Risky Goods: Arcane Transporter 2

by Jami Gray

  A heartbeat passed, then two as realization hit me that weren’t chasing me. Since I didn’t want to tempt fate, it was time to get out of there. I got to my feet and went to take a step when my head spun, and I stumbled into the wall. Fortunately, my shoulder hit first and not my head. I wasn’t sure my aching skull could take much more. I kept my gaze on the ground as the dizziness pulled back. I still wasn’t feeling all that steady, but this was not the spot for a nap.

  I pushed off the wall and carefully retraced my steps. I kept my head down as I made my way back to where I’d parked, this time because every move sent another wave of pain, not because I was avoiding detection. The half-block trek felt endless, and by the time I saw the bright lights of the car wash, the throbbing in my head had gone from annoying to painful. I’d definitely pushed myself and my magic too hard, and getting home was going to be a bitch.

  I finally made it to my car, dropped into the driver’s seat, and managed to engage the locks without whimpering. I sat there for I didn’t know how long, eyes closed, simply concentrating on breathing. Bit by bit, the headache backed off, probably because I wasn’t upright and moving. I was pondering the wisdom of indulging in a nap when my phone vibrated in my back pocket.

  Keeping my eyes closed, I braced my feet and lifted my hips so I could dig my phone out. My poor head did not like the move and protested with a warning throb. Once I got the phone out, I carefully sank back into the seat and spent a few moments holding it. When it buzzed in my hand with a reminder of an unread text, I lifted it up to face height, thumbed the screen out of habit, and finally opened my eyes.

  Zev: Where are you?

  I guessed Zev was done for the night.

  My fingers moved over the screen: Out. What’s up?

  I waited for his reply, but instead, my phone rang. Seeing his name on the screen, I picked up. “Hey.”

  “Out where?”

  Maybe it was because my head hurt and I was exhausted, so my patience was stretched thin, or maybe it was his tone, but for whatever reason, my response was sharp. “Out. What do you want?”

  Silence vibrated across the line. Then in a less aggressive tone, he said, “Things wrapped up sooner than expected. I thought we could go check a few things out that we didn’t have time to do this afternoon.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was go back out and poke around, but it was my job, so I sucked it up. “Give me about twenty, and I’ll meet you at my place.”

  “Tell me where you are. Maybe it’ll be faster if I come pick you up.”

  What is his deal? I pulled the phone from my ear and glared at it before putting it back up. “Twenty minutes. My place.”

  Before he could respond, I hung up and tossed the phone into the center cupholder, wondering how much trouble I would earn by ditching his ass that night. Since the answer was probably “More than I could handle,” I started up my Mustang and headed home.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I found Zev waiting for me when I stepped out of the elevator at my condo. Dressed in jeans and a dark T-shirt, he was leaning against the wall by my door, arms folded and a familiar frown etched on his face. That frown, laced with broody intensity and paired with that body, took him from flat-out sexy male to dangerous badass trouble. It was a good thing it was late and most of my neighbors were already in, because with him standing there smoldering like that, someone would have called security. Or invited him in.

  His gaze caught mine and held it. Then, as if trapped by an invisible tractor beam, it drew me in. With each step, I could feel my balance wobble along the thin line separating our personal and professional relationships, and I wasn’t sure how long I could remain steady. He was going to have questions I wasn’t ready to answer, which meant I was out of time and needed to make a decision on how much I was willing to share with him.

  As I got closer, I could tell something was working deep in those eyes, but the exact nature of it was beyond me. I was dead on my feet, thanks to the night’s activities.

  He straightened, dropped his arms, and took a step toward me as the air in the hall went electric. “What happened to you?”

  What? No hello? Instead of snapping back, I broke eye contact and headed straight to the door. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

  I fumbled at the lock, finally got the door open, and stepped over the threshold. I pulled up short when the pulse of warding magic raked over what felt like raw exposed nerves. Gritting my teeth at yet another sign that I’d magically overreached, I touched a warding sigil set above the light switch in the entryway and reversed the ward, deactivating Lena’s personalized version of a home security system.

  The disconcerting sting of magic faded and was replaced by the unmistakable weight of Zev’s presence close at my back. I heard him inhale sharply like a dog tracking a scent. I kept moving forward, doing everything I could to not look like I was avoiding his touch. I heard the door close and the lock engage as I headed straight for the fridge, praying it held something cold and caffeinated. Granted, I would have preferred a high alcohol content but knew that wouldn’t be wise.

  I dug through the second shelf and found a can of soda tucked in the back. With my head in the fridge, I asked, “Want something to drink?”

  “No.”

  I grabbed the can, took a quick bracing breath, and closed the fridge. Only then did I turn to face the inevitable, shifting backward until my butt hit the cabinets and the counter’s edge pressed against my spine. I popped the tab on the can and took a drink, keeping my gaze on Zev as he watched from across the island. I lowered the can and curled both hands around it, holding it against my stomach while we continued our stare down. Zev didn’t say anything, just pinned me in place with his look that said plenty.

  He was good, because I broke about fifteen seconds in. “What?”

