Grave Dance (14 page)

I’d paced around the living room until Hol y complained I’d paced around the living room until Hol y complained that I was making her dizzy. Then I set about gathering the spel ed disks, a task complicated by the fact that I’d released my grave-sight and deep shadows clung everywhere despite al the lights that I’d turned on in the house. Falin had disappeared by the time I got off the phone with Tamara. Hol y said he’d asked for a first-aid kit and retreated to my loft. I didn’t want to leave Hol y and Caleb, so I hoped he’d be okay on his own. I planned to check on him soon.

Tamara’s loud knock sounded just as I shoved the broom under the couch, searching for any disks that had rol ed away. Hol y and Caleb jumped to their feet, rushing for the door. I started to rise, but the broom hit something larger than a spel ed disk. I swished the broom to the side, knocking the object out from under the couch. Then I yelped, jumping back.

Caleb and Hol y whirled around at the sound, and Tamara stopped, her foot hanging in the air where she’d been stepping through the open doorway. My heart crashed hard as I stared at the raven I’d exposed. I lifted my broom like a basebal bat, but the raven only lay in a crumpled heap. It was the one Caleb had doused with the spel , and its chest lifted in slow, labored breaths, but it was otherwise stil .

“Oh, eew,” Hol y said, and then she ran into the kitchen.

She emerged a moment later with the large strainer Caleb had used for last night’s spaghetti. She tossed it over the bird and then piled magazines from the coffee table on top to weigh the strainer down. “There.”

“What is going on?” Tamara asked, her eyes taking in the chaos.

Caleb and I had both frozen at the sight of the raven, and even now, with the bird trapped under the strainer, I hadn’t lowered the broom. I took a deep breath and pried my fingers off the wooden handle. Then I sagged into the closest chair, feeling as if my bones had melted into closest chair, feeling as if my bones had melted into something not completely solid.

Caleb and I fil ed Tamara in on the happenings of the night, not taking turns so much as interrupting each other.

Hol y joined in once we got to the end and related how we’d found her on the lawn. After we’d finished, silence fil ed the room.

“Have you cal ed the police?” Tamara asked after several minutes had passed.

Caleb shook his head. “I don’t know that we should get them involved.”

“I think we have to,” Hol y said, hugging her knees to her chest. She’d added a pair of shorts to her outfit, but with the oversized shirt draping her petite frame, she looked more like a frightened child than a confident prosecutor.

Caleb often said three was the perfect number for a group—there were never ties in a decision. Since I was the final roommate, everyone turned to me.
To call the police
or not?
I dodged. “What can you tel me about the spel on Hol y?” And Caleb—the ravens had scored a deep gash on his forearm and raked his knuckles. If al it took was one scratch for the spel to transfer, he’d definitely caught it.

Tamara pursed her lips and motioned for Hol y to sit on the couch.

Hol y settled herself on the cushion farthest from the trapped raven—we were al giving the strainer a wide berth

—and Tamara sat on the coffee table, directly across from Hol y.

“May I?” Tamara pointed to the col ar of Hol y’s shirt.

Hol y shrugged. “I’l take it off.” She turned her back to us and pul ed the shirt over her head. She pressed the material over her breasts before turning back.

Yesterday the cu sith’s scratch had looked like Hol y had been clawed by a tiger, but today the jagged tears stretching from her col arbone to the top of her opposite breast were thinner, the skin pink and healing quickly from some of the best healing spel s money could buy. The ring some of the best healing spel s money could buy. The ring of teeth marks on her shoulder was a little worse, the scabs stil thick and angry-looking, but by al accounts, healing in remarkable time.

I’d scanned them with my ability to sense magic already and I’d felt a tickle of magic that seemed more like a memory of a spel than anything active or malicious. Now I cracked my shields again, peering through the bril iant swirls of the Aetheric to focus on Hol y’s exposed wounds.

When I squinted, I thought I caught a tinge of gray behind the healing skin. Maybe.

After peering at Hol y’s wounds, Tamara looked over at Caleb and motioned for him to show her his hand and arm.

She studied his wounds for a while and then leaned back, placing her hands to the side and slightly behind her on the coffee table.

“If I hadn’t been looking for it, I never would’ve spotted the spel ,” she said, shaking her head. “And it’s a weird spel . I mean, it’s more a trace than anything active.”

Damn. That was exactly what I was getting as wel . I closed my shields and blinked in the sudden darkness clouding my vision.

“Can you sense what it is or how to counter it?” Hol y asked. She was an exceptional spel caster, but she wasn’t the least bit sensitive.

