I’ve been working for the FIB since I left the service,” he said softly. “I worked my way up by seeing what was missing, and finding it.”

“I’m not a commodity, Captain,” I said hotly.

“Everyone is a commodity,” he said. “My departments at the FIB are at a great disadvantage, Ms. Morgan. Inderlanders have evolved knowing human weaknesses. Hell, you’re probably responsible for half our mental hang-ups. The frustrating truth is, we can’t compete.”

He wanted me to rat on my fellow Inderlanders. He should have known better. “I don’t know anything you can’t find in a library,” I said, gripping my bag tightly. I wanted to get up and storm out, but he had me right where he wanted me, and I could do nothing but watch him smile. His flat teeth were startlingly human compared to the predatory gleam in his eye.

“I’m sure that’s not entirely true,” he said. “But I’m asking for advice, not a betrayal.” Edden leaned back in his chair, seeming to collect his thoughts. “Occasionally,” he said, “tonight with Ms. Tamwood, for example, an Inderlander comes to us seeking help or with information they don’t feel—prudent—taking to the I.S. To be honest, we don’t know how to deal with them. My people are so suspicious that they can’t gain any useful information. On the rare occasion when we do understand, we don’t know how to capitalize on it. The only reason we were able to contain Ms. Tamwood is because she agreed to be incarcerated once it was explained we would be more willing to listen to you if she did. Up until today we have reluctantly turned situations like this over to the I.S.” His eyes met mine. “They make us look like fools, Ms. Morgan.”

He was offering me a job, but my tension swelled instead of easing. “If I wanted a boss, I would have stayed with the I.S., Captain.”

“No,” he protested quickly, his chair creaking as he sat upright. “Having you here would be a mistake. Not only would my officers want my head on a pole, but it’s against the I.S./FIB convention to have you on the payroll.” His smile grew wicked, and I waited for it. “I want you as a consultant—occasionally—as the need demands.”

I let my held breath out slowly, seeing for the first time what he was after.

“What did you say your firm was called?” Edden asked.

“Vampiric Charms,” Nick said.

Edden chuckled. “Sounds like a dating service.”

I winced, but it was too late to change it now. “And I get paid for these
occasional
services?” I asked, chewing on my lower lip.
This might work.

“Of course.”

Now it was my turn to stare at the ceiling, my pulse racing at the chance that I’d found a way out of this. “I’m part of a team, Captain Edden,” I said, wondering if Ivy was having second thoughts about our partnership. “I can’t speak for them.”

“Ms. Tamwood has already agreed. I believe she said, ‘If the little witch says yes, I’ll go along with it.’ Mr. Jenks expressed a similar feeling, but his exact words were substantially more—colorful.”

I glanced at Nick and he shrugged uneasily. There was no guarantee, when all was said and done, that Edden wouldn’t conveniently forget to pay off my contract. But something in his dry humor and honest reactions had convinced me he wouldn’t. Besides, I had already made a pact with a demon tonight. This couldn’t be any worse.

“Captain Edden, we have a deal,” I said suddenly. “It’s Southwest’s 11:45 flight to L.A.”

“Great!” His good hand hit the table with a thump, and I jumped again. “I knew you would. Rose!” he shouted to the closed door. Grinning, he leaned to open it. “Rose! Get a Brimstone dog team out to…” He looked at me. “Where’s the Brimstone take?” he asked.

“Ivy didn’t tell you?” I said in surprise.

“She may have. I want to know if she was lying.”

“Main bus depot,” I said, my heart hammering all the harder.
We were going to do this. I was going to tag Trent and get my death threat paid off.

“Rose!” he shouted again. “The old bus depot. Who’s pushing paper tonight who didn’t go to the hospital?”

A feminine but robust voice cut over the accumulated clatter. “Kaman is here, but he’s in the shower getting that bug dust off. Dillon, Ray—”

“Stop,” Edden said. He stood, and, gesturing for Nick and me to join him, darted out of his office. I took a deep breath and lurched to my feet. Much to my surprise, my aches had retreated to dull throbs. We followed Edden down the hall, excitement making my pace quick. “I think the aspirin is finally working,” I whispered to Nick as we caught up to Edden. He was hunched over a spotless desk, talking to the same woman who had brought me the pills.

“Call Ruben and Simon in,” he said. “I need someone with a cooler head. Send them to the airport. Tell them to wait for me.”

“You, sir?” Rose glanced over her glasses at Nick and me. Her frown said it all. She wasn’t happy having two Inderlanders in the building, much less standing behind her boss.

