Stone Cold (5 page)

Zay pushed off the rail and took the distance between us in three strides. He stood there, towering above me, glowering.

“Angry black man hasn't worked since we were fifteen,” I said.

“You want to kill these people, I won't stand in your way,” he said. “But if you don't tell me who you're after
before
you go after them, I will shut you down, Shame.” Gold rolled across his eyes again. Heat lightning signaling a storm. “I will take you down.”

“I already have a mother, Z. Don't need you riding my back.”

“Are you hunting anyone now?”

A car engine cut off and a door opened and thunked shut. Someone was coming this way. Not that I could see around Mt. Zayvion.

“Right this minute?” I grinned.

He cracked his knuckles and Terric strolled over—finally—and put his hand on Zay's arm.

“I'll watch him, Zay.”

“Like you can,” I started, then shut my mouth. Kind of a dumb thing to say because Terric of all people
could
watch me. We were bound at the soul. His magic, my magic. If I killed he'd know. He'd feel it. He'd probably felt it all along.

“Hell,” I said.

“Before,” Zay said again. “Tell me
before
you kill. So I can cover your ass, you idiot.” He punched me in the shoulder, just hard enough it stung.

“Hey, now,” I said. “Keep that up and it will get personal.”

“Tell me you heard me,” he said.

“I heard you.”

“Terric. Zay,” Dashiell called out from the yard. “You two killing Shame?”

“Not yet,” Zay said.

“Good,” he said. “I have news.”

Zay tipped his head down just a bit, giving me one last look. I took another drag off the cigarette and exhaled smoke through my smile.

He pulled back and got out of my space.

Which was good. It wasn't easy controlling the Death magic when he was that close, burning that hard, pumping life with every beat of his heart.

“What's the news?” I asked.

I wiped the sweat off my mouth and paced over to the railings where Zay and Terric had been standing, needing some fresh air. My hand was shaking. Not out of fear. Out of need. That little magic trick Terric and I had pulled in the car had worn off already.

I needed to kill. Soon, to take the edge off Death magic's hunger.

Dash looked . . . different. I'd been so used to him in an office setting as our assistant when Terric and I had been, ridiculously, given the job of running the Authority in Portland after the apocalypse that I almost didn't recognize him in casual mode.

Dark thick hair, a little too long, looked like he'd combed it back with his fingers into a sort of messy, wavy thing. He had on black-framed glasses that actually looked good on him. But that's where assistant Dash stopped resembling day-off Dash.

Day-off Dash wore faded blue jeans and a heavy gray wool sweater that showed just a bit of the brown belt at his hips, and opened up at the neck in a collar held together by a single wooden button. He hadn't shaved, and the stubble showed cheekbones and a strong jaw. When he caught sight of Terric and smiled . . .

It was weird to know a guy you used to work with—a friend—was sort of into the man you were unwillingly tied to.

Weirder still to get that emotional echo of Terric's confused feelings about Dash.

Terric liked Dash. I thought he might like him a lot. But ever since the complete disaster that had been Terric's last boyfriend, Jeremy, Terric had been avoiding the whole relationship thing.

“The news,” Dash said, “is that we have a lead on Davy.”

“You know where he is?” I asked.

“We know where he's been.”

“Where?” Terric asked.

“Spokane.”

“You don't think he's there now?” I asked.

Dash shook his head. “We sent some people from the area to take a look around. The entire building is empty. No one's there.”

“Do you have records? Eyewitnesses who saw him?” Terric had suddenly snapped into ex-head of the Authority mode. He was all about dotting i's and crossing t's during times like this.

At times like this, I was all about getting out of the work he'd want to saddle me with.

I pushed away from the rail. “Well, then. I'll leave you boys to it. Thanks for the beer.” I took a step toward the house.

A shadow darkened the doorway, then moved just enough to let the light fall on her features. Sunny, Davy's girlfriend.

“If you take one step off this porch, Flynn, I will hunt you down. You owe me.”

The others fell silent and each gave Sunny a measuring gaze, then looked at me to see what I'd do.

