Gathering Storm: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 17)

by R. L. King

  “Your business is your own, Alastair, and no, I had not heard. Where is the boy now?”

  “Who knows? I think he’s still in Prague. He’s met a group of mages over there who seem more interested in the local nightlife than rigorous study.”

  “And you approve of this?”

  “It’s not my place to approve or disapprove.”

  “He is your son.”

  Stone waved that off. “Let’s not get into that, Stefan. I suspect you and I have very different approaches to dealing with offspring, and debating their relative merits won’t get us anywhere. The point is, Ian’s an adult now. He can do what he likes, and frankly, after the life he’s had, I don’t begrudge him some time to have a bit of fun and discover what he truly wants. But he’s told me he wants to study magic, and I’ve promised to try to find him a teacher he can deal with—and more importantly, who can handle his power level and his unique situation.”

  Kolinsky took another sip of wine. “Are you asking me to train the boy?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never heard you mention an apprentice, aside from the work you did with Zack Beeler—but he hardly counts in this regard. And to be honest, I’m not sure you and Ian would get on. No offense, but you might be a bit…old-school for him, especially after what he’s already experienced.”

  “None taken. I suspect you might be correct—although I will admit to being intrigued. I am aware of your power level, and if you are impressed by the boy’s potential…”

  “Potential,” Stone reiterated. “But as my friend Jason pointed out to me, just as some students with amazing academic potential don’t ultimately live up to it, it’s entirely possible that Ian’s situation has affected him to the point where he won’t have any desire to put in the work required to truly excel.”

  “This disappoints you.” It wasn’t a question. Kolinsky was watching him now with shrewd intensity.

  He sighed again, tossing his napkin on his empty plate. “I don’t know, Stefan. I suppose it does to an extent—a couple of months ago, I had no idea I even had a son, and then he turns up with all this power…of course I want to see him achieve what he’s capable of. But I can’t force him to do it. I wouldn’t want to. And even if I did try it, I’d be more likely to drive him completely away from magic, or send him off to seek training on his own, which is dangerous for a number of reasons. So at present, I’ve got to be content to let him explore and hope he’ll at least let me offer him advice.” He flicked his gaze up. “Do you have children, Stefan?” It occurred to him that he still had no idea exactly how old Kolinsky was.

  “I do.”

  The frank answer was unexpected. “Did you go through this with them?”

  Kolinsky chuckled. “No. It was…many years ago, and circumstances were quite different. I am afraid I am not the best source of advice on such matters. But if you like, I will make a few discreet inquiries. Perhaps I can locate some candidates your son might find palatable.”

  “I’d appreciate it. I’ll owe you for that.”

  “Yes, you will. But let’s not speak of that until we determine if I am successful.”

  “Fair enough. To be honest, right now I’m more interested in any repeats of the Devil’s Creek situation. I don’t expect to see Ian for quite some time, and there’s no point trying to steer him toward study before he’s ready.”

  The check arrived, and he picked it up without pause. “Thank you, Stefan. I appreciate our conversation, as always.”

  “As do I.”

  As they left, Stone couldn’t help wondering whether he should have told Kolinsky about Ian. It didn’t matter now, though—the proverbial cat was out of the bag, and there was no putting it back in. He’d just have to deal with the consequences, if there were any.

  14

  Jason could have taken a plane to Reno—his fledgling agency had enough business now to allow for a coach-class ticket, even if he didn’t touch the rest of the money Stone had fronted him as part of his investment—but he liked to drive. Getting out on the open road and away from the Bay Area crowds helped him clear his head, something he could definitely stand to do now and then. He wished it had been in his red Mustang instead of the unassuming gray sedan he’d bought for company business, but even this thing could manage respectable speed when you opened it up on the freeway.

