Wrong Side Of Dead (38 page)

Brutus stood in the middle of his shop, clutching a leather cord. Dangling from it was a blue crystal, about four inches long, tapered at one end like a nail. Power crackled around the room, caressing my skin and urging me to tap into my Gift. I didn’t know much about mages, but I’d seen crystal magic at work, mostly as some sort of blocking spell. Blocking a person from sight, for instance, or blocking their ability to tap into the Break. It was organic magic, requiring proximity to the crystal for it to work.

Brutus glared at me, his eyes swirling with a faint hint
of light and power. “I won’t be bullied by you people. I took a blessed job, nothing more!”

Rationally, I understood that. He was a businessman. He sold exotic tea, and he enchanted crystals if you could pay him enough money. He’d helped us out a few times in the not so distant past.

Emotionally, I didn’t give a shit. He’d hurt Wyatt. He’d held people I cared about in tiny cages made of a material that injured them if they touched it. He’d taken money from my greatest enemy.

“Please, try to take me down, little girl,” Brutus said.

As much as I loved the idea of breaking his nose with my fist, I knew I’d get bounced into a concussion by that crystal in his hand. I couldn’t get through. But I bet a bullet could.

“If you insist,” I said. I raised my right hand, steadied it quickly across my left wrist, aimed my gun at his fist, and fired.

He screamed loud and long as his hand exploded, and the crystal fell. It shattered against the concrete floor, releasing a blast of power not unlike a faint electric shock. He fell to his knees, clutching his wounded hand against his chest. I walked over and kicked him in the face. He toppled over, unconscious.

“Little girl, my ass,” I said.

“Evy?”

I turned at the sound of Phin’s voice. He stood just behind Wyatt, one cage in each hand. I holstered my gun and squatted in front of Wyatt. His eyes remained wholly silver and his canines long, but he didn’t snap or snarl. He let me help him sit up.

“How’s Marcus?” he asked.

“Stunned,” Phin said. “You?”

“Same. That crystal had a pretty good punch.”

“Can you walk?” I asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Awesome.”

I found Marcus’s discarded clothes and took them upstairs. He’d pulled himself into a sitting position, but hadn’t changed back yet. His copper eyes watched me, a little too wide, and he didn’t move when I knelt down and touched his head. The fur at the base of his skull was damp with blood. My fingertips brushed a knot there and he hissed.

“Sorry,” I said. “Brutus is down. We have the girls; we need to go.”

He lurched to his feet, then promptly flopped back down. Whined.

“I know, pal, you’ve got a good-sized goose egg on your head. Can you shift back into a man, at least?”

He whined again. Downstairs, the doorbell dinged.

“Come on, Marcus.” I felt strange talking to a giant black cat. But manhandling a human down the stairs would be easier, so I needed him to shift.

Feet pounded the steps. Unsure who was coming, I said, “Watch the hole.”

“The what—? Oh.” Milo leapt gracefully over the hole in the floor and crouched on the opposite side of Marcus. “Is he okay?”

“Concussion. Brutus tossed him through the floor.”

“Ouch. No wonder he’s lying there like a stuffed animal. Big, bad mage beat him up.”

Marcus lifted his head, and I swear he glared at Milo. Yawned. Then he closed his eyes. Magic sparked around him in the faint way it always did when a Therian shifted near me. Black fur melted away, paws lengthened into fingers, pads into palms, and his face blurred as the cat gave way to the man. The sound was similar to sticky tape peeling away from skin.

His long black hair was loose around his shoulders, making the goose egg hard to see, but I still noticed some blood on his neck. Milo and I each took an arm and
helped him stand. He wobbled a little, so Milo acted as a human crutch while I assisted Marcus in stepping into his jeans.

Me dressing a naked man—I could just imagine the possessive, overprotective reaction this would get out of Wyatt’s wolf.

By the time we got his shirt over his head and settled properly, Marcus seemed more alert. Just enough floor remained along the edge of the hole for us to slide around, backs to the wall, and over to the stairs. Milo and Marcus went down first, the former still supporting the latter, and I couldn’t help smiling at the friendly rapport that had developed between them.

Down in the shop, Brutus was being tied up none too gently by Phin. Kismet had one cell phone in her left hand and another pressed to her ear. She read telephone numbers to whoever was on the other line.