I didn't have to guess what she was talking about. I owed her a favor, and it looked like she'd come to collect on it.

SHAME

Zayvion strolled over to Sunny, faced off in front of her, the width of his shoulders and body pretty much blocking her view of me. It effectively broke our staring contest.

“Let's have this conversation inside,” he said calmly. “Over coffee. Have you eaten?”

“I'm not hungry.”

“Plenty of food left.” He placed his hand on her arm kindly.

So I must not be the only one who saw how badly Davy's kidnapping had worn her down. Zay shifted so she could see past him again.

She glanced at me. Waited to see what I'd do. She was too pale, lack of sleep shadowing her eyes. Being a Blood magic user, being a Hound, meant she'd seen plenty of shit in her days. But Davy disappearing wasn't just another shitty day on the job. She loved him.

And love made a person go through all sorts of hell.

No need for me to be one of her hells.

“You know what? I'm starving,” I said. “Let's get some food.”

“Fine.” She turned, walked inside. Zay threw me a quick look of approval before walking in behind her.

Terric and Dash waited for me to follow, so that pretty much closed off my escape route.

While I was all for dealing with whatever Sunny wanted from me, the hunger that wouldn't be satisfied with food rolled knuckles against my gut and squeezed at my heart.

Death was hungry, and the Life magic Terric had fed it wasn't nearly enough to satisfy.

Plan: Give Sunny whatever she wanted, then go out and kill something. Also, drink more beer.

I strolled back inside.

Zayvion calmly announced that he and Allie had enjoyed everyone coming over, but that Allie was tired now, and could everyone please head home.

Apparently I'd been out on the porch long enough ignoring the living world that they'd gotten through gifts and food and all the rest of the baby doings.

Good-byes were said, hugs and handshakes exchanged, and the house cleared out pretty quickly.

“We need a beer run?” I asked when the last Hound, guest, and even Violet, my mum, and Nola were all on their way. “Be happy to score us some hooch.”

“Plenty of beer in the fridge,” Zay said, patting my shoulder as he walked past me toward the sink with empty coffee cups in his other hand.

Stuck with the living in a no-kill zone. Good times.

Dash had somehow talked Sunny into actually trying the food and was talking to her quietly in the corner of the kitchen while they both ate.

She leaned against the counter mostly watching me. I didn't know what she wanted, but I knew the favor she'd given me.

Back a few months ago I'd killed Terric's boyfriend. I hadn't told Terric about it. I hoped I wouldn't ever have to tell him, but if it came up, I wasn't going to lie or defend my actions. Jeremy had been a grade-A asshole. He'd hurt Terric.

I'd taken care of that problem.

But Sunny had helped me track him down and had kept her mouth shut about it.

So yeah, I owed her.

I grabbed a beer and strolled into the living room.

Terric was helping Allie move the gifts into the nursery, and I found myself standing around with my hands in my pockets.

Eleanor pointed at a couple of pastel bags left by the couch and pointed at the stairs.

“Fine.” Anything to make this parade move a little faster.

I held up the bags as Allie walked back into the living room. “Want these somewhere?”

“I can take them.” She reached out for the gifts and I took a step back. Her touching me was a bad idea right now.

“I got it. Nursery's upstairs, right?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you okay, Shame?”

“Why?”

“You're helping.”

“Funny. I'm aces, love.”

“Upstairs, on the left.”

I passed Terric coming down the stairs and ignored his raised eyebrow at the baby gifts in my hands.

Hall, wooden stairs, dark wooden railing. There were a couple of pictures of Allie and Zay on the wall, and an antique table on the landing. Left, second door down to the nursery.

It was a small room, painted a soft yellow with white trim. A couple of wooden birdhouses were attached to one wall, and the shadows of swallows in flight winged across the ceiling. A painted tree anchored the far corner, and sitting out on the branch of the tree was the silhouette of a gargoyle with his arm and wing around a child.

Eleanor floated in and pressed her hands over her smile. She loved this stuff.

