by Sarah Fine
“Um, I barely feel it,” he said. “Are you sure she’s got it?”
Asa frowned as he looked me over. “I thought so, but it was tough to . . .” He edged closer, but stopped as I flinched back. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to touch you again.”
“Not around the neck this time,” I told him. “I didn’t like that.”
His fingers encircled my wrist, and he stared at the floor. “It’s definitely in there.” He seemed puzzled as he looked down at my other hand, still clutched in Don’s sweaty grip. “Don, are you pulling on it?”
“I usually don’t have to! One touch, and zip.” He looked at me, his chest puffed out. “I’m what you call a superconductor.”
Asa closed his eyes, as if trying to summon his patience. “Try pulling.”
Don’s face contorted as he squeezed my fingers. Sweat trickled down the side of his face and into his ear. Finally, he grunted in frustration. “Nothing.”
“Fuck me, Mattie Carver, you are literally full of surprises,” Asa said, staring at me. He ran his hand through his hair. “Of all people.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You have to give the okay or it won’t transfer.”
“I was perfectly willing for it to transfer! It’s not like I want someone else’s magical juice inside me.”
Don snorted. “I like reliquaries.”
Asa shot him an annoyed glance before looking back to me. “I’m not saying you were holding it on purpose. But you’re going to have to consent before the magic will leave you.”
“Consent.” Normally, I was a big fan of that word, but this time?
“It’s not going to work if you’re passive. You actually have to take charge.” I think he could tell I wasn’t getting it. “Picture a trunk, right? That’s a typical reliquary. You open the trunk; you take out the magic.”
“Okaaay.”
“You’re more like a bank vault.”
“Oh.”
“And right now, you’re the only one who knows the combination.”
Asa was looking deep into my eyes, and it was doing funny things to me. I didn’t feel like I could look away. “So I’m in control.”
“You’re in control.”
That wasn’t how he’d made it seem, threatening me with Rhonda and Mrs. Lichtel, but I decided I didn’t want to find out if they could take control from me or not. “Fine. But after this, we’re going to talk about Ben,” I said.
Asa’s nostrils flared. “Yes.”
I turned back to Don and eyed the necklace, the delicate gold pendant resting on a sea of sweaty hair. “I like it when a woman takes control,” he said.
I ignored him, focusing on the sloshy feeling inside my chest. I didn’t feel like a bank vault—I felt more like an aquarium. But either way, it seemed I had to decide to let the magic go. I took hold of Don’s wrist and closed my eyes, remembering how it had felt when the magic rushed in, liquid lightning, the taste of power like copper on my tongue. I could feel it rolling around inside me, just waiting to find its exit. All I had to do was free it. I leaned forward as I imagined tilting the aquarium and dumping all that water, all the wriggling fish, over the side.
The rush was immediate and electrified my muscles, a million needle pricks in the space of a second, overwhelming me. Next to me, I heard Don cry out, and I focused on pushing all the sharp tingles away, down my arms, up my wrists, along my fingertips and into his body. I regained sensation in my legs first, then my stomach and chest, then my arms. Don was writhing on his cot, still in the grip of the magic flowing through him and into the relic. But my part was done, and I fell backward, my body limp and wrung out.
I didn’t hit the floor, but I collided with something almost as hard. Asa’s arms wrapped around me as he caught me. His legs were on either side of mine, and the back of my head rested on his chest. I craned my neck to look up at him. “How’d I do?”
He glanced at Don. “Fucking incredible.”
I let out a slow breath, regaining my scattered wits. “Now we talk about Ben.”
He shook his head.
“You promised!”
“I’ll do you one better.” He bowed his head over mine, a startling uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “You assist me on a job . . .”
I stared up at him. “Assist you . . . ?”
“I’ll help you find him.”
CHAPTER SIX
It was a testament to how worried my parents were about me that when I said I wanted to unplug and spend the next two weeks at the spa over at Elkhart Lake, they wrote me a check for four thousand dollars, no questions asked. “I’ll keep the pressure on Detective Logan. And if anything comes up, we’ll let you know,” Dad said. “But I’m glad you’re doing this for yourself.”
