“I own you now, puppet,” he said, meeting his own dark gaze in the silver glass. “There’s nothing you know that I don’t. Nothing you can stop me from doing. Don’t worry. We’re going to take down Tyrell. I’ve been after him a long time. You did well getting rid of your brother. That will make things go easier. What’s that? You plan to fight me with everything you’ve got?”
Gregg gave a little laugh and smiled at himself. “I expected nothing less. The strong ones never succumb easily. So you know—I’ve never been dislodged yet. I’ll be riding you like a jockey until I’m done with you. After that? Well, it all depends. But that particular problem is far down the road. I have plans for you. Many plans.”
With that, he winked at himself, then took himself back to bed, curling up under the covers. Within seconds a heavy lassitude overtook him, and he was smothered under clouds of gray cotton.
Chapter 20
Riley
“WHY DO THEY want to meet me?” I asked for the fifth time as we approached the diner.
Dalton led the way, with Arnow, Taylor, Patti, and me behind. Leo and Jamie brought up the rear. All of us carried guns, along with a few other small magics I used for defense and escape when I was still doing hack tracing for a living. That was less than four months ago. It seemed like yesterday and forever. I think I’d aged a couple hundred years since then.
Guilt ate at my heart. I hadn’t called Price back. I needed privacy for that, and time—neither of which I had at the moment. Anyway, I wasn’t sure he was all that eager to hear from me. Right. He was probably having a cow. I couldn’t help but think he deserved it a little. I mean, really? A fucking ultimatum? I’d gone through hell to get him away from the FBI. I’d risked my family, and my stepmom had lost her life. And he needed more proof?
Not fair, the not-a-raving-lunatic-bitch side of me said. He is worried and helpless and I cut him out. I’d be just as pissed. I sighed silently.
“Obviously they want you to do a trace,” Arnow said exasperatedly, glaring at me. She’d given me the same answer the previous four times I’d asked.
“But who? And why now?” Patti mused. “Shouldn’t they be worried about defending their business? They have to know that with Savannah dead, there are going to be attacks from all sides.”
“Whoever they want to find must be pretty damned important,” Taylor said. She looked at Arnow. “You know them—you’ve got to have some ideas about it.”
Arnow frowned. “Savannah didn’t let me in that far. I know them, yes, but not well. The real question is what are they going to do when they find out you can’t trace?”
She gave me a raised brow look, and I could almost see the air quotes around “you can’t trace.”
“Do you ever get off the bitch train?” I asked. “No, don’t answer that. I already know you don’t.”
“Back at you, sweetheart,” she drawled. “Don’t pretend your shit don’t stink. You aren’t exactly Mother Teresa. I notice you aren’t answering the question.”
“I’ll bluff.” My stomach tightened. It was a risk, but necessary. I needed to convince the lieutenants to let me be their boss. I had one thing they wanted. Now I had to leverage it. I had to hope they wanted it bad enough to give me control, and then I had to figure out how to carry out my end of the deal.
I racked my brain again for ideas on how to cure myself, but once again, I found nothing popped. Maybe I should have called Maya, but she was on Gregg’s payroll. Wait. I couldn’t be the first one to have this kind of magic burnout. It had to have happened to someone else. Maybe I should google it.
If only it was that easy.
We approached the diner from the opposite side of the street. The lights were on, and people sat at booths. Helena and Marie bustled from table to table with pots of coffee.
“Looks normal enough,” Leo said and glanced at Patti. “What do you think?”
“I think nobody is eating and every bloody one of them looks like they’d kill their own mother for a buck. We need to get the hell inside,” she said grimly.
“She’s right,” Taylor said. “Your waitresses don’t look so happy, either.”
“Can you tell anything?” Jamie asked, turning to me.
I hesitated, then made myself drop into trace sight. Fire streaked through my muscles, pulling like claws. I clenched my jaw, digging my fingernails into my palms, like I could somehow counterbalance the pain. It worked about as well as a paper umbrella in the rain. All the same, it didn’t break free as it had in Ocho’s hideout. Not yet. I had to make this quick.
I scanned the diner. “They’ve activated some binders. Looks like the diner’s security web is off.” Good thing, too. Binders tended to play havoc with active spells.
Binder spells and nulls frequently get used in the same situations, but work differently. Nulls eat active magic. They suck it right up, but leave the drained spells intact. They also hide trace by essentially taking the magic from it. Binders, on the other hand, lock down magic. It’s still there, but it can’t function until the binders go off. Like batteries, they only last so long before they run out of juice and the magic they’ve bound down pops back, though the spells usually get short-circuited. Banks and hotels use nulls to keep magic out and binders to keep anybody from using magic in most areas.
Patti’s got a kind of binder talent that gives her the ability to physically bind things in place. So if she didn’t want a car going anywhere, all she’d have to do is bind it to the ground. The binding wouldn’t last long—maybe ten minutes.
Feeling my control eroding, I pulled myself out of trace sight. My heart raced, and little zaps of energy popped and sizzled in my body, making me twitch. I clenched my teeth and jammed my fists deep into my pockets.