  He’d gotten good start, leaving late the morning after having dinner at Stone’s place. As promised, he’d left a message with Gina, asking her to hunt any other odd occurrences she could find around the country, with instructions to call Stone if she found anything interesting. He wondered what she’d think of the request, and whether she’d be able to find anything. Personally, Jason was convinced Stone was chasing ghosts—not even literally this time—and the weird situation he’d encountered in Iowa wouldn’t be repeated. Either that, or crazy things like that went on all the time in hidden corners of the country and this was the first time Stone had heard of one. In any case, he was glad Verity had assured him she didn’t plan to use the portals for travel any time soon. He’d never tell her, of course, but the thought of her routinely walking through that silent tunnel of fog, even without the Evil lurking around looking for snacks, terrified him. He supposed it was only because he didn’t understand it—that, and the only time he’d gone through himself, he and Stone had nearly been devoured—but either way, he had no intentions of letting either Stone or Verity take him through there again. He’d travel the old-fashioned way. Slower, but safer.

  As he continued up highway 80, his thoughts turned to the last time he’d driven this road, when he, Stone, Verity, and Verity’s girlfriend at the time had set out in a luxury RV on the way to Burning Man. He chuckled when he thought about what they’d actually arrived in—a Jeep SUV towing an ancient, rickety wooden horse trailer after the RV had broken down—but his amusement quickly evaporated when he remembered the level of death and destruction the Evil had caused with their attempt to summon a massive gateway to let them into this world after their own portals were destroyed. Dozens of people had been killed and hundreds more injured by fire, vehicles, magic, and even gunshots from the Evil’s soldiers.

  For a while, it hadn’t even been a certainty that Burning Man would ever happen again—aside from the massive liability issues, many of its attendees felt the tragedy had tainted the peaceful energy of the location. It had been cancelled the year following the event, but the year after that the organizers managed to regroup and get things rolling again. After everything went off as planned with no further unexpected happenings, the horrific events began, as all such things do, to pass into memory. Jason had heard from some friends who’d attended one of the later Burns that the organizers erected a memorial each year, burning it along with the Man to commemorate those who’d lost their lives.

  Occasionally he thought about trying to go again, but it never got past the “what if?” stage. He didn’t think Verity would be interested, and he was sure Stone would probably laugh at him if he suggested the mage come along. Maybe if he ever got himself a serious girlfriend, it might be fun.

  He watched the forest flash by and tried not to think about that. Lately, his love life was getting to be as spotty as Stone’s used to be before he and Verity got together. He thought he’d found someone down in Ventura when he’d met Kristen—he and the tall, blonde EMT had hit it off on their first meeting and seen each other for long enough Jason had begun to think about getting serious with her, but then had come the business with Verity healing the injured motorcyclist. Kristen couldn’t handle the idea of magic, and that had been the end of that. Jason knew Verity still didn’t believe him when he’d told her she was more important to him than any woman who couldn’t deal with the stranger aspects of his life, but it was true. When both your sister and your best friend spent the biggest part of their lives up to their necks in a world most people would never even see, it simply wasn’t practical to allow anyone that deeply into his life who couldn’t handle it. If that me
ant it took him a while to find someone, so be it. He was so busy with the agency he didn’t have time for a serious relationship anyway, and even though he’d been casually dating a paralegal from the law firm next door to his office, it hadn’t reached the point where they were seeing each other exclusively. He didn’t think it would, honestly—she was fun, but the two of them were too different for things to go beyond the casual.

  He’d moved on to thinking about his case when he pulled into Truckee. He hadn’t intended to stop—Truckee was only half an hour or so away from Reno—but the car was getting low on gas and he needed a pit stop anyway, so he figured he might as well break for lunch. That way, when he reached Reno he could find a place to stay, dump his stuff in the room, and get started tracking down the cheating husband. With any luck, he could find the guy, get the pictures of him pursuing his secret tryst, and be back at the office late tomorrow.

  Or maybe, a sudden thought popped into his head, you could take a little detour afterward and go down to Tahoe. That’s where Tony said he was…

  Damn it, no. He slammed the door closed and stalked into a sandwich shop, trying to push the thought out of his head before it took root. That way lay madness, or at least danger, and he knew it.

