by T. G. Ayer
He smiled and patted one of my hands absently. He was already gone, his mind on what awaited him beyond the Nexus.
I straightened, schooling my features. “I do have a case, just so you know,” I sucked in a silent breath, and winced, “I’m going to Hong Kong to meet with the client.”
“What?” he snapped, his tone sharp.
I shook my head. “I can do the jump. I’ll make sure I take a nap before I jump back okay? And if it’s too much, I’ll call someone.”
“The djinn?” He lifted a dark brow.
“No. Probably Bjorn.” Sentinel Agent, and mutual friend of Kailin’s and mine, red-headed Bjorn Larsson would provide teleportation should I need it.
Not that I would.
“Besides, I think Saleem is being interrogated at the moment. He’s out of contact and so is Logan.”
“Sounds serious.” Drake closed the ledger and slid it into the wide drawer in front of him.
I watched his slow, precise movements, wondering if he was still trying to stall, even on a minuscule level. “I suppose it might be serious. I’m worried Omega may try to make Saleem and Logan the fall guys. My brain is telling me they can’t, because too many people know the truth,” I let out a heavy sigh, “but I’m still afraid for both of them.”
Drake got to his feet and stepped away, sliding the office chair neatly into place. “What did Kai have to say?”
I shook my head. “Kai’s as much in the dark as I am.”
She’d said as much a couple days ago when she’d rung to update me on her mom’s condition. Thankfully, Celeste was much better, having regained her strength and health over the last few weeks. Kai’s uncle, Niko Odel, was incarcerated, hidden away in a Sentinel facility that only his mother Ivy Odel had access to.
Which suited everyone else just fine.
Kai still harbored a deep resentment toward the man, but I hoped he’d at least receive proper psychological treatment wherever he was.
Drake’s expression shifted; contemplative.
I raised a finger and waved it in his face. “Don’t you even think about it, gargoyle.” He looked at me, startled. I narrowed my gaze, focusing on his eyes. “I know that look. You are not changing your mind about going. I can handle the case while you’re gone.”
Drake grunted.
I folded my arms and rolled my eyes. “Fine. Give me a way to contact you in an emergency.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “There isn’t a way. Not unless I come back to check on you.”
I snorted, then waved at him, shooing him off. “Then just go, already. We’ll be fine. I have enough people here that I can call on. Storm, too, you know.”
Mention of the Immortal seemed to satisfy Drake and he nodded, then sighed. “I have to admit I feel guilty leaving you all, but I figure it’s time to do this. And get it done. Once I return, I’m never going back there again.”
Drake walked to the door, and I followed. “I’d suggest you don’t burn any bridges,” I said softly.
His shoulders tightened. “Why should I care?” A touch of defensive with a hint of denial. Typical.
“Because you still have family there. And family is important. They define who you are. Good or bad.”
“Good or bad? As in if they are good or bad, or if my definition is good or bad.”
I smacked his arm. “Shut up and stop confusing me.”
Drake laughed, then turned to wrap his arms around me. “I have enough family here, Mel. Even if I lose my blood family, I still have you and Steph. That’s enough for me.”
I submitted to the squashing, then sucked in a breath as he let me go. “Take care, my friend.” I patted his cheek then watched as he turned and headed upstairs.
I didn’t plan on being around for the final farewell. So like a coward, I jumped to Hong Kong.
Chapter 3
Ms Garner had named a prestigious restaurant—The Meridian—in downtown Hong Kong for our meeting place. The Meridian also happened to belong to Ms Garner.
Projecting to the guest bathroom, I checked if the coast was clear. The use of public toilets for my arrivals and departures was getting old.
The hotel restroom had just emptied of its last visitor and I teleported through, landing inside one of the cubicles on the far end.
I made one last check on the dagger in my boot. My second dagger, and a small pistol, were safely stowed inside my satchel along with a single change of clothing. I expected to have to change out of all this silk at some point.
As I left the cubicle and straightened my jacket, I ran my fingers through my hair and drew my satchel higher on my shoulder.
No need to rush in all blood-stained, looking like I’d just taken a beating.
Staring at my reflection, I ignored the shadows at the edges of my vision. The spirit seemed reluctant to show itself, which was strange. Had I managed to shake it loose?
But then I saw the blood.
It trickled down my upper lip and would have hit the stark white of my blouse had I not tipped my face over the sink in time.
Crap.
Annoyed and frustrated, I grabbed a wad of towels and wet them before scraping hard at my bloody nose. The bleeding had stopped, but I continued to rub it away, almost leaving a bruise on my upper lip.
Tears filled my eyes and I hit the marble counter with a growl of frustration. When I finally did find out who had done this to me, the bastard was going to pay.
This illness, this inability to project whenever I wanted to, was also my biggest hurdle to finding Ari.
How was I supposed to head out in search of my sister the moment I got a lead, when I had to check things out first, call Sentinel or Saleem for a lift, ensure I didn’t jump too many times within a specific time period? It was slowly becoming too much to handle.
And I was getting so very tired of it.
As I stared at my reflection, I saw—in my mind’s eye—Samuel’s code written in the Aurora Borealis. A message he’d written for me.