If I could barely go into trace sight, how the hell was I going to do a trace?
I gave Patti a pointed look. “The outer ones are supposed to stay on all the time.”
Years ago, I’d woven a significant web of nulls into the building, dividing them into an exterior zone to keep anyone from breaking in with magic, and a rarely used inner zone to disable any malignant magic that got activated inside. The outer field was supposed to run twenty-four/seven. The binders looked like amoebas next to my nulls. If Ben hadn’t shut the security web down, it would have fried the binders. Now it was too late. The security web couldn’t be activated with the binders running.
Patti made a face. “Ben doesn’t like them. Says they interfere with his cooking.”
“That’s bullshit. I made sure nothing would interfere with him. I like eating here too much.”
“I know that, and you know that. I’ve told him so a billion times, but he’s stubborn. He shuts the whole thing off whenever I’m not looking.”
Patti scowled and took a couple of steps forward. “Those goons better not have hurt him. I’ll rip their throats out myself.”
“You’ll have plenty of help,” Taylor said darkly, then looked at me. “Ready?”
Not on a bet. “Let’s do it.” I stepped off the curb, then turned around. “Jamie, you and Leo should stay here with Dalton.” All three of them opened their mouths to protest, and I lifted a hand up. “There’s nothing you can do inside. You won’t be able to use magic and, trust me, they outgun us. Better if you hang back so that if something goes wrong, you can help us.”
I eyed them all with steady determination. This was the first test of how we’d work as a team, with me in charge. Me in charge. Ludicrous. Yet no one laughed.
“All right,” Dalton said. He flicked a look at Taylor and back to me. She didn’t notice. “Try not to fuck this up.”
Those were the most words I’d heard out of him at one time all night. I gave him a cocky smile. “I always do, Mr. Sunshine.”
He murmured something I didn’t hear.
“What did was that?”
“I said maybe you should do better than just try,” he drawled, his silver eyes fixing me.
“Gee. Why didn’t I think of that?” I turned to my brothers, ignoring Dalton’s muttered curse. “And you two?”
“They’ll stay,” Taylor said. “If they don’t, I’ll kick their asses.”
“You can try,” Leo said, but he was hardly paying attention to her. He and Jamie exchanged a long look, then Jamie nodded.
“We’ll stay.”
“For as long as it takes,” I added. “No busting in because you’re tired of waiting.”
“No busting in,” Leo affirmed after a few long seconds. “For twenty minutes. Then all bets are off.” The other two nodded agreement.
“A full half hour,” I countered. I wasn’t going to get my brothers to agree to any more time than that.
Another exchange of looks between all three, and then Leo nodded. “But ladies? Be careful and do not get stupid.” He directed that last at me.
I stuck out my tongue at him for lack of an adult response and turned my back. “Let’s go.”
I marched across the street, deciding that since we were expected, skulking was unnecessary, and would waste precious time.
“How many guns do you think are pointed at us right now?” Taylor eyed the rooftops surrounding us.
“At least a dozen. Probably more,” Arnow replied. “Not to mention seven small armies. It’s a safe bet that each of the seven lieutenants brought protection.”
She’d already given us overview sketches on each one. The one thing I hadn’t expected was that they didn’t get along well with Savannah. According to Arnow, when they were in a room together, you could cut the tension with a knife.
Two goons in black suits opened the doors as we stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of the diner. If they’d been wearing sunglasses, I’d have sworn they were Jake and Elwood Blues. Neither said a word to us.
Once we were inside, a woman stepped forward, wearing black fatigues. She looked like she’d been a drill sergeant in a past life. Her silver hair was two inches long and stood up straight on her head. Her body was powerful, and she looked like she should have been strutting up and down while recruits did push-ups in the mud.
“Ladies,” she said in a raspy smoker’s voice. “Put your things on the counter. That includes your cell phones, weapons, and any other devices you might have.”
“Patti! Are you okay?”
Ben, Patti’s business partner, stood up from where he’d been sitting in a corner booth. A lanky guard grabbed him and pushed him back down onto the seat, holding him firmly with a hand to the shoulder.
Relief washed through me. He wasn’t hurt. I don’t know what would have happened if he had been. Patti looked angry, but the pinched look around her mouth relaxed a little.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“He’s fine,” the drill sergeant said, then tapped the counter with hard little bounces of her fingers. “Let’s not keep everybody waiting. Put your things on the counter.”
Patti looked the woman up and down. “That man is my business partner. If anything happens to him I will take you apart piece by piece.” Her pointed finger punctuated the words with little jabs in the air.
The woman snorted, looking down her nose at Patti’s diminutive figure. “Sure. Anything you say, I’ll even get you a stool so you can reach me better.”
Patti’s cheeks went livid. Before she could say anything, I put a hand on her arm. “Save it,” I said. “Ben’s okay and we have business. You can teach her a lesson later.”
“Anytime.” The drill sergeant smirked.
“Better make sure there’s a tinker handy. I don’t plan to leave much of you intact,” Patti told her.
We took off our coats and handed them over. I’d stashed my phone inside one of its zippered breast pockets. I’d stuffed my nulls and other magical defenses inside the roomy outer pockets. I pulled my gun and its pancake holster out of my rear waistband and set it on the counter beside my coat.
