He planned to leave again. “Where will you go?” Why did I ask that?
The werewolf shrugged. “Home.”
“Where is home?”
“Not here.”
It was like a stab to the heart. Atlanta used to be his home. Kate, Curran, and Conlan were still here. I was… Right. I wasn’t.
I recognized the look in his eyes. Derek had locked onto a target. It would be impossible to avoid him. I had exhausted all of my emotional reserves trying to shove him out of my orbit. He was powerful. He was an asset. We would help each other, and then he would leave.
“Jasper was the self-proclaimed king of the Honeycomb,” I told him. “A little girl, a street kid, witnessed Pastor Haywood getting into a car with a fatso who took him to identify the artifact. Someone hired Jasper to find her, so he got two of his flunkies and crawled out into the city. I got to the girl first. When Jasper couldn’t find her, he caught one of the other street kids instead. The child wouldn’t tell him anything about the girl or me, so Jasper and his two assholes beat him to within an inch of his life.”
Derek’s hackles rose.
“Jasper had an iron hound and tracked me to St. Luke’s Cathedral. When I came across the three of them, they were dragging the boy on a chain with him. He was black and blue. He couldn’t stand. They broke his leg. They snapped his arm. They shattered his ribs…”
My voice was about to quiver. No. Not happening. I scrambled to maintain some semblance of control. Derek took a step forward.
A bullet dug into the concrete inches from my foot. I threw myself left and ducked behind a wall.
Derek swore and jumped over the edge.
I studied the two people Derek dropped on the concrete. He’d come up the stairs, carrying them by the back of their pants and dumped them in front of me. They seemed slightly rumpled, but their guts were still inside their bodies, which was a huge plus.
The younger one had short chestnut hair and bronze skin and was probably a young girl in her mid-teens dressed in oversized men’s clothes. The older one, about my age, had lighter skin, dark hair, a dark beard, and the kind of look in his eyes that told me he expected to be beaten and had come to terms with it.
“You sent a hodag after us.”
The man spread his arms. “You cut the cable three times. Honestly lady, what do you have against us? Do you cut other people’s phone lines or is it just ours?”
“Just yours.”
He leaned back. “What did we ever do to you? I don’t know you.” He turned to the girl. “Do you know her?”
The girl shook her head.
He turned back to me. “See? We don’t know you. We need that line to survive. We need food, we need clothes, we need ammo, and backyard gardening only gets you so far.”
“Gardening, huh?”
“Yes. We grow things, tomatoes, cucumbers. We’re peaceful folks. We mind our own business.”
I pointed at the hodag’s head. “To grow a hodag to that size, you have to feed it human meat.”
The girl looked freaked out.
Surprise flashed in the man’s eyes, but he recovered quickly. “So, he ate a few corpses. They would have rotted anyway. It’s a circle-of-life thing, lady.”
Uh huh. Circle of life. “What’s your name?”
“Don’t tell her, Cephus,” the girl whispered and clamped her hand over her mouth.
Cephus just looked at her for a second.
“I want to know about Jasper,” I said.
“We don’t know Jasper,” Cephus said.
Derek loomed above him. “Answer her or I’ll put your head in my mouth.”
Cephus swallowed. “Oh Jasper? That Jasper. Yeah, okay. We do know Jasper. What about him?”
“Yesterday he took two of you and left to do a job. I need to know who hired him.”
Cephus spread his arms to the sky. “Who knows? Jasper isn’t the sharing type. He isn’t exactly beloved. He had a hard childhood. The man has trouble processing his feelings, so when he has them, they make him angry. And when he gets angry, he lashes out.”
“The last time I lashed out, Jasper lost his head. It’s sitting on a metal tray in the Order’s morgue.”
The girl clutched onto Cephus. He put his arm around her and rearranged his expression, looking hurt. “No need for threats. We’re all friends here. The phone line is for everyone’s use. You pay into the jar per phone call. Sometimes money goes to buy medicine. Sometimes Jasper takes it. He has poor leadership skills. I don’t know who hired Jasper. I do know some people he worked with.”
“Give me some names.”
He looked at the sky. “Christi Constanza, Dallas Karen, Bambi Nolastname, Mark Rudolph, Felix Goswin…”
“Okay,” I told him. “You can go.”
Cephus eyed me, glanced at Derek over his shoulder, looked at me again, grabbed the girl’s hand, and took off. We heard them stomping down the stairs all the way to the bottom.
“They’re really broken up about Jasper,” Derek said. “I can feel their grief.”
“You heard them. The man had trouble processing his feelings. Probably kept most people at a distance. Never formed strong bonds with his peers. His inner core wasn’t vibrating in tune to the celestial heartbeat.”
A gust of wind tore at my hair. The world turned dark. The storm was almost on top of us.
“How is the boy?” the massive werewolf next to me asked.
“I don’t know. They told me he is hanging in there. I saw him this morning. He looked like he was dying.” I really had to shut up.
“The offer of a good medmage still stands.”