Tamara reached out a hand, but hesitated before touching Hol y’s shoulder. “This might feel a little invasive.”

Hol y nodded assent and Tamara pressed her palm to Hol y’s skin. Tamara’s eyes closed, and whatever she did made Hol y cringe, but she didn’t pul away.

“It’s like the spel is hibernating,” Tamara said without opening her eyes. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s like the spel formed a crystal ized shel . I doubt it can do anything inside al that protection, but it’s barely traceable and I can’t get a slip of magic beyond the cocoon it’s formed.”

“So it would have to be active to be dispel ed,” I said, fol owing her logic, though I didn’t like it one bit. “But we fol owing her logic, though I didn’t like it one bit. “But we don’t know what triggers the spel or what it does.”

Tamara dropped her hand and nodded that she was finished. Hol y dressed quickly.

Caleb leaned back in his chair. “Hol y left yesterday morning. When she claimed she hadn’t, I thought she just didn’t want us to know who she went to see.” He shot her an apologetic glance. “But maybe that was just a trial run for tonight.”

It was possible. I drummed my fingers on the arm of the chair. “Both events happened in the middle of the night.

Was the timing based on when the caster assumed Hol y’s absence wouldn’t be noticed and when the attack would be unexpected, or does the spel ’s host have to be asleep?”

“Great. I’l never sleep again,” Hol y said, slumping.

Yeah, like that was real y an option.

“I think you should go to the hospital in the Quarter,” I told her. Caleb voiced his agreement and I turned to him. “You too.”

“No.” He pushed himself out of his chair. “Hol y, yes, definitely. She should be under observation and under the care of trained physicians and healers. No offense.” He glanced at Tamara. “But not me. I’m fae—the spel might not even work on me.”

“Or it might.” It was probably aimed at me, after al , and I was part fae. I hadn’t told Tamara and Hol y that little detail yet, so I kept that thought quiet. Caleb gave me a look that said he wouldn’t budge, and I sighed. “So now what?”

“We need to cal the police,” Hol y said.

I agreed. Caleb didn’t. Majority vote won and Hol y phoned in the cal .

“You probably need to find a way to fix that,” Tamara said, pointing to the far wal of the room.

I twisted to see what she meant and the blood drained from my face. In the air where we’d fought the ravens, smal , pinprick-sized wisps of Aetheric energy twisted.

I’d ripped holes in reality. Again.

Chapter 14

T
here were seven smal holes—not nearly as many as spel ed disks, so apparently only the ravens I’d destroyed had caused tears. I couldn’t close the rips in reality, so Caleb worked on glamouring over the holes while we waited for the police to arrive. My friends shot curious gazes my way, but none demanded an explanation. Yet.

I excused myself, gathered PC and my purse from the guest room, and then retreated to the stairs so I could dress before the cops arrived. I grabbed one of the charmed disks before I left. I had no doubt the police had their very best people working to unravel the spel s on the disk, but the feet, the constructs, and the spel s on my friends were linked, and once the police confiscated everything, I wouldn’t get another look at the disks. I needed a lead in this case. Now more than ever. Dropping the disk in my purse, I took the steps two at a time. It wasn’t until I’d reached the top and my free hand was hovering over the doorknob that I remembered my apartment wouldn’t be empty.

Falin is on the other side of this door.
And aside from when he’d been unconscious and when we’d fought side by side against the ravens, I hadn’t seen him in a month. Now I couldn’t decide if the prospect of being alone with him excited, terrified, or agitated me, but my fingers shook as I grabbed for the doorknob.
Get hold of yourself, Alex.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open, not sure what I would find.

Not finding anything wasn’t what I was expecting.

Not finding anything wasn’t what I was expecting.

I looked around. The room was empty. What felt like a bag of rocks dropped in the bottom of my stomach, and I sagged against the doorframe.
He left.

PC wiggled in my arms, and I set him down without moving a foot more into my empty apartment. PC, oblivious, pranced across the room and checked his food bowl. A couple of bites of kibble were left in the bottom and he happily—and noisily—chomped away at the early morning snack.

I stood there looking around a moment longer. Then I pushed away from the doorframe and forced my back straight.

So he left. So what?
It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before.

I shoved the door closed harder than needed and dropped my purse by the side of the bed—which Falin had apparently stripped before leaving. I glanced around, but I didn’t spot the bedding anywhere.
Great.

I headed for my dresser, pul ing my shirt over my head as I walked. Then the bathroom door opened.