I suppressed a bitter, angry laugh.
He’d probably thought I’d grab the next astral wave and come find him. Little did he know that jumping was soon going be the death of me.
Also, the gargoyle was going to kill me when he found out I’d lied to his face.
I wasn’t getting any better and if he hadn’t been so distracted with his family problems he would’ve seen it for himself. I had no intention of allowing Drake to blame himself though.
If I played my cards right, he’d never find out I’d lied.
I straightened, took the time to wash my face again, smooth on face cream and reapply my makeup. Then I headed out to the hotel restaurant to meet my new prospective client.
The lobby was marble everywhere, beneath my feet and on the walls, gigantic gold and crystal chandeliers hung from the three-story-high ceiling, while a huge fountain took pride of place in the middle of the floor.
I passed the splashing plumes of water, giving the dazzling display nothing more than a cursory glance as I drew to a stop at the entrance to the restaurant. I composed my features into a cool mask, waiting as the sober maitre’d approached, giving me a once-over from head to toe.
After mentioning Ms Garner’s name he seemed to relax a little. He nodded then guided me to a table near the giant windows. A slim, redhead sat studying the contents of a file, her short pixie cut matching her elfin features.
Beyond her, the view of the night skyline over Hong Kong harbor was stunning, and I was pretty sure I’d never afford a table at such a prestigious place.
Oh, wait. After Santiani’s generosity I probably could.
Not that I was that extravagant.
As I approached, Ms Garner looked up and I watched her expression falter. I’m not sure what she’d expected but I certainly wasn’t what she’d hoped for.
She eyed me head-to-toe—I was getting tired of being studied this way—and I wanted to wriggle in my pantsuit, very glad now that I’d taken the time to dress a littl
e nicer.
Whatever the woman’s problem was, she covered her expression with a cool smile and nodded at the menu. “What would you like to drink?” She already had a blood-red claret at her elbow.
I returned her smiled. “A sparkling water, please,” I said to the Maitre’d who gave a low bow, throwing me a genuine smile before gliding away. Perhaps the man wasn’t used to kindness from the guests here if just my manners made him smile.
Elise Garner didn’t wait for my drink to arrive. She leaned closer to me, her gold eyes glittering. “Are you sure you are up for this job?” She studied me as I frowned.
“I’m not entirely sure what you mean, Ms Garner.”
She waved me off, airy and haughty at the same time. “You can call me Elise.” She sipped her claret and set the crystal glass back on the table. “Forgive me. You just look a little too delicate for investigative work.”
I smiled. “Not all private investigators are old, lascivious drunk males.”
The waiter delivered my drink and was gone within a blink of an eye.
“Well, here’s to young, lascivious drunk females then.” She tipped her glass and downed her drink before setting it on the table. Then she tapped a red fingernail on the file before sliding it toward me.
I scanned the room wondering why she was so comfortable with a public display of interest in my services, but I didn’t ask questions. Instead, I discretely scanned the file, and studied the photograph of the gangly teenager who looked like his worst nightmare was the discovery of one more zit.
“How long has he been gone?”
She sighed. “Two years.”
I scowled. “Ms Garner . . . Elise. Can you please explain what this case is about? Was he taken? Did he run away?”
“He ran.”
I sat back.
“No. Please. You don’t understand. It’s a little more complicated than just your average runaway.”
“How do you mean?”
She sounded so sure of her words and yet what would make her position any different from the dozens of other parents of missing children.
Maybe just her arrogance, said a little voice in my head.
“Well . . . Erik . . . he thinks he has magical abilities.” She pursed her lips, her expression almost one of disgust.
I froze, ice trailing down my spine as I scanned the room a second time, hoping this wasn’t some kind of trap for the hapless teleporter.
Nobody came swooping down on me, no cuffs clamped around my wrists.
“Did he leave of his own volition?”
She nodded. “He had this stupid idea that he was going to do something to save the world.” She snorted, reached for her glass and made a face when she realized she’d already drained it.
“And you want me to find him and stop him?”
She nodded. “Unfortunately we can’t erase the damage he’s already done,” she waved at the nearest waiter for another round, “but we can stop any future rash behavior on his part.”
I suppressed a sigh. “What exactly is he guilty of?”
More importantly, I wanted to know why this woman was chasing after a boy who was quite likely old enough to live on his own by now. The file had said he was sixteen, and now, two years later, he’d be an adult.
She gave a short tinkling laugh that hurt my ears. “Of trying to be a freaking superhero. You have to help me stop him.”
I shook my head. “A superhero? What exactly is this power?” I paused and straightened. “The power that he claims to have.”
She didn’t seem to notice, her eyes focused on the glass of claret being placed in front of her. “He believes he can walk through solid matter. And see through solid matter.” She laughed, the sound cold, bitter and angry.
“I can see how that might pose a problem. If his powers were real.” I gave her a questioning glance, sipped the fizzing water, then smiled innocently.
She laughed again, shaking her head at me. “The thing is, the stuff he’s being accused of doing . . . it’s looking like he does have some kind of weird ability.”