“Thank you. If it’s possible, the Methodists will heal him. It bothers me. There are at least thirty minutes between White Street and St. Luke’s. They dragged a boy on a chain, and nobody fucking did anything about it. Why? Did the city go blind?”
“The city was always blind,” he said, his voice hard. “People don’t want to get involved. As long as it doesn’t touch them, they can pretend it’s not happening.”
People knew about his family and didn’t help. People saw me in the streets every day and didn’t help either.
We stood next to each other. The wind pulled at his fur.
“What happens when we find Pastor Haywood’s killer?” I asked.
“I’ll rip his heart out.”
It wasn’t a turn of phrase. He meant it.
“It won’t bring him back,” Derek continued. “It probably won’t make me feel better. But it must be done.”
“This is nasty and complicated,” I told him.
“My favorite.”
“There is an avatar involved.”
“I’ve met a few gods.”
“Not like this one. If I tell you to sit a fight out, will you do it?”
“Sure.”
Too easy. Sitting anything out wasn’t in his nature. “Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” I held my hand out. “Aurelia Ryder.”
Clawed fingers swallowed my hand. “Darren Argent.”
It sounded familiar. “Argent” meant silver. Many shapeshifters took new names when joining a new pack, and I knew several who chose “Argent” as a last name. Silver killed Lyc-V, the virus responsible for their existence, and they considered the name ironic. Not a name I would expect him to pick for himself.
Then again, “Aurelia” meant gold, and I chose it without considering its meaning. I wanted a name that reminded me of Julie, so one day I just looked at a list of Roman names and picked one that sounded pretty. Maybe I was reading too much into it.
We shook and let go.
“So, which of the four names Cephus mentioned rang a bell?” he asked.
“Mark Rudolph. He’s on the list of relic hunters Bishop Chao gave me.”
“Then we should pay him a visit.”
“Yes, we should. I’ll head down to the street,” I told him.
“Don’t want to stay and w
atch me change?” There was a hint of humor in his inhuman voice.
“No.”
“What if something attacks me while I’m getting dressed?”
I looked at the hodag head and then back at him. “Throw the head at them and scream for help. I’ll see you downstairs.”
I limped out of the building and whistled for Tulip.
Someone had turned the muscles of my legs into wet cotton. I had expended way too much energy dodging the hodag, and now my freshly regenerated body was making me pay for it. My thigh hurt like hell.
A wind gust hit me, tearing at my hair. Thunder rocked the world, the clouds broke open and rain drenched me, warm and heavy. I raised my arms, closed my eyes, and let it wash over me, wishing all my troubles would drain away with the water.
I could’ve stood under the rain forever.
The sound of Tulip’s hooves drew close and stopped.
According to his address, Mark Rudolph had done quite well for himself. He lived all the way in Mt. Paran-Northside, an affluent neighborhood with ten-thousand-square-foot mansions and home prices in the millions. If things had stayed the same since I left, that neighborhood was protected better than the White House. They hired off-duty PAD officers to patrol it and had their own private security force manning the perimeter wall and towers. Trying to get to the northern edge of Buckhead from here and then gain entry in this deluge was all but impossible.
I had to go home and try tomorrow.
At least I had a lead. My first real lead.
I opened my eyes. A fully human Derek stood right in front of me. His eyes were aglow, and he looked at me as if I were the thing he wanted most in the entire world.
I turned away from him and mounted. “The rain is too heavy. I’m going home.”
“Tomorrow then.”
“Tomorrow.” I gave him my phone number. “Call me if anything serious happens.”
As I rode away, he was still standing in the rain, watching me. Then I blinked, and he was gone.
13
Marten waved at me from my couch.
I paused with my keys in my hand. I had put up Tulip, walked in, and there she was. If it weren’t for her expression, I wouldn’t have recognized her. The layer of grime covering her face and hair was gone, revealing a cute seven year old with big eyes and delicate features. Shoulder-length, copper brown hair fell in soft ringlets around her adorable tan face. But her eyes were exactly the same, a light golden hazel full of mischief.
How did people keep finding me? I spent all this time and money making a secret hideout and literally everyone I’ve met in the last two days now knew where it was.
Marten grinned at me. “I found you.”
“I see that. Where is Sophia?”
Marten giggled.
“You didn’t lead her into quicksand and leave her trapped somewhere, did you?”
She shook her head. “She had homework. I executed an evasive maneuver.”
Right. How in the world had she snuck out past a shapeshifter? They could hear a fly buzz two hundred yards away. “How did you know where I live?”
“I’m smart.”
She was not going to answer. As soon as the magic came back, I’d scan her.
I shut the door. It was raining cats and dogs, and by now Sophia was probably going out of her mind.
I pulled off my boots and took my dripping self to the kitchen. Here’s hoping Barabas still had the same number.
Sophia picked up on the first ring. “Gilliam residence. How may I help you?”
“Have you misplaced a small child?”
“Ms. Ryder, I’m so, so sorry. I left her playing video games for twenty minutes and she was gone. I tried to track her, but the rain is too heavy.”
“So she bolted just before the rain started?”
“Yes.”
It would take at least thirty minutes for a normal human child to get to my house from Kate and Curran’s “gated community.” Marten’s hair was dry.