I jumped, whirling around at the sound and pul ing my shirt flat against my chest in one movement. Falin stepped out of the bathroom, his ice blue gaze meeting mine.

“Alexis.” My name, my real name, was a whisper around a smile as he stepped forward. Then his gaze moved down, taking in my half-dressed state. His eyebrows lifted and the smile turned rakish.

I gulped and looked away. “I, uh . . .” I’d thought he’d left, but there real y wasn’t a reason to say that. “The police are on their way,” I final y said, and then turned my back on him so I could dig through my clothes hamper one-handed. The hamper was currently fil ed with clean but unfolded clothes

—the dirty clothes were in the pile beside it.

I felt the heat of his body warm the air behind my bare back before his hands landed on my shoulders. His skin was pleasantly warm against mine, and I felt the urge to was pleasantly warm against mine, and I felt the urge to lean back against his body and take the comfort I’d find in his arms.

But I didn’t.

He’d left without a word and appeared just as suddenly.

On top of that, he was the Winter Queen’s assassin—
and
her lover.
Besides, I didn’t do relationships. I stepped away from him.

“I have to get dressed,” I said, clutching the change of clothes I’d grabbed and heading for the bathroom.

“Alex . . .” But he trailed off, not fol owing my name with anything.

I stopped halfway to the bathroom and turned back around. “What happened to my sheets?”

He glanced at the bed. “Soaking in the tub. They had my blood on them.” He gave me a weak half smile and lifted one shoulder. The movement wasn’t smooth, though, and he wasn’t quite fast enough to cover the wince.

He’s hurt.
Wel , of course he was hurt. He’d shown up half dead last night and he’d reopened the wound during the fight. The idea that he could have healed al that damage in the last hour was pure faerie tale, but he did
look
healed.

His platinum blond hair hung loose and clean around his face and shoulders, and I could see no evidence of wounds on his face or scalp. His clothes were what I’d grown accustomed to when we’d worked together before—dress slacks and a crisp white oxford—but what I saw couldn’t have been real because the clothes he’d worn here were torn and bloodstained, and he didn’t have clothes stashed in my apartment. I almost opened my shields to see what he wore under the glamour, but what if he wasn’t wearing
anything
?

And speaking of clothes, I was stil only half dressed and I could hear the police sirens in the distance.
Crap
. I ducked into the bathroom and dressed quickly. When I emerged a minute or two later I found Falin sitting stiff-backed on my stripped bed.

stripped bed.

“Don’t tel them I was here,” he said without standing. I stopped. “Who? The police?”

He nodded.

“I can’t lie to the police for you.”

“I’m not asking you to lie. Just don’t mention me.”

I frowned and studied him. I didn’t real y know Falin. Once I’d thought I did, at least a little, or at least I’d
felt
like I knew him. But feelings could be deceptive.

“What’s going on?” I asked, leaning against the wal . I could hear the sirens in front of the house now. I needed to get downstairs, but I wanted some answers from Falin first.

“What happened to you?”

Falin pushed away from the bed. He walked across the room and peered through the window before answering.

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated? Someone tried to kil you.”

He didn’t respond.
Maybe I have it wrong?
He was the Winter Queen’s assassin. Maybe it wasn’t that someone had tried to kil him. Maybe they were just trying to stop him from kil ing them.

He stil didn’t say anything.

“Falin, why are you here? Why now?” Had he just needed a place to hide while he was injured? Was that why he was here?

From the main portion of the house below I heard the front doorbel ring. I had to go, but . . . I looked up at him, waiting for an answer.

“I wanted to contact you,” he said, stepping forward, and I wasn’t sure if his words meant he had wanted to contact me during the month he was missing, or if he was here because he wanted to contact me. He reached out like he was going to place his hands on my hips.

I skittered sideways, out of his path.

“Oh, no.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You do not get to disappear for a month, say you meant to contact me, and then try to pick up right back where we were. It doesn’t and then try to pick up right back where we were. It doesn’t work that way.”

His shoulders sagged as he stepped back. Then a half smile made the edge of his lips crook. “You’re mad at me.”

“And that’s amusing because?”

The half smile spread into a lopsided grin, and he stood up straighter. “You wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t care. I’m on to you, Alexis.”

Oh, that insufferable, arrogant—

Voices drifted up from the floor below. “I have to go,” I said, turning my back on him as I pul ed the door open.

I hesitated once I stepped into the stairwel and glanced back at him. I wanted to ask if he’d be there when I returned, but I didn’t. Without saying good-bye, I pul ed the door closed behind me and escaped the rest of our awkward conversation to have a much easier one. It was probably a bad sign that I considered it easier to be questioned by the police.

