The Returned (21 page)

Three and Five spotted them and started jogging after them, fast enough to catch up but not so fast they didn't just look like a couple of guys late for class.

“They're closing in,” Siobhan said.

“Thanks, hadn't noticed.” Wraith scanned the area, her mind spinning as it tried to come up with some kind of plan. It wouldn't take long for Three and Five to figure out Edward and Caitlin weren't with them. They might break off the chase and go back to searching for them.

“We can take some cover there,” Siobhan said and nodded to some buildings just ahead. “We wait for them and take them down.”

“No,” Wraith said. “We can't risk a fight here, and I'd rather not kill or hurt them if we can help it.”

“Aye, that's all fine and well,” Siobhan said. “But you've got about thirty seconds before we're out of options.”

They were almost out of the quad and into what looked like a food court. She saw some balconies and elevated walkways that connected two of the buildings on multiple levels.

Maybe lose them in a building? She quickly looked over the quantum information within the buildings, hoping maybe there was a usable door there. She was shocked to find there were literally dozens in every building.

She looked around and saw a little coffee stand and maybe twenty people hanging around.

“Lots of witnesses,” she muttered to herself.

“What?” Siobhan asked.

Wraith glanced back over her shoulder. Three and Five were twenty feet away.

“Screw it,” Wraith said. “Run!”

She and Siobhan broke into a sprint and bolted for the pseudo-alleyway between the buildings and the open skywalks. From the surprised sounds behind them, so did the two legionnaires.

“Jump,” Wraith said, drawing together a quick-and-dirty formula and releasing it.

As one, they leapt and were catapulted up and forward by the kinetic equation. There were several gasps and shouts of surprise as they landed on the third-floor walkway. Siobhan did some kind of parkour move, catching the nearest railing and twisting so her feet hit the far side of the landing, stopping her easily. Wraith's foot caught the railing and she fell forward, slamming into the opposite railing so hard it almost knocked the wind out of her.

Doing her best to ignore the pain and the blow to her pride, she glanced back and saw a small crowd, including Three and Five, staring at them in awe, many of them with their phones out and recording.

“
Kaput
,” Wraith growled and released a ripple of entropic energy, frying the phones and their memory cards, as Siobhan pulled her to the closest door and into the building.

It was exactly as she imagined a university building looking; lots of long hallways with doors on each side. She spotted three doors she could use just on this floor.

“That was bleeding deadly,” Siobhan said. “The jumping part I mean. The landing was a bit dodgy, yeah?”

Wraith glared at her. “Yeah, well, not all of us were trained by John Woo.”

The sound of pounding feet echoed up the stairs. They'd bought a few minutes at best.

“Just get us out of here,” Siobhan said. “Teleport us out, or get us a fecking door. Something.”

Wraith shook her head. “They'd just double back. We need them out of the equation—”

Siobhan opened her mouth.

“Without bodily injury,” Wraith said.

That's when a thought came to her, and she couldn't help but smile. Hopefully there was enough time to do it.

“Come on,” she said and headed down the hall to an alcove just past a usable door.

She tried to run, but she'd hit that railing too hard, so she fell into a brisk walk that didn't feel like the definition of agony when she breathed. Siobhan followed, glancing behind and ahead of them. The Fian kept one hand in her jacket, presumably on a pistol. As they walked, Wraith drew together a formulation for the door, reaching out through countless connections between the doors to find someplace distant but not dangerous. She found one at random and almost laughed when she figured out the location.

The sound of pounding feet was getting closer.

Wraith tossed the formula at the door, linking it with the destination door. Then she grabbed Siobhan, pulled her into the alcove, and wrapped them in a cloaking equation. She silently thanked Joker for the chance to figure out how to do it before now.

Siobhan must've felt the spell settle over her, just like Wraith did, because she went still and silent.

Slowing her breathing, Wraith reached past the pain, fear, and doubts that threatened to break her concentration. She'd never held three spells at once before. Still holding the door and the cloak in place, she drew together the third part of her plan.

Her head throbbed, and it felt like it was taking forever, the symbols and numbers drifting lazily into place. All the while the footsteps drew closer, with only quick pauses where they were probably looking into the classrooms through the small windows.

Then the footsteps rounded a corner, and Siobhan tensed. The alcove was small, just enough to get out of the way, not out of sight. Wraith placed her hand on Siobhan's shoulder to keep her from moving as the calculation finished. It took all the focus Wraith had to hold the other two and release the third.