It hurt to lie to him and Mom, but if I told them what I was up to, Dad would be on the phone with the detective—or her boss—immediately. And Asa had said that if I brought the police into this, he’d disappear without a trace. I believed him.
I sat next to Barley in the library, petting his soft fur. It was almost time to leave. I’d already loaded my suitcase into my car. “You hang in there, okay?” I said softly in Barley’s ear. “I’m going to bring him back to you.”
“Hearing is the last thing to go,” Grandpa said from his hospital bed. He sounded much more alert than he had been yesterday, probably because he hadn’t been loaded up with painkillers yet.
I gave Barley one last scratch and moved to my grandfather’s bedside. “You’re not fooling me,” he said. “You’re not going to some spa.”
“Well, it seems like we both have some secrets.” It explained Grandpa’s familiarity with magic, and all his cryptic comments. “Are you a reliquary, too?”
“Too?” His eyes widened for a moment. “I wondered if you were one. I couldn’t tell for sure, but I’ve suspected.”
“Is Dad one?”
“Ha! I introduced him to one of my associates once, and we did a little experiment. Jack, my conduit friend, had a relic in one hand—a tiny bit of pain magic, just enough to give a shock. And there your dad was, shaking his other hand, totally oblivious as Jack twitched. If your dad was a reliquary, it would have—”
“I know.” I’d felt it. I wasn’t sure if it was a good feeling or a bad one. “So it skipped a generation.”
“It happens.” His watery eyes stared out at the lake. “How did you find out? Yesterday I could have sworn you had no idea.”
I pictured Asa’s steely gaze as he pressed his boot into my shoulder and told me what I was for the first time. “Do you really want to know all the details?”
“No. You’re still my little granddaughter. But it’s hard not to tell your parents that you’re lying to them.”
My cheeks warmed. “Grandpa . . . I’ve been a grown-up for a while now.”
“I have to keep reminding myself of that,” he said hoarsely.
I laid my hand over his and lowered my voice. “Doesn’t mean I don’t need your guidance, though. I said I would help someone transport magic in exchange for information. Should I be scared?”
For a moment he looked totally conflicted, but then he let out a rattling sigh. “Be careful. Things were different in my day. More civilized. We had a code, and we all worked together.”
“Naturals, conduits, and reliquaries, you mean?”
“We used to protect each other and work together.” He shook his head. “Truly good teams are rare these days. Most are just mercenaries only out for themselves.”
I thought of Asa and his minivan full of illicit goodies. Grandpa’s description fit him perfectly. “How did it work back then? When you were traveling all over the world—magic was your business?”
He smiled. It seemed like talking about this had given him a little extra energy. “Yes. I called myself an international business consultant specializing in mediation. And in a way, I was. I would deliver magic to a buyer, and I would work with conduits to install the package in a reli
c of the customer’s choosing. Commissions were good.”
I played with a loose thread at the hem of my sundress. “Did you ever work with sensors?”
“Oh, of course. The bosses all have them on staff. Always part of a good security detail.”
“Bosses?” I giggled. “It sounds like a mob thing.”
He looked at me, and the laughter died in my throat. I’d been pushing my fears aside all morning, but deep down, I knew I’d gotten myself into something serious. And that meant Ben had, too. “I thought magic wasn’t against the law,” I said feebly.
“No, but sometimes what people do with it is. The Headsmen try to keep the worst under control.”
“Headsmen?”
“Well, they can be women, too. Closest thing to magical law enforcement around.”
“Isn’t a ‘headsman’ an executioner?” I’d watched a BBC drama with my mom the summer before.
Grandpa nodded wearily. “They have their own agenda, which is control.”
A chill went through me. Exactly a week ago, deviled eggs had been my biggest worries. And now . . . “What about magic sensors?”
Grandpa’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, those are rare. Or, they are in the business, at least. I would imagine most of them would steer clear just by pure instinct.”
“Why?” Asa now seemed like even more of a mystery.
