Undercover Magic (8 page)

"With Bellmonte involved, the importance of discovering who's behind the VR is more
crucial than ever," Marc said, careful to keep from meeting his gaze. "We have to
choose."

Cooper knew he had to focus. If only he could get her scent out of his blood.

Fighting millions of years of instinct, he paced away from Marc, struggling to control
the howling need to go to her that burned inside him. Slowly, he pushed down the urgency
vibrating into his very bones. After a moment, he turned back, determination settling
over him. His Beta risked a glance up and relaxed.

"Your orders, sir?" he asked, giving Cooper a slight bow.

"We hunt both."

CHAPTER EIGHT

I pushed against the trap door until the blasted crate of books slid off far enough
to allow me to squeeze through. I found Falcon standing in the doorway, arms crossed
and glaring at me. Relief went through me at the sight of him. Until that moment,
I hadn't allowed myself to think that he might not have gotten away.

"Still with the books. You're killin' me." I closed the trapdoor and pushed the crate
back into place.

"Where have you been?" He shoved his hand through his hair, making it stick up like
a porcupine. "I thought—"

"Takes more than a few cops and a ridiculous vampire to end me." For a moment it looked
like Falcon might fling himself across the storage room and hug me. Concern and embarrassment
heated my face. "Um...I'm sorry you were worried?"

He got himself under control and managed a short guy-to-guy kind of nod though his
eyes looked suspiciously wet. "I have the pictures I took at the school up on the
computer," he muttered. He turned away and stalked back into the main part of the
shop.

I followed him, not sure how I could make him feel better. We were here and we were
safe. That was what mattered.

Still, I was relieved to see that he'd drawn the shades over the windows and had only
a few low lights on in the back. No reason to push our luck if the police cruised
by.

We crowded around his laptop at the counter and I watched him pull up a series of
photographs.

"Looks like mostly utility bills and supply receipts," I said. "Why stuff junk like
that in a hidden safe?" I got out my iC and aimed the front of it at the screen of
his laptop. Falcon pushed a couple of keys and a beam of light connected the two devices.
A second later, the photos from my unit uploaded across the datastream and appeared
on the computer.

"Two pages of a student roster. Two electric bills, one water, three receipts from
supplies," Falcon said, looking at the pictures. "Huh. They're being way overcharged
for frankincense tears."

"Some of the names on the roster are bolded."

Falcon pointed at the screen. "That's Chiwa's friend who got transferred. Maybe these
other names are also kids who got the fake scholarships." He scrolled down. "Uh oh."

"That's Chiwa's name," I said, my stomach dropping. "This page must be a list of kids
they plan to move over."

"We can't prove that. For all we know these are kids who are failing." He knew that
wasn't true and I could hear the fear in his voice. Now that I understood what he
was really doing for Chiwa, I knew where that fear was coming from.

By stepping up as her guardian, he'd promised to look out for her and he wanted to
keep her safe. I got that. And I had no idea how to make that happen short of locking
her up.

"There's one other thing I grabbed before we left," I said, remembering what I'd found
in the safe.

I pulled the business card from my front pocket and handed it to Falcon. "The only
reason I can think of to keep a business card in a wall safe is if it's your emergency
contact. One you don't want anybody to know about."

Falcon read the card. "Jacob Laswell? The most prominent practitioner in the city?"

"Inventor of the hoverbus. Grand poo-bah of all the Charlotte covens. And I finally
remembered where I'd seen Danny's attack dog before. Coming out of Bellmonte's office
last summer. He was one of Laswell's body guards."

"I don't like that look you're getting. What are you planning to do?" His eyes widened
with sudden understanding. "No, no, no. We are not going to break into Laswell's house.
He will have more magical crap strung around that place ready to fry uninvited guests
than you could shake a wand at. There has to be another way."

"He has a reputation for keeping meticulous records. One canceled check and we have
our secret sponsor. After that, we'll let the authorities connect the dots to the
drug manufacturer."

"It's suicide."

"Chiwa's on the list, Falcon. How much time do you think she has?"

"Uncle Ben can send her to public school."

"You know she won't go for that." I kept a steady, censured gaze on him.

After a moment, he heaved a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'll put together what we might
need. And I want some of your special para juice for another Browning I've been building."

"I go alone this time," I said in a firm tone. Not only might the mission be suicide,
it would be genius-cide if he went.

"You need someone to watch your back," Falcon insisted, though his voice shook a bit
at the edges.

"You'll be support outside the perimeter."

"I can't shoot anyone from there. Have you seen the wall around his mansion?"

"Have you seen how many mercenary Weres he employs?" I countered.

"Over a dozen. But that's not the point."

I gave him my best hard ass look.

"But—"

"Keep arguing and you won't even be backup."

Facon shut his mouth.

"Good. Now I need to see Chiwa."

*  *  *

After promising Falcon about a million times that I wasn't going to tell Chiwa she
couldn't go to school anymore, he arranged for her to stop by the shop before school
the next day. I snuck in the usual way and waited in the storage area for her to show
up.

The door squeaked open and Chiwa poked her head in. When she saw me, she slipped inside,
careful to close the door behind her. She didn't want Falcon knowing about my investigation
any more than I did.

Her face reflected a collage of emotions to a level only an adolescent could manage—worry,
hope, fear, distrust. I couldn't fault her for any of them. 

Falcon and she didn't have a guardian and if anyone found out, the shop would be shut
down and they'd both be shipped off to foster care. I planned to lie my heart out
about it.