It was . . . amazing, really. Like a little world where nothing bad could ever happen.

I hoped that was true. I hoped this kid would have a much better life than any of us. But as long as there was magic in the world, I didn't think that could ever be true.

Wooden floor, wooden dresser, wooden crib. A pile of stuffed puppies—no, hounds, at least three dozen of them probably given to Allie from the Hounds themselves—was artistically stacked on top of Stone, Allie's pet gargoyle, who held very still in the corner.

He burbled when I came in.

“Hey, Stoney, you big dork. You been keeping an eye on Allie and baby Beckstrom?”

He was roughly the size of a Saint Bernard, big round eyes, pointed ears, wings on his back. He sat on his haunches, peoplelike fingers wrapped around wolflike back feet. His gaze shifted from me to the floor just in front of his feet.

A pink puppy about the size of a plum lay on the floor.

“You want this?” I bent, picked up the puppy.

Stone hummed, a sort of harmonious vacuum cleaner sound. I grinned and walked up to him.

“Hold still.”

His eyes followed my hand as I slowly raised the stuffed toy and balanced it on top of the other two puppies already on his head between his ears.

I could practically feel him shiver in pleasure.

“There you go, buddy. You look fierce.”

He pulled his lips back away from a collection of teeth that would make a shark jealous.

I put the gifts down on the rocking chair as quietly as I could so as not to spoil the peace of the place somehow.

I turned.

“Hey,” Allie said. “How about that talk?” She stepped into the little room, and I stepped back so there was some distance between us.

“What can I help you with, Al?”

“I need to ask you a question.”

I spread my hands. “All ears.”

“Did you kill Brandy Scott?”

“Eli Collin's Soul Complement?” I asked. “I thought the doctors said she died of a heart attack.”

“Her heart stopped beating.” Allie leaned against the crib and crossed her arms. “But she was under careful observation in the mental institution, Shame. Constant care.”

“And?”

“And you haven't answered me yet.”

See, Allie knew how to get right to the point.

“She's dead,” I said. “I don't see that it matters how she got that way.”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you did it. Zayvion doesn't think you'd be dumb enough to kill the only bargaining chip we had to get Eli and his boss, Krogher, to negotiate with us so we could get Davy and all those other people they've kidnapped back. But I think you did it because Eli killed Victor and Dessa. Am I wrong?”

“What do you want me to tell you, Al? I'm glad she's dead, even though we lost the bargaining chip.”

“You killed her.”

I didn't say anything, just stared at her.

She closed her eyes, then opened them again. “Hells, Shame. I can't believe this. You know he'll come for you. Eli Collins will walk right up to you and kill you in your sleep the first chance he gets.”

“Let him come,” I said. “I'd be happy to have a little heart-to-heart with him.”

“And that's why you did it, isn't it? You didn't want to negotiate—you wanted to declare war.”

“He killed Victor,” I said quietly. “And Dessa. I'm not sorry Brandy's dead.”

“Does Terric know?”

“I think this conversation has about run its course, don't you?”

“So he doesn't know.”

I hated that she could read me so well, but then, she'd been a Hound for years, and a damn fine one. Plus, she knew me pretty well.

“You and Terric should leave. Out of the country, somewhere safe.”

“Hold on,” I said. “One, I can take care of myself and so can Terric. We're safe right where we are. Two, I didn't say I killed her, I just said I'm not sad about her death, and three, you need to let go of this. Put it down completely, Allie. Eli was threatening to kill me long before Brandy was dead. If he wants to kill me, he is welcome to step up to bat and give it a swing.

“But I do not want you getting in the middle of any of this. You do remember he took a stab—literally—at Zayvion a few months back? He has technology to pop himself into any room anytime he wants, and he knows where you live.

“So listen to me, love.” I stepped toward her. “You are not to do anything to become a target.”

She shook her head and looked away from me. “I can't just—”

“You can.
Just.
” I tipped my head to catch her gaze. “Do you understand how important it is to me that you stay out of this and keep that little godbaby of mine safe?”

“The baby will be fine,” she said.

