“I’ll remain out here for now but call any of us in if you need us.”
“Thank you, Andre.” When Becka opened the front door to go inside, her backpack slid off her shoulder, hitting the ground with a loud thump.
Andre bent down to grab it. “I take that back, you’re more tired than I thought.” He held out the bag to Becka through the doorway. She took it, but when she tried to pull it in through the door, the bag slid out of her hand again, hitting the concrete below a second later.
She and Andre exchanged a tense look.
“You have anything in there that the Blackthorn protections would refuse to let pass?” Andre asked.
“Good question, and I wouldn’t think so, but…” Becka shrugged.
Andre pulled a pair of gloves out of his jacket and slid them on. Then he took the backpack and opened it up, going through pockets one by one. “You do like your spicy sauce.”
Reminded of the pills Nikkita had given her, she pulled the container out of her bag and downed two, hoping that plus sleep would wash away her pounding headache.
“It would be comic if hot sauce set off the protection wards,” Becka replied.
When he pulled a small figure woven of ivy and yew out of one of her side pockets, Becka gasped. The aching in her head throbbed anew, and suddenly Becka thought she knew how Mimir had projected herself into the car with her.
“This yours?” Andre asked.
Argh. No wonder her head wouldn’t stop hurting. “No, and I’m pretty sure the Shadow-Dwellers had this totem planted on me. The magic rolling off of it is giving me one hell of a headache.”
“You have any idea when it happened?” he asked, turning it over and over.
“The headache began when I was at the library with Caeda, and I blamed it on other magic in the vicinity.” Then it hit her. “You know, we passed through a crowd on the way into the library.”
He nodded. “Someone could have dropped it in there as they bumped up against you. It wouldn’t have stood out.”
“Right, so I wouldn’t have paid attention to them in particular.” Becka thought about all the people who had been around her the past couple of days and shuddered. What else could they have planted on her if they’d been so inclined? “I’ll need to be more aware.”
Andre cocked his head to the side. “That’s an understatement.”
He set the woven figure aside and went through the rest of her bag, but found nothing else amiss. He handed her the backpack and put the item in an evidence bag, tucking it into one of his jacket pockets. “Good thing it doesn’t bother me. When Caeda arrives, I’ll head downtown to the bureau and log it into evidence.”
“Thanks again, Andre,” she replied, grateful for his aid.
A few minutes later Becka was in her room, light off, kicking her shoes to the floor. Hopefully, a nap would help dispel the remainder of her headache, which was already fading thanks to Andre discovering Mimir’s totem stashed inside her bag.
As she curled up on the pillow, Becka breathed deep, smelling Quinn’s cedarwood soap on her linens. The memory of him in her bed beside her last night curled her toes.
Quinn… she needed to call him and tell him everything. But she was so exhausted. Surely an hour or two wouldn’t matter?
Also, Becka wasn’t relishing recounting her conversation with Mimir to Quinn, especially after the threats Mimir had issued or her talk about Becka’s role in some secret Shadow-Dweller prophecy. Or the possibility that, in getting closer to catching Mimir, that more of her friends and family could be at risk.
Especially since it might not have happened had Becka not sent Caeda off on her own. She’d promised Quinn she wouldn’t lie to him, and she hadn’t. At least not yet. Not again.
Sleep pulled at her, stripping her from reason and clarity. Becka would call him as soon as she woke up, when she could be clear about the details. First thing. Definitely first thing.
Chapter 14
Becka’s phone rang, jolting her out of a blissful sleep. Dreams of Quinn lingered, the feel of his muscular arms wrapped around her, the abrasion of his chin’s stubble rasping against her neck.
Another ring, and Becka shook herself awake. “Hello?”
“Have I reached Ms. Becka Rowan?” came a stiff voice over the line.
“This is she.”
“You’re late for the magical remediation commission. We need you down at the landmark site right away.”