Then a rather imperfect copy of Wraith stepped out of the alcove, followed by one of Siobhan. The two simulacra glanced back, then ran away from Three and Five, who bolted after them, passing the real Wraith and Siobhan without so much as a sideways glance.

The illusionary pair opened the door Wraith had linked and went through it. Three and Five caught the door just before it closed and ran through.

As soon as the door closed, Wraith broke apart all the equations she was holding. The cloak fell, the illusions melted, and the door became just another door.

“Enjoy Vegas, boys,” Wraith said and collapsed.

Siobhan caught her and looked from her to the door and back. “How'd you open the bleeding door with an illusion?”

“There was a slight magnetic field holding the photons in place,” Wraith said and rubbed at her temples, hoping it would keep her head from exploding. “In other words, they were solid but only just.”

“Nicely done, love,” Siobhan said and smiled. “Off to meet Edward and Caitlin then, yeah?”

“Just give me a minute to catch my breath,” Wraith said. “I think I'm feeling better.”

Then she threw up.

“Ah, hell,” Siobhan said. “At least I'm not wearing me new boots.”

“A
ny sign of them?” Edward asked and checked the side mirror.

“No, I think we lost them,” Caitlin said, glancing in the rearview mirror for the hundredth time.

She decided it would be better if they got off this road though, just to be safe. They turned onto a smaller, residential street and barely made it a block before the illusion around them fizzled and the car returned to its original shape and color.

“How does she do all this stuff?” Edward asked, shaking his head. “I pore over books, analyzing spells and trying to create new ones. She just pulls stuff out of nowhere and does it without even breaking a sweat.”

“I think it's a matter of practicality.”

Edward nodded. “You're probably right. For her, magic is a matter of daily survival. If I had to do that, I'd probably be better at improvising too.”

“And that's ignoring the whole ‘being kidnapped by a nightmarish collection of evil wizards and tortured into near insanity' thing.”

“I feel bad for her,” he said. “I wish we could do more to help.”

Caitlin reached over and took his hand. “Me too, but from the sounds of it, Brigid is doing as good a job as anyone could. We just have to trust Wraith to look out for herself and ask for help when she needs it.”

“How many of us recognize that at the time?”

She squeezed his hand. “It's easier for some of us.” She smiled. “Especially when you have really good people in your life to help you see when you need help.”

He kissed her hand. “That's true.” His smile faded a little. “Do you think they'll be okay?”

Caitlin laughed. “Between the two of them, they could probably take on a battalion.”

“That's sort of my point,” he said.

Caitlin opened her mouth, then thought about it and closed it. He was right. Wraith was smart and more streetwise than Caitlin would ever be, but in a lot of ways, she was still a kid. Siobhan was as tough, fast, and deadly as a navy SEAL. But she also tended to be the sort to kick a door down instead of trying to find an open one.

“I'm sure they'll be fine,” she said, hoping saying it aloud would convince her. It didn't.

They drove in silence for a long while, both checking behind them to the point of certain paranoia, justified as it might be. After thirty minutes of not seeing a familiar car, Caitlin steered toward the first address, which was right across the street from the crime scene she and Edward had visited yesterday.

“I really would love her to show me how she does that door and teleport thing,” Edward said as Caitlin turned onto their destination street.

Siobhan and Wraith stood waiting, leaning against the fence. Wraith was drinking from a bottle of water, and Caitlin thought she looked a little green.

“Are you okay?” Caitlin asked after they parked and walked over.

“Just overexerted myself,” Wraith said.

“She was fecking brilliant, she was,” Siobhan said, beaming. “Got two of them Legion boys out of the picture—”

“What?” Edward and Caitlin both asked at the same time.

“I didn't hurt them,” Wraith said and took another drink.

Siobhan started laughing. “She sent them to fecking Las Vegas!”

Caitlin and Edward shared a look.

Wraith smiled and shrugged. “I figure it buys us a couple hours at least, even if they have some way of teleporting, which I don't think they do.”

“Five is better than seven,” Edward said. “But we probably shouldn't dawdle all the same.”

“Any ideas how we go about this?” Wraith asked. “I'm guessing knocking on the door and asking if anyone in the house has recently taken up the hobby of zombie-making is the wrong path to take.”