From where I stood, there was no reason for her to know. In a year, Falcon would be
eighteen and he could take the necessary steps to get legal guardianship. I was sure
it wouldn't take much for Chiwa's father to sign legal custody over. My guess was
he'd be relieved to do it.

But for now, the kid didn't need something that distressing hanging over her head.
She hadn't done anything wrong. She didn't deserve to have her world end at twelve
years old.

"I found Uncle Ben," I said.

Her hands fisted at her sides and she tensed like she was bracing herself for a slap
in the face. It made me wonder how many times that had happened to her. Anger at whoever
had done it tightened in my gut. I was doing the right thing not to tell her how tenuous
her current happiness was.

"Where?" she whispered.

"On his way to Franz Josef Land. It was hard to locate him."

"Is he alive or not?"

Hoo boy. "He's looking out for you. He just can't make contact very often."

She watched me, her gaze assessing. "I understand."

I wanted to think that meant I could relax.

"That day when you saw me. You'd come to get Falcon," she said. "Someone was going
to hurt him."

Aw, hell. My stomach dropped about two inches as regret and embarrassment plowed into
me. That day I'd been so caught up in the after rush of Bellmonte threatening everyone,
I hadn't thought to sensor what I was saying, even when I noticed Chiwa hiding behind
the tarot cards. My own childhood had been so brief, I tended to forget how to act
around normal, or even sort of normal kids.

"Um..."

"Who was going to hurt him?" she asked.

For the first time, I saw genuine concern on her face for someone besides herself.
I didn't know what to do, so I did the last thing I should have. I panicked.

"A very bad person is using your school to find talented kids so he can make drugs."

Her eyes widened and that cold pit in my stomach rolled up into my throat. "But it's
okay," I added. "We've got it under control. We're going to stop him."

"I want to help."

"You can't."

Determination settled around her mouth and I did not like seeing it. "I can do things."

"I know that. But this is dangerous," I said firmly.

That blaze of stubborn mis-placed confidence flared to life in her eyes.

Oh, crap. "It's not like we got an invitation with a map attached. This way to the
drug factory. Here's your pass. We can't involve you, Chiwa. End of discussion."

"Okay," she said, her voice calm.

"What?"

"I understand."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "No, you don't. You think the stupid adults can't take
care of this."

"Technically you're not adults. Well, you are. Kind of. But not Falcon."

She was up to something. I could feel it. I just didn't know what it was. But a scared
feeling in my gut told me it would probably not end well.

I had no idea how to fix this. The only references I had for how adults controlled
children were old sitcoms from before the attacks. "We'll just see about that...young
lady," I sputtered.

I marched past her to the door and opened it. "Falcon!"

He looked up from the counter, startled.

I pointed at Chiwa. "She's grounded."

*  *  *

Without breaking my promise to Falcon that we wouldn't forbid Chiwa from going to
school, I couldn't reasonably justify him keeping her under lock and key. A feeling
something bad might happen if she went wasn't a strong defense. And with her standing
there looking innocently puzzled, I'd ended up huffing and puffing a bit and then
admitting that it was all joke and I hoped she had a good day at school.

So lame. How did Claire Dunphy do it?

After clumsily dodging Falcon's questions, I told him that I had to meet someone but
would be back the next night, ready to move forward with our plans. This was why I
avoided entanglements and anything to do with families. Nothing but a snarly jungle
of complications ever came of it.

As a nice change to what my life had recently turned into, I reached safe house fifty-three
without a hitch. From the branches of the large tree that towered next to it, I studied
the deserted, beat-up structure.

The hideaway was one of the newest in our lineup. We'd never used it, which meant
a higher chance that it hadn't been compromised. Nothing was ever fool-proof though,
and with cops after me and assassins after Cooper, I wasn't interested in taking any
chances.

From my perch, I saw no signs of a struggle in the small, weedy yard or around the
house. No broken windows. No broken doors. Better still, everything felt...peaceful.

Cool.

I ran along one of the branches that brushed the roof and jumped toward the center
of the roof. Grabbing the edge of the eaves, I swung into the open window on the upper
floor.

My butt brushed the sill and I landed on my feet in a clean, orderly, comfortably
furnished bedroom. Cooper lounged on the large bed that stood against one wall. He
was beautifully, wonderfully naked.

"What took you so long?" he asked.

"Been a busy two days. I have a lot to report."

"Tell me later. It's about to get busier."

*  *  *

Margaret Stillman watched the safe house and surrounding area as she processed what
Marc had just told her. To some extent she felt she had a right to the emotional turmoil
colliding around in the center of her chest. She'd dedicated her life to the Clan
and therefore to Cooper. The news her old and trusted colleague had just given her
was not welcomed information.

Taking her attention off the deserted neighborhood around them, she shifted to a more
comfortable position on the slope of the roof and glanced at him. "What you're saying
is impossible."

"When the vampire threatened to claim her, he nearly lost control," Marc growled.

She'd never witnessed Cooper losing control and she'd seen him deal with a wide range
of problems including kidnappings and murders. It was hard to picture. "I've seen
the scanner results. She's human. No question."

"When did you start trusting human technology over your Prince's instincts?"

Margaret bristled at that. She'd been part of Cooper's entourage since they'd both
started shifting. "A prince second, a man first with a man's instincts. That doesn't
mean he's mated."

Marc gave her an amused look and she wasn't sure whether to be ashamed of her assumption
or more offended that he was laughing at her. "So, driven only by sex, all men are
basically flawed?"