“Oh, it’s not?” Bridget asked, and I realized I’d paused too long.
“I got dirty while working with Niko. You saw my pants.”
“Uh-huh. And he was like, ‘Why don’t I help you take those off?’ And you demurred, professing, ‘Oh, you can’t! If you do, you’ll set my panties on fire.’” She gave Niko a growly voice and me a falsetto that probably carried through the neighborhood.
“I did not come over here to be laughed at.”
“There’s nothing funny about third-degree burns on your vagi—”
“Bridget!”
“At least tell me: Did he strip out of these and hand them to you or did you help him undress?”
“They were a spare from the trunk of his car. I fell in mud and used the towel I was supposed to sit on to wipe down Jamie, and Niko insisted I wear his spare pants so he didn’t have to get his car detailed when I got out. And he sat in the car while I changed.”
“That’s boring. I’m going to pretend you got to see him strip.”
We both paused to savor that mental image. I wasn’t sure how Bridget pictured Niko, but so long as she imagined male perfection, she was close.
The washer beeped, and we both jumped, which made us laugh. Bridget insisted on switching my clothes to the dryer herself, and since I had melted into the chair and the pulsing in my feet promised pain if I put my boots back on, I didn’t protest.
“So, our region is in trouble?” Bridget asked when she returned.
It was sweet of her to say our region when she just lived here and taking care of it was my responsibility.
While snacking on crackers and hummus, I explained the frost moth phenomenon. Once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. I prattled on about my day in the foothills with Niko—glossing over all the embarrassing parts—about our goal to reduce the moth population enough to raise temperatures again, the proactive measures she should take to protect herself, and what it felt like to hold a moth with a net formed from my soul.
In my haste to show off my expertise, I’d explained the tyver and their drones and all the dangers they presented before I realized I should have kept the information to myself. Bridget couldn’t see drones, she couldn’t detect when they fed on her, and she couldn’t do anything about it even if she found herself unexpectedly acting on her impulses. Seeing the fear grow behind her big green eyes choked off my words. I reached across the table to grab her hand.
“I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe,” I promised her.
“I know. But what about you? These tyver can steal your soul.” She shuddered. “That’s crazy dangerous. Like, life-and-death dangerous.”
Leaning back, I gripped the handle of the soul breaker, which rested against my chest. “I’m not wearing this gaudy necklace for my health. Oh, wait. Yes, I am.” I gave the handle a tug, revealing the wicked hooks on the tips of the weapon. “If any tyv gets close to me, I’ll skewer it.” Through force of will, I sank enough confidence into my words to fool my best friend.
“That’s my girl. Give ’em hell.”
Jamie stretched, then released a long sigh in his sleep. Bridget and I glanced down at him, and I used the moment to segue into explaining his presence. I kept the details brief—he was a pooka who had bonded with me and it was my job to convince him to transform his half-and-half soul into a shining beacon of pure lux lucis. I skipped over mentioning his ability to change shapes or that he’d risen straight from the soil beneath the under-construction parking garage at the mall. I also avoided mentioning my complete failure in controlling him. I’d scared Bridget enough for one evening.
She sat back, staring into space, her pointer finger tapping her lips. I waited quietly, letting her absorb the thousand and one bizarre details I’d unloaded on her. If our roles were reversed, I wondered if I’d have believed her. My world sounded almost too fantastical even for me to believe, and I lived it.
Bridget gave herself a shake. “You sound like a total pro. Look how much you’ve accomplished. You’ve got a slew of weapons, a talking book, and a pooka. It’s like you’ve been an enforcer your whole life.”
“It feels like a lifetime since I was hired.” I scooped hummus onto the last cracker and slumped back in my seat. As much as I would have loved to do nothing other than chat with Bridget for the rest of the evening, my time was fast running out. With a sigh, I bent and picked up the towel and one muddy boot and started cleaning away the grime.
“With all that’s happened, it’s no wonder you’re not bursting to tell me about your date,” Bridget said.