“Probably,” Edward agreed and dragged his finger along the arm of his glasses, whispering something to himself. “I don't see anything unusual at either house.”

“Oh yeah, duh,” Wraith said and lowered her goggles. “Yup, looks normal to me too.”

“We should check anyway,” Caitlin said. “Don't you think?”

Edward nodded. “It's possible there's some artifact or something giving them the power. The person might not even have magical talents.”

“So I ask again,” Wraith said.

“Police following up on the investigation?” Edward asked.

“You might look the part of a detective,” Siobhan said to Edward and nodded at Caitlin. “And her as well, but I don't recall many guard what are blue-haired teenagers.”

“Discriminatory bastards,” Wraith said.

Caitlin thought about it. “What about reporters?”

Edward's eyebrows went up. “That's good. Doing a story for a magazine and we want to ask those involved some questions. Plus it avoids that nasty bit about impersonating a police officer.”

“Yes,” Caitlin said. “Let's avoid felonies whenever possible.”

“Okay. A story on what?” Wraith asked. “Recent increase in resident zombie populations?”

“If we get inside,” Caitlin said, ignoring Wraith's comment, “do you think between the two of you that you can find whatever this thing might be? Even if it's not being used or in the same room?”

Wraith nodded. “Probably. If it's a person, we should see it once we get inside. The house will be soaked in magic, even if it's not leaking out.”

“Really?” Edward asked.

Wraith nodded. “Homes, real homes, tend to hold things inside better. It works like insulation. If it's an object that's doing it, even if it's not . . . I guess ‘turned on' is the best term to use, we should see still magic pouring off it. Either way, the house will have residue in it.”

“Let me do the talking,” Caitlin said to Edward. “We both know you're a terrible liar.”

Edward nodded reluctantly, and the four of them walked up to the first house.

“Take this, just in case,” Wraith said and handed Caitlin something.

Caitlin looked down to see a cardboard credit card, like what you get in new wallets.

“What is this going to do?” Almost before the question had left her lips, the card shimmered and became an ID with the
Newsweek
logo and Caitlin's face on it.

Wraith smiled.

“Should I be worried about your proficiency at making fake IDs?” Caitlin asked.

“It's only so I can vote,” Wraith said. “Now, let me see if I can make the gun-toting, tattooed badass here and myself a little more nondescript.”

Caitlin felt a tingle in the air and watched as Wraith's and Siobhan's appearance changed: Wraith's hair shifted to brown, Siobhan's tattoos vanished, and they both looked to be wearing plain shirts and jeans.

“Don't see what the problem was,” Siobhan said as she looked down at herself.

Caitlin tucked the card away and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” said a man's voice through the door.

“Mr. LaPier?” Caitlin asked.

“Who's asking?” the man said.

“My name is Caitlin, and I'm a writer with
Newsweek
magazine—”

“I ain't interested in no subscription,” he said.

“No, sir,” Caitlin said. “It's not like that. My colleagues and I are doing a story about the New Orleans police.” She hoped that angle would get the man's attention. “Word is the department has improved, but we're talking with those who were victims of crimes for their side of it.”

The door opened, just a few inches, and a man in his early forties looked out. “Who you say you with?”

“
Newsweek
,” Caitlin said and held out the ID Wraith had forged.

The man eyed it for a moment, then Caitlin, his gaze lingering a bit on Wraith. Then he nodded and opened the door. “Come on in.”

They stepped through the door and into a small living room. To one side was a galley kitchen, its sink overflowing with dirty dishes. The entire house looked like it hadn't been cleaned in months. There was trash on the old coffee table and floor, with several pieces of dirty clothing. Caitlin tried to ignore the odor of sweat, garbage, and stale beer.

“Excuse the mess,” he said and began clearing some things away but quickly gave up.

Caitlin scanned the room and saw several pictures of Mr. LaPier and a rather attractive woman. It showed them aging together in various scenes, always smiling and laughing.

“It's, uh, been hard since I lost my Jen,” Mr. LaPier said and sat on the couch.

“I'm very sorry for your loss,” Caitlin said.

He motioned for them to sit, but there was only a single chair. Caitlin took it. Wraith, Siobhan, and Edward stepped up behind her. She glanced back and saw them taking notes and whispering to each other. Wraith surreptitiously slipped Caitlin a small notepad and pen. Caitlin took it as casually as she could and flipped to a clean page.