“Unless you’re a conduit, you’ll be affected by magic whenever it hits your skin. But if you’re a magic sensor? Especially a powerful one?” He shuddered. “You wouldn’t ever get a break. The intensity . . . I can’t imagine it.”
That made no sense. Asa had been surrounded by magic last night. The club was full of naturals. Heck, he had a van full of toys covered in the stuff! Maybe he just wasn’t that powerful or sensitive? “So you haven’t met many of them.”
“No.” He got a wistful look on his craggy face. “But the nicest young lady I ever met was one. She helped me and Jack out of a spot of serious trouble one time in Moscow. Theresa was her name. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I promised her I would repay her, and one day I did.” He rubbed his chest like it hurt. “But that was a long time ago.”
“Grandpa, did Grandma know what you were up to?”
Grandpa shook his head. “Seemed safer to protect her from it.”
“And that’s why you’re not going to tell Mom and Dad,” I said quietly. “You’re going to let me go.”
He took my hand. “Only if you promise to come back. And when you do, when you’ve found your Ben and figured out what you can really do, I have something for you.”
“I’ll be back,” I said, my throat tightening.
“Good.” His voice had faded to a whisper. “Having this power is a gift, Mattie, but it can also be a curse. Each person has to decide how to live with it.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to get out there in the big, bad world,” I said with a strained chuckle.
Grandpa squeezed my hand. “Reliquaries are easy to underestimate. Sometimes it’s our best advantage.” His eyes filled with tears, and he looked away. “Get going, kid. And hurry back.”
I drove to the Milwaukee airport in a haze of heavy what-ifs. Last night, I had been so desperate to gather more information about what had happened to Ben that I’d agreed to Asa’s offer without hesitation. He’d told me next to nothing about what we would be doing, where we would be going. I didn’t even know how long we would be gone. Even as I’d packed today, I’d pushed the doubts and questions away because I’d been afraid they would crater me.
I parked in the supersaver lot and dragged my suitcase out of the trunk. Rather than getting on the shuttle that would take me to the terminal, though, I hiked all the way to the access road and stood at the corner, as instructed.
Fifteen minutes later I was irritated and scared and considering giving up when a familiar tan minivan came to a stop next to me. The tinted window rolled down, and Asa peered at my sundress with apparent amusement. “What, no picnic basket?”
I scowled at him. “Was I supposed to wear cargo pants and a T-shirt so we could be twinsies?”
“Twinsies,” he said. “What a thought. Ready?” He hit a button and the side door slid open, revealing an open space between the cargo area and the front seats. Gracie was on her feet, regarding me hungrily with her pale eyes, one of which was clouded over with blindness.
I was about to get into a car with a pit bull and a felon. A guy who’d threatened to kill my fiancé. And everyone who cared about me thought I was safe and sound and somewhere else.
Talk about diving in headlong.
“If you expect me to get out and load your bag for you, think again,” he said, misinterpreting my hesitation. He glanced in his rearview mirror and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, but I couldn’t get my feet to move.
Gracie shifted her weight and let out a bark. “Easy,” Asa said to her, his voice soft. Then his gaze shifted back to me. “Are you waiting for a sweeter offer? A valet? A red carpet?”
“For all I know you’re the one who took Ben in the first place.” I took a step back and nearly fell over my suitcase.
“How’d you guess? And now I’m going to get rid of you, too.” He smirked. “So can we get started already? I’ve got to get your body wrapped up and dumped in a lake before sundown.”
I tucked my hand into my pocket, my fingers closing around my phone. “I can’t believe I thought you would help me.”
He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “Have it your way. Go home and spend the rest of your sad little life wondering what happened to Ben.”
“Do you know what happened to him?”
“No fucking idea, though I can make a few educated guesses. The police will never find him if I’m right.”
“Why should I believe you?”
He leaned toward me, his hands still on the steering wheel. “Maybe you shouldn’t. And I’m not going to waste energy trying to convince you, because I. Don’t. Care.”
“Then why did you offer to help?”