  It didn’t work, though. The thoughts persisted as he hit the restroom and then came back out to order a footlong sub and a big bottle of water, and when he found a table near the front window, he finally gave up and let them have their way with him. It wasn’t as if he was going to do anything about them.

  But he did have enough information to find Tony, if he made a little effort. He was sure of it. The man wasn’t exactly trying to hide, after all—he, Verity, and Stone had saved his life, breaking him out of Marciella Garra’s horrific laboratory where he was being drained of his blood to fuel her mad alchemical workings. Would it be such a bad thing to ask him if he’d be willing to—

  No. Get that right out of your mind. It wouldn’t matter anyway: even if he could manage to convince the bear shifter to share some of his blood with him—either out of sheer gratitude or for a price—Verity had already told him she wasn’t going to make the elixir again. She didn’t know how to do it herself yet, and her prickly friend Hezzie didn’t seem inclined to help. Jason didn’t know the reason for Hezzie’s dislike and distrust of men, but whatever it was, she’d made it clear to Verity that brewing potions to make them stronger, faster, and nearly impossible to damage wasn’t something she was in any hurry to do.

  So stop thinking about it, damn you. He ripped bites from his sandwich with a ferocity that startled the woman and two young children at the next table, and forced himself to calm down and flash them a reassuring grin. He didn’t have time for this—he had a job to do, and he needed to focus on that. Even though the agency had been doing well so far, he couldn’t count on that continuing if he slacked off. He was determined not to touch any of the remaining money from Stone; it was safely stashed away in the bank, and there it would remain, so he’d have to hustle if he wanted to keep things running with his own work.

  He finished the sandwich at a slightly more sedate pace, wadded the wrapper, and took the half-full water bottle with him. It was around two p.m.—if he left now, he could be in Reno before three, which would give him plenty of time to hunt down Mr. Cheater. He pulled out onto the road to make a left, edging around a parked car he couldn’t see past.

  The screech of brakes joined the squeal of tires as a silver SUV smashed into the left front side of the sedan, rocking it sideways. The airbag deployed, slammed Jason hard into his seat and then deflated, revealing steam wafting from beneath the crushed hood.

  “Fuck!” he snapped, glaring at the SUV. Why couldn’t people just pay attention when they drove? The damn idiot was probably on his phone, or messing with his radio, or—

  The door opened and a woman erupted from the SUV, hurrying over to the sedan’s driver side. “Oh, my God,” she said. “Damn it, I didn’t see you! Are you okay?”

  He took quick inventory before unhooking his seatbelt and scrambling free of the car. He’d probably have bruises and general aches from the airbag, but aside from that he didn’t think anything was broken or damaged. “What the hell?” he demanded, glaring at her. “Didn’t you see me coming?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I was going too fast.” She looked flustered, but not out of control. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” Jason smacked the sedan’s side and stalked around the front to view the damage. The left front tire was flat, the wheel cocked at a sideways angle, and the quarter panel and left side of the hood were both crumpled. He had no idea what was going on under the hood, but the steam didn’t promise a quick fix. He wasn’t getting to Reno any time soon, at least not in this car. Even more frustrating, the SUV didn’t show nearly the same amount of damage: a heavy winch on the front had protected it from most of the impact, leaving it with some crumpled sheet metal and a broken headlight, but everything else looked fine.

  By now, other cars were creeping past them, the usual rubberneckers slowing to examine the scene before moving on. Off in the distance, Jason spotted the whirling lights of a police car approaching. “Fuck…” he murmured. At this rate, between trading information with the woman, making a police report, and figuring out what the hell to do with the car, he wouldn’t be out of here before dinner time at the earliest—and that assumed he could find another way to Reno.

  “I’m really sorry,” the woman said again. “This is totally my fault. My mind was on something else and I was going too fast.”