“Those are all the numbers he called or called him today,” she said. “No, he’s unconscious.”

I glanced at Phin, who mouthed “Astrid” back at me. “He” had to refer to Brutus.

“He said the Lupa paid him to watch their birds until six-thirty, that they’d be back for them then,” Kismet said. Paused. “I doubt it. They’d see the shop’s closed, or they’d smell that we’d been here and run.” She walked toward the street window, probably looking for a good surveillance spot.

Wyatt was sitting cross-legged in front of the two cages, and he waved me over. I squatted next to him, relieved to see the canines gone and the silver in his eyes reduced to a single circle of color. Pride swelled my chest—he’d done that without me.

“I can summon off the locks,” he said. “I didn’t want to try without you.”

“Okay.”

His ability to summon inanimate objects to himself
had come in handy dozens of times in the past. But he hadn’t attempted it in the few hours since his infection, and I appreciated his need to be cautious. The kestrels had crowded as close to the backs of their cages as they could get without touching the silver bars, probably unsure exactly what Wyatt was now.

“It’s okay, we’re getting you out,” I said to them.

Wyatt closed his eyes and turned his right hand palm up. His fingers twitched, and I felt the shift in the Break as he connected to his tap. The silver padlock on Aurora’s cage shimmered, disappeared, then reappeared on his open palm. He hissed and dropped it. I turned the latch and opened the door.

Aurora exploded out of the cage with an excited screech and a blur of feathers. She flew the length of the room twice before settling on a high shelf, far out of reach. She screamed again, as if to say to hurry the hell up.

He summoned the second lock as easily as the first, but when he opened his eyes the silver glow was back. I unlatched and opened Ava’s cage, then pulled Wyatt away. Once we’d given the cage a wide berth, Aurora coasted down and landed on the floor. Ava crept forward in the cage, blue eyes gleaming, then hopped out. She huddled beneath her mother’s chest.

Phin approached slowly, the relief and joy on his face heartbreaking. He knelt in front of them and held out his hand. Aurora tilted her head, blinked, then pecked at his fingertips. “I’m so sorry you were taken,” he said. “Forgive me?”

She screeched at him, then began to shift. Feathers smoothed into creamy skin, and long, thick spirals of brown hair sprang from her head. As if prompted by her mother’s magic, Ava shifted as well. Soon mother and daughter were in each other’s arms. At only two months old, Ava was the size of a child four times her age, with a crown of brown curls just like Aurora’s. She sobbed as
only a baby can, her face pressed against Aurora’s chest, terrified and uncertain.

Aurora looked up, her doe eyes full of falling tears. “It wasn’t your fault, Phineas,” she said.

He choked, then collected his family into his arms and held them tight. I looked away, eyes stinging, but incredibly happy to have them both back.

Wyatt and I stood and moved away, giving them a moment. We stepped over to where Milo and Marcus were leaning against the counter. Kismet was still on the phone with Astrid, working out some sort of plan.

“I didn’t think Therians could shift so young,” Milo said quietly.

“It’s possible, but unhealthy,” Marcus whispered back. “We prefer to wait until they’re at least eighteen months old, so they’re better able to understand the shift and the stress it places on the body. The electricity used to tame them on the ferry may have forced Ava’s shift.”

A blast of hatred swept through me, directed right at Thackery, for doing such a thing to a child. It was worse than any other crime he’d committed, and it made me pray that I was there when he was executed.

Kismet snapped her phone shut. “Okay, so Sharpe’s on his way over with a squad to watch the place, just in case the Lupa do come back to collect what they left. Humans only, so scent doesn’t tip them off.”

“Our scents permeate this place,” Marcus said. “It will take longer than a few hours for them to fade.”

“I know that and so does Astrid, but we need to take the chance. Those Lupa lost their master. We need to catch them so they’re not running free to infect anyone they get mad at.”

Wyatt flinched.

“Did she give Thackery the happy news?” I asked, jacking my thumb over my shoulder at the trio.

“No, Astrid thought Aurora might like to give him the big fuck-you in person.”

“I’d pay money to get in on that.”

“Take them back, then.” Kismet handed her keys to Milo. “I’ll stay here, sit on Brutus, and wait for Sharpe.”

I nodded, then eyed the busy street out front. “Is there a back door to this place, you think?”

“If not, we’ll make one,” Marcus said.