“Yes, me. Get the unmarked van around front. I’m going out tonight.” He hoisted his belt up over his hips. “No mistakes. This one has to be done right.”

T
he floor of the FIB van was surprisingly clean. There was a faint odor of pipe smoke, reminding me of my dad. Captain Edden and the driver, introduced as Clayton, were up front. Nick, Jenks, and I were on the middle bench. The windows were cracked to dilute my perfume. If I’d known they weren’t going to release Ivy until after the deal was done, I wouldn’t have put it on. As it was, I reeked.

Jenks was on a rampage, his tiny voice scraping along the inside of my skull as he ranted, winding my anticipation to new heights. “Put a sock in it, Jenks,” I whispered as I ran the tip of my finger around the bottom of my tiny cellophane bag of nuts for the last of the salt. When the aspirin had dulled my pain, my hunger kicked in. I’d almost rather have done without the aspirin if it meant not being famished.

“Go Turn yourself,” Jenks snarled from the cup holder where I had put him. “They stuffed me into a water cooler. Like I was a freak on display! They broke my fringing wing. Look at it! Snapped the main vein. I’ve got mineral spots on my shirt. It’s ruined! And did you see my boots? I’ll never get the coffee off them.”

“They apologized,” I said, but I knew it was a lost cause. He was on a roll.

“It’s going to take me a week to grow my damn wing back. Matalina is gonna kill me. Everyone hides from me when I can’t fly. Did you know that? Even my kids.”

I tuned him out. The tirade had started the moment they released him and hadn’t quit yet. Though Jenks hadn’t been charged with a crime—seeing as he’d been at the ceiling cheering Ivy on while she pummeled the FIB officers—he had insisted on poking about where he shouldn’t until they put him in an emptied water jug.

I was beginning to see what Edden had been talking about. He and his officers hadn’t a clue as to how to handle Inderlanders. They could have trapped him in a cupboard or drawer as he nosed about. His wings never would have gotten wet and become as fragile as tissue paper. The ten-minute chase with a net wouldn’t have happened. And half the officers on the floor wouldn’t have been pixed. Ivy and Jenks had come to the FIB willingly, and they still ended up leaving a trail of chaos. What a violent, uncooperative Inderlander might do was frightening.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Nick said loud enough for Edden in the front to hear. “Why is Mr. Kalamack padding his pocket with illegal gains? He’s already independently wealthy.”

Edden turned halfway around in his seat, his khaki nylon jacket sliding. He had a yellow FIB hat on, the only sign of his authority. “He must be funding a project he doesn’t want to be found. Money is hard to trace when it’s gotten from illegal means and spent on the same.”

I wondered what it was. Something more going on in Faris’s lab, perhaps?

The FIB captain brought his thick hand to his chin, his round face lit by the cars behind us. “Mr. Sparagmos,” he questioned, “have you ever taken the ferry tour of the waterfront?”

Nick’s face went still. “Sir?”

Edden shook his head. “It’s the damnedest thing. I’m sure I’ve seen you before.”

“No,” Nick said, easing back into the corner of the seat. “I don’t like boats.”

Making a small sound, Edden turned back around in his seat. I exchanged a knowing look with Jenks. The small pixy made a sly face, catching on faster than I had. My empty bag of peanuts crumpled noisily, and I tucked it in my bag, not about to throw it onto the clean floor. Nick was shadowed and closed, the dim light from oncoming motorists blurring his sharp nose and thin face. Leaning close, I whispered, “What did you do?”

His eyes remained fixed out the window, his chest rising and falling in a smooth breath. “Nothing.”

I glanced at the back of Edden’s head.
Yeah, right. And I’m the I.S. poster girl.
“Look. I’m sorry I got you into this. If you want to just walk away when we get to the airport, I’ll understand.” On second thought, I didn’t want to know what he had done.

He shook his head, giving me a quick flash of a smile. “It’s all right,” he said. “I’ll see you through tonight. I owe you that for getting me out of that rat pit. One more week, and I was going to go insane.”

Just imagining it gave me a chill. There were worse fates than being on an I.S. death list. I touched his shoulder briefly and eased back into my seat, surreptitiously watching him as he lost his hidden tension and his breath came easier. The more I knew about him, the larger his contrasts with most of humanity became. But instead of worrying me, it made me feel more secure. Back to my hero/damsel in distress syndrome. I’d read too many fairy tales as a child, and I was too much a realist not to enjoy being rescued once in a while.