Mmm, Alex. Maybe tomorrow’s lunch date would include a quick make-out session. I didn’t relish blatant public displays of affection, but if I lured him back to my car . . .
“You can’t smile like that and say nothing. I want details,” Bridget demanded.
“Should I start with how wonderful Alex is? I wish you could see his soul; it gives yours a run for its money.”
“Clean soul, check,” Bridget said.
“He was on time, dressed sublimely, courteous, a good driver, a real gentleman—”
“Yadda, yadda. Get to the good stuff already. How real is this? Are you going to tell him about being an enforcer?”
I started shaking my head before she finished the question. “I like him, so, no. It’s way too soon to dump the whole ‘I see souls’ bit on him. Plus, I like that I get to be normal with him. After all the madness with the salamanders and Isabel, spending time with him was like a vacation.”
“Okay.” Bridget traced the rim of her mug with a finger, then crooked an eyebrow at me. “Are you sure he can kiss? You sounded so hesitant on the phone yesterday . . .”
“Oh boy, he can kiss! Just the right amount of tongue and heat and, you’ll laugh, but my toes actually curled and— Dame Zilla!”
Bridget fell back in her chair, laughing. “Is that what the kids are saying these days?”
“No, it’s our new kitten.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Large numerals announced the time as 7:14, sending a spark of adrenaline through me. “Shoot! I’ve got to get going. Here.” I thrust the phone into Bridget’s hands and stood. My thigh muscles protested; my calves chimed in. “Check out the pictures. Dame Zilla is the most adorable kitten ever. She’s one of the ones I rescued. Alex and I picked her up from his clinic after our date.”
We’d also made out in his empty reception room, but I forced myself to set the memories aside and keep moving. While Bridget cooed over all our pictures, I stuffed my feet back into my boots, clipped the knife to my belt, shoved the pet wood and lighter into my back pockets, crammed the palmquell into my purse, and secured Val in his strap. After the initial introductions, Val had been suspiciously quiet, but finding out what had prompted his shyness would have to wait.
Jamie roused, stood, and shook, looking a great deal more refreshed. As wonderful as the food and tea had been, and as great as it was to chat with Bridget, I couldn’t help being jealous of his power nap.
“Who’s this guy in your apartment?” Bridget asked, holding the phone up for me to see. On the screen, human Jamie lay on his back, Dame Zilla sprawled across his stomach.
“That’s an explanation for another day.” I couldn’t drop that bombshell and walk away.
Bridget’s pale eyebrows lifted to her coppery hairline. She zoomed in on Jamie’s laughing face. “You had a male model in your apartment and you’re going to make me wait for an explanation.”
Jamie barked.
“No,” I told him, in case he’d offered to transform.
“Okay, explain,” Bridget said.
“I was talking to Jamie. The answer for you is still that you have to wait. I am a woman of mystery. You must allow me to keep a bit of my mystique.”
“Madison Amelia Fox!”
I darted around Bridget when she tried to block my path and ran to the garage.
“Thanks for doing my laundry.” I stripped out of Niko’s jeans and into my toas
ty pair straight from the dryer. The metal button seared my stomach, and I danced in place until I got my shirt tucked in.
“You’re impossible! At least tell me if he has a girlfriend. Has anyone called dibs on him yet?”
“Bridget! He’s years too young for you!” I yanked on my jacket and held out Jamie’s vest to him. He trotted over and slid his head through the neck hole.
“Pay no attention to Bridget. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” I whispered to him.
“Too young? He’s what, twenty-two? Four years’ difference is nothing.”
Twenty-two? I took the phone back from Bridget. She was right: In the angle and lighting of the picture, he looked like a college kid.
“I’m going to be late,” I said, urging Jamie toward the car.
“I know where you live, Dice. I’ll get an explanation out of you!”