“Thank you for agreeing to talk to us, Mr. LaPier,” she said.

“Call me Jason,” he said. “Can I get y'all anything?”

“Thank you, no,” she said. “I promise we won't take much of your time. And so you know, we won't be using any names or direct quotes, so please feel free to be as frank as you like.”

Jason nodded. “All right, what do you want to know?”

“Anything you can tell me about the event, including the investigation after,” she said. She felt more than a little ghoulish intruding on this man's pain and loss. However, the thought of why she was doing it was enough to keep up the ruse.

“I wasn't home when it happened,” he said. “I was working a double at the casino. I was working as much overtime as I could get. I wanted to surprise her with a trip to Paris.” He looked up. “Jen, I mean.”

“Is that her?” Caitlin asked and nodded to a picture on the end table. It sat in an oasis of cleanliness. No clutter or trash was within a foot of it, and the picture itself looked as though it was dusted daily.

He took the picture and held it reverently as he stared at it. “Yeah.”

“She's lovely.”

Jason nodded. “Yes, she was.”

“I know this is hard, Jason,” she said. “But please continue.”

He did, explaining how he'd been pulled off the casino floor by police who told him Jen had been killed early in the shooting. She was just getting home when it got bad and was killed by a stray shot. Through tears and barely contained sobs, he told how the police did what Caitlin thought sounded like a normal and thorough investigation. This much gave her some relief.

Watching him, she knew even before Wraith gave her a slight shake of her head that he wasn't responsible. This poor man wasn't angry; he was broken and empty. Her heart broke for him, and she wished more than anything she could do something for him. In the end, she decided that all she could do was listen to his story and let me him go on about his late wife. She couldn't help but think back to her time in the Dusk Lands and how Edward would've been if she hadn't made it back. They weren't romantically involved at the time, of course, but he'd been in love with her for years by that point. Then she thought of something happening to him, or God forbid Fiona, and how that might just break her too.

“Thank you so much for your time,” Caitlin said after twenty minutes or so, when it was clear he'd said all he could. “I can't tell you how much I appreciate your sharing your story and how sorry I am for your loss. You clearly loved her very much.”

Jason nodded and wiped tears away. Then he picked up a beer can off the coffee table and drank it down.

Caitlin let herself out, the others following. Jason didn't so much as look up from the picture.

“Jesus,” Siobhan said when they'd crossed the street. “There's hardly anything left of the fella.”

Edward didn't say anything. He just took Caitlin's hand and held it tight. She squeezed back, each of them saying all they had to in that subtle gesture.

“Okay, I'll be the asshole,” Wraith said and drew some looks. “We need to go to the next house.”

Everyone nodded and walked three houses down to the next address.

Caitlin knocked, but no one answered.

“They could be at work,” Edward said. “It is the middle of the day during the week.”

Caitlin nodded. “Let's go to the last place. If that's a dead end, we'll try again here later.”

“Assuming the Legion doesn't come here first,” Wraith said.

“I don't think they've come to this conclusion,” Edward said. “They were following us, and I don't think it was just to keep tabs on us.”

“Why do you think that?” Wraith said.

Edward shrugged. “Instinct. One's body language wasn't the sort of surety I'd expect from someone at the end of a chase. I suspect he was trying to see if we knew anything and followed us in hopes we'd take him to his next lead.”

“Bollixed up them plans, didn't you, love?” Siobhan asked Wraith.

“No telling for how long though,” Wraith said.

The third address was at the corner, just two houses down. It was in the best shape of any house on the block. As they stepped up to the door, Caitlin noticed the doormat. It was clean and bore a quote from Joshua 24:15. “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

Caitlin knocked.

The peephole went dark.

“Who is it?” an older woman asked.

“Mrs. Moreau?” Caitlin asked, glad she remembered the name.

“Yes.”

“My name is Caitlin Brady,” she said and gave the same story she'd used on Mr. LaPier.

There was a moment of silence, and Caitlin wondered if this was the person responsible. What if she attacked them through the door? It suddenly occurred to her how stupid she'd been. If someone was under the influence of a dark force, there was no telling—

There was the rattle of a door chain, a couple of deadbolts unlocking, and then the door opened. A grandmotherly woman, barely over five feet tall, looked them up and down. Caitlin again offered the false ID, which she glanced at to make sure it was still working.