An uncomfortable silence settled in, and my anxiety swelled. What if we were too late? What if Trent changed the flight? What if it had all been an elaborate setup?
God help me,
I thought. I had gambled everything on the next few hours. If this didn’t happen, I had nothing.

“Witch!” Jenks shouted, jerking my attention to him. I realized he had been trying to get my attention for the last few moments. “Pick me up,” he demanded. “I can’t see jack from here.”

I offered him a hand and he clambered up. “I can’t imagine why everyone avoids you when you can’t fly,” I said dryly.

“This never would have
happened
,” Jenks said loudly, “if
someone
hadn’t torn my freaking
wing
off.”

I set him on my shoulder, where we could both watch the outgoing traffic as we headed into the Cincinnati–Northern Kentucky International Airport. Most people just called it the Hollows International, or even more simply, the “Big H.I.” The passing cars were briefly lit by the scattered streetlights. The lights became more numerous the closer we came to the terminals. A flash of excitement went through me, and I straightened in my seat. Nothing was going to go wrong. I was going to nail him. Whatever Trent was, I was going to get him. “What time is it?” I asked.

“Eleven-fifteen,” Jenks muttered.

“Eleven-twenty,” Edden corrected, pointing to the van’s clock.

“Eleven-fifteen,” the pixy snarled back. “I know where the sun is better than you know what hole to pee out of.”

“Jenks!” I said, aghast. Nick uncrossed his arms, a wisp of his confidence returning.

Edden raised a restraining hand. “It’s all right, Ms. Morgan.”

Clayton, an uptight cop who didn’t seem to trust me, met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Actually, sir,” he said reluctantly, “that clock is five minutes fast.”

“See?” Jenks exclaimed.

Edden reached for the car phone and snapped on the speaker so we all could hear. “Let’s make sure that plane is grounded and everyone is in place,” he said.

Anxious, I adjusted my arm sling as Edden punched three numbers into the phone. “Ruben,” he barked into it, holding it like it was a mike. “Talk to me.”

There was a brief hesitation, then a masculine voice crackled through the speakers. “Captain. We’re waiting at the gate, but the plane isn’t here.”

“Not there!” I shouted, wincing as I yanked myself to the edge of the seat. “They should be boarding by now.”

“It never came to the tunnel, sir,” Ruben continued. “Everyone is waiting at the terminal. They say it’s a minor repair and should only take an hour. This isn’t your doing?”

I glanced from the speaker to Edden. I could almost see the ideas circulating behind his speculating expression. “No,” he finally said. “Stay put.” He broke the connection and the faint hiss disappeared.

“What is going on?” I shouted into his ear, and he gave me a black look.

“Get your butt back in your seat, Morgan,” he said. “It’s probably your friend’s daylight restrictions. The airline won’t make everyone wait on the tarmac when the terminal is empty.”

I glanced at Nick, whose fingers were nervously tapping out the rhythm of an unheard beat. Still uneasy, I settled back. The landing beacon from the airport ran an arc across the underside of the clouds. We were nearly there.

Edden punched in a number from memory, a smile easing over his face as he took the phone off the speaker. “Hello, Chris?” he said, as I faintly heard a woman’s voice answer. “Got a question for ya. Seems there’s a Southwest flight stuck on the tarmac. Eleven forty-five to L.A.? What’s up with it?” He hesitated, listening, and I found myself chewing on a hangnail. “Thanks, Chris.” He chuckled. “How about the thickest steak in the city?” Again he chuckled, and I swear, his ears reddened.

Jenks snickered at something I couldn’t hear. I glanced at Nick, but he was ignoring me.

“Chrissy,” Edden drawled. “My wife might have a problem with that.” Jenks laughed with Edden, and I tugged a curl, nervous. “Talk to you later,” he said, and clicked the phone off.

“Well?” I asked from the edge of my seat.

The remnants of Edden’s smile refused to leave him. “The plane is grounded. Seems the I.S. had a tip there’s a bag of Brimstone on it.”

“Turn it all,” I swore. The bus was the decoy, not the airport. What was Trent doing?

Edden’s eyes glinted. “The I.S. is fifteen minutes away. We could pull it right out from under them.”

On my shoulder, Jenks started to swear.

“We aren’t here for Brimstone,” I protested, as everything started falling apart. “We’re here for biodrugs!” Fuming, I went silent as a loud car approached us, heading back into the city.