I braced a gloved hand against the fence for balance and stretched one leg, then the other, savoring the rush of blood to my toes as the balls of my feet throbbed in relief. My thighs were so tired. My feet ached. Why had I agreed to run around a mountainside with Niko today, knowing I’d be hunting drones all night? Summer and I hadn’t been out here more than an hour, but I was past ready to head home—as soon as I caught my breath. I should find a nice dry place to sit.
I scanned the neighborhood, disgusted to discover not a single home had a traditional porch, let alone a friendly rocking chair where the resident enforcer could put her feet up for a spell.
Put her feet up for a spell? When had my brain been overtaken by a Southern woman? Why was I squatting? Ah, yes, because a drone had freed me to take uninhibited action—or in my case, uninhibited inaction.
I shook off the cotton fuzzing my thoughts and took stock. Jamie trotted across the street several houses away, ignoring me as he had been since he climbed from the car. A single drone buzzed past him on its way back for another bite out of my soul. Growing bored with Jamie’s slow pace, the imps joyriding on his long Great Dane back leapt after the drone and bounded toward me. Chilly moisture soaked through the fingers of my glove on my right hand, but I still had my palmquell clutched in my left. Summer stood beside me, long hair flowing free below the hem of her beanie, palmquell raised to sight on the drone. From this angle, she was all legs and arms and steely strength, like a Native American cover model for a sci-fi novel, her posture radiating badass. All she needed was a spaceship behind her or maybe the colorful flare of a sun going supernova. Meanwhile, I cowered at her feet, lost in daydreams of rocking chairs.
I swept my pet wood through the incoming imps, killing them, and stood in time to watch the drone explode into glitter ten feet from us. Summer could have killed it just as easily on its first pass, before it took a bite out of my soul, but where was the fun in that? I glared at her back as she stalked away.
“Stay behind me,” Summer said. “We wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
I caught up with her in three strides. “You do remember I was there when you told Pamela you’ve never fought a tyv, right? You’re hardly more experienced in this instance than I am.”
“I’m more experienced than you in every way. You may have other people fooled and you may be milking your circumstances for all they’re worth”—her gaze flicked to Jamie, and I bristled at the implication I’d use my bond with the pooka to advance my career—“but your Brave Little Naïve Madison act won’t work on me this time.”
This time? “What—”
“Poor, helpless Madison,” Summer taunted. “She constipated her own powers for years, but now she’s glommed together some courage. While she blunders around, figuring out the difference between her ass and atrum, she needs protection. Just watch your back, because she’ll steal your region the first chance she gets.”
My mouth hung open. Summer’s resentment went far deeper than a cut to her paycheck. She thought I’d duped her. I strangled my frustration and tried to form a logical argument.
“I never pretended to be anything other than what I am: a new enforcer,” I said.
“You shouldn’t even be an enforcer. You know nothing. You should be working under someone, but instead I get to hold your hand. Your incompetence is a menace.”
My control snapped and I laughed, a bitter, harsh sound. “Right. People love throwing that word in my face. But you had a decade to figure out Isabel was rogue, and it took me only two weeks. If I hadn’t been busy killing a demon my first week on the job, I might have figured it out sooner. If that’s incompetent, then what does it make you? Pathetic?”
I couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing that other duties had prevented Pamela from chaperoning us. Brad had seemed confident we didn’t need her help, and I appreciated not having her present to witness Jamie’s flagrant disobedience, but it also meant I got Summer’s cheerful disposition all to myself.
“Are you trying to brag?” Summer tilted her head back to track a trio of drones as they buzzed high above the houses, ignoring us. “You have no command over your pooka. You can’t handle your region. You can barely control your lux lucis. You’re a disgrace to the job.”
“Are you sure you’re not projecting? It must stink to think so little of me and have the inspector see us as equals.”
If I hadn’t been glaring into her face, I would have missed her flinch. I’d struck a nerve, and I let her see my gloating smile.
“I’m here because Pamela instructed me to be your babysitter,” Summer spat back.