Becka shot up from the bed, searching for her shoes. “I thought you’d contact me before the job?”
The man harrumphed. “The duty is on you, Ms. Rowan, to be aware of the jobs your family has contracted.”
Why hadn’t Maura mentioned the date? No matter, she could figure that out later. “What’s the address?”
He sighed dramatically. “We’re at Sculpture Park at the corner of Speer and Champa. When can we expect you?”
“I’m on my way.” Becka hung up the phone. She threw on her shoes, grabbed her backpack, and rushed down the stairs.
Caeda emerged from the living room as Becka reached the first floor. “Where’s the fire, sleeping beauty?”
“I’m late for my first contract,” Becka replied. “Can you come with me?”
Caeda smiled. “Nowhere else I’d rather be, but I’m surprised you’re feeling up to it.”
Becka paused, checking in with her body. “Yeah, I am. My headache is gone, thank the gods.” And thank Andre for finding Mimir’s totem.
“Great. Then let’s get going,” Caeda replied.
In short order they were speeding downtown. Becka couldn’t help herself from glancing nervously towards the back seat, half-expecting Mimir to appear again. For a moment she considered discussing what had happened with Caeda, but then thought better of it.
Quinn should be the one she told about her conversation with Mimir.
“How are you late for your own house’s contract?” Caeda asked.
Becka groaned. “I can’t say my mother and I talk often. I don’t know, I must have missed a scroll.” Then she remembered where Caeda had been. “Hey, did your CI have anything on Saige?”
“Yeah, maybe. Jack swore he saw Saige arguing in an alleyway with a fae magic dealer he knows. The dealer and Saige got into an argument and Saige punched him out.”
“That’s it?”
“So far,” Caeda replied. “I called it in. A couple of enforcers will go pick up the dealer and see what they know.”
“Well, that’s something at least.” If Saige was running around downtown, then she wasn’t a captive of Mimir. Perhaps Mimir’s comment about Saige was more of a general threat, versus a “we have her and are about to do something to her” threat.
Acid churned in her stomach. Assuming it had actually been Saige the CI had seen.
“I’ve got to ask; do you take that backpack everywhere?” Caeda asked.
“Pretty much, yes. It’s got the Shadow-Dweller journals and glyph text in there plus some of my own notebooks. I suppose it’s a habit from being a student at the institute that hasn’t worn off yet.”
“It feels almost like you’re carrying your life around with you. Is it because you’re not yet convinced that you can settle back into the townhome for a bit?” Caeda asked.
Caeda’s question rang true to Becka. Was she waiting on some sign that she was back for good before leaving things back at the townhome?
“Yeah, maybe,” Becka replied. “I haven’t even figured out how to juggle my jobs yet. I’m running from one to another all day long.”
“You’re right, I doubt things are apt to slow down anytime soon either. I suppose give it a little more time, then?”
Becka nodded, wondering just how long it would take her to feel like she was home again.
The car dropped them off at the corner of the park and they made their way over to a grassy area near the center cordoned off for construction equipment. A small crane was poised above a statue with several taut ropes supporting its wei
ght. A couple of workers stood pointing up at a statue in the shape of a man. It was perched at an angle to its pedestal base, which appeared to have suffered an impact from a heavy object, exposing various layers of tile, brick, and concrete. Two spars of rebar had remained connected yet precariously aligned, which explained the crane.
A man in a hardhat and safety jacket approached them, his expression wary. “Enforcers,” he nodded at them, “I’m James Miller, and I’m the manager on site. I can assure you all is in order at our job site.” He was dressed like a supervisor with heavy boots and work pants, but his perfectly groomed hair, mustache, and slender build had the feel of a paper pusher, not someone who did the heavy lifting in construction all day long.
Becka glanced at Caeda, who motioned for her to take the lead. “I’m Becka Rowan, and although I’m working with the enforcers, I’m here on behalf of a contract the city has with House Rowan.”