There was, indeed, a rusty back door hidden behind a stack of boxes. Milo and I wrenched it open, then he dashed out into the smelly, oil-stained alley to fetch the car with a promise of “back in five.” I went inside to collect our passengers, more than ready to get back to the Watchtower and rub this little victory right in Walter Thackery’s face.

Joseph was waiting in the parking area when we got back, along with a small crowd of happy and relieved faces. Aurora climbed out of the SUV with Phin’s help, holding her sleeping daughter tight to her chest. Ava had cried herself to sleep during the ride back, her young face pinched and blotchy, her rest anything but peaceful. Joseph pulled all three of them into a tight group hug—the last of their kind, reunited.

The sight clogged my throat; I looked away.

“How’s your head?” Astrid asked, stepping around the quartet.

“Fine,” Marcus said.

“How’s his head?” she asked me.

“He was dazed and confused for a while,” I replied.

“Doctor. Now.”

Marcus scowled, but didn’t protest. Not even when Astrid added, “Gant, make sure he gets there.”

Milo sighed at the assignment, but something in his
face hinted that he wasn’t as put out as he wanted us to believe.

The pair wandered off; Astrid gave Wyatt her full attention. He stared back, standing straight, more confident now than when we’d sneaked him out. “I should probably yell at you both for leaving the grounds at all, especially without knowing your ability to infect others,” she said, “but I can’t argue with your results. Nice job.”

I’d prepared for an ass reaming when we got back. Praise for a job well done was unexpected. “Did Gina tell you about Edwina Fair?” I asked.

“Yes. And she was right about Deaem’s avatar. He died last week, anaphylactic shock from accidentally consuming shellfish, which he was allergic to.”

“Accidental, huh?”

“That’s what the medical examiner’s report said. The Assembly also ruled on the Equi Elder’s request for justice.”

“Which was what?”

“That Walter Thackery die before sunset today. And now that Ava and Aurora are safe, there are no on-record objections to the ruling.”

“The Equi are satisfied with that?”

“Fortunately, yes. The Elder was convinced that Thackery was acting out of grief for the loss of his own family, and that his actions did not speak for the whole of humanity. So only Thackery is to be punished.”

Thank God for that.

“And me?” Wyatt asked.

Astrid was quiet a moment. “Elder Dane was furious when he found out you’d been taken off the premises. But I think your assistance in identifying the tea shop, as well as your restraint in confronting the owner, will go a long way toward swaying them toward leniency.”

“As opposed to what?”

“Execution for carrying the Lupa gene.”

I shuddered. “The Elders realize we’d never let that happen, right?”

“Chances are good it won’t come to that,” Astrid said, not acknowledging my implied threat.

“If the Lupa don’t return to your trap in the tea shop today,” Wyatt said, “I may be the only person who can draw them out.”

Not a fact I liked bringing up.

The quartet behind us had disentangled themselves. Ava slept on, but Aurora looked worn out, beaten down, and too damned tiny in a set of Brutus’s oversized sweats. But she stood straight, determined to look her kidnapper in the eye and show him the evidence of his defeat. In the two months I’d been dealing directly with him, Walter Thackery had always been three steps ahead of us.

Today, we’d finally beaten him.

All of the recovered kidnap victims were standing outside the storefront where Thackery was held—Dawn Jenner, Leah de Loew, and Lynn Neil, with Kyle and Jackson by their sides. Joseph walked with us and joined the group, everyone as overjoyed to see Aurora and her daughter as we had been. Baylor was there, with Elder Dane and a second gentleman I didn’t recognize. By his long, narrow face and tall, slim build, I guessed him to be the Equi Elder.

Turned out I was right. Elder Joshua Dannu was the youngest Elder I’d ever seen, maybe at his half-life point, and very pleasant considering the recent murder of one of his own. Both Elders went inside with us, escorted by Baylor and Astrid. I followed with Wyatt by my side and Phin close behind. After him came Aurora and the rest of our rescued Therians.

Thackery was still chained to his chair. A drying puddle of blood surrounded his feet, mostly around the rear of the chair. Marcus had mentioned the loss of three digits, and evidence of other torture dotted his bare chest and arms. They’d physically broken him, and yet, as he raised his head to see who’d come inside his private prison, some keen intelligence still glimmered in his eyes. He tracked our movements, his face revealing nothing.