The responding officers weren’t happy that we’d waited nearly an hour to cal the authorities or that we’d al dressed and started cleaning up the crime scene. Oh, wel .

The anti–black magic unit took the lead in processing the scene. The room was photographed, the charmed disks were gathered and each sealed individual y in a magicaldampening bag, and even the raven was caged and taken away. After we’d given the lead detective, a weary-looking witch by the name of Tepps, our statements

—al of which were edited slightly to leave out Falin and the soul col ectors—Tamara drove Hol y to the hospital. Caleb refused to go, and nothing in the ABMU’s arsenal detected dark magic on Caleb, so he couldn’t be committed against his wil .

“We’ve bagged thirty-three disks. If there was one per construct, you two were lucky to get out with just a couple of construct, you two were lucky to get out with just a couple of scratches,” Detective Tepps said as he watched his people work.

I nodded. “Yes, sir.” We were. Though there’d been six of us, not two. “Have you deciphered any of the spel s on the disk from the attack in the Quarter?”

Detective Tepps looked me up and down, as if assessing why I wanted to know—and if wanting to know made me a suspect. He had a day’s worth of stubble on his chin and a line around his head that made me suspect he’d worn a hat earlier in the night.

“We’ve made some progress,” he said, but didn’t offer to elaborate. One of the techs cal ed his name and he excused himself.

I hovered on the outskirts of the investigation, hoping to pick up something useful for my own case. I didn’t. This wasn’t a major crime—there was no body, little damage, and nothing had been stolen. The cops tagged and bagged and then moved on. They were wrapping up when the FIB, and Agent Nori in particular, appeared on the scene.

“So, another construct attack?” she asked as she gave the bagged evidence a cursory glance.

“We have a live specimen this time,” Tepps told her, and she sniffed as if that fact wasn’t terribly interesting.

“Ms. Craft,” she said to me as she invited herself into Caleb’s house. She looked around and when her eyes landed on Caleb himself, a sharp, and not the least bit kind, smile cut across her face.
If the FIB has been gathering
independents to be questioned, have I endangered
Caleb?
We weren’t anywhere near the floodplain, but I wasn’t sure how wide a net had been cast.

“You probably need my statement,” I said, stepping into Nori’s personal bubble.

She glanced at me, managing to look down her nose despite my superior height. “I imagine you’ve already given your statement. But I have some questions. For
both
of you.” She put emphasis on the last statement.

you.” She put emphasis on the last statement.

“Agent Nori,” a male, and very familiar voice said behind us.The self-satisfied smile fled from Nori’s face, and she turned, her head snapping up and her shoulders back as she stood straighter. “Sir, I hadn’t heard you were back in the city.”

“Should I state the obvious, Agent?” Falin asked as he stepped through the door. The front door, not the inner door from my room, as if he were just now arriving on the scene.

“I’l question them,” he said, nodding toward Caleb and me.

“But, sir, the constructs are built on witch magic, so probably not glamour, like Ms. Craft claims. I’ve been working this case and—”

“And now I’m working it.” Falin placed his hands on his sides. The movement caused his blazer to gape open, exposing the dark butt of his gun in his shoulder holster.

Blazer, gun, and holster were more glamour—unless he had some sort of dislocation spel —but the display stil oozed both authority and threat. “This case has drawn my attention, and the attention of her majesty. I want al your files on my desk by the time I reach the office.”

“Yes, sir,” Nori said, the muscle in her cheek bulging as she clenched her jaw. Then she stalked out of the house.

“Are you the boogeyman in the FIB?” I asked once the door shut behind Nori.

Falin flashed me a smile. “Try agent in charge.”

Right, good to know.
Does that mean he’s behind the
snatch-and-bag in the floodplain?
No, he couldn’t have been. Nori had indicated he’d been out of the city. But maybe he could help me stop it. I waited until the last of the cops had left before asking.

Falin let out a long breath and leaned against the wal , as if standing straight for so long had taxed him. “It’s complicated.”

This wasn’t the first time I’d heard that tonight. I opened my mouth to ask for a clarification, but Caleb brushed past my mouth to ask for a clarification, but Caleb brushed past me.

“Don’t waste your breath, Al,” he said, and grabbed the mal et from where he’d dropped it earlier. “I’l be in my workshop if you need me.” Then he stormed into the garage. A trickle of magic sparked through the air as he activated his circle, and he said, “Oh, and Al, be careful what you say to her majesty’s bloody hands.”