“Oh, well, you can see how I’d get confused.” He planted his hands on his hips. “You late because of some enforcer business?”
She could have said yes, but it wasn’t, really. Also, Becka didn’t want to give the impression she was throwing her influence around, especially not knowing how often she’d be called on to work with this man again. “No, more because of a miscommunication.”
“Then you know I’m within my rights to dock the contract for the delay?”
Becka held up her hands. “Whatever you feel is appropriate. Want to show me the job?”
“This way,” he said, and they followed him.
Caeda elbowed Becka. “So serious,” she whispered for Becka’s ears only.
Becka smiled back at her and nodded. When she turned back towards the statue, it took Becka a moment to process the figure standing there awaiting her arrival.
Hanna stood wrapped in a resplendently embroidered garnet silk robe over a blush dress which hung to the ground. Her wavy hair was loose and trailing down her back, her pale golden eyes trained on Becka’s approach. The pale color of her lips did nothing to counter her wan appearance, making it look like all the color had drained out of her.
“Have you met Lady Hawthorne?” James asked.
If he meant “did I land in her lap and utterly destroy her powers a couple months ago,” then yes. By the look of her, Hanna hadn’t yet recuperated fully from the incident. A fist of guilt hit her right in the solar plexus, which Becka happily endured. It was the least she could do, after all.
“Yes. Hello. This is Enforcer Caeda Poplar,” Becka said.
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Caeda replied.
“That remains to be seen.” Hanna’s voice was strained, and Becka assumed the venom in her gaze was for her alone, considering the harm she’d done to Hanna. “Need I remind you, Lady Rowan, that as part of your house’s agreement on reparations with House Hawthorne I am here to oversee your work? If you harm any in the course of your efforts, I am duty bound to report.”
If Hanna was trying to embarrass Becka, it would not work. Becka wasn’t even dealing with other fae during this contract, just a heap of rock. How could anyone get hurt?
“I welcome your presence, Lady Hawthorne.” And I will show you I can control myself.
Her gaze traveled the length of Becka, her dour expression no doubt meaning she had found her wanting. “You have a new pair of gloves, I see.”
Becka fought the desire to wring her hands. “Enforcer-issued.”
Hanna arched a brow. “Hmm.”
When she said nothing else, Becka turned to James. “Can you explain what you need done?”
James looked back and forth between the two of them, seeming aware there was more going on. “You see something knocked into the plinth base of the monument here,” he pointed to one side, “breaking it apart and almost knocking off the statue. As you can see, we’ve got the statue supported with the crane, but we could not free it because of the combination of magics binding it into place.”
Becka looked up into the face of the maligned statue, which was clearly meant to appear much more valiant and triumphant than it did in this moment. “Whom does this monument commemorate?
James frowned. “Why, General Hugh Hurley, of course.”
“Right, the general who held the line against fae-touched forces during the ending battles. Wasn’t his battle strategy credited with bringing about the end of the Great War?”
“Yes, in part.” James nodded. “Although there were a few others who shared that honor, we credit General Hurley with breaking his foes’ will.”
After what she’d witnessed viewing the tome dedicated to the Great War earlier, Becka questioned if the commonly known history was altogether accurate.
“Do you know why magic was used?”
“Well, to protect it against those who might deface Hurley’s monument, of course,” James said.
Becka walked around, taking a better look at the shattered area on the base. “And yet the magic didn’t prevent this?”
James shrugged. “It must have degraded. My understanding is they have added the protections over the years.”
Becka looked at the grass. “What do you think hit it? A car?”
“I don’t think so,” Caeda replied, pointing at the ground. “There would be marks on the grass.”
“Respectfully,” James interrupted them. “We don’t need an investigation, just the magic removed.”
“Right, sorry,” Becka replied. “How much do you need removed?”
“My thought is all of it. I’ve got a design for a new base to pour on this location, and then we’ll seat the statue on top later. But first, this all has to go, and we can’t tear it down because the magic won’t let us.”