“What is he doing with his power?”
Waiting in the shadows to assassinate you? I was tempted to say.
“He’s stealing my money.”
Chapter 4
Elise Garner had been more than generous.
She’d booked me into a suite in the very grand hotel, though she never asked if I was staying.
She just gave the maitre’d a tiny wave with her scarlet manicured fingers and he glided over with a keycard in his hand.
“You will consider the case?” she asked, handing me the file as well as a flash drive.
I nodded.
It appeared I had little choice but to nod.
Despite the fact that I felt her interest was a little too much on the monetary side.
I could decline and leave, but I preferred not to make an enemy of a woman like Elise Garner. I still had no idea how important she was, but I had already gotten the hint that she was powerful—most paranormals lived in the shadow of the human world, and often spent more time running and hiding from non-supernaturals than they did playing the stock-market and watching the daily news.
Besides, I was curious enough already to at least go over the file before I declined. So far, all I’d seen was a family falling apart and a mother failing to accept her son’s differing needs.
I drained my fizzy water and got to my feet. With a smile, I grabbed the file and the keycard, and slipped the flash-drive into my jacket pocket. “I’ll consider your proposal and get back to you in the morning.”
“I’ll meet you for breakfast in your suite. If you are still there, I’ll know you’ll take the case.” She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
With a single nod, I turned on my heel and strode out of the restaurant. The buzz of multiple conversations had begun to irritate me, resulting in a low, heavy throb at the back of my neck.
Or, that could just be my silent partner.
I shook my head and headed to the bank of glass boxes that posed as elevators. A uniformed bellhop waited, a tiny Asian girl with blonde hair and a toothy smile—I indulged in a bout of envy at how well she pulled the color off. I’d tried twice and had sworn never to do it again.
With white hair I just looked demonic.
The bellhop—Mai, according to her name-tag—tipped her head at me and smiled. “What floor, ma’am?”
I waved the keycard at her, revealing the number 3608. She smiled and pressed the button to open the glass doors. Inside, she stabbed the button for the top floor and my eyes widened.
Penthouse, no less.
I was officially impressed.
As the elevator rose, the silence closed in, conspicuous in the confined space. And I noticed again the absence of my evil companion, the ease with which I walked, and breathed. Knowing the only thing I had on me capable of fending it off was Natasha’s African token—which I couldn’t be sure even worked anymore—I scanned the glass walls of the elevator for magical wards.
Nothing but a few bright red Asian characters—probably Chinese, but my skills were minimal when it came to Asian script—marked each corner of the doorway.
I pointed at them, giving Mai-the-bellhop a small smile, “What are those?”
She nodded slowly, and then flashed bright white teeth as she responded in an impeccable British accent. “In Chinese culture it is always good to protect one’s home. Our magic men and old folk will often mark the entrances of a place of abode with signs meant to ward off evil.”
I smiled, realizing too late that I probably looked too interested, or too convinced. If not both.
“So it keeps away the ghosts?” I asked, trying to appear flippant.
Mai nodded, her own expression now serious. “And evil spirits and witchcraft curses.”
I pasted on a bright smile, “That’s pretty cool,” and was saved from further small talk when the elevator pinged our arrival.
Leaving the glass box with
a small wave at my helper, I entered the hallway. My heels immediately sank into the deep pile as I headed to my door.
Judging by the number of doors leading off the long wide hallway, only eight suites occupied the top floor.
Garner was definitely using one of them, what with her name on the building itself and all. I didn’t care though, even if there was a distinct possibility that she could be watching me.
For all I knew my suite was filled with cameras.
But I didn’t have anything to hide. I swiped the card through the electronic reader, entered the room and paused in the hall. Because, well, there was a hall, a tan leather lounge suite to my left, a twelve-seater dining table to my right, and a second, less formal living area straight ahead.
Plush. Luxury. Silken. Gilded.
Nice.
I took a deep breath and dropped my satchel on the glossy redwood dining table. Then I dialed room-service and ordered up some food.
As I rang Steph, I drew the little black mini hard-drive from my pocket and studied it.
“Hey, traveler.” Steph’s smile could be heard in her voice.
“Hi,” I stuck a hand into the bag and rummaged around for the cable I needed, “I have a case.”
“Boy, do I love those four little words.”
“Not as if you don’t have anything else to do.” I smiled back as I connected the cable to my cell phone and attached the flash drive to the housing on the other end.
“Meh. School’s boring.”
“Steph. You’re eighteen and your major is biomechanics. But you’re a hacker. Of course, school will be boring.”
She laughed. “No. It’s boring ‘cos the work is too easy. I could have completed the course last year.”
“So? Why didn’t you?”
I was acceptably stunned. Steph didn’t usually talk about her smarts. The way she behaved, I’d always thought she was embarrassed by her intelligence.
“Twelve months ago, I couldn’t afford to do two years’ worth of papers in a single year.”
“And now you can.” I felt a thrill of satisfaction for Steph.
“Yes, I can. So I’ll finish this year, thank goodness.” I heard a loud snap and recognized Steph’s signature gum-chewing habit. “Now . . . what’s the deal?”