Her words speared straight through my flimsy self-confidence, and my smile slid off my face. More than once, Brad had sent me out with a babysitter. Niko’s role in today’s outing fell under that heading, too, even if he’d dressed it up in other terms. Having someone else with more experience accompany me made sense. I needed training. But entertaining the thought of Summer as my babysitter rankled. Plus she was wrong. No enforcer went solo against drones or tyver. It was the rule.
Before I formulated a properly scathing comeback, my phone rattled out “Hail to the Chief.” Peeling off a glove, I unzipped my coat and dug into my sweater’s pocket, pulling out my cell phone and putting it on speakerphone as I answered. Arms crossed, Summer waited at my side.
“A tyv just breached the northern border less than a mile from you,” Brad announced.
Adrenaline jolted through me, spiking my heart rate, and I choked down a knot of panic.
13
Where Am I Going and Why Am I in This Handbasket?
“The tyv will come at you if you drop your guard,” Brad said. “Don’t. Don’t even get close to her. The tyv is too strong—for either of you.”
I caught the slight emphasis on either. Take that, Summer.
“Focus on picking off drones. There’ll be plenty with the tyv. Whittle down her strength by whittling down their numbers.”
Brad had already gone over our strategy when we met at the office. Drones served as slaves for tyver: They scouted for chimneys suitable for hatching grounds, provided tyver with food, and administered protection and support. Brad likened drones to the supply line of an army, without which tyver would falter before they even got to the battle. Since the battle was over my region or possibly my soul—I’d gotten confused in the analogy—I liked the sound of our guerrilla tactics. It beat charging into a head-on fight I might not survive.
“Suku Hujan Gembira has been notified. They’ll be on site in twenty minutes or less,” Brad continued. The closest prajurit clan, the Hujan Gembira had been on standby since yesterday. It’d be up to them to kill any eggs the tyv laid while we dispatched drones. “Be careful, and call me if you need anything.”
I returned the phone to the pocket of my sweater and zipped my coat closed over it. With more drones on the way, I couldn’t chance leaving myself easy access to the cell. One rash call to Alex last night had been more than enough.
Shivering, I tugged my damp glove back on and burrowed my fingers into my armpits.
“Don’t get in my way, and d
on’t slow me down again,” Summer said, and broke into a sprint.
I rolled my eyes and rushed after her. Jamie spotted us coming his direction and spun to run with us, tearing his way across lawns and leaping hedges. I wanted to yell at him to use the sidewalk and stop destroying people’s yards, but I saved my breath.
Following Summer irritated me on principle. I wanted to know where we were going, but I forced myself to keep up as we pounded down Nebula Court and across Orion Way before veering left on Galaxy Lane. This hilltop happened to be the tallest in the greater Roseville area, but whoever named these streets had still been ambitious.
At nine o’clock on a Sunday night, a hush enshrouded the neighborhood street. In normal sight, inviting golden light spilled from windows, competing with the cool blue flickers of TVs and computers. Yellow streetlamps and porch lights watched over well-manicured lawns and driveways crowded with shiny sedans and minivans. In Primordium, the subdivision looked the same as it would have in daylight—white lawns rolling to the sidewalk, bright trees stretching bare limbs toward the black sky, and a faint glow of people with mishmash souls moving inside their homes, all of it illuminated in the never-changing, ambient glow.
I hadn’t seen a norm outside in the last half hour. Even the late-evening dog walkers were snuggled in their cozy homes, enjoying their central heating.
Lucky norms.
I banished my budding resentment. I should have been grateful. The cold weather made it possible for sjel tyver and their drones to invade my region, but it also made it easier for me to hunt them without a norm interfering. Tucked inside, people remained as oblivious to the unleashed Great Dane dashing through their yards as they did to the two gun-waving women, who up until Brad’s phone call, had been darting spastically through front yards, firing imperceptible bullets at invisible creatures.
Summer passed our cars and kept going, her effortless steps taunting me. My feet hit the pavement with heavy thuds that jarred from my soles to my eye sockets. I bet she felt like she was running on cotton candy.
A Fistful of Frost Page 17