“But don’t you think it’s weird how it was damaged, yet you can’t tear it the rest of the way down?” Caeda asked, tapping her index finger against the end of her nose.
“Not really. I just assume some magic failed while other parts remained intact,” James replied, and then turned back to Becka. “We’ve seen it before and usually we just have you fae build new layers up and cover over the old magic. Then we heard you might ‘Null’ the old stuff out. Can you?”
“Most likely, yes.” Becka looked at them. “I don’t need to worry about damaging the remaining structure?”
“Heck no, you can level it, as long as the statue remains undamaged,” James replied.
That was one less thing to worry about, at least. “Can you all stand back a little further?” Becka asked.
They obliged her, and she set her backpack on the ground next to Caeda. Even the workers standing over by the crane backed up a couple steps. Becka walked around the plinth, getting a sense of the magic within. Anxious because Hanna was there witnessing her work, Becka feared something might go awry.
But… what? Becka shook her head. No need to work herself up. There was no magical tome here revealing a mystery. There was no Mimir to throw down the gauntlet.
It was just a block of layered concrete, and rocks covered in marble tiles. Even if she pulverized it, James the manager had said he wouldn’t mind.
Becka took off her gloves and tucked them into her pocket, and then reached out with her hands, touching the plinth next to the area which had been destroyed. Letting her gift loose, Becka allowed her Null magic to reach out into the amalgam of layers. She sensed layers of resistance, magic wrought over magic, entwined, and woven to hold the structure together against the ravages of time.
Becka walked the perimeter, her head throbbing dully as the magic melted away under her touch. When she’d completed a circuit, Becka closed her eyes and sent her awareness deep within the concrete and stone, seeking the remaining traces of magic. When there was nothing left, she opened her eyes, stepped back, and took a deep breath.
She looked up at the statue, still hanging askew in the air.
Becka looked up to meet James’ expectant gaze. “There you go.”
He cocked his head to the side. “That’s it?”
“Yup.”
Becka walked back over to Caeda, shooting a glowering Hanna a smile along the way.
James motioned one of his workers over. When they arrived, he said, “Give it a go again, will you?”
“Sure, boss,” the man said. He retrieved a sledgehammer and walked over to the monument base. He planted his feet, set his shoulders, and then let it swing. When the hammer hit, the structure crumbled under the impact.
“Yeah!” James hollered. He pointed a finger at Becka. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. C’mon y’all, get to work!”
The workers obliged, and soon huge chunks of the plinth were shearing off and falling to the ground.
Caeda leaned closer, handing Becka back her bag. “You worried for nothing,” she whispered.
“Eh, it’s good to be cautious,” Becka whispered back.
Just then a sizable chunk of the monument broke off, freeing the base of the statue. The statue swung in the air and they all ducked as it flew by overhead, but the workers held it secure by ropes to the crane above.
When Caeda pulled on her sleeve, Becka felt anxiety creep into her chest. “What?”
Caeda pointed at a section of newly exposed base showing an ornate tile pattern. Becka couldn’t help herself, stepping forward to see it better through the dust being kicked up by the workers.
“Hold on,” she said, causing a nearby worker to pause their destruction. She got close and wiped off the newly exposed fresco done in gorgeous blues and greens, with a bright yellow inlay for the words.
JOIN US
Becka gasped and took a few steps back, nearly running into Hanna, who’d followed close on her heels.
“What is it?” Hanna asked. “Join us?” She turned to Becka. “What does it mean?”
“How would I know?” Becka snapped back. The message was eerily similar to Mimir’s FIND ME messages and mirrored Mimir’s request during their conversation in the car. But surely that was madness? This fresco was old. Wasn’t it? “That’s got to be fairly old. Right, James?”
Shadow Underground: A Romantic Urban Fantasy Murder Mystery (The Shadow Series Book 3) Page 12