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Nothing happened.”

  “Rory, you look like a ghost, and based on the lines around your mouth and the permanent wince you’re sporting, I’m also betting you’re in serious pain.”

  Damn, he’s good. If his insistence hadn’t been so annoying, I just might have been impressed. “I’ve just had a long day, Zev.”

  “Stood with you through longer, so nope, not buying it. Share.”

  “Share what? I’m tired, it’s a long day, end of story.” Why can’t he leave it alone? Hell, a better question would be why can’t I just give him a straight answer? It was as if I had to keep testing him, keep pushing until he did what I expected and walked away. God, I hope he doesn’t walk away.

  “When I left you, you were fine. I come back a few hours later, you look like shit. That’s not right.” He cocked his head. “What did you do?”

  I wanted to chuck my soda at him but didn’t. “What’s your deal? Why are you pushing this?”

  He rounded the island and closed in. Me being me, I refused to retreat, so I stubbornly held my position. Not that I had anywhere to go as Zev stopped right in front of me, braced his hands on either side of me, and basically trapped me between him and the counter. He was so close that if I even twitched my hands, which were clinging to the aluminum can for dear life, I’d be touching him.

  He leaned in, the movement causing the muscles of his shoulders and arms to flex. He lowered his head without breaking eye contact until all I could see was him. “Where. Were. You.”

  My heart beat like a wild thing, and I could barely get air into my tight chest. The condo could explode around us, and I’d still be trapped in his gaze. Nerves that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with Zev struck me. The faintly hysterical thought that he was digging in, not walking away, drifted through my mind, but he was so close, too close.

  My thoughts were tripping over themselves and losing their way to my mouth, but I managed to string together enough to fight back. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Because partners share. That’s what they do.”

  His comment caused a sharp ache
I refused to acknowledge. It also snapped the thin thread of panic and left me nervous and defensive. “Is that what we are? I thought I was your babysitter.”

  His face darkened, and his voice hardened as he met my temper with his. “Don’t dump that shit on me. That was all Imogen, and you know it.”

  I bit my lip and dropped my gaze, because he was right.

  He touched my chin with a finger, bringing my head back up. Once he had my eyes, he put his hand back on the counter. His anger faded. “The more you keep dodging, the more you make me wonder what you’re hiding.”

  “I’m not…” I cut myself off because even for me, it was too blatant a lie to utter.

  His lip curled, and it wasn’t in amusement. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He shook his head. “You and your damn secrets.” He didn’t give me a chance to finish. His gaze drifted over my face, but I swore it felt like an actual touch. “If you want whatever it is between us to survive this, you need to stop hiding.”

  A jolt of surprise made me twitch at his blunt comment, making me give a knee-jerk response. “Why?”

  The lines in his face relaxed as amusement crept in around the cynical edges. “You get that you’re admitting you’re hiding something, right?”

  Okay, yeah, but… “Doesn’t make my question any less valid, Zev.”

  “Fair enough. You want it straight?”

  I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes since if I asked, the answer should be obvious. “Please.”

  A few more harsh lines in his face eased. “If you don’t trust me enough to share something this simple, what are we doing?”

  Even though what he wanted to know wouldn’t stay simple, his question struck hard and true, knocking me off my high horse of stubbornness with enough force to rattle some sense into my pride. I could feel the heat riding in my cheeks as I looked at my feet and muttered, “Dammit.”

  Reading it for the concession it was, he waited for me to talk. I lifted my head and met his gaze. He was still here, trying. I owed him the same. “Umber called, said he had some info to share and asked me to stop by.”

  “So you went alone?”

  “You were busy, remember?”

  “You could’ve sent me a text.”

  His comment caught me off guard and left me puzzled. “Why would I do that?”

  Frustration stained his cheeks red. “I don’t know. So I’d at least know where you were.”

  “Again, why? I’m perfectly capable working solo. In fact, that’s kind of my default, remember?”

  He dropped his head until all I could see was the dark-haired top. “You should’ve called me.”

  Not able to see his face and get a read on his thoughts made my suspicions rush to the fore. Maybe I needed to give him the benefit of the doubt and construe his being pushy as concern for my well-being, but a cynical little voice reminded me of one inescapable fact—his primary loyalty was to the Cordova Family.

  Treading carefully, I said, “Even if something did happen, it’s not like you could do anything, because Family business takes priority, right?”

  When he raised his head, I still couldn’t read his expression, but his voice carried an edge of resentment. I just didn’t know who it was aimed at—me, the Cordovas, or himself. “Never made a secret of that, Rory.”

  No he hadn’t, so my foolishly wishing he’d change his mind made zero sense. My grip on the can tightened, and the faint ping of aluminum denting whispered between us. Carefully sidestepping that argument, I slogged ahead. “You were busy, and I had time, so I stopped by. Plus, if you were at my side, it would make Umber uncomfortable.”

  Zev dropped his hands from the counter, straightened, and then leaned a shoulder against the fridge. “Why? He thinks I’m Guild.”

  His change in stance gave me a little breathing room, and my grip on the can relaxed. “For something like this, it doesn’t matter. What matters is, he doesn’t know you—he knows me.”