“I’ll come and get her right away,” Sophia promised.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s flooding, so you can get her when the rain stops.”
“Thank you.”
I gave her directions and hung up.
Marten slunk into the kitchen and climbed onto a chair. “I saw a boy here.”
Don’t tell me. “What did he look like?”
“He was pretty. He had dark hair and big grey eyes.”
Conlan.
“Was he in the house or outside of it?”
“Outside.”
Oh good. The rain would’ve washed away his scent trail by now. “Did you talk to the pretty boy?”
Marten nodded. “Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He said to tell you that Grandma called the house.”
What did that mean? “Was there anything else?”
“That was it.”
There had to be more to it. Erra called to talk to Kate as often as I did, usually through the fire, because phones rarely worked for her. Conlan must’ve decided Marten wasn’t completely trustworthy. I was somehow supposed to infer some deeper meaning from “Grandma called.”
Marten pulled her knees up to her chest on the chair. “Can I stay with you until the rain stops?”
“Of course. Are you hungry?”
She nodded.
My phone rang. Probably Barabas or Christopher.
“Hold that thought.” I picked it up.
“You haven’t spoken to your grandmother in six days,” my uncle said.
How did Hugh get my number? He wasn’t even in the same state. “Does everybody know where I live?”
“Everybody who cares about your safety. Do you know how I know that it’s been six days? Ask me.”
Oy. “How do you know?”
“I’m so glad you asked. Your grandmother mentioned it to me five times in the last forty-eight hours. She called me twice through the fire and three times on the phone. Hold on a second. PUT DOWN THAT COW!”
I held the phone away from my ear.
“Sorry about that.”
“How did she call you? Phones don’t work for her.”
“Apparently, someone dials the number for her, and she stands across the room and screams at it. Your grandmother has no trouble making herself heard. Boy! Yes, I’m talking to you. What did I say?”
I shook my head trying to get the ringing to stop. The two of them could roar loud enough to be heard all the way across a battlefield. I’ve heard them do it.
“You seem pretty busy, Uncle.”
“Call your grandmother. She’s worried about you, and she’ll keep calling me until she hears from you. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to come to Atlanta in person to verify that your arms and legs are still attached, and you have not lost the ability to speak. And we both know how much I enjoy visiting Atlanta.”
Oh gods. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll call her as soon as the magic is up.”
“Are you doing okay? Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine.”
“If you do need anything, you tell me. If you need backup, you tell me. I’ll come down and smash some heads for you.”
Aww. “Thank you.”
“Gotta go. OR WHAT? I WILL SHOW YOU WHAT. YOU’RE ABOUT TO FIND OUT, AND YOU WILL TELL YOUR MOTHER THAT YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF.”
I hung up.
“Was that your daddy?” Marten asked.
“No, that was my uncle. Cu… My dad doesn’t yell. He mostly roars.”
“My daddy is nice.”
I thought she was an orphan.
She smiled. “He brings me treats and presents. But he can’t be with me right now.”
What kind of father let his daughter live on the street? I got this really sick feeling. “What does he do when he sees you?”
“He tells me stories, and he does magic tricks.”
“Does he ever touch you anywhere?”
Marten scrunched her face at me.
“He gives me hugs. He’s not a creep.”
Creep was street slang for child molester. For a seven year old, Marten was really sharp.
“What happened to your mommy?”
“I killed her,” Marten said. “When I was born.”
“Would you like a hug?” I held out my arms. “It’s okay if you don’t.”
“I want a hug.” She slid off the chair and hugged me.
I patted her hair. “You didn’t kill her. Sometimes things like that just happen.”
She snuggled closer.
“Let me make another phone call and we’ll cook dinner.”
Marten gave my kitchen a suspicious look. “I looked in your fridge and there was nothing there.”
“I have a secret fridge.”
Her eyes lit up.
I picked up the phone. It was half an hour before five. I bet that Stella was still in the office, and I was right.
“I thought you were coming by. What happened?”
“A hodag.”
“In Atlanta? Are you shitting me?”
“Nope. Big one too.”
“Do you need me to bring you some lemons?”
“No, I’m good. Could you check on a name for me?”
She sighed. “What am I, your secretary?”
“I’ll owe you one.”
“Fine, fine. What’s the name?”
“Darren Argent.”
“Sounds odd enough. At least it’s not John Smith. Who is he?”
“Someone I ran into.”
“Okay. I’ll check it out.”
I said thank you and hung up.
Marten jumped up and down. “Secret fridge?”
“Secret fridge.”
The rain stopped at about nine, and fifteen minutes till ten someone knocked on my door and then rang the bell.
Marten looked up from her spot on the divan. She had eaten an entire steak by herself and two helpings of roasted potatoes. I still couldn’t figure out where it all went. Afterward she settled on the plush cushions. I gave her a book with illustrations of dinosaurs, which didn’t seem to hold her interest. Next was a book about cats, then dogs, and finally we settled on the Encyclopedia of the Ancient World. It had tons of pictures, and she sank right into it.
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