“We don't know that. You and Zay don't know that. The plan of you two not using magic or breaking magic until little Beckstrom-Jones shows up is still the right plan. A couple months and you can be in this fight up to your neck if you want,” I said. “Until then, please, Allie.” I reached over, touched her hand. “Stay far, far away from this.”

Her eyes widened just a little at my touch. At the cold of it, the dead of it.

I pulled my fingers away and gave her half a grin. “Fine,” I said before she could ask. “I'm fine. My magic's fine. It's under control.”

She shook her head. “You think you're good at it, don't you?” she said as she walked toward the door.

“What?”

“Lying.”

“Grading on a curve I'll pull an easy B-plus in bullshittery any day.”

“You know I'll share what I know with Zayvion,” she said as we walked down the stairs.

“Sure. Send him my way if he has any questions.”

We walked out into the living room and Zayvion shifted in the love seat, making room for Allie to sit next to him, his arm around her.

He gave me a questioning look and I shrugged. She'd tell him what we were talking about or not. Lady's choice.

Dash and Terric sat as far apart from each other on the couch as possible, looking just as uncomfortable as it sounds. Sunny leaned against the bookshelf picking at a plate of fruit.

“Is this it?” I asked.

“This is it,” Zay said.

“I expected as least Mum to stay,” I said. “Not like her to miss out on a hunt.”

“I asked her to give us some time,” Zay said. “This isn't her mess to deal with.”

And by that, he meant Mum wasn't a Soul Complement, and therefore wasn't a walking magical weapon.

Interesting.

I took the open chair. “Dashiell, mate, you're on. Tell us what you know about Davy.”

Dash bent and pulled a file folder out of the messenger bag at his feet. “There's a company up in Spokane that handles testing for agricultural chemicals. Pesticides, fertilizers, that sort of thing. We've been getting the word out that we're looking for Davy, Eli Collins, and Krogher, the man who we think is keeping Eli under his employ and using him to kidnap the people who were infected with tainted magic back before the apocalypse. But we've been careful about our investigation, using only verified channels, verified people. So the search has been slow.”

I glanced over at Sunny. She just stood there, a grape in her fingers, eyes trained on Dash. She was pretty much running the Hounds in Portland now that Davy was gone, but not every city was as organized as she was when it came to freelance magical P.I.'s.

Portland was one of the first to make strides in the Hounds being compensated fairly for their work, and for their work to be legitimized.

We might have a network of Hound eyes and ears here in town, but it wasn't the same everywhere. I was pretty sure the Hound situation in Spokane wasn't nearly as well run as what Allie had started and Sunny and Davy had perfected.

“We finally got eyes on the ground,” he continued. “One of our people got into the plant and took a look around. “The entire place was cleaned out. Not a desk, test tube, or latex glove left behind. No record of a sale. Wasn't bankruptcy. One minute the company appeared to be in full operation. The next, it was gone.”

“Odd,” Terric said, “but not that unusual. They could have pulled up tent stakes for any number of reasons.”

“Overnight?” I shook my head. “I'm going with Dash on this one. Company that size doesn't blow out of Dodge without some warning. So why do you think Davy was there?”

“Our person on the ground got this.” He pulled out a photo, handed it to Terric instead of me.

Old habits die hard. Sure, both Terric and I had been Dash's bosses, but Terric had stuck with it twice as long.

“A Containment spell?” Terric said. “Anyone could have drawn that.” He handed the picture to me. Concrete warehouse floor, yellow safety tape marking
x
's and
t
's where equipment or maybe pallets would have been.

But it was the spell on the floor—not drawn, burned into the concrete—that drew my attention. “This isn't Containment,” I said, turning the picture upside down. “This is Crossing. See the faint double arc?”

Zay leaned forward and I handed it across the coffee table to him. Crossing was a spell that could be used for getting over a river or across a border safely. But Crossing could be used for other sorts of difficult passages if you had the will for it. Might even be used for getting out of shackles, getting out of a jail cell, or getting out of a warehouse.