  Of course, Zev—being who he was and what he was—got that. “Okay. So his information, was there something to it?”

  The tension in my shoulders eased as we inched around one of the potentially heartbreaking pitfalls that lay before us. “Yeah, actually, there was. He had a couple of customers who were there when Jonas died.” I took another sip of soda.

  Zev folded his arms, his gaze sharp. “Did they see what went down that night?”

  I shook my head as I set the can on the counter. “No, but they heard two guys arguing about a drug deal and the intensity of it was uncomfortable enough that Umber’s customers hotfooted it back inside, where an underground party was happening, to make sure they didn’t get caught up in it. I pressed, trying to see if the partygoers heard anything specific, and Umber said no, but they freaked even more when a body turned up the next morning in the alley behind the party’s location. It didn’t take much for them to put two and two together to get a close four.”

  “But they didn’t see who was arguing?” Zev asked.

  “Right.”

  “So all they knew was there was an argument, and someone turned up dead.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I nodded.

  “Okay, a meet with Umber would’ve kept you busy until dinner, but”—he watched me closely—“it doesn’t explain you dragging back in here at close to nine at night.”

  As much as I enjoyed Zev’s intelligence, right then it was a pain in my ass because he was leading us back into the minefield I wanted to avoid. “After the meet, I swung by where Jonas was found and the party was held.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing.” I tried my best to sound casual but failed.

  Zev dropped his arms and turned away until all I had was his back. He crossed the small space to the island and braced his hands on it while he faced out into living room. While I couldn’t help but appreciate the rear view, the tension winding between us was making me antsy. Needing something to do, I reclaimed my soda and took a drink.

  Without looking at me, he said, “You know those secrets I mentioned?”

  Since it wasn’t really a question, I didn’t answer. Instead, I braced and waited for whatever this was to play out. He didn’t make me wait long.

  His shoulders bunched as he pushed off the counter and turned back to me. “I didn’t forget what went down when we went after Lena.”

  Playing stupid wasn’t going to work, so instead, I stayed quiet and did my best not to squirm under his intense gaze.

  His voice was quiet but sure. “There’s more to you than a Transporter, and you’re not keen on making whatever it is public.”

  Anxiety rose, sending my stomach roiling, as I wondered how much he’d figured out.

  He took his shot, watching me carefully. “As you admitted your magic is Mystic based, I’m going to take a guess that whatever ability you have, it’s some sort of variant of curse breaking, and you either see magic or can manipulate it.”

  I swallowed hard, held mute as his shot whizzed by so close I could feel it singe my hair. I’d forgotten that I’d made that admission when we were trying to get Lena out of the Drainer’s Circle. He had flexed his magical muscle to reverse the spell, but to get enough oomph to make that happen, all three of us had to work together. For that to be done safely, he needed to know if we were combining like powers or not, which led to me sharing that my magic was the kind founded in psychic abilities instead of elemental.

  He wasn’t done. “So tell me, how close am I?”

  Too damn close for comfort. Especially since that night’s little experiments indicated that he was half-right—I could see magic. I didn’t know enough about the magical spectrum to know if that ability was specific only to curse breakers, the mages who specialized in the setting and breaking of curses. If it was, I was more of a freak than I thought. Manipulating magic was always given the side-eye because mages didn’t want someone messing with their abilities. What I did know was that Prisms weren’t about manipulating magic—they were immun
e to it. That difference was what made being a Prism so dangerous. Magical immunity was coveted for a variety of reasons, and most of those would not end well for the Prism—a fact borne out by what historical stories I could find about Prisms.

  “Rory?”

  I stared at him as panic welled. I was nowhere near ready for this discussion, but Zev was right on one point—if we wanted something beyond this, I needed to know how far I could trust him. “Before I answer, I’ve got a question for you.”

  God, am I really going to do this? Putting myself out there meant giving him information he could take back to his Family. Even if I didn’t share outright, what I gave him would be enough for him to start making the right connections. It wouldn’t take him long to put it all together, and then… that was what worried me. Being outed as a Prism could potentially upend my life and put me in the midst of something I wasn’t ready for.

  But the thing was, my secret had been seeping out for a while. Sabella knew it. Lena knew it. I was pretty sure Evan had figured it out as well, considering how I’d gone about freeing him from a spelled trap laid with sub-rosa runes, which even a Key would have a tough time breaking. Chances were damn high the Guild director knew, too, especially since I’d grown up under their aegis and hadn’t left until this last year. While working for the Guild, I’d run into the occasional situation that a typical Transporter might find challenging to slip away from. Now, as an independent contractor catering to the Arcane elite, keeping the lid on my ability was getting tougher and tougher with each day. My best bet at controlling the fallout is to control the reveal, right?

  Something of what was going through my head must have been evident, because Zev took his time answering, and when he did, it came out stilted. “Ask.”

  Gathering my courage, I lifted my chin and met his gaze head-on. “If you knew something that wouldn’t hurt the Cordovas but could cause someone else harm if they knew, would you tell Emilio?”