  He glanced up to study her. She looked to be in her middle to late twenties, with shoulder-length brown hair, a healthy tan, and a solid, athletic figure. She wore jeans, a leather bomber jacket with the sleeves pushed up, a blue T-shirt with the logo of a local bar on it, and a Dodgers cap. Aside from a fresh, dark bruise flowering on her forearm, she appeared uninjured from the crash.

  In spite of his anger at this frustrating setback to his plans, he appreciated her straightforward candor. No trying to weasel out of the fact this mess was her doing. That was one point in her favor. “Yeah, no kidding,” he muttered.

  She pulled a brown leather wallet from her jacket pocket. “Don’t worry—I’m insured. We should probably get out of the street and exchange info.”

  “Yeah.” Jason retrieved his overnight duffel and camera bag from the trunk, then moved off to the side as the police finally made it to the scene.

  The cops did their jobs quickly and efficiently, taking Jason and the woman aside separately to get their information and statements, snapping photos of the accident from several angles, and verifying that neither of them needed medical attention. The policewoman who spoke with Jason encouraged him to stop by the local urgent-care facility to get checked out, but he assured her he was fine. The car’s frame and airbag had done their job, and it hadn’t been a serious crash—though he couldn’t tell that from looking at the mangled front end of his trusty gray sedan. He wondered if it could be fixed, or if he’d have to total it and get a new one. The latter would almost certainly involve dipping into the money from Stone.

  The cops soon left, just as a tow truck arrived. Jason wondered who’d called it. As it approached, the woman came over to him.

  “Listen,” she said, still looking apologetic, “I don’t know how to make this up to you. The least I can do is buy you a cup of coffee while we wait to find out what’s going on. Why don’t you figure out where they’re taking your car. I’ll run you over there so you can give them your information.”

  Jason almost turned her down—it felt like consorting with the enemy—but then dismissed that thought as stupid. He didn’t have Stone’s or Verity’s ability to read auras, but even so he was fairly sure she hadn’t meant to hit him, and genuinely did feel bad about it. Being a dick to her for an honest mistake was hardly a good look for him. “Yeah, okay,” he said, a little reluctantly. “Looks like I’m not going anywhere anytime soon in my
own car.”

  He spoke to the tow-truck driver; the nearest Ford dealership was in Reno, so he asked the guy to tow it there, then tossed his gear in the back seat of the woman’s SUV and swung into the passenger seat.

  “Looks like you made out better than I did,” he said as she started it up. The engine rumbled smoothly, showing no signs of difficulty.

  She patted the dash. “Yeah, this thing is built like a tank. That’s probably why it did so much damage to your car.” She sighed ruefully. “I can’t say ‘sorry’ enough. I’m not going to lie—my mind wasn’t on driving, and I didn’t see you poke your nose out.”

  “Eh, it’s okay. As long as you’ve got good insurance. I just hope they can fix it and don’t have to total it.”

  “Yeah, that would suck. My name’s Amber, by the way, in case you didn’t notice it on my driver’s license. Amber Harte.”

  Jason had noticed it—he’d be a pretty poor private investigator if he hadn’t—but didn’t say so. “Jason Thayer.”

  She flashed him a quick smile. Her eyes were a rich brown, serious but with a twinkle of mischief. “Nice to meet you, Jason Thayer. I’d have picked different circumstances, but hey, whatever works.” She made a vague wave in the direction of the accident site. “I saw your license plate frame—you’re not from around here, area you? Bay Area?”

  “Yeah. I was driving over here for some business.” Once again, he winced—if he didn’t get to Reno by this evening, he’d probably miss the cheating husband, and then he’d either have to track him down again or extend his time in Reno.

  “What kind of business? Are you one of those tech guys?”

  “Nah. Private investigator.”

  “Really?” Her eyebrows rose, and she looked intrigued. “That’s not one I would have expected.”

  “Well, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? If I wore a fedora and a trenchcoat, it would make it harder to blend in.” In spite of himself, Jason liked Amber. She reminded him a bit of Verity: down to earth but with enough whimsy to keep her from being boring.