“That one’s above city code,” Edden said. “Clayton, see if you can get a number off it.”

Mind whirling, I waited for it to pass before I tried to speak again. The engine was racing as if the driver was doing thirty over the speed limit, but the car was hardly moving. The gears whined as it tried to shift in an all-too-familiar sound.
Francis
, I thought, my breath catching.

“That’s Francis!” both Jenks and I shouted as I spun to see his broken taillight. My vision swam from the pain the quick movement started, but I half crawled to the far backseat, Jenks still on my shoulder. “That’s Francis,” I cried, my heart pounding. “Turn around. Stop! That’s Francis.”

Edden hit his fist into the dash. “Damn,” he swore. “We’re too late.”

“No!” I shouted. “Don’t you see? Trent is switching them. The biodrugs and Brimstone. The I.S. isn’t there yet. Francis is switching them!”

Edden stared at me, his face alternating in the shadow and light as we continued up the long drive to the airport.

“Francis has the drugs! Turn around!” I shouted.

The van stopped at a traffic light. “Captain?” the driver prompted.

“Morgan,” Edden said, “you’re crazy if you think I’m going to pass up the chance to slip a Brimstone take right out from under the I.S. You don’t even know if that was him or not.”

Jenks laughed. “That was Francis. Rachel burned out his clutch right proper.”

I grimaced. “Francis has the drugs. They’re going out by bus. I’d bet my life on it.”

Edden’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “You have,” he said shortly. “Clayton, turn around.”

I slumped, letting out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding.

“Captain?”

“You heard me!” he said, clearly not happy. “Turn around. Do what the witch says.” He turned to me, his face tight. “You’d better be right, Morgan,” he nearly growled.

“I am.” Stomach churning, I settled back, bracing myself at the sharp U-turn.
I had better be right,
I thought, glancing at Nick.

An I.S. truck passed us on its way to the airport, silent with its lights flashing. Edden hit the dash so hard it was a wonder the air bag didn’t come out. He snatched up the radio. “Rose!” he bellowed. “Did the dog team find anything at the bus depot?”

“No, Captain. They’re on their way in now.”

“Get them back out there,” he said. “Who do we have in the Hollows in plainclothes?”

“Sir?” She sounded confused.

“Who’s in the Hollows that I didn’t move to the airport?” he shouted.

“Briston is at the Newport mall in plainclothes,” she said. The faint ringing of a phone intruded, and she shouted, “Someone get that!” There was hesitation. “Gerry is backing her up, but he’s in uniform.”

“Gerry,” Edden muttered, clearly not pleased. “Move them to the bus depot.”

“Briston and Gerry to bus depot,” she repeated slowly.

“Tell them to use their ACGs,” Edden added, shooting a glance at me.

“ACGs?” Nick asked.

“Anticharm gear,” I said, and he nodded.

“We’re looking for a white male, early thirties. Witch. Name is Francis Percy. I.S. runner.

“He’s no better than a warlock,” I interjected, bracing myself as we came to an abrupt halt at a red light.

“The suspect is probably carrying spells,” Edden continued.

“He’s harmless,” I muttered.

“Do not approach unless he tries to leave,” Edden said tightly.

“Yeah.” I snorted as we lurched into motion again. “He might bore you to death.”

Edden turned to me. “Will you shut your mouth?”

I shrugged, then wished I hadn’t as my shoulder started to throb.

“Did you get that, Rose?” he said into the phone.

“Armed, dangerous, don’t approach unless he tries to leave. Gotcha.”

Edden grunted. “Thanks, Rose.” He flicked the radio off with a thick finger.

Jenks yanked on my ear, and I let out a yelp.

“There he is!” the pixy shrilled. “Look. Right ahead of us.”

Nick and I leaned forward to see. The broken taillight was like a beacon. We watched as Francis signaled, squealing his tires as he lurched into the bus depot. A horn blew, and I smirked. Francis had nearly been hit by a bus.

“Okay,” Edden said softly as we circled to park on the far side of the lot. “We have five minutes until the dog team gets here, fifteen for Briston and Gerry. He will have to register the packages with the front desk. It will be a nice proof of ownership.” Edden undid his seat belt and spun his bucket chair as the van halted. He looked as eager as a vamp with that toothy grin of his. “No one even look at him until everyone gets here. Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it,” I said, jittery. I didn’t like being under someone else’s direction, but what he said made sense. Nervous, I slid across the seat to press my face to Nick’s window and watch Francis struggle with three flat boxes.