“You have something I want, so I offered you a deal. Take it or not.” His mouth was tight. “But get the fuck in the car in the next thirty seconds, or I’m gone.” He glanced in the rearview mirror again.
Bart had said Asa was paranoid. He didn’t like to be exposed. “I took pictures of your license plates with my phone last night,” I said, wishing I’d actually thought to do exactly that. “If anything happens to me, the police will come looking for you.”
He rolled his eyes. “No, they’ll go looking for George Ingall of 467 Larchmont Drive in Waukesha. Give me some credit. Get in the damn van, Mattie. This is your last chance.”
Gracie barked at me again, and I stuck my hand out to let her sniff it. I’d dealt with more than one pit at the clinic, and they were total love machines if you gave them half a chance. She licked sweat off my palm with her thick, wet tongue as I stared at her owner’s surprised face. “You know what I think, Asa? You don’t want me. You need me. To do something you couldn’t have done otherwise.”
His jaw clenched.
“Is it dangerous, whatever it is we’re doing?”
“You never know when you’re going be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m not making any promises.”
“Oh, come on,” I snapped. “Stop treating me like an idiot.” I took a step back and turned, making as though I were headed back to my car.
“Hey,” he yelled. “I’ll keep you as safe as I can, okay?”
I looked over my shoulder. “I need to make it home to my family. If anything happened to me, it would be more than they could handle.”
“You’re a reliquary. If you die, any magic you’re carrying is lost. If the magic is lost, I don’t make money, and people come after me. I like to make money, and I don’t like people coming after me.”
“So it’s in your best interest to keep me safe.”
He tapped the tip of his nose. Gracie whined and edged forwa
rd, lowering herself onto her forelegs like she wanted to play. “She likes you,” Asa said quietly.
“I’m good with animals.”
“Are you coming or not?” He looked up the road and then into his rearview mirror again.
My grip tightened over my suitcase handle. I knew he was right—if I went home now, I might never know what happened to Ben. I’d seen enough last night to understand that I’d stumbled onto some kind of underworld, and without a guide, I wasn’t going to make it far, reliquary or not. “Okay.”
I hefted the suitcase, and Gracie backtracked as I loaded it into her space, sniffing frantically at it. Before I could hesitate again, I slid the side door shut and pulled open the passenger door. Asa watched me as I hopped into the seat and buckled myself in. “So, where to?”
Asa grinned, the first time I’d ever seen him smile. It was bright and sharp as a knife. “Into the lion’s den, Mattie Carver. Welcome aboard.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Asa got on 94 heading south toward Chicago, and I spent a few minutes adjusting to the incredible strangeness of being in a car with him. Gracie lounged in the back, her large, square head resting on my suitcase. Behind her, the cargo area was walled off, and Asa had hooked a net to the van ceiling to keep anything from flying over the partition and landing on her. In the cupholder was a water bottle, but it was half-full of some kind of sloshing green substance. I wrinkled my nose as Asa unscrewed the cap and took a swig. “What is that?”
“The blood of an alien hitchhiker.”
“I’ll bet you think you’re funny.”
“I’ll bet you think I care what you think of me.” He capped the bottle and set it back in the cupholder.
“It was a harmless question, Asa. I figured we should try to get to know each other. You’re going to be my brother-in-law.” I swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in my throat. “That was the plan, at least.”
Asa slowed down as we passed a trooper who had pulled an SUV off the road. “Kale, celery, green apples, cucumber, parsley, ginger, and lemon juice.”
“How very healthy of you,” I said. I eyed his scarred knuckles and his crooked profile as we sped down the road, thinking about the few things Ben had told me—that Asa was full of rage, that he was jealous of his little brother. Ben had been close to his dad, though he’d hinted on more than one occasion that he was a demanding parent, to say the least. I wondered if Asa hadn’t met his expectations, especially since I knew he’d gotten in a lot of trouble as a teenager, taking and dealing drugs, getting in fights. The opposite of his straitlaced younger brother. It seemed like a recipe for resentment. But I was hoping that somewhere in there, Asa cared about Ben more than he let on.