A quick frisk by Sergeant Bristle-Brush-Head, and she pointed to the booth where Ben sat. “You two wait with him,” she told Taylor and Patti.
I didn’t budge. “No.”
“That’s the rules.”
“Then you’d better change them.”
She eyed me, then went into the back room. A moment later she came back.
“Let’s go.”
Point for me. Hopefully the rest of this went so well. And maybe pigs would fly.
She led us into the back room where a day or so ago I’d met with Emily and Luis.
All the tables had been pushed together to make a rectangle. Seated around one end were Savannah’s seven lieutenants. They looked up as we entered. Nobody looked happy. They’d been discussing something heatedly. The tension was so thick I almost needed an oxygen mask.
“They’re here,” our escort announced unnecessarily.
We stopped at the opposite end of the table, but didn’t sit. I recognized five of the lieutenants from the pictures Arnow had pulled up on her phone on our trip over. She hadn’t had any of the other two.
The closest one on the left was Lewis Fineman. He had brown hair going to gray, with a round chocolate-milk face and a soft belly. I guessed him to be about my height, maybe a little bit taller. He reminded me of one of those TV dads who are slightly bumbling and not the brightest bulbs in the box. But his eyes were shrewd, and I knew better than to underestimate him. Any of them.
Next to him sat one of only two women. So much for equal opportunity employment. I recognized Ruth Blaine from her photo. She looked close to forty, her body voluptuous and firm like she worked out. Her chin showed a curved white scar on the right below the corner of her lip. She had to like having it, otherwise she’d have had it tinkered away.
Beside her sat Laura Vasquez, the other woman on the crew. Slender and vampire pale with bright red lips and a close-cut cap of slicked-down black hair, she wore a red suit jacket with a bow tie and a flowered shirt. I could almost hear Taylor shudder at the outfit.
Turning the corner of the table, I came to Bob Wright. He’d had a career as a big shot criminal attorney before crossing into the dark side. He wore a gray suit with a blue power tie. His thick salt-and-pepper hair rippled back from his face in elegant waves. The TV definition of distinguished looking. I’d put money on him getting regular tinkering to keep bald spots at bay.
The guy beside him surprised me. He wore a tee shirt with a stick figure humping the word “it.” All right, I admit, that amused me. His face and arms were tanned, and he had long blond hair pulled up in a man-bun, totally destroying any illusion of competence. Maybe that was the point. Lure people into a false sense of security that he was harmless. He wasn’t. By definition as one of Savannah’s lieutenants, he had to be a shark. I guessed he was younger than me, which meant he had to have impressive skills and was an overachiever.
The next guy looked about as wide as he was tall and not an ounce of fat on him. His sweater strained to cover his bulk. He had Robert Redford hair and a full beard. I put him at around fifty years old.
Carter Matokai filled out the seven. Japanese in descent, he had high cheekbones and slashing eyebrows beneath a broad forehead. He wore his hair in a buzz cut. He was probably in his early to midthirties.
“Welcome. Thank you for coming.” That from Bob Wright. He stood and gestured at the chairs. “Be seated. I hope you’ll forgive our haste and lack of manners, but time is of the essence.”
We did as requested, even as Wright went around the table, introducing everyone. Man-bun’s name turned out to be Tracey Erickson, and the hulk was Emerson Flanders.
“You’re probably wondering why we wanted to see you,” Wright began as he sat.
&nb
sp; “You want me to do a trace for you,” I said, forgetting that I’d planned to stay silent while they explained.
He nodded. “We do. We wish to hire you immediately.”
“Who are you looking for?” That from Taylor.
Wright flicked a surprised look at her then back to me. “Perhaps you might introduce your companions,” he said. Matokai made an impatient sound and Vasquez drummed her nails on the table. They were antsy. Worried, even. This trace must be seriously important.
I played along with Wright, trying to figure out my own strategy. Until I knew what they wanted, I wouldn’t know what my leverage was.
“Arnow you know,” I said, gesturing toward her. “That’s my sister, Taylor Hollis, and this is Patti Knotts, half owner of this diner.”
They all nodded in greeting with each introduction, which felt surreal. It seemed so ordinary, like a business meeting instead of a gathering of some of the most deadly people in Diamond City.
“To answer your question,” Wright said, looking at Taylor, “we desire you to locate several missing family members.”
The answer left out as much information as it included. “Maybe you can explain,” I said.
“Not necessary,” Carter Matokai said.
“Sure,” I said. “Then when I’m following their traces, I’ll walk right into some sort of ambush or maybe tip off the wrong people that I’m coming. I’m sure that everything will turn out fine. I mean, it’s not like someone might kill them because you decided to hunt them down.” The sarcasm is strong with me.
The seven of them exchanged speaking looks. Taylor leaned close to me. “This is more important than they want you to know,” she whispered. “I think you may have them over a barrel.”
I’d arrived at pretty much the same conclusion. The question was, how desperate were they and what were they willing to pay to get the hostages back?
Shades of Memory Page 27